Page 69 of Daemon Master

A long pause. Were the guards deliberating? It seemed a good sign he hadn’t been met with immediate refusal. His hope faded when the shouted reply came back.

“You are outsiders. Leave this place and never return!”

“Now that we have our daemons back, they seem much more willing to be rid of us,” Seymour said to Adrian. Raising his voice, he shouted, “Thatwasn’ta request. Take us to your leader, or we’ll find her ourselves!”

“You would threaten us with violence after we took you in—gave you food and shelter?”

“And caged us like rats!” Tremorfist and Shadowlash both tensed beside the watcher. “Spirits below, if we meant you harm, we’d just burn your spirit-cursed Enclave to the ground!”

“You know,” Adrian said into the silence that followed, “I think this isexactlythe kind of attitude that convinced them not to trust us in the first place.”

Seymour huffed and crossed his arms, glaring at a nearby tree the way he used to glare at Adrian. At least, he’d stopped shouting threats for the time being.

“What my overly passionate friend istryingto say,” Adrian called, “is that we have no intentions of harming anyone, norof revealing your existence to the outside world.” He spread his hands. “All we ask is that you present our request to Elana.”

After another lengthy pause, a voice replied, “We’ll relay your message. Wait here.”

Adrian exhaled.Secure an audience with Elana—check.She’d seemed reasonable enough during her visit with him, so he didn’t think she’d send them away without hearing them out. That should give them a chance to plead their case.

A few minutes later, the underbrush ahead of them rustled. Two young men emerged, both dressed in green and brown strips likely meant to better camouflage them within the forest. They wordlessly gestured for Seymour and him to follow.

“Promise me you won’t antagonize anyone,” Adrian whispered to Seymour as they trailed after the pair of scouts.

“So long as they don’t act like fools, we won’t have a problem.”

Spirits below, this is going to be a disaster.

It wasn’t long before they emerged onto a dirt path cutting between blocky stone huts, and Adrian got his first good look at the Enclave in the light of day. The best word he could think of to describe it wasfunctional. Everything from the simplistic buildings to the rough clothes worn by its people looked like the bare minimum required to fulfill its purpose.

He supposed that was the price of forsaking daemonic labor. With proper training and equipment, humans could do the work themselves, but few possessed either in the modern age. Why learn to shape stone or metal by hand when you could rely on daemons to do it for you?

Of course, the people here weren’t entirely bereft of daemons. A handful of the creatures wandered the mostly empty streets. They perked up with curiosity as Adrian’s procession filed past. Wasthishow things would have been if not for Serenity Corp’s bondstones setting man and daemon at odds—a world where the Bulwark and all it represented became a relic of the past?

He set aside the melancholic thought as they reached a large, central area that had to be the village square. Crudely carved benches encircled the space in several tiers. A mix of young and old faces peered back at him, over a hundred all told. That explained why the rest of the village seemed so empty—everyone had gathered here to weigh their words.

And by the hostile looks on most of their faces, the verdict wasn’t likely to be a pleasant one.

Adrian swallowed, taking an involuntarily step toward the road they’d followed here. He’d expected a private meeting with Elana, not to be judged by the entire spirit-cursed Enclave!

Seymour leaned in. Adrian’s breath caught, a shiver of warmth coursing up his spine as the watcher rested a hand on his arm. “Don’t let them intimidate you. Remember why we’re here.”

Heartrender’s reassurance reverberated through their bond, along with Lockrod’s brash promise to defend him if necessary. Ghosttear rustled in its makeshift harness, looking up at him with slightly less lethargy than usual. Its own show of support, perhaps?

Despite his nerves, he grinned faintly and gave Seymour a nod. He could do this. He had to.

A familiar figure stood from the gathered crowd. Elana wore the same battered shawl as before, though she now also held a white wooden staff and had a beaded headdress woven into her silver hair. She regarded them with hard eyes, her previous friendliness gone.

Not a great sign.

She rapped her staff on the stone bench to silence the murmuring crowd. “Adrian and Seymour! Why have you returned?”

Straight and to the point. He could work with that. “When we spoke last, you said you didn’t know how you could trust our intentions.” He gestured at their assembled daemons. “Well, asyou can see, we have regained control of our aether. Yet still, we come before you in peace.”

Seymour narrowed his eyes at another figure who rose on Elana’s right.

“Peace?” said Leda, their former jailer. “Was itpeaceon your minds when you assaulted me or threatened our guards?” She spun to face her sister. “Look at them, flaunting their slaves as if that proves anything other than their own complicity in the League’s wickedness!”

“Enough, Leda.” Elana sounded tired, as if this were part of some longstanding dispute between them. “Your concerns are noted, and you will have a chance to present a reasoned argument in full. But first, let’s—”