28. Brewich
Brewich
W hile not well known throughout most of Artor, amongst Highlanders, the mountain town of Brewich was famous and considered one of the most beautiful and eclectic villages in the region. When Mila finally pushed through the last of the thick fronds and tangled vines to glimpse it, she took a great deal of satisfaction from hearing the amazed gasps of the group behind her, and even one from Culis as he surveyed what lay before them.
Rather than fighting against nature and the laws of the rainforest, the inhabitants of Brewich had used the natural design of the forest floor to dictate the layout of their town centre. Shop fronts were built in and around tall bayan tree roots. There were no streets wide enough for a horse and cart to pass through, and so the movement of bulk goods was either via pedalled tuk-tuks or delivered via an extensively complex network of wires that were bolted between the large trees, colour-coded to specify the destination of any parcel that was strapped onto one .
People walked everywhere, often alongside exceptionally tame forest animals, and it was commonplace to see large, multicoloured parrots flying from window to window, delivering mail. It was a lively, bustling and complicated sight to the uninitiated, and even Mila, after months spent in the sober and orderly Jeralusah, felt a little overwhelmed to be around so much movement again.
The hunting party stood out from the native Brewich folk, but to their credit, as seasoned adventurers, they did not disrupt the flow of human movement in the village. They were accustomed to the unexpected, and if they couldn’t blend in, they at least knew how to portray themselves as inoffensive.
Mila led Culis down the main street and revelled in the feeling of being back in her element. She loved Brewich. The village was only a few miles south of Bori, and she’d spent so much time here that it was like a second home to her. Over the past few months, she’d been convinced many times that she’d never see any of the Highlands again. To now be back in Brewich, of all places, felt surreal. She felt a pang in her heart when she caught herself scanning the crowds for Cari.
She won’t be here, Mila told herself. Even if she was here, I shouldn’t want to see her.
She forced herself to push thoughts of the woman aside and instead led the group to a prominent taproom named Bronnies. There, she beckoned Culis to join her on a bench near the green stained-glass windows, which looked out onto the bustling street.
“You should let the others go explore, if they wish,” she told him. “Our demon won’t be around for a while yet. She comes out at dusk. We have a few hours.”
Culis nodded and passed the hunting party a few quiet words before joining her at the bench. “This place is…like a lunatic’s dream,” he said in wonder. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen infrastructure that is so innovative, so creative. They’ve genuinely tried to bring the rainforest into the design of every street and building.” He gestured to a waitress to bring them two ales.
“No, no. We don’t want ale,” Mila interjected. “Not in a place like this.” She waved the woman over to amend their order, requesting bungle juice.
“Well, well, look at you,” Culis said with a grin. “Not ten minutes we’ve been back in your part of the world, and you’re already calling the shots. What’s bungle juice?”
“A local speciality. A drink made with fermented ginger and kamp-seed oil,” Mila explained. “It’s what you want to be drinking in these climates. And it doesn’t export well, so you can’t get it anywhere else but Brewich and the very near villages.”
Culis’s eyes brightened at the idea of this potential logistical challenge.
“How about you just focus on one procurement at a time?” Mila teased, but Culis determinedly ignored her.
“That’s not the attitude that strikes fear into a rival’s heart!” he bantered. “You never know who’s cock Lady Luck will choose to kiss next!”
Mila snorted with laughter at the expression.
Culis continued to delightedly rant. “One must embrace every opportunity that presents itself, when it presents itself. There is no such thing as being inconvenienced by an opportunity!”
Their drinks arrived and, despite her uncertain regard for the man himself, Mila took great delight in watching Culis’s first sip and his ensuing impressed expression.
“This is…delightful!”
“Isn’t it? ”
To her surprise, Culis seemed perfectly eager to spend a good part of the next hour discussing the complex notes and flavours of the beverage with her, and despite her apprehension for the task she was about to commence, Mila found herself enjoying the afternoon and not resenting his company. It was the first time the two of them were really able to talk in a way that had no undercurrent of tension.
