Merchants of Knowledge and Magic: The Pentagonal Dominion, #1

By Erika McCorkle

On one of the many planes of the Pentagonal Dominion, priestess Calinthe trades in information, collecting valuable secrets for her demonic employer. Calinthe has a secret of her own: she's intersex, making her a target for the matriarchal slavers of the Ophidian Plane whose territory she must cross in her search for hidden knowledge. But thanks to her friend Zakuro's illusions, Calinthe presents as a woman—a comfortable, if furtive, existence in a world determined to bring her to heel.

 

But when, instead of a mere secret, the priestess uncovers an incalculably powerful artifact, Calinthe finds herself in a high-stakes negotiation with the same matriarchs who sought to enslave her. On the table: Calinthe's discovery, a charm powerful enough to transform a mortal into a god… against a secret so deadly it could quell all life on every plane of the dominion. If Calinthe plays her cards perfectly, she and Zakuro could escape Ophidia wealthier than either of them ever dreamed possible.

 

But if she plays them wrong… …she'll learn slavery in her pursuers' hands is a fate far worse than death.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Shadow Spark Publishing
• Release date: Apr 8, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201876357

Erika McCorkle

Erika McCorkle (she/her) is an avid world-builder and consumer of all things fantasy, whether that be books, video games, or anime. She has been developing the Pentagonal Dominion for 22 years and figured it was about damn time to publish her books. She has a Bachelors of Science in Biology and works as a laboratory technician on the graveyard shift at her local blood bank, which qualifies her as a vampire. She can be found on twitter @Kiraofthewind1 or on her website, www.authormccorkle.com

Book preview

Chapter 1: The Game of Eight Questions

In the eyes of the tavern’s patrons, I was a lone, unarmed woman. Their eyes lied; I was neither alone, nor unarmed, nor a woman. I walked across the common room, passing sailors and dockworkers of various species as they drank, gambled, laughed, and paid only the faintest attention to me. They saw a Mind volkhv [1], purple cloak drawn close to fight the northern chill, but not my four-armed, dark-skinned companion Zakuro. The young woman could not be seen, heard, or in any other way detected by any entity in a three-hundred-foot radius—except me.

Most people would say a Mind volkhv in a tavern made as much sense as a fish on land. Faithful worshippers of Lucognidus, God of the Mind, wouldn’t dull their brains with alcohol. This was technically true, but as with all things, the truth was nuanced. Though my companion and I were no strangers to alcohol, it was not why we came. Taverns were a place to seek knowledge. Drunkards with wagging tongues spilled secrets as they spilled beer.

Our target sat on a bar stool, drinking the cheapest swill available. He had the grey fur and long, pointed ears of a Wolf[2], though given that he was bipedal, clad in trousers and a jerkin, he was undoubtedly a hybrid. I’d been told by my informant, the church keeper in this town, that this Wolf was actually a demon. If that was correct, Minirya was a good place to infiltrate; there were plenty of Wolf hybrids among the locals, and the town’s Godlight[3] was probably dead. He blended in perfectly—he may have been reborn from the corpse of a man who’d once lived here.

The stools to either side of him were empty, and although we approached from his left, I chose the right seat. I was a merchant of knowledge; my every action was calculated.

Calinthe, are you going to show him your mark? Zakuro asked.

I could not respond, playing the role of a lonesome volkhv in search of a drink after a long day of storytelling. Zakuro, my companion merchant of magic, my sweet Pomegranate, was a darling but her actions were not calculated.

I sat on the stool to the demon’s right. Zakuro stood behind me, her two upper arms crossed, two lower hands on her hips. I had instructed her beforehand not to interact with any physical objects lest she give away her position.

The Kraken bartender eyed me. He leaned his hands on the bar table while the tentacles on his back wiggled. Welcome, Volkhv. A warm drink for a blessing? I’ll not turn you away and risk the Lord’s wrath, but I’ll take any blessings I can get.

Please, I said. May Lord Lucognidus watch over you with one of his Twenty Thousand Eyes. May he, in all His Infinite Wisdom, grant you tranquility. May you rest safely and happily in his conquered lands.

Without turning away, the Kraken grabbed a glass behind him with one tentacle and a bottle of whiskey from a high shelf with another. He knew the placement of his goods well; his tentacles did not so much as touch the vines of glowlight lotuses[4] dangling near the items. May the Lord be praised. May he be enthroned in glory for all eternity.

A pious bartender on the docks of Minirya? I was in luck. He poured my drink and left to tend to some loud patrons a few tables behind us. He didn’t employ a wait staff or security. Either he was poor, or he counted on no one daring to fight a Kraken. Regardless, it allowed me time to talk to my target in private.

Mys drooka[5], are you a volkhv? the hybrid Wolf asked before I had even opened my mouth. I had not expected him to initiate the conversation. Maybe the great God Lucognidus was watching over me.

