Week 16

  The shapes resolved: four Emberlings, squat minions flickering in and out of sight; four Shadeclaws, hunched and hungry-looking; and two hulking Gorekins.

  “You didn’t submit the Hell audit,” the lead Shadeclaw said. “We have come to ensure compliance.”

  ***

  Briar took one look at the ensemble and moved in front of Callie, as if expecting her to stand back and let the professionals work. She had her bow in hand, but didn’t bother to draw; instead, she reached into her pouch and flicked three thumb-sized seeds onto the dirt.

  A heartbeat later, a vines exploded upward from the cracked ground, twisting with a speed that bordered on violence. The nearest three Emberlings shrieked as the vines enveloped their torsos, pinning their arms to their side and squeezing until their fire-dappled skin bulged between the coils.

  Briar nocked an arrow with the same motion she used to brush her hair back from her face, and drew to half-extension, aiming at the lead Shadeclaw’s midsection. "Back off," she said, her voice flat and cold in a way Callie hadn’t heard before, "or the next one goes through your eye."

  The Shadeclaw hissed and tried to step forward, but the moment its bony foot crossed an invisible threshold, its entire body seized up. For an awful moment, it looked as though it might pop like a tick. The other Shadeclaws attempted the same, but every time they tried to force themselves closer to Briar, they recoiled as if repelled by a static charge. Callie recognized the effect instantly—the Bai Ze’s talisman. The way the demons’ faces warped in confusion and raw discomfort told her it was still active, still shielding them from direct supernatural harm.

  Ember stood at Briar’s side, every hair on his massive black body electrified, shallow flames flickering round his maw. As a Gorekin made a clumsy lunge toward the nearest vine, Ember lunged first, jaws snapping so close to the demon’s ear that the Gorekin shrieked and toppled backward into a shallow ditch.

  Callie stepped forward, keeping her palms open and visible. “Let’s all dial it down two notches. Nobody gets hurt today.”

  The Shadeclaw hissed in contempt.

  Briar risked a glance over her shoulder at Callie. “Shadeclaws used to attack Apsu every year. It’s time for some payback.”

  Callie didn’t answer. She was too busy reading the body language of the Emberlings, who were alternating between desperate attempts to break the vines and deeply frustrated glances at each other.

  She motioned to Briar, then reached for the blue ledger in Briar’s backpack. “Can I borrow your notes?” she asked.

  Callie flipped to the section marked "Hell: Field Reports" in Briar’s careful, blocky script. The pages overflowed with anatomical diagrams of demons, transcribed dialogue, and, to Callie’s mild amusement, a water color rendering of the infernal cafeteria which Ox-head had brought them to just before they took their leave.

  She approached the lead Shadeclaw who sniffed at her. “Oh…” it said, glancing intently at Callie’s forehead. “It’s you. Almost impossible to tell humans apart.” Then as if remembering something. “Keep away from me! Not one step closer you hear.”

  Callie held the ledger up to the Shadeclaw, then without looking down she drew Belus’ sigil in the air over the section in question; something which she had done at least once per day for the last hundred years. The sigils pulsed, then lifted from the paper and disappeared.

  The effect on the demons was immediate.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  The remaining Gorekin yawned, then turned and walked away. The unrestrained Emberlings and Shadeclaws trotted after them. “Meet you back at the cafeteria,” one of the Shadeclaws called out, without turning to look back.

  The lead Shadeclaw looked accusingly at Callie and Briar; then ground its teeth, as if wondering whether to give them a piece of its mind.

  For a few long second, no one said another word.

  Then one of the trapped Emberlings groaned, "I didn’t even want this job. It’s just a temporary assignment; my last post was with Licensing."

  The other Emberling grumbled, "Last time a squad was sent to find a Hell Inspector, every single one ended up as mulch for the Oracle. This is such bullshit."

  The other Gorekin, now mostly recovered from its tumble, slunk over to help peel the vines from the Emberlings. “Can we go now?” it said.

