**** Chapter Fifty: AN HEIR FOR VOLTTUS

****

Chapter Fifty: AN HEIR FOR VOLTTUS

Before I could reply, my gaze was fixed on a commotion out in the street behind Demon. A group of four men was rushing toward us, carefully carrying what looked like a huge roll of cloth. Then I saw Arvin and Aden running behind them. My heart missed a beat. I could sense trouble. I stood up to get a better glimpse and felt my heart stop, sinking to the bottom most cavity of my soul.

“Get Ogaz from the cottage! Quick!” He barked and one of the men dashed off. Demon kneeled beside the roll and placed his hand on the neck of the unconscious man wrapped in the scanty folds of a bloodstained shawl.

It was Kabir.

Demon moved his hand over to Kabir’s chest and pressed it. When he removed it, I noticed there was less blood there. I guess he had closed the bleeding wound somehow. I didn’t know he could do that.

I looked at Arvin and Aden as they looked at me. They seemed just as scared and confused as I found myself to be.

“Who did this?” Demon asked the men who had brought in Kabir.

“We were returning from Sikri and found him lying in the woods,” a man replied. “He was stabbed and – I don’t know – is he breathing?”

Just then Ogaz entered the scene, panting and hurrying towards us. Ina and Azure were right behind him. As she rushed to kneel at her husband’s side, Azure came to me. Silent tears streamed down her cheeks as she patiently waited for the Shaman to examine the Sardan. Ogaz checked for a heartbeat and found it. Kabir wasn’t dead yet but it was apparent he soon would be.

“You found him near Sikri?” Demon stood up and faced the man who had spoken.

“No Krâl, just outside of Gustak. But I don’t think he went there himself. I think he was left there. We found this stabbed in his chest to the hilt.”

The man handed over a thin black dagger to Demon. The weapon had no markings and looked more like an oversized chef’s knife. By then, the three Generals had also joined the small crowd under the Neme.

“Ducimus,” Demon said to the Generals. “Have your men comb the woods. Look for a Ducima with horns but be careful. There might be more than one.” “Samish, Krâl.” The three men bowed and left.

“Antinoos,” Ogaz said. “He is dying. Much blood was lost before you patched the wound.”

“No! Oh no! Please Shaman, do something!” Ina burst into tears as she held her husband’s hand and rubbed it passionately between her own. “I can’t lose him. I just can’t!”

I felt a surge of emotions bubbling in my heart. I was devastated. I was furious. I wanted to heal. I wanted to destroy. Ina had lost too much already at the hands of the enemy to lose yet again. She shouldn’t have to bear this test. She couldn’t bear this test! I turned to Azure and whispered, “Demon has no heir, Azure.”

My suggestion left Azure staring and gasping. He lifted a finger as if to tell me to hold that thought but the simplicity of the idea seemed just too perfect for him to ignore.

And he heeded.

“Demon,” Azure said, “Volttus needs an heir.”

Demon seemed to have been taken absolutely by surprise at this request. He looked startled. And then he was angry. “Are you mad?” He barked at his Minister.

Azure shook his head. “Krâl Antinoos, Volttus needs an heir.”

Demon looked at Kabir and opened his mouth to say something but no words came out. Ina and Ogaz had heard Azure’s plea of course like the rest of us and they looked up to him as well. Ina sat motionless by Kabir’s side but Ogaz stood up.

“Do it Antinoos. We don’t have time!”

“No.” Demon shook his head. “I won’t condemn him to an eternity of hell.”

“Then you’ll let Ducimus win!” I intervened this time. “They killed Shehrzad too.”

My revelation spread like ripples across the audience. Demon stared at Ina, and her bowed head answered all his queries. Finally, she looked up and nodded.

And that’s when for the first time, I, too, saw flames in my Demon’s eyes. His pupils were no longer ocean blue or dark teal or glowing amber or icy. They were burning with rage; sparkling with fire.

“So be it!” he hissed. He gripped Ina by the shoulders, helped her stand and then told Ogaz to get her out of the way. The Demon King was now furious and active.

Nobody dared speak!

Demon kneeled beside Kabir’s dying body once more. He ripped open Kabir’s shirt and placed his left palm over Kabir’s heart. The skin beneath Demon’s palm began to glow until it was burning and the red flames seemed to reach the heavens. Demon’s breath started to become quick and irregular as Kabir’s body went taut and broke into sweat. Then the fire died down. Kabir’s body went limp and white as Demon removed his hand to reveal a small demonic claw the size of a pea glowing red in the fading sun.

“Noble Phromaz,” Demon said in a hoarse voice, not looking up. “I command you to pledge allegiance to the heir of Volttus.”

Azure went up to Kabir, knelt on one knee and bowed his head in the traditional

Realmic way and said, “Aye.”

