“Do you wish you could see them?”
“Uh, yes? Who wouldn’t?”
Saunak grinned devilishly. “Then allow old Saunak to make your wish come true. Follow me.”
63A CENTURY OF MAGIC
Saunak the Deranged led Vir and Cirayus through another room, this one filled with just as many horrors as the last, though it was the putrid stench that assaulted Vir’s nostrils that tipped him off.
On several tables lay dissected animals, their rotting corpses reeking of preservative chemicals and the stink of death. Nearly gagging, Vir focused on breathing through his mouth as he forced his eyes away, onto the imprisoned beasts that lined the walls.
These cages were bigger, allowing their occupants minimal room to move around. It was a small luxury, Vir supposed, though he wondered why they got special treatment.
That was until he saw the dull inscriptions on their hides.
Vir hesitantly approached a cage, earning a nervous look from Cirayus.
“You’ve inscribed tattoos… on Ash Beasts?” Vir asked incredulously. “I didn’t even think that was possible!”
“It isn’t,” Cirayus said, stroking his beard thoughtfully. “At least, it shouldn’t be. Our thaumaturges have tried before. Not on Ash Beasts—only a fool with a death wish would do such a stupid thing—but on Bandies and Ash’va.”
Saunak cackled proudly. “Don’t let today’s amateurs let you believe otherwise, boy. These so-called ‘experts’ Cirayus talks about would’ve been nothing but squires during my time. That alone ought to tell you just how much our society has declined. Make no mistake about that. Can you begin to imagine what the Aindri stand to gain if they inscribed their beasts? Yet even they dare not even try.”
Saunak coughed, realizing he’d gone off on a tangent. “Of course, the task is… somewhat tricky, I must admit.”
Cirayus scoffed. “You ridicule our thaumaturges, then admit the task is difficult, even for you? What hope would an average demon have?”
“None. But with my guidance—”
“Forget it.”
Whatever had happened between the two in the past, Vir sensed it ran a fair bit deeper than just research practices and a crush on the same woman. Cirayus’ reactions made it seem like they shared a history. It felt personal.
The mad thaumaturge shook his head sadly. “Regardless, you have a point. Even despite my skills, not even I can recover enough of an Ash Beast’s mind to make the inscriptions function. Etching the tattoos is easy enough, but teaching the creatures to actually use them is a nearly useless endeavor. The tattoos go wasted.
“Though, in this way, I must say that Ash Beasts are superior. Did you know their brains are larger than an equivalent prana beast? Take Ash Wolves, for example. Extremely intelligent. Incomparable to their lesser counterparts.” He’s saying that a sane Ash Beast could benefit from inscriptions… Vir thought, immediately thinking of Shan. No wonder he was so interested in him.
Saunak turned to face Vir, and there was a hunger in his eyes. “What do you say, Vir? How about an inscription or two on your Ash Wolf friend?”
It all made sense now. At first, Vir thought it was simply the oddity of spotting an Ash Beast that hadn’t lost its mind that caught the thaumaturge’s interest… But there had been more.
“Absolutely not,” Cirayus said. “That beast is Vir’s companion, and far too precious to trust to the likes of you.”
“The likes of me, is it? You question my competence?” Saunak asked in genuine shock.
“No,” Cirayus replied calmly. “I question your sanity.”
If Vir was honest, he’d like nothing more than to ink Shan up with all sorts of tattoos. If Saunak believed the beast’s mind was the only thing preventing it from learning how to use the tattoo, then Vir was confident it wouldn’t pose a problem for Shan. The wolf had learned his advanced prana manipulation techniques nearly instantly, after all.
And yet, he had to agree with his guardian. Vir had only just met Saunak, and while he hadn’t witnessed the atrocities the demon had, Cirayus didn’t trust him. He reviled him, and Vir valued Cirayus’ opinion. Greatly. The demon had lived for centuries and was beyond wise. If he was issuing a warning, Vir would listen. Whether intentionally or by accident, what if Saunak killed or maimed Shan in the process?
“Perhaps some other time,” Vir said firmly, knowing Saunak wasn’t about to go anywhere. This would hardly be the last time he ventured into the Ash. And next time, he intended to be better informed about Saunak.
The thaumaturge visibly deflated. “Well, I suppose it was worth a try.”
Vir’s eyes narrowed. The thaumaturge’s reaction was calm. Measured. Too calm, Vir thought, given the demon’s reputation. He’d expected a fierce argument, yet Saunak backed off immediately.
Is he up to something? Or am I just being overly paranoid?
Glancing up to Cirayus, it seemed he wasn’t the only one who was surprised.
Vir still didn’t know how to feel. Truthfully, Saunak had done nothing but help them thus far—assuming, of course, the Guardian Automaton that had pursued them hadn’t been one of his own. The demon denied it, but he knew full well there was no way Vir or Cirayus could prove it one way or another.
The demon led them farther into his compound, and Vir began to understand just how colossal the tower really was. There was nearly as much space below ground as there was in the tower proper.
They passed another room, filled with drawings pinned up on the walls, and schematics covering the tables. Vir thought he even spied the blueprint for something that looked suspiciously like a Vimana, but the demon waltzed on through, giving him no time to investigate.
“Don’t you feel anything? Experimenting on these creatures, I mean,” Vir asked. “I know they’re all Ash Beasts, but do you have to be so… cruel about this?”
“A big heart, I see! Ah, but I do only what must be done. Tell me,” Saunak said, stopping and turning to meet Vir’s gaze. “If sacrificing one demon saves the lives of ten thousand, is it worth the loss?”
“I…” Vir couldn’t answer. On the one hand, it seemed like a small price to pay for such a large boon. On the other, what right did he, or anyone else have to reap that life?
That’s rich, considering the people I’ve killed, he thought. Vir concluded he had no right to take the moral high ground here. If anything, wasn’t he similar to Saunak in that way? He’d taken the lives of a slumlord and a royal priest believing that killing them would save countless others.
“So you do,” Saunak said knowingly. “Then what of sacrificing ten? Or a hundred? Where do you draw the line? How?
“My fellow demons were quite happy to look the other way when the numbers were ‘small.’ Hear me, Vir. This is hypocrisy. If you agree to sacrifice one life for the good of the many, you agree to sacrifice as many as it takes. There is no arbitrary number where this suddenly becomes wrong. Ten, a hundred, a thousand… Arbitrary. So long as the benefits outweigh the cost, society gains.”
“Which is why one should not even step a single foot upon this path,” Cirayus said quietly.
“Again the hypocrisy,” Saunak scoffed. “Tell me, Cirayus, if demonkind faced extinction tomorrow, don’t you think they’d come running to me to save them, regardless of cost? Do you think they would care what it took?”
Probably… Vir thought. While he couldn’t speak for the Demon Realm, humans certainly would.
“That’s the thing about morals,” Saunak said. “They’re nice when the times are convenient. When they’re not, well…”
Saunak drew his finger across his neck. “They get thrown right out the window, don’t they?”