That I am, Mister drook. I took a hearty drink. Warm whiskey was precisely what I needed. It was late spring, but non-Ice elementals were always cold this far north. Only since last autumn’s Star Carnival, though. If you need any complicated blessings, I can’t help. Many believed volkhvs could perform blessings or miracles. We couldn’t. Such acts were done at a God’s discretion, but the common folk didn’t know that. They didn’t need to know.

He shook his head. Standard Wolfish, with a long snout and grey fur interspersed throughout with white markings. Some were scars where the hair had grown back lighter.

Can you find missing people? he asked.

My informant hadn’t said anything about a missing person. This was an unexpected twist in my plan. Not the knowledge itself—I had heard about his missing friend elsewhere—but I hadn’t expected him to open up so quickly. He was desperate.

That might be difficult, but if you play the Game of Eight Questions with me, I can try.

Every soul in the Pentagonal Dominion[6] knew the Game of Eight Questions. It was how one paid a merchant of knowledge. We couldn’t accept coin, as money had long ago been deemed anathema to our God Lucognidus. Instead, we traded information. I could ask this man any eight questions of my choosing. Most people told the truth since they believed volkhvs could detect lies and punish liars with curses. A baseless superstition, but useful to me.

Sure, ask. I got nothing better to do than sit here and hope my companion wanders in. Fuck, I’ve been searching for a Ruomi hour[7]. He’s gone. I know it.

Before we begin, I need you to tell me about this missing person. My eight questions were purely for my benefit. I wasn’t about to waste them asking about his problem, and I didn’t want to fool him into thinking I would burn my questions like that.

He sighed into his glass before finishing it. He’s a man. Biped-bibrach[8]. Hybrid of so many species I couldn’t tell you what his majority is. About as tall as the barkeep here. Hey, drook, another drink please! He placed a few coins on the counter when the bartender returned. I avoided looking at those foul, sinful metal disks. His hair is, uh... colorful. He dyes it, and not in one single color. Some strands will be red, the next blue or green or whatever. His hand quivered like he was afraid of being caught in a lie.

A peculiar reaction. Dyeing one’s hair wasn’t unheard of, and hair dye was plentiful in Aloutia[9], although women and intersex people did it more often than men. I had a phase as a teenager where I’d dye my hair various colors, most often red. My surname, Erytrichos, meant ‘red-haired’ in the language of the Ulese[10], but my natural hair color was blue—a rare color for an Ulese. When I became a merchant of knowledge, I started keeping my hair its natural color to promote conversation.

The Kraken set another beer before my target, only to leave when some postmen started brawling.

His skin is multicolored, too, the Wolf-demon added. A mixture of many species, I suppose. Even some green like yours. Don’t see that often. Lovely shade, Mys.

Thank you. I think that’ll be enough to go on. May I start the game?

He took a deep drink first. Ready any time.

First: Where were you born?

Here in Minirya.

Second: Do you have family living here?

A moment’s hesitation, a twitch of his nose. Nah. Parents died a while back. I never found a mate or had children.

It was a convenient, yet true, excuse for demons. He could have been born here centuries ago, his family long since passed away. Demons, even those reborn from corpses, were immortal in the sense they did not die of old age.

On the other hand, it wasn’t out of the question for a mortal man to be without family. Perhaps his missing companion was his lover. There were no laws in Aloutia—political or religious—against the practice of various sexualities, polyamory, or interspecies mixing, but Wolf culture defined ‘mates’ as a bonded pair who could produce offspring together.

I had to get him outside to ascertain if he was a demon or a mortal. He would not reveal his identity around so many people. Demons were forbidden in Aloutia and could be killed without any legal ramifications. I also had to take care not to make him think I was a demon hunter, lest he panic or attack me.

Good thing I had Zakuro behind me. She could respond either way.

There was also the issue of Godlights. Every settlement in Aloutia, from the largest city to the smallest homestead, had a source of light blessed to drive away weak demons. Minirya’s Godlight, a lighthouse atop a cliff, was not far from the tavern. If this man were a demon, one of two things had to be true: either the Godlight was unblessed, or he was no ‘weak’ demon.

The barkeeper returned. I held my glass out to indicate I wanted another drink. Rum, please. It was a deliberate movement; I ensured the palm of my right hand was visible to my target. I could not look at him without arousing suspicion, but I was not the one watching him. I brushed my foot against Zakuro’s leg.

I think he saw it, she said. His eyes widened. He’s staring.

My right palm bore the emblem of the Circle of Friends[11], an intricate cross of entwined ribbons with four circles on the ends. It was not a physical mark; only demons and fellow Friends could see it. When I looked upon my palm, the symbol floated an inch above my skin. It showed as white to me, in sharp contrast against my dark green skin, though its color appeared differently to different viewers. Likewise, other members’ marks came in a variety of colors to my eyes. Physical objects had no effect on its display—as I held the glass, the symbol passed through it.

