Chapter 22

We dawdled in the dining room for a couple of hours, noshing and nibbling and nattering. Well, not so much nattering as 'sniping and backbiting' but two out of three was better than nothing. I left them alone to their brattiness and went to lie by the fire. The heat felt nice.

The sun was only halfway to overhead when the banging came. My people jumped to their feet, hands on weapons, and spun to face the dining hall door. Pasha burst out of the door of the kitchen and raced outside to where Millicent, the caravansary's defensive battlesuit, stood waiting. The others trailed behind, with me bringing up the rear since I had to squeeze out the door.

Millicent was the older and more battered step-sister of the wartech's battle armor that we had earlier seen jumping onto rooftops and firing beams of golden light from its fingers. She was six feet tall with feet the size and shape of snowshoes, a transparent dome over the pilot's compartment, a patch welded onto her chest, and a left arm that was twisted slightly out of true. The built-in backpack that housed her boiler was pitted on the outside.

Despite her battle-worn appearance, she was well cared for. Her exposed copper piping was polished within an inch of its life, her paint was fresh and neat, and her pilot dome closed smoothly as Pasha leaped aboard. The arms came up, a soft hmmmm emanating from them as the surprisingly bloodthirsty teenage daughter of an otherworldly hotel owner prepared to defend her otherworldly hotel.

"You inside! Open up!" called a voice from outside the gate.

"We're closed! Go away!" Pasha shouted, clomping towards the gate.

"There's three licks of demons and a blaze of fire elementals on their way! Open up!"

"Don't you threaten me, you rat bastard! If you don't go away, I'll—"

"I'm here to protect this place, you idiot! Open up!"

Pasha paused, lowering her arms in confusion.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Accordant Erathos Deimos, and I've tracked the source of the problems to this place. I'm sure I'm not the only one who has, so open the hells up!"

Millicent didn't have much range of motion so Pasha had to move her feet in order to turn far enough to see us. I couldn't smell her through the dome, which was distinctly unsettling, but she looked both scared and uncertain.

"Don't let him in," Eugene said. "It's a trick."

"Let him in," Marcus said at almost the same moment. "The walls aren't going to keep him out if he's determined."

Pasha looked at him for a moment, then nodded inside her bubble cockpit. She twisted forward.

"Don't be an idiot!" Eugene snapped. "Kid, get back here!"

Pasha ignored him, clomping over to the gate and lifting the heavy bar aside with powered ease.

A man in flamboyant red slipped inside. He reminded me of pictures of storks that I'd seen on the noisybox when Mom was watching one of those David Attenborough programs. Tall, with a beak of a nose and thin as though the flesh had been pared away with a sharp knife. He wore close-fitting red pants and shirt, but what could have been a dramatic effect was ruined by the fact that it was all rumpled linen instead of something more dramatic. His scarlet hat was wide-brimmed with a spray of two-foot feathers bobbing along behind and various overly complicated gewgaws at the front.

The gewgaws blinked at me and I suddenly realized that no, that was not a collection of beads and jewels, it was a bird. Something like a miniature peacock perched on top of Deimos's head.

"Who are you?" Pasha demanded, pointing both of Millicent's arms at his face from barely a foot away. "Why are you here?"

He waved dismissively. "We don't have time for that. Are you the one with the orichalcum?"

"No, that's us," I said through Murray.

"Athos!" Eugene snapped.

"We're keeping that quiet, remember?" Marcus muttered, not taking his eyes off the stranger. His spear was tipped slightly in the man's direction, not actually pointing at him but ready, and his feet were in a casual battle stance. Eugene had his hand on his sword but hadn't drawn yet, and Estelle had an arrow on the string but it was pointed at the ground.

"He already knows it's here," I said defensively. "We don't want Pasha getting in trouble."

"Hey! I'm in charge here!" the girl in question said, waving one arm. "You! Deimos! Look at me when you're talking!"

"Calm down, kid," Deimos said, brushing past her and ducking under the massive arm that she tried to put in his way. By the time she got Millicent turned around he had already reached us. He was careful to stop a little out of the reach of Marcus's spear and he raised empty hands.

