“One to the hounds of Verm and the birds of Loth.”
The smile vanished from his face, and he said, “Have you ever made blood oath with a demon?”
“No.”
He laughed again. “Then let us proceed.”
I cut my right hand in a diagonal slash. The blood was bright red and poured in a sheet down my palm. It stung with the sharp pain of all shallow cuts. The demon extended his left hand, and I sliced it. The blood was black and slow to ooze.
We clasped hands and suddenly I felt dizzy. I stared up into those intent yellow eyes and said, “What is happening, Krakus?”
“What always happens when you bargain with demons, warrior. I am taking blood price. But because this oath holds us both, you are getting my blood in return.” He hissed, “You are demon kin now, elf. Those who have the power will see the taint and act accordingly.”
It felt as if someone had thrust a red, hot poker into my hand. Fire filled my veins. I fell to my knees, gasping in the cool night air. I could not afford to scream. If we were being chased, screams would bring them. That was the last thought I had before blackness engulfed me.
I heard Celandine from a distance. “What if she dies?”
“Then you will still be a prisoner because only she can free you.” The demon’s voice came. “It is the way of demon bargains, healer. The mortal must risk more than the demon. I cannot change my nature, not even to save myself.”
I woke with the sky clearing toward dawn. The cut on my hand had been burned shut and formed a scar across my palm. It had not been Celandine’s magic that had closed the wound.
She was there beside me. “How do you feel?”
“Good enough.” I sat in the morning-damp grass, waiting to feel whole again. I got tired of waiting and called to my magic.
It answered but with a difference. It seemed sluggish, as if it moved through thick air to reach me. My magic felt tainted, but there was no time to worry about it. I had to free the demon.
The spring dawn was close, and the spring night still here. The world was poised between the two, so I called upon both. I drew the cool spring darkness and the soft call of an owl. I breathed in the first hint of dawn on the wind.
A rabbit stirred in its sleep, and I took its dreams and wove them into my spell. The bark of a fox and the fleeting shadow of a nighthawk mingled with the aroma of fresh-turned earth. The power stretched like a second moon, swollen with spring’s bounty. I stood and cupped my hands, letting the magic fall into my palms like moonshine. I engulfed the diamond of the demon’s necklace in white magic. I felt the enchantment snap. Krakus bowed his head, and I slipped the necklace free of him. The diamond still glittered like warm ice, but it would take an enchanter to reactivate the necklace. For now it was only a piece of jewelry.
He rose to his full seven feet and stretched. The chains fell away without benefit of keys. He leered down at us. “Let us go and fulfill my part of the bargain.” He offered me his left hand, and I saw the matching burn scar across his great palm. I took his hand, and Ulliam shied but came to stand on the other side of me. Celandine touched his white flank, and the girl clung to her. We were an unbroken chain. The world shifted, and we were before the gates of Terl. It was already dawn there, and a farmer with his load of chickens fought his mule to keep it from running away. It did not like the smell of demons.
Krakus let go of my hand and said, “I am sure I will not be the last demon you see, earth-witch; blood calls to blood.” He vanished.
Later that day we stood before the High Priestess, and she welcomed Celandine back into the fold of the white healers. The girl-child had some healing magic and was being sponsored as an apprentice healer. She was a worthy token for such a quest.
Celandine’s father held a great feast, and I was invited. I had the gratitude of the most powerful petty king in Meltaan. And I had a diamond only slightly smaller than my fist. It would be a long time before I was forced to guard someone else’s treasures again.
Celandine was in her element, bejeweled and dressed in white silk. She did not look my way. She was cleansed, and her soul was her own again. And I was a reminder of less pleasant times.
I watched the girl we had saved, laughing with the other young healers. I felt good at having saved her, but my eyes were drawn back again and again to the burn scar on my palm. Celandine had done nothing on this quest. Yet she was cleansed, and I was tainted. I wondered, was there a cleansing ceremony for the demon-touched?
A CLEAN SWEEP
My daughter was a very small baby when I got the invitation to join this anthology. I was getting very little sleep, and the house was a disaster. So when asked to write a superhero story, I knew the superhero I most wanted to see on my doorstep.
CAPTAIN Housework materialized on the doorstep of 11 Pear Tree Lane. His emergency beeper had awakened him, code red. Was it his nemesis, Dr. Grime, or the infamous Dust Bunny Gang, or perhaps Pond Scum, the destroyer of bathrooms?
He had to levitate to reach the doorbell. As crimefighters go, Captain Housework was on the short side. His white coveralls, silver cape, and mask—formed of a billed cap with eyeholes—were gleamingly clean. He stood on the top step shining as if carved from ivory and silver.
He looked perfect, crisp, and clean. And he liked it that way.
The door opened, and a woman dressed in a bathrobe stared down at him. “Oh, it’s you. Please come in.” She held the door for him, waving him in eagerly.
He stared up at her, a grim smile on his face. “And what dastardly villain is plaguing your home, dear lady?”
She blinked at him. “Dastardly villain?” She gave a small laugh. “Oh, no, it’s nothing like that. My husband made the call. Did he say we had a supervillain in the house?”