The 13th Demon (Demon's Grail) Read online

  “Maybe.”

  “Maybe?”

  She shrugs. “Maybe. A warrior princess kind of thing.”

  “I never thought of it like that,” I mutter, looking up toward the palace again. “I just wanted to believe I'd finally met my father. I know that sounds lame, but it's true.”

  “You never met him?” she asks.

  “I was spirited away as soon as I was born. He might have held me briefly when I was a baby, I don't know, but I never really met him. And I never will, but that's okay. I can get used to it. It was dumb of me to let hope draw me into this mess. It just ended up as -” I pause for a moment as I think back to the night when all the other spiders were killed. I can still hear their screams, and I can still see the horrific sight in my mind's eye. All those beautiful, majestic creatures were waiting to reclaim their homeland, and then it was all taken away from them. Even worse, it was all my fault. I followed the demons, and the spiders followed me. My people trusted me and I let them down.”

  “You should have this,” Abby says suddenly.

  Turning to her, I see that she's holding out a box.

  “Thanks,” I reply, “but it's not my birthday.”

  “Take it.”

  “No.”

  “Emilia -”

  “I'm not just taking some random box from you,” I continue. “What's in it?”

  “A Creolian petal,” she replies. “Open the box and the petal will let you speak to someone who's dead. You can only use it once, but I'm pretty sure it's not limited to vampires.”

  “What am I supposed to do with -” Pausing, I realize exactly what she means. “Can it even be used to contact people who've been gone a really, really long time?”

  She nods.

  I take a deep breath, before feeling a surge of fear in my chest. “You keep it,” I tell her. “Talk to Patrick one more time.”

  “I've got some spares,” she replies. “I want you to have that one.”

  I open my mouth to tell her that I know she's lying, that I can see in her eyes that this is the only one of these damn things she has left, but at the same time I'm not sure I can pass up the opportunity. This time, when she holds it out to me, I can't help but take it and turn it over in my hands.

  “You've never met your father,” she continues. “I met mine, I spent time with him. You should at least get to meet him once.”

  I pause, staring at the box for a moment before turning to her. There's a part of me that feels weak for accepting help from a vampire, but another part of me is filled with gratitude. “Thank you.”

  “I'll let you have a moment alone,” she replies, taking a step back and then turning to make her way across the rocks.

  “Wait!” My hands are trembling now, and I feel as if I can't actually go through with this. “Abby,” I call out, “hold up!”

  “I'm going to see how Oncephalus is doing,” she continues. “I'll be back in a few minutes.”

  “You can't just leave me here with this,” I reply, taking a deep breath as I look at the box. “It's probably just some dumb trick anyway,” I mutter. “I mean, whoever heard of stupid petals letting people speak to the dead? It's blatantly garbage.” I want to toss the box aside, but at the same time there's just a tiny sliver of hope in my chest. Hope has got me into trouble before, of course, but I guess I still haven't quite learned my lesson. Cautiously, I open the box's lid and find a delicate white petal resting on a velvet cushion.

  I wait.

  Nothing happens.

  “Is this it?” I say with a sigh, before realizing how stupid the whole thing sounds. “Great,” I add, turning to call out for Abby again, “is -”

  Before I can say another word, however, I find that I'm no longer in the dusty valley. Instead, I'm in what appears to be some kind of dark stone passageway, lit only by a torch that burns on the nearby wall. I look both ways, trying to work out what's happening, and then I hear someone nearby. Heading to one of the nearby doors, I peer through into the next room and see to my surprise that a man is standing with his back to me, looking down at a crib. A moment later, I realize I can hear a child gurgling.

  “It's you,” the man says suddenly, his voice echoing slightly in the stone-walled room.

  “What's me?” I ask, even though I can already guess.

  “Don't you want to see what you looked like on that day?” he continues. When he turns toward me, I realize that I recognize his face from the Book of Karakh. Arachnos, great ruler of the spiders, last king of Karakh. My father. “This is the only day we ever really met, Emilia. The day of your birth, the day I sent you away.”