"How much more orichalcum is there?"

"Not much." / "None."

Oh dear. Marcus and Eugene were stepping on each other again.

"Look, I'm on your side, okay? So stop bullshitting. I can tell that there's some of it here." He reached out and twisted his hand, conjuring one of our orichalcum scales from thin air. "I've got a tracking spell based on similarity, and there's only so many things in this city that accord with this thing. By far the largest group of those things is here, so I'm guessing you've got a lot more of these."

Eugene and Marcus exchanged annoyed glowers. After a moment Marcus gave a grudging 'go on' toss of his chin.

"Okay, we've got a few more," Eugene said. "You want to buy?"

"Right now I want to get you and your loot into a non-accord room so that the demons don't come here and take it, then use it to conquer the city. Where is it?"

Raaawk! The peacock sat up and started shifting around on Deimos's head.

He looked up without moving his head, but clearly couldn't see through the brim of the hat to actually perceive his pet. "What's up, Argos?"

Rawk!

"Wait, what?"

Rawk!

"Murray, what's it saying?" Marcus asked.

"Foist, I don' woik fah you so don't be askin' me nuttin'. Second, beats da blessin' outta me. Ain't got no language pack fah dat."

"What are you?" Deimos asked me. "Argos called you 'the sun'. What's he talking about?" He shook his head. "No, wait. Never mind, not important right now. We need to get you lot out of here. Get your gear and the orichalcum. You're coming with me." His attempt at a firm and decisive order flopped like melting ice cream.

"They aren't going anywhere!" Pasha snapped. "They are guests here, and they're under my protection."

"Move it," Deimos said impatiently, ignoring her completely. "Get your stuff before the demons get here. Where's the orichalcum? Do you have transport for it?"

"Why should we trust you?" Estelle asked.

Deimos rolled his eyes at her. "Feel free to stick around if you want. It's a throw of the bones whether you end up talking to Lord Gliv, the City Council, or one of the dozen mages that I personally know are looking for you. No other Accordants, fortunately, so their tracking spells are garbage. Still, they'll find you eventually. Some of these people are literally demigods. You don't want to mess with them."

"Lord Gliv?" I asked faintly. "He's the demon lord from—"

"Athos!" Estelle snapped.

I cringed.

"So you do know who he is," Deimos said. "Good. Look, some idiot sold a bunch of your scales to a friend of mine. She knew they were a hot potato and dumped them as fast as she could to anyone who would buy. Half the city already knows that they're around and there's wild rumors. I don't believe that you lot killed Lord Gliv in direct combat and looted his corpse—was he already dead, maybe? Or did you just find a spare suit of his armor? Wait, never mind. Not important right now. Get your gear, we have to go. Where's the orichalcum? Do you have transport for it? I asked that earlier but you didn't answer. I've got a non-accord room waiting but we need to get there first. I think I said that part too. Hurry up!"

I could smell Eugene get angry at the words 'some idiot'. Marcus tensed up at the same time but neither of them looked at the other.

"You still haven't explained why we should go with you," Marcus noted. "We've only got your word for any of this and this 'non-accord' room of yours sounds like a trap."

"It's not a trap! It's the only chance you have to oh bugger." He sighed and relaxed, looking up over our heads and then starting to back away, spreading his hands wide in a non-threatening 'I have no weapons, please don't shoot' sort of way.

"You there! Halt by order of the Council!"

I turned around and looked up to find a human man and two other people swooping down on magic carpets. The one on the left looked like an animated armoire with an angry human face, except it was slowly morphing into a table. The one on the right was a snake as thick as my leg, its head weaving slowly above its coiled-up body, its tongue occasionally flickering out to taste the air. Rainbow-feathered wings sprouted from its neck, each of them the size of a pillowcase.

"And who might you be?" Marcus called, shifting his feet and backing up so that he could face the newcomers as they landed while still keeping Deimos in his peripheral vision. Estelle was to his left, arrow on string, with Eugene to her left. I moved to Marcus's right, teeth bared.

