"My Ruler," Pagomaris beamed a smile at me as she bowed while her minions dressed me the next morning. "Your caravan
awaits you for departure."
"About damned time," I muttered, shooing off the three maiden demons who fussed over the hem of my heavy skirt. It
clacked with irritating abruptness as the large panels of thick plastic they'd sewn into the seam swung and clanked
against each other.
I glared at my aide who appeared instantly distressed.
"You don't like it," she said.
If anyone was ever closer to being yelled at... my temper had worn to a frayed edge and she was a convenient target. Only
the sad look on her face kept me from screeching my irritation at Pagomaris for dressing me in the most inappropriate
travel outfit I'd ever seen-or had the misfortune to wear, for that matter. A towering collar, higher than my
impressively piled hair, dominated the gigantic shoulder plates and bulky wrist cuffs in a way I didn't think possible.
Ahbi sighed. Let it go, she sent.
You're kidding me, I snarled back. I look ridiculous. While I rarely argued with my aide over her choice of wardrobe,
often enjoying the elaborate get-ups she came up with, I was in no mood to be a walking spectacle today.
"Take it off," I said, voice level and cold despite the desperate urge I felt to increase my volume by about a million
decibels. "Now."
She pouted and complained with her expression, a true mistress of guilt, but this battle I would win.
By the time she had me stripped down to the thin leather body suit I'd worn under the giant contraption, Pagomaris wept
softly. Sequoia quickly bundled her off, eyes widening at me as her jaw clenched, apparently blaming me for my aide's
state.
I huffed myself down from the dressing platform, glaring until the maidens fled-within seconds, truth be told, their
forced departure requiring little effort on my part. Impatience dominating my mind, I dove into my wardrobe and pulled
free a thin, lace poncho. I loved it but had only worn it twice. Pagomaris hated when I repeated outfits, claiming it was
my responsibility to set the stage for fashion on Demonicon.
You give her too much leeway, Ahbi sent as I slipped the curtain of lace over my head, my hair making it almost
impossible as the giant, three-hived wrap she'd made of my curls caught and pulled. She's turned you into a doll to be
played with and mocked.
Grandmother, I sent as coldly as I could muster, sending a chill from my witch magic through the demon fire holding us
together, you can be a real bitch sometimes.
Yes, dear, she sent.
I glanced in the mirror, aware there was nothing, at this point, I could do with my hair, though at least my attempt at
dressing myself hadn't succeeded in ruining what Pagomaris created. I'd had enough of her tears without having to endure
her huffing and sniffing over my head.
At least the sparkling wrap I now wore was more to my taste, the heavy lace falling to the floor around me in a drape of
crystal-covered darkness. I slipped my hands through the subtly crafted sleeves hidden inside the drape, fingertips
emerging through the surface.
It will do, Ahbi sent. Now, shall we finally get this show on the road?
My thoughts exactly, I sent.
I made it partway to the door when I realized my quarters weren't as empty as I first thought. Bakari stood by the
window, watching me with his cold eyes. How had he made it past my guards? And had he watched me dress? My cheeks heated
as I switched directions immediately, joining him as he turned to look down and out the window. I sighed, embarrassment
fading, at the sight of what had to be a hundred transports, some small and sleek, others gigantic, loaded down with
guards and trunks, packed with eager demons of lesser planes waiting for me.
"Any news?" I looked away, stomach churning at the thought of the swath we were about to make across Demonicon and hoping
somehow this would all work out.
"Of the Planeless, no," he said. "Though I have spoken to the leaders of my order. They are concerned by my report and
are willing to discuss tactics with you once they have investigated further."
How nice of them, Ahbi sent.
"I advise caution," I said, ignoring her dry sarcasm. "One of my own people fell victim to the cult after only the
briefest of contact. The other barely escaped to tell me of his fate."
Bakari's amber eyes narrowed. His were very dark, deeper than most demons, filled with swirling black lines. "Who?"
"Rameranselot," I said as Bakari's face tightened with anger. "You know him?"
"You're certain he was not using subterfuge?" He always felt dangerous to me, but no more so than now, hovering over me
with the threat of violence quivering in the air between us.
"Positive." Years spent trying to stand up to Henemordonin while he yelled at me served me in this instance, my voice
level, though nothing could prepare me for Bakari's true anger. I was certain at any moment he would lash out and kill me
with a single blow and not even the power of Demonicon would be able to save me.
He finally backed down, head swiveling abruptly as he stared out into the morning. "I will pass this information along,"
he said, his normally soft and crisp voice harsh. "We will take every precaution."
Bakari left me without another word, striding for the door which he closed firmly behind him. I stood there a long
moment, breathing, just breathing, both hands pressed to my chest as my lungs and heart gradually slowed.
Still shaken, I left my quarters, almost running into Sequoia. She took one look at me and frowned, hand on my arm, but I
shook my head and moved on, head high, reaching for the cloak that was Ruler while Ahbi hugged me.
Well done, she sent. He scared me, too, you know.
The elevator descended quickly, delivering me to the transport bay while I exhaled the last of my fright and strode with
false confidence toward my personal craft. Jabuticabron stood next to it, gesturing with a sour expression toward one of
the larger transports, already packed with chattering demons.
"My Ruler," he said. "Your court awaits you."
I came to a firm halt, scowling at him. "I'm taking my own craft," I said. "Stand aside."
Jabuticabron's face twitched even as a shadow fell over us.
"Ruler," Henemordonin's huge hand landed on my shoulder, squeezing without a hint of gentleness. "Shall we?" He gestured
at the big transport, eyes glowering, waiting for a fight.
Son of a... I let the swear trail off as Ahbi agreed, though with far more of an "I told you so" feeling to her than I
liked.
The demons in my path parted rapidly as, still fuming, I stormed my way onto the full transport and, shields firmly
creating a path, I forced my way to the front and sat without grace in the foremost seat, right hand side. Henemordonin
took his ponderous time, greeting family as he went. I could hear him smooth-talking his way forward, refusing to
participate as I glared out the softly tinted shielding now in place into the first three suns of morning. When he
finally sat, the transport powered up. I would have preferred to control it myself, but that, too, was out of my hands as
the four pilots seated behind us joined magicks and stirred the large carrier into motion.
A fanfare of blaring pipes, much like trumpets only sounding more of bagpipes with a chest cold, pealed out across the
city as we soared forward. The curved surface of the bubble of power reflected back to me the long line of transports
floating along behind us, an endless train of ridiculousness.
It was going to be a very long trip.
A furred body leaped into my lap, Sassafras's heavy weight settling down.
This is stupid, I sent.
Welcome to being Ruler, he sent as Ahbi laughed.
It's not as if you would have been able to sneak around anyway, she sent. Even if you had known not to accept your
grandfather's terms, either he would have found a way to delay you and come about to this result, or made sure every city
on the planes knew you were coming.
And isn't this the point? Sass's claws dug into my legs through the thin leather suit. To give them a show while the rest
of us do some investigating?
I'm more curious why your grandfather didn't argue with you this time, Ahbi sent, suddenly sobering. I caught sight of
him out of the corner of my eye. He was watching me and his intent attention made me nervous.
All part of his plan to get rid of me, I guess, I sent. Why else?
Ahbi didn't respond, but Sassafras did.
If you're worried, he sent, I'm worried. We'll keep an eye on him. In the meantime, we have to focus on the Planeless and
hope whatever Henemordonin has cooking stays on the back burner until we can find out what's really going on.
I wasn't hopeful.
***