When relaxed, Culis remained witty, but his demeanour seemed less combative. He was keen to learn about anything, and his eyes brightened in genuine interest as she spoke about her home and the Highlands. He was naturally charismatic and knew how to hold a good conversation, asking questions and contributing his own stories where they fit, but he never tried to dominate the conversation. He was happy to let her be the more interesting one and learn from what she had to say.
Mila found herself staring often at his lovely green eyes and the ever-present lock of blond hair that curled untidily on his forehead, and the glinting gold earring, wondering where this entirely pleasant version of him had sprung from and how much of it was real.
Finally, however, the topic of their conversation turned to the matter at hand – the demon they had come here for.
“She lives on the outskirts,” Mila said. “And enters the village once dusk falls.”
“And her power?”
“In low light, she can make herself look like anyone. A glance in her direction in a crowded place like this, and you would swear black and blue that you’d seen anyone she wished you to think, even the High Priest Abbott. Think how scandalous it would be if he was seen doing something of disrepute, such as escorting a barmaid upstairs to one of the private rooms. ”
“Interesting,” Culis said softly. “I imagine that would be incredibly valuable to some of my more…nefarious customers. You could blackmail someone for something they hadn’t even done.”
“Exactly, or a spouse wanting a divorce could frame their partner, or she could be used to infiltrate guild meetings as a trusted spy…”
“But only at night?” he clarified.
“Only in low light,” she corrected. “A brightly lit room would expose her, even if it were the witching hour.”
“Interesting. So, she’s quite useful, but only in circumstances we can control.”
As dusk began to fall and their moment approached, Mila implored Culis to remain in his seat while she moved to the back of the taproom. She found a back door used by the kitchen staff and went out to wait in the alleyway beside the pile of kitchen garbage.
“You’d just scare her off,” she’d told him. “I need to talk to her alone first. She’s a flighty individual by nature, but she knows me, and she’ll be less likely to flee if she thinks I’m alone. Don’t approach us. If she agrees to the deal, I’ll bring her to you.”
Culis had nodded at this, and Mila left him, waiting for Natalee to show.
Although she vaguely knew what to look for, without her powers, she probably wouldn’t have suspected the shambling old man who appeared to dig for scraps after the last beam of sunlight disappeared behind the dark canopy. Natalee might be able to change her appearance, but she couldn’t change her energy, and Mila sensed the ikarei from the body beneath the brown cloak, which indicated some visual trickery was afoot.
“Natalee,” she said softly .
The ‘old man’ froze. He appraised Mila slowly, and after registering her, decided to stay. He did, however, remain wary, and his voice was coated in suspicion when he replied.
“Mila. I heard you were taken by the Church.”
“I was,” she replied.
“How are you not dead?”
“I struck a bargain.”
Natalee’s eyes narrowed deeply. “A bargain with the God-King? I doubt it.”
“Not with him specifically,” Mila admitted. “It’s a complicated story, and one I will readily share with you over a drink if you have the time tonight?”
“What do you want?” There were no pleasantries to be exchanged here. Demons did not expose one another like this; it went against a code that Natalee herself had taught Mila. The woman knew something was afoot.
“To talk,” Mila admitted.
“Then talk. Here.”
Mila sighed deeply and felt the tight spring of tension within her twist even tighter. This wasn’t going to plan. And how did she even begin? Natalee’s deep suspicion caused her to almost give up then and there, but the consequence of failure meant Culis returning her to the clutches of Jezebel. With that stony reality clenched around her heart, she knew she had to try.
“I have a proposition for you.”
“Oh?”
“I work for someone who has devised a way to improve the lives of demons in Artor.”
The old man’s eyebrows raised again at this, but she said nothing, and Mila took that as permission to continue .