The animated table sprouted a lamp with a demonic face on it, the needle-toothed mouth hissing at me. "We are representatives of the City Council. You have endangered the city as a whole and are therefore under arrest. You will all come with us so that we can secure you until this is sorted out."

"Hey, I'm not with them," Deimos said. "I was just here to try to minimize the damage."

"And who are you?"

Deimos swallowed nervously. "Nobody. Nobody important, I mean. Just a guy trying to do the right thing."

"," said the winged snake. "Ah. Accordant Candidate Erathos Deimos, fifth-year student in the Accordantium, studying under Accordant Martos Calaway. Terrible picture on your student ID. Ranked 431st out of a class of 907. Currently working on a non-accord room as your senior thesis project. According to your academic advisor's personal journal you have put forward the beginnings of a novel theoretical framework that shows significant promise but thus far you have lacked the discipline to properly ground it."

Deimos seemed taken aback. "She said that I lack discipline?" He paused, and then his face lit up. "Hang on, she called my framework promising? Oh, Terris, that's wonderful! Maybe I can—"

"Focus," said the human Council representative. "Ayar, do we need to concern ourselves with him?"

"I doubt it," the snake said, the words slightly distorted by its constantly-flickering tongue. "I see records on him going back ten years and he's never had any interactions with the Infernals that I can find. Same for the girl in the battlesuit, assuming that's Pasha Grotham which it probably is. The dog and the three humans are new in town, so it's almost certainly them."

"I thought you were an Accordant," I said to Deimos, cocking my head in confusion. "He said that you're a candidate?"

The snake cleared its throat quite dramatically. "I am a zeth, if you please. Not a he. Also, perhaps focus on the important part?"

"Oh! I'm sorry. I've never met a talking snake before. I assumed. What's a zeth anyway? Is that snake for 'girl'?"

The snake curved its neck into a 'U' so it could look down its snoot at me. "Zeth is zeth, not boy or girl or it. Also, I'm not a snake, and one should never assume. For example, how would you like it if I referred to you as 'she'?"

I blinked in confusion. "I...guess it would feel weird? Are you likely to do that?"

"Ayar, could we please not do the connotative linguistic embedding debate right now?" the animated floor lamp said as it began twisting itself into a spiral staircase the size of a fire hydrant. Its tone was that of one retreading a familiar and frustrating argument. "We need to get the orichalcum and deliver it to Lord Gliv's herald before it finishes the summoning."

Ayar, as the not-snake was apparently named, looked at its companion with disapproval that was conveyed solely through body language, as its—as zeth's face had no lips or eyelids. "The furniture will stop being dismissive."

"I'm not fur—okay, yes. Point taken. Now, would you mind?"

"Of course." Zeth looked down on us. "Outlanders, the City Council has invoked the exigent circumstances doctrine and claimed emergency powers. Under those powers, the four of you are bound by law and such of your resources as are necessary for the preservation of the city have been appropriated to the common good. That specifically means the orichalcum. Once the current emergency is alleviated a tribunal will be convened to assess the propriety of these actions and determine appropriate charges and recompense to the involved parties, to whit the four of you, the Council representatives who are serving the warrant, and those Council members who authorized the invocation of the exigent circumstances doctrine. Do you understand this announcement as I have given it to you?"

"Under what right are you taking our stuff?" Eugene demanded. "This is Hellsport. There's no laws here. You believe in the rights of the individual above all else, especially the right to property."

"It does seem unfair, doesn't it?" the staircase said. It was slowly melting downwards and spreading out; I couldn't tell what it was going to become. "It's basically 'might makes right', kid. The city's burning, Lord Gliv's troops are in the streets, and one of his heralds is currently performing a summoning ritual that's going to bring a major demon here. We're hoping it's not Lord Gliv himself. The only way to shut it down is to hand over the orichalcum, so we're taking your stuff. There's other Council reps looking for the scales you already sold."