  “Yeah,” I reply cautiously, “that's great and all, but...” Looking down at the petal in the box, I realize that it already seems to be wilting and dying, as if my time here is running out.

  “You were tricked,” he continues. “It's not your fault, you didn't know what my voice really sounded like. Keller, on the other hand, should have been more wary. He was a great man, a wise man, but hope can create cracks in the best of us.”

  “You're not my father,” I snap, taking a step back. “This is just another game, or... Or this stupid leaf is, like, toxic or something and I'm hallucinating.”

  “Emilia -”

  “I'm not playing!” I shout, with tears in my eyes. Taking another step back, I realize the baby in the crib is gurgling a little louder now. “This is cruel,” I continue. “I get why you tricked me before, you needed to use me and to manipulate the spiders, but why are you doing it now? Are you just -”

  Before I can finish, I see that he's leaning into the crib, and a moment later he lifts the child up into his arms. Damn it, maybe I'm fooling myself now, but deep down I feel as if I truly recognize myself.

  “I only held you once,” he explains, turning and coming closer to me as the child wriggles. Staring up into his eyes, the baby smiles. “I knew you wouldn't remember,” my father continues, “but I hope you understand now that...” He pauses, as if he doesn't quite know what to say next. “It hurt to send you away, but if you'd stayed... You would have died, Emilia. The only way to save your life was to send you far away, and to hide you so that no-one ever came looking. I thought you'd live out your life happily, I thought Keller would teach you our old traditions but that you'd never be in danger. Now look at you. I saw everything that happened in the palace, Emilia, but as a spirit I was powerless to stop it. As you were tricked into destroying the ancient web, I begged the gods to intervene. I can only assume our gods are long since dead.”

  I wait for him to continue, but he simply looks down at the child in his arms and runs a finger against her cheek.

  “Are you really him?” I whisper. “Are you really Arachnos?”

  “I'm your father,” he replies, glancing at me with a hint of fear in his eyes. “We don't have much time, Emilia, so I have to be quick. There's nothing to fight for here anymore, the great palace of Karakh is gone and so are the spiders. Emitus warned me that the demons had existed, that they might one day rise up through the floor of our home and reclaim their land, but I was too preoccupied with the fight against the vampires. I let hatred and blood-lust cloud my judgment, I thought I could fight the future, I thought change could be held back, but I was wrong. Now Karakh is lost -”

  “No!” I hiss.

  “It's gone,” he says firmly, “and you must turn and leave this place. The demons care only about Abigail Hart, they have some purpose in mind for her but they will let you run. Don't be noble, Emilia. Don't sacrifice your life for a vampire!”

  “I'm not sacrificing anything,” I tell him, “but she's my -”

  I catch myself just in time.

  “She's your what?” he asks, with a hint of cold shock in his eyes.

  “Never mind.”

  “Abigail Hart is fated to enter the palace of Karakh and die there,” he continues, “but you can choose what happens to you. Emilia, please, as the last of your species you have a duty to seek refuge.”

&
nbsp; “And then what?” I ask. “Find a nice guy and squirt out half-human, half-spider babies so that our diluted bloodline can continue?”

  “No daughter of mine will sacrifice herself for a vampire,” he says firmly.

  “Is that an order?”

  “It will be, if you don't make the right choice.”

  “Yeah, well, you're dead, so it's not like you're the best person to go around telling people what to do.”

  “If you stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the daughter of Patrick,” he continues, “then you are no daughter of mine.”

  Staring at him, I feel a shudder pass through my chest. After dreaming of this moment for so long, I never expected to meet my father and find that he was completely unable to see the truth.

  “Abby and I are fighting the same thing,” I tell him.

  He shakes his head.

  “We are!” I hiss. “If you think I'm going to turn around and run, then you really don't know me!” I pause for a moment, as I let those words sink in. “Then again, I guess you don't know me. You only held me once, as a child, so how could you possibly have any idea who I really am? Keller told me I had ten brothers and eight sisters. Maybe you had a chance to get to know them, but not me.”

