Page 55 of Caught in the Devil’s Hand

“The coal tree is found only in the Dead Swamps,” Vallen said. “One of the previous empresses liked black, so the entire court copied her when she requested all her palace furnishings be made with coal wood.” He moved toward his horse. “I’ll be back within the hour with food, water, and some medical supplies. Try to sit still while you wait,” he instructed. “You’ll look after her, won’t you?” he directed at Oka. After he had Oka’s agreement, he curtly nodded and left.

“Dead Swamps?” Oka asked, turning to his sister. Shumei smiled.

She spent the next hour talking about their continent and of the old empire once ruled by magic-users, preordained by the Divine One to battle the minions of the Damned One. She had never seen Oka so absorbed.

“How were empresses chosen?” he asked.

She blinked. “I don’t know. I never thought to ask.” But it was a good question. Oka had opened his mouth to say something else when they heard Vallen’s footsteps.

“He’s back!” Oka said with glee. He ran to the doors and slid one open. Vallen appeared in the doorway, arms full.

“Do you need any help?” she asked.

“Yes, actually. Young Oka, if you could take the two jugs on top I can manage the rest.” Vallen bent his knees so Oka could grab the jug handles, and Oka brought them to the table.

“What’s in these?” she asked, leaning forward. The two jugs were made of what looked to be a glassy, white material.

“One is water and the other is rice wine. Forgive me for forgetting which one is which, but it will be obvious when a cup is poured. I’m sorry, Oka, but you cannot have any wine,” he joked.

“I know,” Oka said petulantly.

Vallen laid the rest of the supplies on the table, including a pile of cloth strips—too many, really—on top of which sat a plate of sliced apple and a bag that clinked when he set it down.

“There’s an apple grove on the other side of the main house, but it’s early in the season, so only a couple were ripe enough to eat. For now, we have no other food supplies.”

“I haven’t eaten an apple since before Papa died,” she said. Oka’s eyes lit up as he grabbed a slice. “What’s in the other bag?”

Vallen sat in a chair on the other side of the table. “A mortar and some empty bottles from the supply room. I thought we could use the herbs you brought with you to make a salve. I told you I specialized in defensive magic, and that included medicines, though most of the old recipes have a touch of magic in them. The ones you make are ‘all natural,’ so to speak.” He opened the bag and pulled out small, serviceable bottles that looked more expensive than her shoes.

She was thinking of her own bag of herbs and powders, which probably weren’t nearly as effective as what Vallen could make, when she remembered the powerful magical item sitting against her hip.

Her loud gasp drew everyone’s stares. Vallen leaned over the table, full of concern. “What’s wrong? Are you in pain?”

“N-No, I just remembered! Oh dueling gods, how could I have forgotten?” Using her good arm, she hauled her medicine bag onto her lap and pulled at the knot holding the flap shut. Then she grasped the chalky, black book and drew it out.

“I got it! I got Majo’s spell book,” she announced with triumph. The shock on Vallen’s face was almost comical. Then his expression hardened.

“That’s how you got hurt, isn’t it?” he asked, too accusatory for her liking. Her defenses slammed into place.

“She attacked me, yes, after I got a confession out of her. She sacrificed the miller’s daughter to a demon in exchange for power.”

“So you went there to interrogate her. Was that your only reason?” he asked, looking at the book. She could feel how fast and hard his heart was racing.

“There’s troubling rumors of demon raids in the plains’ cities—massacres—and I felt this urgency to—”

“You’re not answering my question. Was interrogation your only reason for going into that woman’s house?” Vallen pressed.

“Well, no. I wanted the Devil’s Hand. I knew where it was and where Majo kept the key, and I knew I couldn’t leave until—”

“If she had traded her soul for power from practically any demon that can answer a summoning—which means it’s powerful—then she could have easily killed you,” he said, voice raised. “You must have felt the aura of her new powers. You knew she was stronger, and yet you picked a fight anyway. You almost got yourself killed over a book!”

“It’s not just a book. It’s your cure! I wanted to do this for you. I wanted to give you something you couldn’t get yourself.” The weight of book was starting to tire her wrist, so she set it in her lap.

“If you had died in that house, trying to give me something I’ve lived without for countless years, your death would have been in vain. Did you think of what would have happened to your brother?” he railed.

“I took a risk, yes, but it paid off, didn’t it?” she yelled back.

“Um, sorry to interrupt,” a small voice interjected. Vallen and Shumei glared at Oka, but he didn’t flinch, to his credit. “Vallen got something important to him, Shumei’s alive, I’m alive, and we’re all together. Why argue about something already over and done?”