  Briar, suddenly at a loss, nodded. The vines loosened and slithered back into the ground, leaving the demons blinking and slightly shell-shocked.

  The lead Shadeclaw shook itself and shot a venomous glare at Briar. “Get it into your thick skull, missy. There are good elves and there are bad elves. There are good monsters and there are bad monsters. There are good humans and there are bad humans. And there are good demon folk and there are bad demon folk. You can’t tell the difference just by looking.”

  The Shadeclaw took several deliberate steps backward before turning to follow the others down the road. "We’ll be submitting a complaint," it said over its shoulder.

  The demon squad retreated, still casting suspicious glances at Briar, until they were just another smear of dusk on the horizon.

  Briar’s hands began to shake. Not the controlled tremor of adrenaline, but a raw, unshielded tremor that traveled up her arms and left her entire body visibly vibrating. She clutched her bow to her chest, then let it slip to the ground.

  Callie moved in, catching her around the shoulders, and let Briar lean into her chest. They stood that way for a long minute, Briar’s forehead pressed to Callie’s collarbone, Ember huddled tight against Briar’s legs.

  "It’s okay," Callie murmured, stroking her hair with a careful, open hand. "You did fine. Nobody expects you to…"

  Briar exhaled a ragged breath. "I almost…"

  "I know," Callie said, squeezing her closer.

  Briar’s breathing gradually slowed, then evened out. When she finally raised her head, her eyes were red but dry.

  "Sorry," she mumbled.

  ***

  They walked the long, lamp-lit road toward Chang’An.

  The city’s lights had begun to shimmer in the valley below, the great perimeter wall standing out like a brushstroke of gold. Above, the stars were crisp and clean.

  Ember ambled at Briar’s side, tail wagging in time with her steps. Occasionally, the wolf’s massive head butted against Briar’s hip, jostling her as if to remind her that, despite everything, she was still alive.

  Callie trailed a step behind, her gaze fixed on the city lights. Each time Briar glanced back, she saw something like a question flickering in Callie’s face: Am I supposed to say something here? Or will it just come out wrong?

  Eventually Callie broke the silence. “Are you mad at me?”

  Briar kept walking. “If I was mad, you’d know it.”

  “That’s not a no,” Callie said.

  “Don’t push your luck, city mouse.”

  For a while, the only sound was the padding of feet—four paws, two boots, and the faintest scrape of stone as they took the winding road down to the gate.

  They reached the city proper just as the lanterns were being lit. They slipped through the city gate and wove through the narrow lanes toward home.

  Their clinic was on the edge of the artisans’ quarter. Callie fished out the key and opened the door.

  Briar took a deep breath. “Smells like home.”

  Ember trotted past, heading straight for his favorite corner, where an ancient blanket waited.

  Briar moved to the counter, where a scatter of paperwork and dried yarrow occupied most of the space. It took her only a moment to notice the letter lodged under the yarrow stalks.

  It was folded with precise, geometric care, and addressed to Callie, Briar, and Ember in the upright, regular hand of Tanith.

  Callie came over, wiping her hands. “What’s it say?”

  Briar read aloud:

  “To Calanthe, Briar, and Ember,

  If you are reading this, I have already departed Chang’An.

  The situation on the Glass Road has become acute, and my former students are now stationed at the front.

  I have accepted temporary reinstatement as adjunct tactician for the defense of the World Tortoise. This is not a decision made lightly, but as you know, I am uniquely qualified to intervene.

  Please do not attempt to follow; the path is considerably more hazardous than when last we traveled it.

  Your friend,

  Tanith”

  Callie took the note, reading it twice, then set it down gently.

  Briar broke the quiet. “She’s not coming back, is she?”

  Callie was silent but she had assumed as much.

  Briar folded the note, and tucked it into her ledger. “What do we do now?”

  Callie looked at her, and for once the answer came easy.