Third: For what purpose did you return to Minirya?

When one plays the Game of Eight Questions, assumptions have to be made. If I wasted questions confirming the basics, I’d never make it to the juicy details. I assumed he did not live here so I could skip straight to asking why he was here.

I’ve always lived here, he growled, not unlike the non-sapient lowercase wolves that prowled the arctics.

I shot him a glance; my long eyebrows furrowed. Few people would mistake the anger on an Ulese face. I would not waste my next question prying the truth from him. The Kraken bartender raised his own smooth brow, handed back my glass full of rum, and left us alone.

Right...word has gotten around that I’m ‘new’ in town. Fine. If you want the truth, I’m here because this is where I last saw my companion.

Fourth: Where did you live last year?

Up north, in Wolvesely.

He was defensive now. His tone was that of a liar uncomfortable with lying. However, the truth can sound like a lie in the mouth of one who is scared.

"I’m afraid I don’t know your name, but I would hate to waste a question on just that. I grabbed the drink with my left hand, then turned my stool to him. The glass was an inch away from Zakuro in case she needed to use it. Fifth: would you be offended if I Compelled you?"

His furry throat bobbed as he swallowed. Only a demon would experience such trepidation at that question. I needed no other confirmation. The Compulsion was an order: state your name and rank. When a demon inducted into the Hierarchy[12] heard those five words, they had to answer to the best of their ability.

The Wolf got off his stool. Excuse me, I must be going.

I didn’t want to Compel him in front of a crowd of drunks, but I couldn’t allow him to leave until I had my information. I stood and took two steps. Without warning, he pulled a throwing knife from his jerkin, spun, and launched it toward me.

I had expected such a reaction and prepared accordingly. I was no nimble acrobat like the shadow-dancers of Ophidia[13]. My mind could respond to a challenge with acuity, but my body was slow and cumbersome. If the knife had been tossed accurately, I could not have dodged it.

Thankfully, the two steps I took were to the side, not forward, and Zakuro’s illusion tricked him into seeing me in a spot I was not standing.

The knife flew past me and over the counter, where it struck our Kraken bartender in the chest.

Chapter 2: Demon's Jewel

Ididn’t anticipate the bartender being in the worst spot at the wrong time. That was a poor calculation on my part. For all of my arrogance, I could admit when a plan had gone awry. The good news: he was a Kraken. A stab wound probably hurt him as much as stubbing his tentacle on a sharp table corner. His smooth, flabby skin would heal in minutes. The bad news: he was a Kraken. One does not anger a Kraken.

The Wolf realized his mistake the moment he saw the unbridled rage in the bartender’s eyes.

If he fled, I couldn’t catch him. Wolves were evolved to run and hunt. I was a hybrid of a species that evolved to farm and a species evolved to fly in the Hollow Void[14]. But I had methods of slowing people down.

Pom, stick! I still held my glass of rum an inch from her hands.

Zakuro grabbed it, not caring if she garnered attention, and splashed the rum across the Wolf’s face. What would have been a mild annoyance was exacerbated when she transformed the liquid into aqueous Lira’s acid[15]. The Wolf screamed, instinctually trying to paw the acid off, but the pain would persist for several minutes even if he wiped it away. She then transformed the acid into a viscous, sticky substance, trapping his paws in place.

My companion had three powers: creating illusions, enchanting certain atoms with magic, and transforming liquids into other liquids.

The bartender jumped onto his counter, tentacles flailing. He now carried numerous weapons both blunt and bladed, including the knife he’d pulled out of his own flesh. Are you a fucking idiot, you fish-fucker?

Confused and hurt, the Wolf-demon gave up on fighting and ran, albeit with his paws stuck to his cheeks. Patrons throughout the tavern wanted to watch a brawl; some grabbed the Wolf on his way out, but either due to their drunkenness or his own strength, he broke through.

Zakuro and I made our way out unchallenged thanks to her illusions disguising our location. Had anyone been paying attention to us, they’d think we were still at the bar.

Outside, the cold northern wind blew the smell of sea life from the freshwater ocean less than twenty paces away. It was night, but the radiance of Aloutia’s rings[16] reflected off the water lit up the seaport of Minirya. The only other source of light was the Godlight lighthouse on the cliff to our right.

The Wolf ran along the docks to our left. It was expected for a demon to run away from a Godlight, but for him to have gotten this close...it must have been unblessed.

Pom, trap him in Deep Sea[17].

She nodded, her face resolute, and sprinted toward the Wolf. He was faster, but if Zakuro was clever with her illusions, she could slow him down by forcing him to maneuver around imaginary obstacles.

