Demon of the Black Gate
Chapter 21

Rovinkar was in no hurry to return to the city. There would be no warm reception in Abyssin. His second attempt to recapture the demon was as disasterous as the first, even more so, for it was apparent the demon now had its own agenda. He must replace out where the demon was, and fast. The demon could well be plotting its own retaliation. Rovinkar was so intent on his next move that the return across the desert went virtually unnoticed. It was the horse that smelled and needed the water, and carried him as quickly as it was able.

He acquired rooms again when he reached the Vale of the Houri. He avoided the imaret where Chenli would still be likely holding court. He sought out the marketplace, sparse with pickings as the traders were few in these uncertain days. But he found what he was looking for, a round and shallow silver tray with filigree edges. That it had no etchings or design was best, but any vessel of silver would do. Rovinkar was too impatient to wait for one to be made to his specifications.

It was the size and shape that was most important for the scrying he intended. Back at his rooms he left word not to be disturbed under any circumstances. He gathered pillows and candles for his channeling and poured water in the bowl. He added two drops of solution and waved his hands carefully over the bowl, as though stirring the air would agitate the water below it.

He sat back on his heels, cushioned by the pillow in the manner of the Numerean monks. He held a small bell and striker. He set the first tone aloft and closed his eyes. As the tone died, he sent another one after it, again and again. He kept his eyes closed until he caught his mind traveling with the tone. It was then that he could hear the silver bowl resonating with the vibration of the bell. He envisioned the demon as he had last seen him, the fiery torso standing on the mesa, and sought the cord that connected them through the majics Rovinkar had wrought. He had just to follow that, careful not to jiggle it with his thought. The resonance of the bowl deepened, a dark hum beneath the brightness of the bell. Rovinkar opened his eyes. Or thought he did. The scrying pool lay flat, smoky threads gathered at its edges. Rovinkar felt he was looking over the shoulder of another, and the scene changed in a sweep as someone looking about.

He was surrounded by a simmering awareness, and Rovinkar shut his mind lest it betray his presence. The standing monoliths and great fangs of rock looked familiar and as the gaze continued, the great wall of the Granite Mountains came in to view.

The vista shifted in the scrying, spinning sight that came to rest on a woman. If Rovinkar had not been trained to maintain his trance he would have bolted upright. Even so it sent a ripple along the connection between them. Rovinkar stilled his mind completely as he felt a questioning probe. He dared himself to maintain the link a few more moments. A woman, her face cherubic.

“You have come back.” she said. The smooth, low voice came from a shadowy distance. She was gazing back at him, eyes bright and intense, of the deepest brown. The froth of red-gold curls made her appear radiant as the edges blurred like fire in his second sight.

“Beautiful” the word entered his mind before he could stop it.

He heard his own word repeated … the vibration of a throat not his own. He felt a maddening probe and he broke the connection, gasping for air.

‘Idiot’ he berated himself. He had let the unexpected crack his indoctrinations. His head felt like it was numbed with too much wine. He knelt, head cradled in his hands, Even as he waited for the aching tightness of his temples to ease he was sifting the ramifications of this discovery.

The demon was being controlled by someone else. That explained it. The woman must be a very powerful … ‘witch’ came to mind. If she was that adept she would soon replace the link to himself even if the demon didn’t. The demon would not be fully hers to control until she did. And the most powerful weapon of the empire was now in the hands of the ones they had set out to conquer.

His headache had not cleared but Rovinkar had to act immediately. He rang a bell, a different bell. One to summon his guard. Rovinkar was pouring a glass of wine, chasing one confusion with another when Sinjin appeared.

“I want you to replace someone.” Rovinkar said, tossing back the wine quickly. “And bring her to me.”