“The method is…controversial, and you’re probably not going to like it. I’m not sure if I like it either, but I do believe that, in the long term, it will be effective. I only ask that you let me finish explaining before you dismiss me.”
Natalee continued to say nothing, and so, with nothing else to work with, Mila explained, or tried her best to explain, the plan.
Telling Natalee’s blank and unresponsive face that demons needed to sign contracts of servitude to humans was even harder than she’d anticipated it to be. She tried to skim lightly over those points and emphasise the outcomes that she was hoping for.
“If humans can be convinced that we’re more valuable alive than dead, then in time, we can change the status quo around who gets picked for sacrifice and why.”
“But to do so, we must subjugate ourselves and sign away our rights for ten years of our lives?” Natalee confirmed.
“Well…yes,” Mila agreed, finishing with words that felt both weak and flat. She did not need her power to know that her attempt to sway Natalee had been ineffective.
“I’m sorry, Mila,” Natalee replied. “I know you came to me about this because you suspected I could be tempted. You thought that I’d find something other than a life of skulking around and burrowing for scraps appealing in some way. But freedom is freedom, no matter how it is packaged. I appreciate that you’ve made this choice for yourself, and your idea is somewhat…aspirational. But the reality of servitude is not for me. I’d rather die free.”
With that, she turned around and walked back down the alleyway from which she had come without even a farewell.
Mila sighed and held back tears. She’d tried. There was nothing more she could have done .
Suddenly, she heard an indignant cry in the dark at the end of the alleyway.
Natalee!
She raced towards the sound and gasped with horror at the sight around the corner. Nemecca and Odin held the old man firmly by his arms, as he thrashed uselessly against them.
“What are you doing!” Mila demanded of them in fury.
Culis appeared as though out of nowhere and stalked towards them, holding a torch up to the face of the captive. Incredibly, wherever the flame shone brightly, the true likeness of the demon woman was revealed. Natalee’s true form was that of a middle-aged woman, strikingly beautiful, with raven hair and blue eyes. Eyes which now flashed furiously, first at Culis in defiance, and then at Mila in rage.
“This part of your operation then?” she spat. “Try the carrot first, and then the stick?”
“No!” Mila exclaimed and rounded on Culis. “What are you doing? I told you they must come willingly!”
“Oh, she will,” Culis said without emotion.
In the darkness, Mila suddenly found herself unable to tell if it was Christopher Culis or his father who stood before her.
“Demon,” he directed his words to Natalee, “you have two options. Sign a contract with me or submit to the Church’s mercy.”
“You monster .” Mila’s rage surged, and she couldn’t contain her tears.
She’d exposed the woman who had saved her life…for what? The naked hatred in Natalee’s face, and the waves of venom pulsing directly at Mila, were too much to bear.
“I will never forgive you for this,” Mila croaked at Culis, who didn’t even seem to register her .
Instead, he procured a quill and contract as if from thin air and waved it before Natalee. “Make your choice. Submit to my plan or submit to the Church.”
“I’d rather die!” Natalee spat at his feet.
Culis stared hard at her for a long moment and then nodded to the two who held her. “So be it. Put her in chains and gag her. We’ll carry her out with us when we leave. That’ll be a nice long time for her to really marinate in her decision.”
“No!” Mila rushed at Nemecca in a last-ditch effort to help Natalee break free of the trap, but it was in vain. She was no fighter, and despite the camaraderie Nemecca had shared with Mila, the hardness Mila had seen in her earlier in the trip came through. She was still Culis’s soldier through and through, and she swatted Mila’s efforts away as if she were an insect.
Mila hit the ground hard, the breath knocked out of her.
As she lay there, watching the hunting party move back to their lodgings with Natalee in tow, she was seized by the urge to put as much distance between them and herself as possible. She turned the other direction and ran, aiming for the depths of the forest where she could lose herself, perhaps find a waterfall to cleanse the filth she suddenly felt all over her skin.
