“It says ‘to agitate a recognised demokin is considered suicide in most cultures, and if you survive you will be charged with antagonising a demokin and also attempted suicide. These are serious offences, as a provoked part-demon may rampage with little provocation.’” He looked up, terrified and starred at Kari. “Please don’t kill me.”
An avalanche of laughter started with the giggle Hills could no longer contain, swiftly picked up by Longtooth then the rest of the boys. Kari stood menacingly, her blonde hair matching the golden hue of her eyes, and growled, showing her slightly pointed teeth to best effect. She snapped at his nose, then couldn’t help but laugh at his terrified expression.
“Knock it off!” Chief Trollock stormed out of his office. He did not look happy. “Corporal True, get your skinny ass over here.”
Uh-oh. Not for the first time, Kari wondered if this was just a regular chewing out, new orders, or if the chief knew about her past. No one was smiling any more, she noticed, as she manoeuvred around the desks and bodies filling the room commonly known as the pit. She slowly opened the door and walked inside. She took in the papers on the desk first, mostly reports on the smuggling ring the Watch had discovered working to bring illegal demon goods into the city. They had found and booked more sellers than she could count, but gaining access to the ringleader was proving much more problematic. He was a powerful practitioner of magic and left traps and poisons wherever he went. The other problem they faced was the constant bureaucracy stopping their investigations.
The desk in the middle of the room dominated the office. Covered as it was in paperwork, Kari could make out the small dents made by various fists, some of them hers, some of nicks from various weapons, mostly not hers, and one or two claw marks, definitely all hers. She noticed the old filing cabinet, overflowing with documents, and the very uncomfortable guest chair, torn and ripped with a spring poking out just where the fleshy part of the left buttock would land.
“Have a seat,” he gestured to a chair, but Kari politely shook her head and remained at attention in front of his desk. She definitely knew now that he was in a bad mood, that chair was a form of punishment in itself and a clear indicator of his apparent favour. He didn’t force the issue though so maybe he wasn’t pissed off with her. “As you may be aware we are currently hunting the ringleader of a gang bringing damaging demon contraband into the City. The Lord Governor is currently unhappy with our progress in apprehending this miscreant, and because the Governor spent twenty minutes this morning telling me how it’s my fault that the investigation is stalling because we don’t have a magic user, I’m now making it your problem that we don’t have a magic user. Report to the palace immediately, you’re being re-assigned.”
Kari left the small office in a state of shock. Re-assigned from demon investigation department to focus solely on bringing the ringleader down? And gods only knew what would be waiting for her at the palace. Maybe Governor Blackwood wanted to shout at her now, instead of the chief. She felt her claws extending, and had to force herself to calm down. Kari loved her job, but a demokin’s anger was never far away and she had been known to throw desks across the pit upon leaving Trollock’s office.
“She’s not rubbing her left cheek, couldn’t have been too bad,” Longtooth commented from across the room. Hills giggled, she did that far too much for Kari’s liking. Her temper was back under control now, but only just, so her smile at the pair was more fangy canine than pretty white teeth.
The Palace dominated the hill at the centre of the City. It was formally called The Palace of Hope and Rejuvenation but that was a bit of a mouthful, so it was shortened. The name of the City was even worse: The City of Eternal Life, Lights and Songs. Bloody elves had to make everything more complicated than it needed to be. The City was once a bastion of the elves, before the retreat to the forests. That was a time so long before current living memory that many now thought it was a myth, not even knowing why it was just called the City. The houses near the Palace dated back to that time, and some still had the inscriptions referring to the founding. Of course they were in Elvish, a stupidly complicated language that was mostly made up of squiggles.
The road sloped upward in a spiral leading to the Palace, the houses slowly turning from the vast human homes of the wealthy to the sprawling Elvish designs, home to the even wealthier. The elves must have thought this design was very pretty but if the City was ever attacked, it would be a bugger to defend, and Kari knew from personal experience that the roofs made an easy path to the Palace, with all the extensions and rooms added on since. The problem with elves, Kari thought, was that they were too obsessed with the concept of beauty. They rarely left the Eternal Forest in the west to visit the City, but when they came they usually demanded a guard to protect them from ‘the unclean advances of common humans’. Kari had turned up for her turn as a guard and the elf had nearly had an apoplexy. Apparently elves really didn’t like demokin, something about the smell offending their delicate, upturned noses. Kari had felt like ripping his throat out after some of the insults he had hurled but that would have given away her ability to understand and speak Elvish, always useful to have in reserve.
It was only as she neared the Palace that she noticed the sheer quantity of people on the streets. The press of bodies was almost preventing her from reaching the main gates. Almost, but not quite. People seemed to sense her behind them, as they often did with a demokin and looked over their shoulder with an ancient reflex for self-preservation. They didn’t always know what made them take a step to the left, or glance over their shoulder but they didn’t do it when a normal human was behind them. Demons were dangerous and capricious, and nearly always violent sociopaths. Half-demons inherited this from their demon parent and nearly always rampaged in a path of uncontrollable anger that got them killed. It was only when you got down to the fourth and fifth generation of demokins that they started to be able to control those tempers. Typically loners who had a mean streak, many had gained a well-deserved bad reputation. That made it all the harder for those like Kari, who may have the ability to inflict great damage to someone but channelled that ability in constructive ways. Constructive for her, but destructive to criminals.
Pushing her way to the gate she gestured at one of the guards, fortunately someone who she had been drinking with a few times, and was waved through.
“Come to piss the elves off, Kari? You know they don’t like demokins. Are you that desperate to start a fight?” Molbray remarked loudly, a young Palace guard with a pointy chin, pock marked face and a sharp tongue. If Kari didn’t know from previous experience that he pissed his drawers when threatened with a large set of teeth, she would have grabbed him by the throat to remind him why it was bad idea to irritate demokins. If she was meeting elves though, it wouldn’t do to turn up smelling of piss as well as demon, so this time she settled with just showing her fangs from a distance.
Elves! Fuck. Elves were bad news, and for crowds to be that deep there must have been more than one.
The Palace courtyard was busy with people hurrying to attend to the elves and the royals. No one gave her a second glance though, and the guards even gave her friendly waves now and then; she had worked closely with them to destroy a portal to the underworld that had turned up in one of the cellars. A shit-load of minor demons had come through that day before a royal magician had closed it. Kari was hailed as a hero that day, as she could feel where the invisible demons hid through her demokin senses. The respect from the Nobles didn’t last long, and was hushed up for the general populace. Kari was a demokin, so she didn’t get a medal like the other guards. The excuse was that she wasn’t on duty, and so couldn’t be officially honoured. But the guards remembered.
She was waved through the Palace to the upper levels, where a busy secretary told her to mind her manners and briefed her on proper etiquette when meeting elves. ‘Cos the sun shines out of their fragrant arses, she wanted to add when he had told her for the third time not to speak unless spoken to. But why the hell am I here? She wanted to scream, but knew it would do no good. The secretary probably had no idea and elves weren’t forthcoming