Chapter 11: Thanks For The Rescue

I closed my office door behind me, striding swiftly down the three steps and across the stone floor to where Ram waited.

I knew Henemordonin would find time to personally chastise me for leaving dinner so abruptly, but I couldn't care less

what he wanted and actually welcomed the confrontation for once.

Sequoia hurried along at my side, Jabut sealing the door with power before joining us. Pagomaris stood next to my desk,

wringing her hands as Ram uncrossed his arms from over his wide chest and bowed to me.

"Ruler," he said. "I'm sorry to intrude on your dinner." His tone was lighter than it had been when he appeared at the

dining room door, but I could still see the tightness around his eyes, the way his muscles bunched and shifted under the

thin fabric of his white shirt, all signs of stress.

"Thanks for the rescue," I said, mouth as dry as my words as I went on. "Now, tell me what you found out that's so

important it couldn't wait until the pack of idiots I just left nectared themselves into stupidity."

Ram's façade of cocky calm cracked. He ran one hand through his hair, and only then did I notice his right horn was

scuffed, as though he'd been in a fight. Immediate worry for his well- being pushed me forward, my fingers slipping over

the rough patch as he spoke. We were so close, my face just below his, I inhaled his breath as he answered me.

"We all scoffed at the possibility," he said, the rumbling of his voice making my skin vibrate. "Demons are the most

anti-organized religious race the Creator ever conceived."

"And yet?" Sequoia's soft voice broke through the private bubble holding Ram and I, though she didn't shatter it.

His eyes left mine a moment, glancing over my head before lowering to meet my gaze once again. "Ruler," he said, "you

have an infestation of religion in the outer planes. And it's spreading rapidly."

Cold fingers traced light patterns over my skin as goosebumps rose to attention. "This is insane." Where had the abrupt

about face come from? What kind of religion could lure selfish and self-serving demons into its folds?

"The followers call themselves the Planeless," Ram said. "And those who convert to it do so quickly, with little

convincing."

"Magic?" I stepped back from him. "It has to be some kind of coercion."

He shook his head, anger appearing, more out of frustration than real temper. "There is nothing," he said. "No hint of

power being used." His amber eyes fired as he dropped his hands to his sides. "I have no explanation for you."

"What is their mandate?" Bless Sequoia for stepping forward while my mind churned. I could feel Ahbi listening, though

she had as yet to contribute. I just hoped she'd stop sulking over Elphremantic's conversation and see this was more

important.

I'm not sulking, she sent. Now listen to the boy.

Ram's shoulders twitched. "Mandate." His lips worked around the word as though it gave him pain to speak it. "Peace," he

said. "Harmony. Kindness." He looked stunned, almost amused. "While on the surface such a goal is perhaps enviable, it's

oddly repulsive in action." He shuddered visibly, rubbing his hands together. "But there's more. And this is the part

worrying me the most." Ram sat on the edge of my desk, fingers gripping the edge tightly as he leaned back. "The

converted are powerless."

Now that is a problem, Ahbi sent, tone so sharp I winced from it.

"Powerless how?" I shoved her back and focused on Ram. "Are they being stripped?" If so, not only was it illegal to strip

demons without trial, their pretense of preaching peace and demonly love was nothing but a lie.

A fake religion with power hunger behind it? That I would buy.

"Not at all," Ram said, shattering my attempt at understanding. "It's the most baffling bit in this whole situation. The

demons in question give up their magic willingly, without a fight, and without becoming empty shells in the end."

Normally, if a demon was stripped of their magic, they reverted at best to a child-like state and at worst into a mere

empty husk.

"How is this possible?" I knew I sounded like a dumbstruck girl, because I felt like one.

"I don't know," Ram said, his grim words buzzing with power. "As soon as I understood what was happening, I returned

immediately. But, Ruler, more investigation is necessary now the rumors have been confirmed."

"If they are giving of their power willingly," Sequoia said, tiny fingers tapping her chin as her little brow furrowed,

"it's possible they are avoiding being emptied through acceptance. Consider," she dropped her hand, her agile mind

hurrying her normally choice words, "the reason demons become a mere shell upon the loss of their power comes, not from

the loss itself, but from the fight damaging some vital part of them."

"I'm not willing to test your theory," I said, "but it sounds logical." About as logical as any of this.

"Whoever is behind it," Ram said, "has the advantage of not only creating a willing group of followers, but has been, I

can only guess, accumulating their power along the way."

Ahbi writhed inside me. Thief!

"We need to find their leader," I said while real fear-not the nebulous worry I'd been feeling, but the genuine, gut-

wrenching article-ached in the center of my chest. "And put a stop to this."

"I've attempted to do so," Ram said. "The followers of the Planeless way guard their leader carefully. I'm baffled by the

fact I've been unable to track him-or her-through magical means. There is simply no trail to find." His face crumpled a

moment before he shook his head.