Except he was temporarily blinded, his paws stuck on his face, and wasn’t even watching where he ran.

I would lose sight of the Wolf as soon as he turned a corner, and I knew I’d never catch up to him. Not on foot, anyway. The Kraken kicked the tavern door open, screaming for the fish-fucker to come back. He didn’t acknowledge us. Presumably, Zakuro still had us hidden.

I yanked my cloak off, freeing the more unusual parts of my anatomy. I lifted my wings—four thin, transparent wings—and my long, segmented tail, which resembled the abdomen of a dragonfly. With my body unfurled I leapt onto a nearby roof as the Wolf fled into an alley where cargo crates were stacked higher than the buildings. 

I pointed the wooden contraption strapped to my right forearm in his general direction. Although I had practiced with it, I was a poor shot even when I could see the target. At this distance, and without visualization, it was questionable whether I could hit him.

Vivea bless my aim, I whispered as I laid the fingers of my left hand upon the contraption. Violet and black whorls flashed on the box.

Vivea was a Friend of the Circle. When one invoked her blessing, their projectile would hit its target so long as it was pointed in approximately the correct direction and the target was clear in the shooter’s mind. Vivea’s magic could only bend the laws of physics to a certain degree, but this was close enough. It would only work once. I’d have to be blessed by Vivea again before the next time I needed this trick.

A canister sprang from an opening in the box, arced through the air in a parabola that didn’t quite look natural, and presumably struck the Wolf. His howl of pain rattled through the crates.

Although Zakuro was far behind us, she could change liquid from a considerable distance. The Wolf’s cry was all the signal she needed, but I fluttered my upper right wing at her anyway. It was my gesture for her to take action. The water from my canister became the same sticky substance clinging to his face, now binding his feet to the alley. 

I alighted on a crate high above him. In his struggle, he’d fallen to his knees. His body was stuck at peculiar angles, limbs locked in place by light-brown goo.

Zakuro hustled into the alleyway and hoisted him overhead with her four hands. It was a subtle, but impressive, show of skill that she could transform just enough of the substance gluing him to the street to unstick him whilst keeping his body entangled in its awkward position.

She carried him toward the boardwalk and tossed him into the ocean, head-up, then changed a cube of water around his body into a gelatinous substance on the cusp of not being classified as a liquid. He was trapped up to his chest.

At the same time, the Kraken reached the ocean and stripped off his shirt. This far north, Deep Sea’s body was too cold for most, but Krakens didn’t suffer cold. I also had no fear Deep Sea would freeze this suspected demon.

I fluttered to the ground and snuck toward Zakuro and the Wolf as inconspicuously as I could. I assumed Zakuro still had us hidden in an illusion, but I played it safe in case the Kraken could see us. I didn’t want the bartender interfering in my interrogation.

Zakuro changed the sticky material on the Wolf’s face back into water, allowing him to move his hands and speak.

He’s secure, she said. Finish your questions.

The Kraken jumped into the sea and transformed into his larger form. A mountain of tentacles breached the surface and thrashed high above us, enough water cascading off to cause a downpour. His angry eyes, each as large as a horse, searched fruitlessly.

Please don’t let the Kraken see us, Pom.

Don’t you trust me to do it right the first time? Zakuro sounded hurt.

Sorry. He makes me nervous.

I turned my attention to the Wolf, panicking and flailing within his gelatin prison. The Kraken had him terrified. One swing of a tentacle would crush him like an insect.

Pom, distract the Kraken.

The Kraken abruptly swam away from us, approaching the Godlight lighthouse and slithering his tentacles through alleys far from us. I assumed Zakuro made him see the Wolf someplace else. Whatever she did, I was grateful to be out of immediate danger.

Demon, state your name and rank.

In an agonized voice, forced by the Compulsion, he answered, Tahar. Sixth rank lower. Under the Hierarchy of Lord Williford of Ignorance.

Since you did not answer my fifth question, I will consider it null. Let this be the fifth question: What does this symbol mean? I crouched at the edge of the boardwalk and brought my right palm up to his eyes.

I’ve seen it before, on the hands of people traveling through Williford’s realm, but I don’t know what it means. I’ve never seen it outside the Makai[18]. I thought it was the symbol of his military or servants, perhaps.

Tahar knew more than most demons. Although every demon could see the emblem of the Circle of Friends, few understood what it meant or how a person acquired it.

I stood and put my hands on my hips. Sixth: will you surrender your demon’s jewel to me? If you refuse, I’ll let our Kraken friend find you and dispense his own brand of justice.

Once again, I had to make assumptions so as not to waste questions. Demons had no reason to venture into Aloutia unless they were harvesters, collecting negative energy from mortals to feed their Lord. I suspected from previous knowledge he was a harvester, but even that was no guarantee he still had his jewel.