"The tribunal will recompense you once this is over," the human said. "Now, where is—"

"Oh, please," the staircase said. Its lower portions had started to drift upwards again, forming into four V-shaped legs. "Don't pull that nonsense, Barty. They're going to be handed over to the demons and you know it." It snorted. "They caused an invasion. And even if they didn't, you and the other Islanders are hardly going to want to pay tens of millions each in damages to a bunch of outlanders."

The human, Barty, turned to his companion. "Damnit, Malak! Do you mind? I can't believe they assigned you to this job! If—"

"Oh, like you're one to talk, Mr. High-and-Mighty Islander!" Ayar hissed. "Arrogant bigot like you? You're more likely to kill them just so that you don't have to deal with the tribunal!"

"Listen, you snotty piece of belt! Don't you—"

I felt a tap on my shoulder and looked over to find a strained-looking Deimos with a finger to his lips in a shushing gesture. He gestured for me to follow him as he started sneaking off towards the stables, the other three in tow.

o-o-o-o

"What just happened?" Marcus asked once we were under cover.

"The City Council reps wanted to arrest you," Deimos said. "I moved the social accordance from the area around them to the area around me, as a distraction. Fortunately, they didn't like each other very much so it led to them arguing. Now get your orichalcum and let's get out of here."

"Why are you helping us?" Eugene demanded. "What's in it for you?"

"Proof of my theory, for one. Which I think I just got, since I was able to operate on social accordance the way one normally would on intrinsic or characteristic accordance. Well, the removal definitely worked. I'm not sure if you lot came with me because of the increased social accordance in our area or because you aren't dumb. Need to—wait, that's not important right now. Um...right! The other thing I get, hopefully, is some of the orichalcum. If you've got as much as I'm sensing then you should be able to spare a dozen scales. It would make my future."

"We aren't giving you—"

"We'll talk about it later," Marcus said firmly. "For now, let's get out of here. How long will they be tied up?"

"Not long. In fact, the effect may already have worn off. See, accordance is like water. Or maybe air. Yes, air. Much better example because water won't flow up but air will. Accordance is strongest and easiest to manipulate in regards to non-agents—well, strongest among magical non-agents...oh, actually, among magical non-agents from this Realm, and especially from this domain. Agency generates accordance, so that obviously interferes. On the other hand, things from outside this domain usually have a sweet-blue-east alignment as opposed to our sweet-green-east—oh, obviously the labels aren't literal—"

"Later," Estelle said. "More running, less talking."

"We aren't going to be able to take the cargo clank with us," Marcus said. "It's too slow. Deimos, where is this shield room of yours?"

"Hang on," Eugene said. "I am not leaving the box here. If they managed to track it—"

There was a shriek from outside, followed almost immediately by an explosion. Something heavy slammed into the door of the stables, hitting hard enough to make the heavy doors shake.

"Shit," Deimos said. "Sounds like the demons caught up to us. The elementals will be here any minute and there's probably more behind them. We need to move."

"Right," Marcus said. "Which way?"

"That way," said Deimos, pointing at the north side of the stables. "It's about two miles, over at the—"

"Hang on," Eugene said over his shoulder as he moved to the stall in which our rented cargo clank waited. "I'm not leaving all of it."

"Damnit, Eugene," Marcus growled. Despite his annoyance, he followed along.

The stall was locked but Marcus, Estelle, and Eugene all had keys. The clank stood inside, nine feet of potbellied, stubby-legged humanoid steam-powered robot with eyes that glowed a flickering red. It had three arms, two massive ones in the usual place and one thin one that sprouted from the right shoulder. A heavy 'backpack' contained the boiler while the belly held the cargo compartment. (Eugene had paid extra for a clank with a secure compartment, instead of getting the more streamlined base model that only carried things in its arms.) He pulled the concealing tarp off of it, muttered the control words, and the belly swung out and down, forming a table to which our box was magically attached.

"We don't have time for this," Marcus muttered. He obviously knew it was pointless to argue because he followed Eugene's example in flipping the box open and shoveling scales into a pair of feedbags that hung on the wall. Our backpacks and gear were up in our rooms and there was no time to get them.

