Chapter 35. Devil's Bargain

endaran awakened to a sharp pain in his belly.  Instinctively, he bit his lip to stifle his cry, but his breath came in rapid bursts and tears rose to his eyes. Gods, it was as if he were being stabbed to death and he reached toward the location of the old wounds, to the angry snarl of flesh that had once marked the place where the daggers had rended him.  To his horror, he felt raised scar tissue and the stickiness of blood.

The pain was too great to question how this was possible.  It flooded his mind and overwhelmed his senses.  Cold sweat blossomed upon his pale flesh.  Sheba hissed in the darkness beside him and sprung away.

“Lemony,” he sobbed through clenched jaws, realizing she was half a world away and could not hear him, “Gods, please let this stop.”

Pendaran struggled to regain mastery over his mind, finding the quiet place at the center of his being.  His training paid off and he forced his breathing to come in controlled bursts.  The pain did not leave him and his poor body thrashed and trembled around him as the horrified chatter of his inner dialog faded and he gazed up at the shadowed ceiling with a semblance of calm.  Wordlessly he chanted the single syllable of the mantra, anchoring his mind to its soothing form.  Now he focused upon his connection to Zhou, the only person who could help him.  He felt the dull sleepy mind of his master draw abruptly awake.

The pain was now a steady oppressive weight upon his body and will.  Renewing his concentration upon the mantra he endured quietly, waiting.  He did not open his eyes when the door opened.  He recognized the fiery blaze of Zhou’s bright intellect. 

“There is something you failed to tell me,” Zhou said angrily.

“Not intentionally,” Pendaran replied silently.

Pendaran opened his eyes to see Zhou step back as if he had been struck.  He could not see what alarmed him, but Zhou shouted in the hallway for the servants to fetch Xiang Yi.  He set the flickering candle sconce on the small table beside Pendaran’s bed and drew up a chair, taking his hand to soothe him until help arrived.

“I apologize,” Zhou said, “Seeing you like this upset me.  Tell me what happened.”

“The last time Threnody attacked me in a nightmare she told me I would be hers on the new moon.  I assumed the protections would be enough.  I thought if I knew how to do banishing… ”  Pendaran paused when the pain became too great.  It was as if he were being clawed open from the inside out, “I’m sorry, Master.”

“Relax and breathe,” Zhou replied gently, “I know you would not have invited this.”

“I wish I were a better apprentice. All I seem to do is cause you grief.”

“Hush now,” Zhou said, “There is no one else I would rather have as my adept, my friend.”

Pendaran detected the calm blue energies of Xiang Yi pushing through the door.  The monk immediately placed his warm hands upon Pendaran’s breast and began chanting, the flare of azure energies outshining the meager candlelight.  Pendaran gasped with relief as the monk wrapped him in an enchantment and the pain faded to something more tolerable.  The enormity of its presence withdrew and the mantra he had been maintaining shattered.  He shuddered and panted in relief.  Xiang Yi urged him to sit up against the headboard and pressed a flagon of icy water into his hands.

“Xiang Yi, please accompany us to the docks.”

“Are you mad?” the monk protested, “You can’t take him out there, it’s freezing.  He’s injured.”

“He’ll be dead by morning if we do not,” Zhou replied. 

“Dead?  But the magic just faded, I have my wound back… how could I die?”

“You died in that cave,” Zhou said, “Threnody kept your spirit tied to your flesh, but she also kept a part of you.  There may be a working she needs to renew.”

“So… she decided not to renew it.”

“Or she simply chooses to use it against you.  That is the way of demons.  I believe she will tell you her terms.”

Pendaran winced in pain as he struggled to rise so that he could get dressed. Zhou searched the armoire, finding a loose robe and draping it around his shoulders.  By that time, Pendaran could hear stirring outside his door and realized his commotion had awakened many in the household.  A servant arrived and Zhou told him to fetch a litter and bearers as well as his usual retinue.  Pendaran lay back on his bed trying not to think too much about the state of his aching body.

Soon one of Zhou’s warrior retinue arrived and lifted Pendaran out of bed.  He saw Fbody’s rugged face beneath his helm as Xiang Yi and Zhou took the blankets from his bed and tucked them around his shuddering form.  Now they moved hastily down the stairs toward the yard where the litter awaited them.  Pendaran felt mildly humiliated as he was laid out on the blankets and covered up against the cold. The curtains around him were drawn and he was encased in fluttering shadows as the chill night wind roiled the cloth.  His breath rose in an icy plume as he lay on his back, the world rocking softly around him as the litter was born up and carried beneath him.

 “She’ll have to kill me before I let her take you,” Zhou said into his mind, “I wish you had told me about this.  I could have prepared better for it.”

“I’m sorry, Master.”

Zhou did not respond but he felt the metallic pang of his regret.  Pendaran cursed himself for a fool.  Of course his master was right.  He should have told him about the threat and he should never have treated it so lightly.  It had never occurred to him that Threnody would restore the wounds.

By the time they reached the docks, Pendaran was having difficulty breathing.  He remembered the sensation of drowning and recalled his approaching demise in the cave.  Oh gods, Threnody was cruel to put him through this again.  Fbody lifted him gasping from the litter, the bitter cold of the night burning with each labored breath.  He saw Zhou etching symbols with a lump of chalk onto the filthy planks of the dock, his face pale in the starlight as he faced the open sea.

