Without a word Caderan leaned back, and the Raksha (to my shock) found itself unable to pass the carven circles that surrounded the brazier. Its attack was arrested as though it had hit a wall, though naught but air blocked its way. It screamed. a gut-wrenching scream, and pounded at the barrier, to no avail.
"You waste my time," said Caderan calmly. "Behold, dread lord, you are bound and summoned. You have no choice."
Its yells cut off instantly, as if they had never been. "And what is so worth your life that you summon me thus, puny mortal?" it asked in the same flat tones it had used before.
"Behold, lord," said Caderan, gesturing at me. I went to the wall and unlocked the chains that bound the girl. I put one of her arms about my neck and lifted her, carrying her like a bride to stand before the demon. "This is Marik of Gundar's blood and bone, a pact made and an offering sealed when this one was in the womb. We come to make payment for the Farseer, that Marik's pain may cease."
"Let her speak her dedication," the thing said.
"The offering resists. I would have you dedicate her."
''Wake her then, fool. She must have a will for that will to be taken."
I let her down, let her feet touch the floor and whispered her name softly.
"Lanen. Lanen, wake up."
I shame to admit such weakness, but in that moment I hesitated. She was so near, so young and strong—my daughter, my only child, my blood and bone ...
And then the pain the demons had cursed me with, the pain that has followed me since her birth, stabbed through me in a great spasm, and I was myself again.
I felt her take her own weight and stand on her own feet. She put her hands to her face and rubbed her eyes. "Where am I?" she said groggily. Then she looked up, and in that instant knew all.
"NO!" she screamed with all her might, and strove to throw me off.
I might as well have wrestled with a Dragon. Marik was proof now against my strength, and I felt in his wiry frame strength the equal of my own. I could do no more—
true speech, I desire nothing but true speech
''AKOR! SAVE ME!'' I screamed, in truespeech, aloud, with every fibre of my being. My voice was pitched so high it frightened me.
There was an instant of silence, in which Caderan laughed and the creature before me reached out, but in the next moment all sound was swallowed up in a vast roar.
It came from just outside the cabin.
I was frantic. I could not find her. My people can smell the Rakshasa if they are anywhere near, and in truth the stench from the camp had been heavy of late, but now it was gone. I could not find the place Rella had spoken of, I could not find my dearling, though the Fire within me knew well that she was in deadly peril. I flew in circles around and about the camp, lost, maddened—
And her scream tore the night, rent my heart, brought me arrowing down to a structure I had passed fifty times. I roared once, Fire preceding me as I came to land, for I found myself surrounded by Rikti. I would have laughed, were my Lanen's terror not ringing still in my brain. My Fire swept them ef-fortlessly from the air, from the ground, cleansed the sigils I could now see dimly scratched into the very earth. But they were many, and all took time.
I had no time.
"Lanen, I am here, I come." I cried, as I swept the Rikti from my path.
Her answer was the merest whisper in my mind. "Now, Akor, or it is too late.''
Despite his arrival I was still before the altar, and though I struggled with all my might, Marik thrust me forward towards the demon with a grip of iron. ''Take her, dread lord, take the offering swiftly. A Lord of the Kantri rages nearby and would keep her from you."
"That shall not be," said that dead voice. "Come, offering," it said, stretching out its redblack arms for me. Marik released me, and as I tried to run it grasped me by my shoulder.
I tried to scream. I tried to run. I had no will, no voice, barely a flicker of my own self remained. ''You are given as sacrifice," the thing said. "Now you—"
''Lanen, I am here, I come!''
I summoned the last of my strength and shouted in true-speech, ''Now, Akor, or it is too late.''
It was barely a whisper.
"—belong to me," it finished, and a red veil fell before my eyes—
The splintering of wood behind me shook me even from that cold, dead place. I still had no volition, but I could tell from the sound and the feel of air at my back that the wall behind me was gone.
Caderan and Marik had turned to look.
Marik screamed and ran. Caderan was cooler—he turned where he stood and spoke to the demon, even as Akor was making the hole large enough for him to enter.
"The offering will be made later. For the price that was paid, I charge you now, destroy the Kantri lord." And before my eyes, Caderan vanished.
The thing said something I could not hear, but in that instant I was restored to myself. I ran from the circle, past Akor and away as he hunched into that cramped space, breathing fire and swiping a clawful of daggers at the demon. I knew that the only thing I could do in this fight was to get out of the way.
I learned then what Akor meant when he called the Rakshasa "life-enemies." The demon grew in stature until it rose high above where the roof of the cabin had been. It
was now nearly of a size with Akor, though it was still bound within the circles Caderan had drawn. Akor did not even pause in his attack. He flamed it, dragonfire searing the face and body of the creature, and raked at it with both front claws leaving great gashes behind. The thing spat at him, its essence scoring his silver armour, and, reaching out with its mangled and flame-scorched arms, took him by base of the throat and squeezed.
Those hands were near to stopping my breath, but even in that moment I blessed the Winds for its stupidity. If it had grasped my throat near the jaw, things might have gone ill, but our long necks are very flexible and I kept my head well out of range of its arms. As it was, I drew my head back, pulled in what air I could and spat a great gout of Fire at its face. It burst into flame, and while it was thus distracted I turned my own head sideways and snapped at its neck once, twice. Again. Again. Its blood burned my tongue, and the taste nearly made me stop. Nearly.
It took several bites, but these jaws the Winds gave us are made for such battles as these. The burning head dropped from the shoulders; the thing gave a drawn-out scream and vanished.
The only traces of its presence were dark stains on the ground where the head had rolled, and in the cabin where it had been bound.
I flamed them clean with Fire, and burned what was left of that building to ashes. I stood watching the fire scorch all clean, when I heard a soft voice behind me.
"Akor. You're hurt."
It was Lanen.
I was afraid to speak to him. I was in awe. When I finally got up the courage to say something, I could only think of his wounds.
"They do not pain me, dearling. A moment, though," he said, and proceeded to cleanse each of his gashes with Fire "There. All is done."
I had begun to shake with reaction, but somehow I managed to look around me. I shouldn't have been surprised. They weren't coming any too close, but the noise and the flames had drawn a crowd. One finally got up the courage to speak— it sounded like one of Marik's guards.
"What happened?" He was addressing me. I nearly laughed. Here was this wonder, this figure of legend standing before them, and this man was talking to me. Best they know the truth, I thought. If Marik is still alive, at the very least he isn't going to have many friends.