Yes, I’ll give it to you if you free me. It’s close to my belt. Please understand, Mys Volkhv. I am not here to cause trouble. I know Emperor Ivan forbids demons in Aloutia. I only want to find my friend.

I am inclined to show mercy, so please calm down and answer my remaining questions. Seventh: Which portal did you come through to arrive in Aloutia?

It doesn’t have a name. It’s several miles northeast of Minirya, in a cave on the side of a cliff wall. I found it centuries ago, hunting on the plateaus. I was young, mortal, and stupid. There’s no prey to be found there, but I thought since I was a biped, I could reach places the quadruped Wolves could not. No one knows about it other than me and my companion. And Lucognidus, of course.

That last bit was only tagged on to appease me. It was blasphemous to imply anything could be unknown to the Mind God Lucognidus.

And now I know.

You know it exists, but not the exact location. You could search the cliffs for a lifetime and never find it.

I didn’t care about finding the portal. I wanted to figure out if Tahar had a way home. This Wolf-demon still believed I was his enemy. He wanted me to waste my last question asking either where the portal’s precise location was or where it led. That was irrelevant.

Unless I were to follow you, which as you’ve discovered, I’m quite capable of doing. Intimidate. Trick. Deceive. I wasn’t outright lying—I simply wasn’t telling the whole truth. He didn’t know exactly how I’d caught him. He didn’t understand Vivea’s single-use blessing. He didn’t need to know that if we freed him now and he ran away, I’d never keep up. Have no fear; I’m not interested in your escape route. I only wanted to make sure you had a plan once I released you.

His eyes narrowed as it dawned on him that he had misconstrued my intentions. He thought I was a law-abiding Mind volkhv, here to purge demons from Aloutia by any means necessary.

I will free you, I continued, and then you will give me your demon’s jewel and answer the eighth question. After that, leave. Cause no more trouble. Don’t talk to any Aloutians. Go straight to your portal and return to the Makai. I pointed my thumb behind me, toward the northeast.

I can’t leave until I find my companion. He... he’s the world to me. Without him, I might as well be slain. I’d rather die by your hand than live in misery.

You’re a damn fool if you think I want to kill you.

I don’t understand. Are you not a volkhv of Lucognidus, the Conqueror God, he who expelled demons from Aloutia and Hell?

Spiritua[19]. I raised a finger as I lectured him. Even when discussing it prior to the Conquering, it is proper to call it Spiritua. You are correct—I am his volkhv. I serve him, worship him, and I live the lifestyle he intended for mortal sapienti[20]. However, you should know Lucognidus does not hate demons on principle. He is a God of mercy, understanding, knowledge, and diversity. True, he drove the demons out of Aloutia and Spiritua, but only because they caused unimaginable suffering. It so happens Lucognidus has many friends and allies among the Demon Lords, chief among them being your own Lord. Williford is a friend to many Mind elementals. For me, our friendship goes even deeper. I opened my hand once more to show him the mark of the Circle of Friends.

Perhaps now, finally, Tahar understood. But I was in a generous mood, so I gave him this information for free.

"I am a member of the Circle of Friends. To become a member, one must summon three of the four nobles including the Prince of Megalomania and his Lords. I have summoned Williford, Vivea, and the Lord of Selfishness. However, my connection does not end there. I have not only summoned Lord Williford... I serve him."

With my right hand displaying the symbol, I reached into the belt pouch of my volkhv uniform with my left and pulled out a rock dangling from a chain. To someone ignorant of the matter, it would have looked like any old stone picked up off the roadside. To one familiar with demonic paraphernalia, it was obviously a demon’s jewel.

Calling them ‘jewels’ was a joke; the entire point of them was to be plain. If a harvester were chased by hunters, they could feasibly drop the stone someplace innocuous and claim they never had one. The interrogators might walk by it, none the wiser. Demons’ jewels were repositories of negative energies—precisely what kind of negative energy depended on the Lord who created it. Williford, Lord of Ignorance, gained power by consuming ignorance.

"You serve Lord Williford? And Lucognidus?"

Indeed. I am a merchant of knowledge, so it stands to reason I would serve those who control knowledge, be they God or demon.

Tahar was just a peasant. He had no idea what sorts of schemes Williford engaged in. The world must have seemed very black and white to him, and not in the usual ‘demons are evil, Spiritists[21] are good’ way. His worldview was likely ‘us versus them’, with the ‘us’ having changed as his in-group changed. Centuries ago, he’d been a mortal Aloutian and Spiritist. Now that he was a demon, the Aloutians had become ‘them’. Judging by his expression as Zakuro helped him out of Deep Sea, it baffled him to think someone could serve both a God and a Demon Lord.

Give me the jewel and I will ask the eighth question.

It was near his belt, as he’d claimed. He handed it to me without complaint.