“Stay with me,” Zhou said into his mind, “She will try to scare you into yielding again but she will not kill you so long as she believes she can strike a bargain.”

Fbody laid Pendaran gently at the center of the circle once Zhou was ready.  His master clutched a golden chalice in his left hand and a slim two-edged sword in the other as he stood protectively between Pendaran and the ocean.

“Speak to me, Demon,” Zhou shouted into the darkness, “I would hear your terms.”

The slow soughing of the water against the pier was interrupted by the violent surge of a wave.  Pendaran felt the dock beneath him jolt and then heard the thump of something landing hard upon the wooden surface before them.  His struggle to breathe abated as Threnody approached, pale and beautiful as she glowed like the hidden moon.  Arrayed in seed pearls, coral and jade, she strode toward the circle’s edge like a queen in her exquisite gown, a look of contempt engraved upon her features as she stood before Zhou.

“Are you here to slay me, demon hunter?” she laughed humorlessly.

“If need be.”

“But kill me and you kill your beloved apprentice.  It would seem we are at a bit of an impasse, Master Bei.”

Pendaran felt Zhou’s rage and impotence.  She spoke the truth and they both knew it.

“Then we must strike a bargain,” Zhou replied coldly, “but know this, demon, I will not rest until I have found the means of your undoing.”

Threnody laughed harshly.

“Your days are numbered, Master Bei.  I hardly think you are in a position to defeat me.  Since I pity you, yes, I will bargain.  My terms are that Pendaran shall come to me each night of the new moon at the hour of midnight and subject himself to me.  All that I require is a single hour for a month of perfect health.”

Pendaran shuddered at the very thought. 

“One hour,” Zhou repeated harshly, “but that is all.  No more nightmares or threats.”

Threnody contrived to look hurt.

“He does not enjoy my night visits?  Alas, Pen, my love, why do you revile me when your body rises to the occasion?  Do I bring you no pleasure?”

“I hate you.”

“I will teach you to love me and then we will be together forever,” Threnody said with an insipid sweetness in her voice, “For now, however, I ask for only one hour.”

“No,” Pendaran wept, breaking under the strain of agony and the knowledge of what she would do to him in that time, “Just let me die, Master.  I can’t take this.”

“I’m sorry, Pen,” Zhou sighed, “I have failed you in so many ways.”

“Am I so terrible that you prefer death?” Threnody asked, her voice bitter with scorn, “What about your wife and children?  You had so much to live for when I saved your miserable life.”

“I never knew it would come to this,” Pendaran cried.

Zhou sighed sadly and sheathed his sword before coming to kneel beside Pendaran.

“Without her true name, I cannot defeat her and preserve your life.  I’m sorry, my friend, all I can do is ask that you please capitulate to her offer until we have the means of defeating her.”

“She said your days were numbered, clearly she means you harm,” Pendaran protested, “I can’t bear that she hurt you as well.”

“Did you preserve Pendaran’s life while he was imprisoned?” Zhou demanded, ignoring Pendaran’s concern for his safety.

“Of course I did,” Threnody snapped, “No one harms him, he is mine.”

Zhou gazed sadly upon Pendaran.

“This is a dangerous time, my friend.  We do no know how many times she has intervened on your behalf, but while she is here, very little can strike you down.  I would have you accept her bargain, such as it is, and use it to your benefit. I implore you to live.”

Pendaran struggled to will himself out of despair, imagined how it would feel for Mabane to lose him now while the bond between them was so tender and needful.  Teleri would cope, but her son was still hurting, especially after Ashekoroth had shown himself in the form of his dead father.  He knew then that he must make this sacrifice for the boy.

“That is what it is to be bound as a Lyssan pair,” Zhou whispered, “I will find a way to free you, even if it will cost me.  Cleave to that as your hope, my brother.”

“I will agree to the bargain.”

Zhou nodded and rose, drawing the sword once more.  He chanted an incantation beneath his breath and etched a binding sigil in the air where it hovered with gleaming magenta potential.

“Demon, make your vow.  As of this day, you will trouble Pendaran Caradec no more so long as he comes to you at midnight each month on the night of the new moon for one hour.  In exchange, you will grant him perfect health.”

“I make my vow, and so it will be,” Threnody pronounced, her pale features exultant.

“I make this vow, and so it will be,” Pendaran replied, his voice weak with grief and regret.  The sigil flared and faded, pouring away like tears as it sparkled and fizzled.  The pain left him now and the old wounds vanished.  Threnody held out her hand to him.

“Come, my love, the hour begins now,” she said.

He rose, knowing instinctively what was expected of him as his blankets and clothes fell from his trembling form.  Zhou looked away as he sensed the horror and disgust rising up within Pendaran.  Threnody’s grip was harsh and possessive as she drew Pendaran to the end of the dock.  His body tensed and he closed his eyes as they stepped off into empty air and plummeted toward the frigid water.  His cry was stolen from him as Threnody ensorcelled him, her powerful magic rending away his natural form and replacing it with that of a dolphin.  He knew only the cold and dark of the sea as he sped effortlessly after her.  He knew only that he must obey.