“Take him back to the castle. Protect him,” Demon said, “and you’ll know when he comes to power.”

“Yes, Krâl,” Azure said and stood up. Then just as Demon was leaving, Azure held him by the shoulders and said, “I still serve you. Don’t forget that.” “Not anymore. I release you.” Demon walked past Azure.

Azure gasped. I guess we all did.

“So – you leave me to my free will, Demon?” His loud voice rang true through the thick tension of the atmosphere. The confidence of his voice intrigued me. He was beaming – as if he had finally found what he most desired.

“Yes,” Demon said without turning to look at Azure. “Fulfill your duty unto the heir of

Volttus, Khazrum.”

“The heir of Volttus sleeps,” Azure said. “He shall not wake ‘till the existing Krâl no longer rules. And the depths of the castle shall protect him.” Then, he paused and when he spoke next, his voice was husky. “I shall return for you – my friend!”

Demon cast a sideway glance at Azure but didn’t speak. Instead, he walked away from the crowd.

Azure stood motionless for a second, staring after Demon. He looked very peaceful, his face the face of gratitude. Then, he circled around Kabir’s body and wrapped him in the same bloody cloth. He morphed into a giant blue dragon and, clutching the unconscious heir of Volttus in his mighty claws, flapped away into the darkening sky.

****

Chapter Fifty One: HOME

It had begun to rain.

After Kabir was gone, Ogaz asked the small crowd to disperse. There was silence everywhere. No sound except thunder and yet, I could hear screams. Perhaps my mind was wailing. Or was it Ina’s heart that I could hear throb outside her chest, splattered onto the street right where her innocent husband’s blood had trickled down into a thin stream of mud.

I looked at the un-widowed wife of the undead. She still stood where her husband had been lying a few minutes ago. She looked dazed, heavy rain soaking her to her bones. What do I say to her?

Should have I consoled her for his new life? Or should have I mourned the death of a warrior? Perhaps, I should’ve told her to focus on her unborn child. Or should have I sought forgiveness for my part in this?

I had suggested Kabir as the new Demon with good intent. Truth was I couldn’t see him die. For some reason, that to me would’ve meant victory for the Ducimus. They couldn’t just go on killing our people and expect no retaliation. But was this really retaliation? I had helped condemn a man to hellish life. A good man. Condemned to life that Demon himself called hellish. And now his wife couldn’t even mourn him. He would one day wake up and not remember her. And she was doomed to bear that because of me –

I was too numb to move but I could see Ogaz, dripping wet in the cold rain, trying to coax Ina away from the deathly spot. But she didn’t respond. She just stood there. Frozen in the rain. I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders. I was about to walk over and talk to her when something on the floor under the bench where Kabir had been caught my attention. I knelt down to look at it.

A bunch of golden berries!

Kabir may have had it in his fist the whole time until it slipped out but nobody had noticed it. Mechanically, I picked up the bunch and went over to Ina. She didn’t look at me but Ogaz did. I held out the bunch to show him and he melted. Yes, Ogaz! She is pregnant! He understood the unspoken lament of Ina’s tears. He took the berries from my hand into his own trembling grip.

“Ina,” he said. When she didn’t move, he placed the bunch in her palm.

She looked then. Squeezed the bunch in her fist and watched the juice drip down her wet wrist. And then she broke down. The worst was over for her. Ina was out of the tragic trance and stepping into the realization mode. She was wailing, bending down on her knees and crying out her pain while Ogaz held her tightly.

I couldn’t watch.

My body ached and my insides felt ready to spill out. I wanted to get away. I started to walk. I didn’t know where.

I ran towards them. The chilling wind and rain pelted my face as I ran but it was soothing. I ran through the woods until I reached a clearing strewn with boulders and dry leaves. My pounding heart felt like it would leap out of my chest if I didn’t stop so I sat down on a smooth rock.

I buried my head in my hands. This was too brutal. Too raw. Ever since I had come to the Realm, I had killed, had seen people being killed. Evil faces with ugly spirits. Pretty faces with equally ugly spirits. And I was afraid I’d become one of them. The blood, the cruelty, the screams, the fire –

“Aoife.” Demon’s voice startled me. I looked up and saw him kneeling in front of me.

“I want to go home,” I said suddenly.

“The castle?”

“No. My home!” I grabbed his collar and shouted. “My home!” “You can’t go home.” His eyes were cool and unaffected.

“You animal,” I whispered. “All of you! And I’m becoming just like you!” I pushed him aside and got up but he grabbed my arm.

“You are one of us whether you like it or not,” he said. “So get off your high horse and face it!”

“No! This is not me. This isn’t my world and you can’t keep telling me what to do!” I jerked myself free of his grasp.

“You were born a Syhlain!” he yelled back. “Alistair raised you to be a Syhlain! What are you running away from?”