"My eighth question is for your benefit rather than mine. Eighth: why did I come to this frozen island, colder than a Ruo’s[22] insides, full of drunk, aggressive sailors and postal workers? Surely a merchant of knowledge has no business here."

You want me to answer for your own mind? Only you can answer.

I tapped the two jewels together so one would absorb the other’s energies. "I want you to use your damn head for once and figure it out on your own. Why am I here?"

He watched the stones, mesmerized, hopefully deep in thought. You came for my jewel. Lord Williford doesn’t care enough about me or my companion to—

Stop while you’re ahead. True, Williford doesn’t keep tabs on harvesters in his realm, but you were causing a stir spending so much time in Aloutia and asking about your companion. The keeper of the church here in Minirya grew suspicious, too. He asked me to determine if you were truly a demon and ordered me to kill you if you were. Williford doesn’t want you dead, though, and asked you be returned safely. In addition, he told me about your missing companion. Since you’ve done such a wretched job of finding him, you’ve attracted the Aloutians’ attention. I wouldn’t have had to play this charade if you’d stayed in the mountains and minded your own business. I’m here to rescue you, fool, and find clues about your friend’s whereabouts.

His astonished yet abashed countenance gave away more than words could, but he spoke anyway. I’m sorry. I was so ignorant.

And ignorance is a sin, I said as I raised the two jewels closer to Tahar. They grew warmer, a pleasant sensation in this miserable cold. Demon’s jewels warmed when they absorbed their creator’s attribute, in this case, ignorance. But it shall not go to waste. I will feed it to our Lord.

I can’t thank you enough, the Wolf replied. I thought you would kill me. But if you serve Lucognidus as well, you will need to answer to the keeper. Or will you tell them I ran away?

No. I will put all the ignorance in one jewel, then give away the empty one. I’ll say I killed you in the mountains, and that your body was too heavy to carry back. Now go, before the Kraken realizes we didn’t run toward the lighthouse.

No sooner had I uttered those foreboding words than the Kraken turned back our way. I assumed he was still under Zakuro’s illusion, but Tahar didn’t know that. He took one look at the monstrosity and needed no other urging to get the hell out of Minirya.  

Zakuro Interlude 1

In Zakuro’s estimation , Calinthe was always amazing, but missions like that one reminded her of why she fell in love with the stunning, green-skinned Odonata in the first place. Her cunning, calculating, manipulative games might terrify others—well, they terrified Zakuro, too—but her heart raced whenever she saw her friend dominate a dangerous situation.

Zakuro knew she screwed things up sometimes and made Calinthe’s work more difficult. The merchant of magic regretted her mistakes, but did not always learn from them, much to Calinthe’s chagrin. Zakuro would have never betrayed her, so any disaster she caused was not done out of malice, but ignorance.

She wondered if the demon’s jewel Calinthe got from Lord Williford grew warmer every time Zakuro did something stupid.

Chapter 3: Päivi

Ihad no reason to return to the bar. My business had been to get the Wolf-demon to give me information and send him home. Yet I had to make things right with the bartender. He got involuntarily dragged into my mess and was harmed as a result; had he been any other species, he could have been killed.

I put my cloak back on to hide my wings and tail. Zakuro carried a large cask requiring all four of her hands to bring in. We had filled it with ocean water, then Zakuro transformed it into Vinoc’s red, a rare and expensive wine.

What happens after this? she asked as she hefted the barrel onto the counter. Do you want to summon Williford to teleport us back? Would save us from having to go through Ophidia.

I don’t want to spend any secrets right now. We can risk the Ophidians. We’ll return the same way we came. No surprises.

The Kraken bartender stormed in, cursing about that fish-fucker who got away. He buttoned his shirt as he crossed the common room all while weathering the customers’ questions, comments, and demands for more beer.

Pom, visible.

Zakuro was quick. We had a system. I could utter a single word and she knew what I asked. ‘Hide’ meant to shroud us in illusions and ‘visible’ meant to dispel it. To an outsider, it might seem like I was barking orders. I supposed I was, but Zakuro followed me out of love and friendship. If she was uncomfortable with our situation, she would say so.

Besides, if she wanted to leave, I was in no position to stop her. I was a mere mortal with no powers to speak of, whereas she was a Godblood[23], the descendant of three Gods. In some places, Godbloods were so feared that lawkeepers wouldn’t stop one from doing as they pleased.

From the barkeeper’s perspective, we’d never left the bar.

My apologies, Mys Volkhv, the Kraken said as he took up his spot behind his counter. That Wolf could have killed you. You’re lucky he hit me instead, but I wanted him brought to justice. I tried to find him, but the sneaky fish-fucker got away.

I shook my head and raised my hands in benediction. God watched over us both. He knew you had a body that could heal from a wound such as that. Nevertheless, you were inconvenienced because of my actions. I asked questions that tempted the man to violence. I, too, must apologize. Please accept this gift. Use the money you receive from this to help pay for repairs or a donation to the Plant church if you need medical aid.