Outside, I could hear the sounds of combat, human and inhuman voices shouting in languages I didn't understand and the three Council representatives calling out Skill names.

"Ah, crap," Murray muttered. "Dose are Lord Gliv's troops. Dere all shoutin' t'ings like 'Fah da glory ah Lord Gliv. An' from dah voices I'm guessin' dat dere malazaheen—elites, not stupid balor infantry. If dey find us, we're boned."

"You said 'we'," I said, tongue lolling happily. "I told you you liked us."

Murray grumbled. "I'm ya translatah imp, dat's all. I'm jes worried about my own skin heah. Youse guys ah humans—well, mortals. All dey can do ta you is kill ya, but I'm from da Thoid Pit. Da t'ings dey'll do ta me..." He shuddered.

"That's enough," Estelle said. "Leave the rest of it. We need to go." She was standing outside the stall with her bow in hand and an arrow on the string, watching the doors of the stable.

"But—fine," Eugene grumbled. He tossed a last handful into his bag and pulled it shut. Marcus was already out of the stall with his two feedbags tied together by a strip of rawhide. He slung them over his shoulder and used a second strip to knot them under his arm.

"How do we do this?" he asked.

"If we can get out this window we can get over the wall," Deimos called from the hay loft above us.

I looked at the ladder that led to the loft. "Um...I can't climb that."

"The hoist," Marcus said, pointing up to where a block-and-tackle supported a wooden platform. "It's how they get the hay bales up." He found the relevant rope and started lowering the platform.

"How do you know about this?" Eugene asked.

"Not all of us were born rich. Some of us had to work for a living."

"Hey, asshole, you don't know—"

"Boys."

"Fuck you," Eugene snapped. "That little shit doesn't get to snip at me and then have you cover his ass."

"That does not look safe," I said, looking at the platform that Marcus had lowered. It wasn't quite as long as I was so I was going to be hunching my feet together and overhanging on both ends. Also, it was made with sturdy ropes and thick boards, but this giant blunky body of mine was heavy. Probably heavier than a bunch of hay bales.

"It'll be fine," Marcus said. "We'll—"

There was a whump at the front gate of the stables. The bar holding it shut creaked as the doors strained and rebounded back. Dust rained from the ceiling and I smelled smoke.

"The fire elementals arrived and I see a tinkermage on his way with an army of miniclanks," Deimos called. "They're all still fighting in the main courtyard. This side should be out of sight but we really need to go."

"Up you go, Athos," Estelle said. "Come on. Keep your feet at the corners."

I whined but stepped carefully onto the platform. I kept my feet at the corners like she had said. It required bending them inwards from where they wanted to be. I didn't like it.

The rope looped four times between the pulley on the ceiling and the pulley attached to the platform, meaning that they needed to pull a lot of rope in order to lift me at all. When Marcus tried it on his own the platform didn't move and he lifted himself off the ground. Estelle helped him and between the two of them they started to raise me.

"I don't mean to bother you," I said. "But I think the barn is on fire."

"It's fine," Eugene said from above me. "We'll get you out."

I was facing away from the door but I could hear crackling from behind me and the smoke was now thick enough that I could see it as well as smell it. Marcus and Estelle were coughing as they pulled me up. Deimos and Eugene were holding cloths over their mouths and noses.

"When you get up here, we're going to need to jump down, then climb over the wall," Deimos said. "Dog, are you going to be able to do that?"

"His name is Athos, not 'Dog'," Eugene said. "The window is higher than the wall and only about fifteen feet away. You can jump out the window and land on the other side of the wall. Right buddy?"

I whined some more.

I was rising slowly; my head was just below the level of the hay loft. I could hear fire crackling loudly behind me and the air was turning to haze. Also, I could feel heat on my bum despite the stable doors being thirty feet away.

{How bad is the fire?} I asked Murray. I didn't dare twist around to see behind me for fear that I would slip off the platform.