“He never told me who I was. You did! You lied!”

“Aoife, listen to me!” He gripped my arm fiercely. “If I could send you back I would!

But I can’t deprive Enth any more than I can stop the curse from affecting me or you. You have to stay and you have to fight! You don’t have the luxury to doubt yourself any longer! Grow up!”

I shook my head violently, trying to block out all reason, all rationale he threw at me.

“Leave me alone, Demon! Leave me alone!” I ran away from him back to Gustak.

On the way back, I made up my mind about what I would do next. Demon could keep and rule over Enth forever. All I needed to do was crush the damn Scepter and get the hell out of this miserable place. Princess or no Princess, I didn’t give a damn! I would go to Khuzdoh alone and – but that would be useless. I needed Demon to help me crush the damn thing or else the curse would stand.

I was so screwed!

I entered Gustak but took a wrong turn. I couldn’t see Kabir’s cottage anywhere. The sun was shining brightly in a cloudless sky again and a green pasture was spread out beneath my feet. How long was this day?

I stood there for a second wondering which way to go when somebody called me from behind. I turned around to see the three Generals along with a sizeable group of soldiers. Something in the middle of the crowd stunned me into stillness. A grunting

Ducima was bound in heavy chains so that only her horned head was free to move. Next to her was a Richesse soldier but he wasn’t tied. He had merely been forced to kneel down a few paces away from the Ducima, cowering in fear of the army around him.

“Princess Aoife,” Salaar of Sepharvim dismounted his horse. “They attacked the

Sardan of Gustak in the woods. What is Your Majesty’s command?”

I squinted, trying to comprehend what the man was saying when I realized I stood in front of a huge army. Every eye looked at me. My heart leapt in my throat and I involuntarily ran my fingers through my damp hair. I looked at the path I was on, twisting away into the depths of Gustak and vanishing. If only I could vanish too –

“Princess,” Salaar called me again, “your orders?”

Tongue tied, I stared at him. My face must have mirrored my state of mind because his eyes revealed his confusion at my reaction. Suddenly, the Ducima began to laugh. Her laughter was hysterical and she bobbed her ugly head back and forth as she cackled. Suddenly, she stopped and spat out something on the ground. I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was a bunch of chewed up golden berries.

“Delicious,” she spoke with a snake-like hiss. “Next time I’ll feast on the flesh of the mother – and child!” She smiled, baring her white teeth and challenged me with her black eyes. Gaining strength from her, now the Richesse soldier was chuckling too.

I felt a rush of fury flow through my veins like boiling blood. I marched up to Salaar, drew his sword from its sheath and sliced the Ducima’s head from her shoulders with one clean blow. The chopped head rolled in the sand like a ball and came to rest in front of the kneeling Richesse soldier. I stuck my sword in the head and raised it to his eye level. He gasped and then screeched like a little kid.

“Take this token of our affection to your King and Queens,” I said to him. “Tell them they have a date with death and we’ll make sure they’re all dressed up for it!” I gestured to the soldiers to release him which they did. The Richesse soldier picked up the head and stumbled through the crowd. “Salaar,” I said looking at the disappearing silhouette of the soldier, “I’d like to know our friend’s address. And we might be expecting company soon. Please prepare.”

“Yes, Princess.” He bowed and immediately got busy with his soldiers, shouting orders, gathering them, sending some to follow the Richesse soldier and telling others to prepare for war to liberate Enth. The soldiers went wild with cheers for freedom and the Princess of Enth.

I smiled at them; my people. But felt as if something was missing. I braced myself and turned away from the jubilation. I looked at the woods I had come out of, hoping to find the answer. And there he was, standing not very far away from me. He bowed his head as if to pay homage to the new me and smiled.

I was a warrior. I was home.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

We embarked on this journey some two years ago and had a host of helping hands to aid us swim ashore. How can we ever thank you all?! Well, here’s a start…

Mary Rosenblum: our editor, mentor and friend, who believed in us and the book and helped us every step of the way to see this dream materialize in a very marketable way too. Just couldn’t have done it without you!

Amy Croall: our imaginative cover designer, fellow writer and friend who swooned over Demon just as many times as we did. Here’s to our collective creative aspirations!

Humzy and T-man: the two kooky critics and fuel for our souls without whose friendship and support there would’ve been no Aoife and no Demon. Thank you for believing in us guys!

To all our friends who told us off and on how eagerly they’re waiting for the book, shared the links on their Facebook walls, tweeted about it, talked about it, read the blog posts, provided little or no critique but dropped a line or two of encouragement, liked our Facebook page, and promised to buy multiple copies as soon as it was out. Well, now’s your chance!