  “Will you really persist in this foolishness?” he asks. “Will you throw your life away in order to help a lowly vampire?”

  “I'm not throwing my life away,” I tell him. “I'm making a stand.”

  He pauses, before turning and setting the wriggling baby back into the crib. “Then you are lost to me, Emilia. I despair, and I weep for you, but I cannot call you my daughter.”

  “Yeah,” I reply, “well you're dead, so... Big loss.”

  He turns to me, with an expression of pure anger, but then suddenly in the blink of an eye he disappears. When I turn, I find that I'm back in the dusty valley, and when I look down at the box in my hands I see that the petal has disintegrated.

  “More,” I whisper, before starting to scramble across the rocks in pursuit of Abby. I can see her up ahead, talking to Oncephalus, and when I reach her I immediately grab her by the collar and pull her closer. “I need more!” I shout. “I want to see him again and make him understand!”

  She tries to push me away. “Emilia -”

  “He was an idiot!” I hiss. “My own father was an arrogant, stinking idiot! Give me more of those stupid petals so I can go and make him see the truth!”

  “I don't have more!” she replies.

  “Liar! You told me you did!”

  “That was just so you'd take it,” she explains, pushing me away. “That was the last one, Emilia. Absalom gave it to me so I could contact my father, but I realized you needed it more! I'm sorry if it didn't work out the way you wanted.”

  “You're just -” I stop suddenly, as I realize she's telling the truth. “Why... Why would you do that?” I stammer.

  “I guess it's just the way the world turns sometimes,” she replies. “I hope it helped. If I'd used it myself, I just...” Her voice trails off for a moment, before she turns and starts clambering across the rocks. “We've found what looks like the easiest path to the top,” she calls back to me. “Come on, there's no point waiting around!”

  “Why did she give that thing to me?” I ask, turning to Oncephalus. “It was hers!”

  “I've watched Abby hold that box several times every day,” she replies, with a hint of disgust in her voice, as if the mere sight of me makes her stomach churn, “and I've watched her daring herself to open it, waiting for the perfect moment. She desperately wanted to speak to her father one more time, but I suppose she simply felt it was more important for you to speak to your father for the first. I don't know whether you're coming with us back to the palace, but either way, there really isn't any more time to lose.”

  With that, she turns and starts following Abby. I hesitate for a moment, tempted to follow my father's advice and leave, but finally I head after them. I know this isn't my fight anymore, but at the same time I can't just abandon them to a battle they're certain to lose. Karakh is still my birthright, and I'm not going to let a bunch of stinking demons take control. I'd rather die than run and hide.

  Jonathan

  “What is this place?” I whisper, as the old man leads me along yet another aisle. We've been walking for hours, but we've finally reached a section of the library where there are other people up ahead. In fact, it's almost as if we've stumbled across some kind of market, with items hanging from ropes above us and figures arguing and shouting at one another. The level of noise is unbelievable, especially for a place that is supposed to be a library.

  “I've been here before,” the old man says cautiously. “At least, I think I have...”

  “Tenzac!” a voice calls out from nearby. “Where have you been, you old fool?”

  Turning, I watch as a younger man comes shuffling out from the crowd.

  “I don't mind telling you,” the new arrival continues, “we were starting to get worried. People were even saying that maybe you'd given up on us entirely and gone to live with others!”

  “Do you know him?” I ask.

  “Everyone knows Tenzac!” He pauses, frowning as he sees the vacant expression in the old man's eyes. “Tenzac's the wisest person in this part of the Great Library, he...” Another pause, and it's clear that he senses a change. “Tenzac, are you okay?” he asks, putting his hands on the old man's shoulders. “I've never seen you look quite so... vacant.”

  “Where's his home?” I continue. “Please, it's important!”