But she’d forgotten about the vasium.
She hadn’t gone more than a few steps from the village boundary when she began to feel the pressure grow around her neck. The dead weight of the necklace forced her to the ground, subduing her.
Eventually, she was forced to crawl, and even then, she pushed further and further forward until movement became all but impossible and she lay scrabbling along the damp leaf litter of the dark forest.
Finally, exhausted, she stopped. With difficulty, she turned herself around and began dragging herself back through the grime of the rainforest floor towards Brewich. It felt good, like some kind of penance, to befoul herself in the dirt like this, as if this was the only thing she could do to prove to everyone, herself included, how unfair and wrong this all was.
When she returned to the lodgings, she found the hunting party all sitting at the dining table having a meal in what seemed to be an uncomfortable silence. Mila got the sense that she’d interrupted an argument.
Good. She hoped they were prepared to have another one.
She was filthy and sopping, but didn’t hesitate as she stormed over to Culis, who wisely stood and moved away from earshot of the rest of the group to have the confrontation.
“You’ve made a mistake,” she said in a soft, hard voice, fixing him with a gaze of death as they stood in the semi-dark of the street outside the guest house. “I was prepared to trust you, to work with you.”
“You can still do both, but you must realise that she was never going to come willingly. We need demons to join us for this venture to work, Mila,” he said, his voice equally as hard. It wasn’t a concession or an apology. “I don’t actually expect any of them to willingly join, but I do expect us to be able to convince them that this will be a better life for them once we’ve got them back at the manor.”
“You lied to me.”
“I did,” he conceded. “But it was for everyone’s benefit. You wouldn’t have helped me if you’d known the truth, and I would have had to send you back to Jezebel.”
“I will not help you anymore,” she hissed.
“Oh, you will.” His tone turned menacing, and Mila knew that the Jezebel threat remained real .
“I can’t believe I bought all that sanctimonious horseshit about making life better for demons,” she spat. “You’re just trying to make yourself rich.”
“Two things can be true at once.”
“I will kill you if you force me to track another demon for you,” she seethed, incensed by his nonchalance.
He seemed genuinely taken back. “A threat?” he said in surprise. “I didn’t know you had that in you.”
Red hot fury flashed through her again. “You know nothing about me. You know nothing about who I am and what I’ve had to do to survive in this awful society you humans have the gall to call ‘civilised’. You think we’re the heathens? The heretics? Well, take it from someone who can sense your energy…you are scum .” She poked him hard in the chest . “All of you! Utter scum.” She waved her hands furiously, breathing heavily. “Of every living creature on this great planet, it is humans that reek of rot and decay, not demons. Humans. And of all of them? You, Christopher Culis, are the most contemptible one I’ve ever met. I don’t know why I’m disappointed. Shouldn’t have expected anything more from the man who killed his own brother to get ahead.”
As soon as the accusation left her lips, she regretted it. She didn’t truly believe he’d killed Martin. His response to his father’s comment about the matter had convinced her that he was innocent in that regard, but she was so angry that the words had just fallen out.
The chasm between them deepened.
Culis stared at her quietly for a long while before speaking again. “How lucky then for you,” he said drily, “to owe a murderer your life.”
Mila felt the fury leave her as quickly as it had arrived, replaced by a bone-deep exhaustion.
“Please,” she begged him softly. “Don’t do this. Give me time to try to talk her around. You saw what this freedom meant for me a few days ago. I can make her see it too. And if she won’t do it, we can find another who will. I’ll find someone. You’ll have your demon trade. Just…don’t do this to her. Don’t turn me into a traitor to my own kind.”
He surveyed her in silence for a long time, considering her words, before finally replying coolly, “It’s as you said, demon. I’m just scum. Next time, save yourself the disappointment and don’t expect me ever to be anything more than that.”
He turned away and walked into the inn where they had acquired rooms for the evening, leaving Mila standing alone in the dark.