Zakuro hefted the cask onto the counter.

Volkhv, I can’t accept an apology from you. It would be dishonorable.

Likewise, I cannot leave without making things right. Think of it as payment for the next dozen Mind volkhvs who come through.

The Kraken wrapped his tentacles around the cask and brought it to his side of the bar. I accept, but not as payment or to compensate future Mind volkhvs. A trade, if you’d permit me. Speak to the Ruo if you want anything in his belly. He motioned to a large man leaning on the far wall and wearing a wide-brimmed hat.

I agreed to the trade if only for the sake of the Kraken’s dignity. I could accept gifts of lesser value and therefore uphold my own honor as a merchant of knowledge. Only in matters of stories, rumors, and secrets did we seek to make a profit. With material goods, the Mind Spirit’s decree was to give more than we received. Perhaps we were cheating because Zakuro could turn a worthless barrel of ocean water into something invaluable, but the merchants of magic were blessed in the Twenty Thousand Eyes of God.

As we approached the Ruo—formally known as a Ruomalainen—I asked my companion, What do you want from him?

Ooh, I wonder what meat he has. She put both pairs of her hands together while her face beamed with a bright smile. If he doesn’t have any cold beer, maybe he’ll let me put a warm one in his belly.

Ruo stood eight feet tall and their spherical bodies often lent them to be equally wide. Their body type was a standard biped-bibrach, but their joints were round and transparent, allowing one to see bones and sinew in their elbows and knees. Their abdomens were as round as their joints and displayed an additional feature: a door-like organ in the front which allowed them to store things at their internal body temperature, which was below the freezing point of water. Their bellies were usually transparent like their joints, but most coated the inside with ice. Moreover, they often wore clothes to hide their bellies, as this one did.

The proprietor’s signal told me you were welcome to my stores, he said. What will it be, drookas?

Do you have any meat? Zakuro asked.

I do. He stroked his long white beard. I have rabbit, elk, and susi[24]. The omnivore, not the carnivore. I wouldn’t dare carry wolf meat, especially here.

How much can you give us? I asked. We are looking to restock our meat supplies and we’ll take all you can give.

I can give you ten pounds of meat. However, if you listen to me, I may give you more.

Just listen? I am a merchant of knowledge. Listening is what I do best.

"I was employed in this bar to repay a debt. That Kraken bartender saved me from ruffians a month ago, but now he says I am injuring his honor because I have stayed too long. Now he feels he owes me a debt because I’ve been in his service for longer than we’d agreed upon."

I put my hand over my forehead. Agreements and bargains were difficult enough for Mind elementals prohibited from using money. To think it could be a problem for those who did use money...

Ruffians? I mused. Who attacked you, and for what purpose?

The man, ashamed, adjusted his hat to hide his eyes. It’s bad luck to deceive to a volkhv, especially one of Lucognidus’s. I was in the army, as all Ruo are obliged to join. I went into Communications. Some of my countrymen believed I was sharing secrets with the Ophidians. I wanted to leave Ruomi[25] for other reasons, so I came to Wolf Island, but they thought I was meeting a spy.

Were you not assigned a unit in the military? I asked. Did you desert?

He grimaced, hesitating to answer. It looks that way, I know. I don’t trust the Ruomi division of our military. I wished to speak with a commander in another division, but... well, I don’t know which divisions would side with me and which would side with Ruomi. What if I approach the commander in another city and they don’t even listen to me? What if they think I’m a traitor?

And yet you trust me with this story. What makes you confident I won’t take your little secret to Minirya’s local military?

Merchants of knowledge such as yourself owe no loyalty to any country or military, he said. One of the things we’re taught in Communications is to never share information with a merchant of knowledge that you wouldn’t want your greatest enemy to know. We’re also taught to think critically about what you tell us. For all we know, you were paid by Ophidians to spread false rumors.

I said nothing. Better to keep an air of mystery than to deny it. I personally did not involve myself in political or martial matters, though I knew other merchants who did. Plenty of merchants worked with the Aloutian and Ophidian militaries, though we worked with the higher-ups in command. Low-ranked soldiers like this Ruo were probably taught to distrust us so they wouldn’t fall for a spy’s trickery.

Mys Volkhv, forgive me for being rude, but I trust you precisely because I know the military does not.

I nodded my head, frowning. It was a fair assessment from one in a position of ignorance. Educating him otherwise would not help me, and he was unlikely to believe me anyway.

So, what do you want? I asked. And how am I supposed to help?

I know you are travelers. If you would let me travel with you until I find someplace safe, I would let you use my belly to store anything you wish.

Anything? Zakuro asked. Oh, think of all the meat we could store! I could get cold beer, too.