Thank you Tooba, Sobia, Suniya, Wajida, Mona, and Mona, Sharon, Jo, Lisa,

Karoline, Dennise, Ann, Sadaf J, Saima, Breeny, Laila, Fariha, Luby, Shabaan, JJ, Nile

(‘cause she thinks we’re awesome), Asma, Raessa, Vj, Shariq, Saad, Moody, the LRWG guys, the Proud 238, friends at CWS, the ever secretive Mr. Pride Jones (for making our initial cover), and Krâl Robbie (we owe him that word!).

If we’ve failed to mention you here but you think we should have then, consider yourself included!

CONNECT WITH THE AUTHORS

Shamila Ghyas& Humeira Kazmi

SHAMILA GHYAS

As far back as I can remember, the two most consistent companions in my life have been Nutella and books.

I read everything I can get my hands on but my favorite genre has always been fantasy. I must say I have to thank Enid Blyton for that. At age 7, I got the chance to read Faraway Tree and I was hooked. So much so, that for an English Assignment later on in Grade 7, I wrote a story in lines of my favorite genre. I still remember my teacher’s words; “Shamila, your imagination is all over the place and is a bit out of control.” So that was that! The thought of writing never even crossed my mind again and I continued to devour one book after another, much to the annoyance of my mother who did not approve of me reading over eating.

Life went on: education, marriage, family till the day I got to know Humeira who motivated me into writing again.

And so, here we are: Imagination still out of control and a book we have really enjoyed writing.

I really hope that everyone who reads it loves it as much as we do. Since that will give us the excuse to finish up the series by writing part 2.

**** HUMEIRA KAZMI

I was in grade 7 and bunking PE when I read Tolkien’s Two Towers from the LOTR trilogy.

I know what you’re thinking. Certified nerd! I remember what I was thinking. Where had this book been all my life?!

I loved it. I can’t recall the scenes I’d read then but I remember how transfixing Tolkien's Middle Earth was. I instantly wanted to write something like it.

But such dreams are easily forgotten in the wake of building a real career.

I went ahead and enrolled in a business college and did my MBA with tinselly rainbow colors making a tiara out of my nerd cap. It was a good day. And it was a good year at the bank. But the best time was when I landed at an ad agency’s creative department to write jingles and slogans and slaughter both my languages (Urdu and English) in the process. I learned a lot there. I wrote a lot there. And I became apt in the art of killing my own brainchildren a.k.a self-editing.

Then, I got married. Moved to the United States and started a family.

For two years I was a good stay-at-home mom. Then, I thought I could be good at something else too. I couldn’t decide on what exactly till I stumbled upon my old diary – a leftover from my baby and teen years. I read all the poems and stories I’d written therein; ranging from an ode to Mom to a soul searching monologue. I realized I wasn’t bad. If I worked on my talent I could turn it into a skill. And perhaps be able to write like the numerous authors who’d inspired me for years. A lost afternoon in the school library from so long ago made its way into my present and I remembered the perfect Legolas. I remembered the imperfect Quasimodo, the roguish Rhett Butler and the ruthless Rory Frost too.

Suddenly, I wanted to create such characters and write their stories instilled with M.

M. Kaye like descriptions and Crichton like research and Grisham like authenticity all tied together with intense moods borrowed from Victoria Holt. Tolkien’s magic dust and King’s dark secrets would just be the cherry and powdered sugar on top.

I enrolled in a writing program immediately and earned my diploma. Next I wrote and edited for a newbie magazine. Wrote two children’s books and put them both up for sale on www.lulu.com (5 Kids and 5 Snowmen and Boondon Ka Khel: The Playful Game of the Tiny Water Droplets).

And now it’s Aoife and Demon.

It’s taken me a little less than four decades to realize that dream. And I am not alone in this. I have Shami to cheer by my side as this was her dream too. Aoife and Demon is our first novel. We are both proud and scared at this delicate turn in our writing lives but eager to take the plunge.

We hope you celebrate it with us!

http://www.aoifeanddemon.com

https://www.facebook.com/AoifeandDemon

Email us: mailto:aoifeanddemon@gmail.com

Other Titles from Humi & Shami: Origin of the Realm (A Prequel to Aoife & Demon:

Cursed be the Syhlain)

Directory: submissions
submissions -> Committee on the rights of the child the rights of all children in the context of international migration
submissions -> Lindane risk profile (Prepared by Mexico) Executive summary
submissions -> The Private and Social Value of Blackout Risk Reduction
submissions -> Science and Engineering vs Concussions Abstract
submissions -> Contact and Email
submissions -> Rfid with Bio-Smart Card in Linux
submissions -> Discretion in Human-Computer Interaction
submissions -> The evolving dynamics of eurasian supply and demand in the increasingly integrated global gas market
submissions -> 32 Bit Floating Point Audio Processing The Sky is the Limit
submissions -> The Quantum Approach to np-hard Optimization Problems Name: Sam Prager Bio

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