  “Tenzac,” the man continues, ignoring me as other members of the crowd start to gather around us. “Did someone do something to you, buddy?”

  “I...” Tenzac frowns. “I... I don't think I know who you are...”

  “What did you do to him?” the man asks, turning to me with anger in his eyes. “We look after each other out here and Tenzac's the most important elder in our aisle, so if you've hurt him...”

  “I found him like this,” I explain. “He was just wandering around in circles, muttering about trees and not really making much sense. He's been attacked, he seems to be having trouble stringing his thoughts together. I swear, this is what he was like when we met.”

  “I'm hungry,” Tenzac mutters. “I think I am, anyway...”

  “This man is one of the finest scholars in the history of the Great Library,” the man continues, moving more hair from Tenzac's face so he can see his eyes more clearly. “People have traveled here from other worlds just to ask for his advice, or to learn from him. Now he's...” He pauses, before reaching out and wiping something from the corner of the old man's mouth. “Now he's drooling. And he smells really, really bad.”

  “I don't mean to sound unsympathetic,” I reply, “but I need to find his house. He has something there that might help me.”

  The man eyes me suspiciously.

  “I'm Abby Hart's brother,” I continue, hoping that a spot of name-dropping might help.

  “Abby who?”

  “Please,” I add, trying not to sound exasperated, “it's important. I was sent here to get some information, and now it seems there's only a scrap left in some kind of old notebook. It might not be any use, but it has to be better than nothing.”

  “I think I remember now,” Tenzac mutters, turning and shuffling along the aisle. “I've been here before.”

  I start to follow, but the younger man steps forward to block my path. “If I find out that you're responsible for what's happened to him,” he says firmly, “I will personally round up a team to drag you to the citadel so you can be put on trial for your crimes. I can have a unit from the Soldiers of Tea out here in less than a day, and I promise you, Tenzac is revered at all the citadels within a thousand mile radius.”

  “How big is this place?” I ask, before seeing that Tenzac is almost out of sight up ahead. “Never mind,” I add, slipping through the crowd. “I'm pretty sure it's bigger than any library in New York.”

  For th
e next few minutes, I follow Tenzac along the aisle, and I can't help noticing that most of the people we pass seem suspicious of me. Glancing over my shoulder, I find that not only is the younger guy still following me, but several others are in tow as well, and there's a constant muttering all around as if everyone's whispering about my arrival. I'm starting to think that Tenzac is pretty popular around here, and a lot of the people seem shocked that he's suddenly become such a doddery old fool. Finally, when we reach another junction, I see that some crude wooden panels have been put in place to cover the entrance to the next aisle, as if it has been partitioned to form a small room.

  “This...” Tenzac stops and stares at the panels for a moment. “This might be...”

  “Your home,” I reply, stepping past him as I spot claw marks around the doorway.

  “They dragged me out,” he continues. “I tried to call for help, but...”

  “No-one heard a thing,” says one of the women watching from nearby. “One morning, he was just gone.”

  “Your notebooks,” I continue as Tenzac leads me inside. “Where are they?”

  As soon as we're through the doorway, I see that Tenzac's home is really just a room that has been formed with bookshelves on either side. Wooden boards have been nailed up to form a couple of other walls, with a couple more boards overhead, but the whole place is completely ramshackle. There's what appears to be an old mattress on the floor, but apart from that the place is very basic, and I guess life here in this huge library isn't exactly luxurious. Stepping forward, I struggle to see much in the dim light, but finally I spot a pile of paper in the corner.

  “This is my home,” Tenzac mutters, sounding a little dazed as he looks around. “Yes, I really think it is!”

  “I'm sorry about this,” I reply, hurrying past him and heading straight to the notes, “but I don't have time to sit around making smalltalk. Which of these are about the demons?”

  “Not those,” he continues, limping past me and reaching under the mattress. Pulling out a single piece of paper, he hands it to me. “This. When I heard the creatures coming for me, I knew I only had a few moments so I tried to jot down anything... I don't really remember, but...”