Having a stranger address him with such familiarity should have bothered Martin more than it did. Could be shock, and he’d panic later. “To find out and understand what I am.”
“Ah. Introspection. Sometimes it’s best not to know the answers beforehand. Now, how did you come to hunt the evil creatures of the night?” There was a touch of amusement in Father Dmitri’s voice. He spoke with lilting cadence, voice neither old nor young, with no distinct accent known to Martin.
“One night, I heard a noise, cut down an alley, and saw two creatures attacking a woman. I chased them off. She was close to death.” Martin closed his eyes in a fruitless attempt to banish the image from his mind: a young woman of the streets, torn open, gasping out her last breaths. “They’d toyed with her. Made her death as horrifying as possible. She never even saw her killers, just felt their teeth and claws.”
Father Dmitri’s hood dipped in a curt nod. “Yes, that is their nature. But, you see, it’s not the flesh they feed upon but the emotion. Her fear, her pain. Magic grows stronger when a person is afraid. As you know firsthand.”
“She was a mage?”
“No, she held so little power she didn’t even know. Few of their kind would risk attacking a mage who can fight back and possibly win. Apparently, she had a mage ancestor, though, giving her a hint of residual magic, for it is that magic the creatures feed upon, amplified by her terror. Not enough magic to let her see her attackers, however, when they choose to hide themselves. What did you do after her death?”
“Every night, I sought her killers. A sevenday later, I found them. I’ve been hunting demons ever since.”
“Demons. Yes, an apt enough name, though they don’t see themselves as evil. You’ve been quite successful for someone self-trained.”
“Why are you asking? You mentioned the hook. You already know what happened, don’t you?”
“Yes, but only from my perspective. I needed to hear yours.”
This was the most bizarre conversation Martin ever had. But while Dmitri seemed willing to answer questions… “How… how did you come to know about magic?”
“Same as you, I suppose. My parents were mages, and my grandparents before them. On my wo… In my village, as here, mages were once valued. We brought rains when needed, healed the sick, kept wolves away from sheep.” Dmitri chuckled. “And entertained the young ones with sleight of hand during long winter eves when they grew bored. We spared many a parent’s sanity.”
“You said ‘were’. Are they valued no more?”
Dmitri paused several moments before replying, “My village is no more. Which is why we, also, have come to this city. All of us who remain.”
“The Lady’s temple is here. Don’t you risk much by being so close?”
“The amulets shield us from her followers, and we learned to hide what we are long ago. If she sought us herself, she might grow wiser, but she has entrusted the task of ridding the world of mages to others. They no longer look so closely because they think they’ve nearly accomplished their goal. They simply wait until someone reports magery. Can you imagine what would happen to the people of this city if we weren’t here?”
Martin shuddered. Demons everywhere, picking off people at will. “I’ve heard that the Lady protects her own.”
Dmitri swept out a hand toward the city. “Does it look like she cares for her own?”
Good point. “The lower city belongs to the Father. Or so I’m told. So why doesn’t he help?”
The priest chuckled. “He does. He sends us, his devoted servants. Those with mage blood are drawn here, to the power, without knowing why. Some need our help.”
Although Dmitri’s austere sect didn’t require total coverage that Martin was aware of, he’d never once glimpsed any priest’s skin, only gloves, a hood, a cassock. However, the tight belt around Dmitri’s middle hinted at a muscular body and thin waist.
Without warning, Dmitri stood, striding toward the high city. Martin had no choice but to hurry after him.
Leaving behind the brothel district, they entered the section of the city devoted to dining and drinking. They passed the Stone’s Throw, Martin averting his eyes. The opening of Dmitri’s hood swiveled Martin’s way, then toward the tavern, but any hint of face remained hidden in folds of brown wool.
Oh no. The priest didn’t need to study the tavern too long, lest he suspect things Martin didn’t want known. Then again, if Dmitri and his sect had been watching, they probably knew Martin’s comings and goings. He attempted a distraction from a sudden interest in the tavern by changing the subject. “Do you ever get used to it? The killing, I mean.” Martin lengthened his stride to keep abreast of the much taller priest. Dmitri’s gait never faltered.
No one could ever accuse him of dawdling.
“Do you find you haven’t the nerve to banish the evil ones? Your actions speak otherwise.” The tone held no mockery, merely curiosity.
“It’s not that.” Martin wracked his brain, searching for the proper words to explain. “It’s just that, beneath the scales and strange eyes, when they speak, especially the one tonight, it seemed… more like a person. Before, I saw them only as killers, a threat to overcome. Now that I know it’s not just a mindless monster, it bothers me. Can they be reasoned with? “
Dmitri stopped in the middle of the street so suddenly that Martin nearly collided with his back. “Do you not know what happened before the Father sanctioned hunters?”
“No. I never even knew other hunters existed until tonight.”
Dmitri sighed, a deep, weary sound. “The Lady teaches the here and now, the day, the moment, the second. Little else matters. The god’s teachings are steeped in history, where we’ve been as a society, how we’ve evolved, and the lessons past mistakes have taught. Before organized hunts, those creatures“— he waved in the general direction of the otherworldly being they’d recently dispatched— “were pursued by howling mobs, captured, and sometimes tortured for days. Our methods are more… compassionate. Then the mages were killed, save for a scant few who went into hiding. In time, the tales became legends and myths discounted by the common folk. Either way,demonscannot be allowed to survive in the land of men. Before you came to this city, a creature was killed who’d butchered hundreds in a single season.” Dmitri growled, “His master grew far too strong, taking a share from the magic of those killed.”