You’ll get your gastrobacter[26] drunk if you don’t relax on the beer, Pom. Sometimes I thought all Zakuro cared about was meat and alcohol.

Is that... something that can happen? she asked.

I sighed. I shouldn’t have attempted to crack a joke. No. I’m teasing.

I was intrigued by what secrets this Ruo was supposedly sharing with Ophidia. Knowledge was the realm of my business. If he knew things I didn’t, I could make a profit.

We can’t let anyone travel with us before we even know their name. Drook, will you grace us with your name?

He licked his lips and scratched behind his head, inadvertently tipping his hat forward. Actually, the matter of my name is another part of why I wished to leave. In Ruomi, I was given a common name when I became sapient. However, as my behavior and ideals changed from what Ruo consider acceptable, they became cruel toward me. I changed my name, but many refuse to use it. They claim it makes me a snake-lover. I swear to you, I have no love of the Ophidians; I merely despise the extreme masculinity of the new Ruomi culture. I was told to conform to ‘proper Ruomalainen behavior’ or leave, so I chose to leave.

I was tempted to bring this Ruo along if only to ask questions about the state of affairs in the vassal Kingdom of Ruomi, where rumors had become sparse. I had never been to the cold northern land; King Tuure forbade portal usage in his region unless it was for the Aloutian military, in which he was a ranked officer. For a civilian to go there, one would have to cross snow-capped mountains or iceberg-riddled seas. Besides the portal problem, Ruomi was too cold for my comfort. Even when the sun was up for a month, the snow and ice-reeds never melted.

Ruo were all men. Or rather, they reproduced asexually and were considered men by Ophidians. When the Ophidians created their laws regarding asexual species, they decided whether they’d call the species female or male based on if they wanted the species to join them or be enslaved by them. With their frozen bellies perfect for food preservation, Ruo made for ideal slaves—men. The stereotype I knew of a Ruo was one who embraced masculinity as a show of defiance. Yes, we will be men. Now dare to enslave us!

"We bear no preconceived notion of how a Ruomalainen should behave, I said. For that matter, we don’t know what you should be named, either. Tell us what you want us to call you, and it shall be done."

Call me Päivi Valkoinen, he said.

Although I had never been to Ruomi, I knew the language. Not from extensive study; Lord Williford granted all merchants of knowledge one of two gifts upon graduation: music or language. I had selected language and became fluent in a dozen new languages when he kissed my forehead. The Ruomi language had once been gender-free, but over the years, as it was learned by species with gender biases, they transformed it. Päivi was a new name, a feminized version of a name given to Ruo who became sapient during the Longest Ruomi Hour[27].

Spirits bless our meeting. I am Calinthe Erytrichos.

Just call me Pom, Zakuro said.

Commendable, and a rare display of wisdom, in not saying her magic name. She sometimes accidentally introduced herself as ‘Zakuro,’ her magic name which could be used to hurt her if a demon were summoned against her.

One other thing, Päivi said. Please think of me as a woman.

Certainly. Do you prefer feminine pronouns?

I prefer hän, but if we must speak English[28], yes.

Likewise, I ask you do the same for me.

Of course. That was my initial inclination. You are a Mys drooka, are you not?

I chuckled, perhaps more ominously than I’d intended. Would you like to see?

Päivi blinked, surprised and perhaps unsure if my question was safe to answer. Do you mean to strip naked? Although it’s not illegal here, it’s quite cold for Mind elementals.

Pom, hide. I didn’t want any of the drunkards here misunderstanding this scene or thinking I was some common merchant of hedonism.

Done, she said.

I hiked up my volkhv uniform’s purple dress and spread my legs to give Päivi a better view.

To her credit, she didn’t shriek, startle back, or act like I was abnormal. Perhaps it was because she came from a biologically asexual species. Sometimes when I showed my sexless mound to sexual people, they reacted like I was a freak of nature. Instead, Päivi merely rubbed her beard in curious consideration.

I am intersex, but I prefer feminine pronouns, I said as I let my dress fall to my feet. It’s helpful for traveling through Ophidia.

I wouldn’t shame my dear Zakuro in front of a new traveling companion, but just as she often forgot to use her public name, she was also woefully forgetful about proper pronouns. She only started learning English from me when we met six years ago, and I feared she would accidentally out me as intersex among the female supremacist Ophidians. For my own safety, I suggested she use feminine pronouns for me rather than gender-neutral ones.

If I may ask... what are you, anyway? Päivi asked. I’ve never seen your species.

I usually charge for that information, but since you’re giving us so much meat, I’ll give you this one for free. Half Ulese, half Odonata.

She gaped, nonplussed by my answer. Any sane person would think I was lying. Ulese were biped-bibrachs who stood around five and a half feet tall. The Odonata were space-faring dragonflies, six-hundred feet