He sprouted ears and a tail so that he could speak Dog instead of out loud. {Fire bad. Fire big. Home on fire, big. Door is fire. Want go walkies. Want go walkies now.}

"You're almost here," Eugene said from above me, clearly trying to sound encouraging. "Hang in there."

There was a massive crash and fragments of the door flew past me, slamming into Marcus and sending him to the ground. Despite the blood flowing from his nose he held onto the rope; the platform jerked and bounced but it didn't fall.

Something roared from behind me, but I was already in motion. I tipped forward and leaped, hitting the ground in a spraddle of limbs. I whacked my head on the ground and bit my tongue, but I shrugged that off, rolled back to my feet, and lunged towards the door with Mystic Acceleration speeding my steps. Out of the corner of my eye I caught Marcus and Estelle running for the ladder to the hay loft.

The demon had smashed in the door and stuck its head and shoulders through the hole in order to see what was inside. It was nine feet tall, built something like a bear with four forward-facing horns on its face and a round, needle-toothed mouth like Simon's.

It ripped the stable door out of its way and stepped in, its eight insectile-centaur legs skittering across the stable's wooden floor. It shrieked a war cry and pounded its chest in challenge. It shouldn't have done that. It should have kept the claws facing me, and I was going to make it pay for that mistake.

At the last moment I juked right and leaped, hitting it at an upwards angle and from the side instead of straight on. Straight on it could have absorbed the impact. Rising up from the side I flipped it, rode its body to the ground, and got my teeth into its throat. The legs jabbed at me, piercing my sides, but I leapt again without opening my jaws and most of its neck came with me. The blood fountained, thick and dark and tasting like dead rat.

"Run!" Murray shouted for me. He was riding my neck, knees clenched tight and tiny hands anchored in my fur as he bent close. He was whimpering in fear but hadn't abandoned me, and that thought gave me a warm glow.

The caravansary's courtyard was a whirling nightmare of monsters and mayhem. The Council representatives flicked back and forth on their flying carpets, twisting around beams of smoke and fire that erupted up from half a dozen demons, blasting back with attacks that turned the ground molten, removed chunks of it from existence, or washed it in fire. Three elementals, living flames that shifted form between snakes and tigers and random blobs, had set everything on fire. A tinkermage was being shielded by two knee-high clockwork men who held a lacy yet remarkably protective umbrella over him, leaving his hands free to hurl razor-winged metal butterflies in all directions.

The not-snake Council representative saw me burst from the stable. "!" zeth shouted. The air around me sparkled.

One of the flocks of attack butterflies looped towards me, their razor wings glinting in the sun. At the same time another of the bear-bug centaurs waved in my direction and sent an arc of shimmering carrot-colored light at my head. The butterflies and the light intersected four yards in front of me and exploded, sending fragments of metal in all directions. They peppered my back with hot sparks even as my Mystic Acceleration timed out. I activated the Skill again and kept moving. I was two-thirds of the way across the courtyard with only one enemy and a wall between me and freedom. The enemy was a massive battleclank, twelve feet tall with six enormous arms each of which sprouted a different weapon, and pauldrons that were actually harpoon launchers, each manned by a smaller clank in a tiny chair. The left-hand launcher swiveled to face me; the gunner shouted "Boom!" and cackled as it pulled the trigger. There was a puff of smoke, a loud noise, and the harpoon leaped at my face, a silvery chain trailing behind it.

I was moving too fast to dodge. Fortunately, I tripped just as the little mechanical man fired. The harpoon barely grazed my back as I slid, drawing blood but no more.

I rolled back to my feet and lunged past the battleclank before the first gunner could finish reloading. The other gunner started to swivel towards me for his own shot but then had to suddenly shift his aim as a fire elemental came in from the side.

I got to the wall and leaped, enhanced muscles and Mystic Acceleration letting me soar up and over with ease. Three beams of light and a gout of fire went past me and I smelled burning hair but I touched down on the other side and ran as though demons were on my tail. As I ran I howled a challenge, loud and long. I couldn't fight all of that, so the only way I could protect my friends was to draw the bad guys after me.