Chill daggers of pain joined the ball of fear in my heart. "No trail," I said, lips barely moving as my breath caught and

my mind went places I didn't expect it to go. "The Brotherhood."

It was a short leap to Syd's old foes. The dark sorcerers of her plane hid themselves behind the emptiness of their

magic. Though we thought them defeated, was it possible they somehow still had influence? I certainly wouldn't put it

past them. And the similarity to the subtlety of this Planeless cult-I could think of it as nothing but-certainly felt

like something the Brotherhood would do.

Ahbi grunted, as though I'd struck her with my words while Ram looked suddenly startled. Impossible, my grandmother sent.

They are human, mortals of your mother's plane. There are no Brotherhood sorcerers here. No sorcerers, for that matter.

I believed her. But a tiny part of me held the terror close. "You know to whom I refer?"

Ram nodded slowly, breath coming a little fast. "I do," he said.

"Is it possible those of the Brotherhood were able to cross to Demonicon?" Their sorcery was undetectable by normal

magical means. Which made them an immediate choice of threat, even as I scoffed at the possibility.

Ram didn't answer, frowning at the floor.

"I need to know." I touched his arm, his face rising, gaze locking with mine.

He reached back, squeezing my hand. "My Ruler," he said. "You shall have your answers." Ram's face tightened into resolve

before softening as he released my hand. "I'll leave at once."

"Not alone." I spun and gestured to Jabut. My guard captain stepped immediately forward and saluted. "I want the two of

you to be careful," I said, heart pounding for them both, though I was willing to admit my concern lay closer to my heart

with Rameranselot. "Report back at least every twelve hours. And, under no circumstances, engage the Planeless unless you

absolutely have to."

Ram's scowl preceded a quickly drawn breath. I didn't allow him to argue.

"Please," I said. "Ram, please."

He released his inhale and nodded. I watched as Jabut joined him, the two striding to the large window at the far end of

my office, stepping out into the waiting transport that rose to greet them.

It can't be the Brotherhood, Ahbi sent.

I took some comfort from her insistence, thinking of Syd and wondering if I should involve my sister. But how could I

bring this to Syd, without any kind of proof? Besides, Ahbi's words left me with a gaping question.

If not, then who? And what-for I couldn't bring myself to believe the company line of peace and love-was their ultimate

aim?

***

I paced the halls outside my bedchamber as the evening turned into the darkest hours of the night. No amount of

reassurance from Sequoia or Pagomaris could ease my troubled mind, and Ahbi's stubborn resistance to anything regarding

the discussion I'd had with Elphremantic only made things more complicated.

My grandmother retreated from me again once Ram and Jabut left, refusing to talk about the possibilities. Time with only

my own mind for company was a rarity, and I welcomed the respite. Yes, she was still there with me, and I knew she would

hear what I was thinking if she focused, but it was as close to being alone as I had been in years and accepted it with a

breath of relief.

The only unfortunate part of being alone in my own thoughts was I had no one to work out issues with. I grew up as part

of a powerful coven, though segregated slightly because of my visible heritage and overlooked often due to the rise and

dominance of my very powerful sister. I had Sassafras, of course, to lean on and talk with, but even he was far too busy

with more important things in the last few years I spent in Wilding Springs to have time for me. Bitterness lingered,

though I did my best to heal it. The needs of a girl were far outstripped by the risks to an entire plane. I knew this in

my heart. I grew up understanding responsibility and commitment to family were of the utmost importance.

Just for once, I would have loved it if someone put me first.

I looked down at my still feet, realizing I'd come to a halt while I wallowed in self-pity and prodded myself into

movement again. Old hurts wouldn't help me now. I accepted this position knowing full well it would mean being on my own,

without support. Only now was I realizing I craved what Syd had. Except I would never gain her position, not only because

I wasn't maji, one of the oldest races, as she was, but because I chose to be Ruler to a race who would never support me

the way the coven did her.

I shook my head at my own defeatism, biting my lower lip while my bare feet made soft slapping sounds on the cold stone

floor. The quiet pressed in around me, only faint light warming the air of the hall, the odd guard at attention more like

furniture than living, breathing demons. I did have support. I was beginning to gather more to me, in fact. Pagomaris

with her steadfast and unconditional loyalty, for one. Sequoia and her soft advice, for another. Jabuticabron may not

have been a friend, if only because he wouldn't unbend enough to allow friendship, but his commitment was never in

question. And Ram.

I thought of Elphremantic, then, of his enthusiasm and faith in me I worried was unfounded. He might make a new addition

to my collection of support. Henemordonin's attempt to marry me off might have succeeded in creating a firmer foundation

for me to work from. The idea his own desires might serve me in the end made me laugh out loud.

My moment of jocularity was broken as a shadowy form detached from the darkness of a doorway and came to a halt before

me.

***