Spellslinger (Spellslinger #1)(41)
‘Our Jan’Tep ancestors gave us magic so that we could protect each other,’ he said, standing four feet above the ground atop the cloth-covered cage, his voice silencing the crowd. ‘So that when danger came, we would face it together, not cower under our beds or wail in prayer.’
A few murmurs arose from those near me, some voicing concern but most supporting my father’s sentiment. I’d never seen that many people in the oasis at one time before. Bodies were crammed into every square inch and spilling out onto the surrounding streets.
‘You people throw the oddest parties,’ Ferius Parfax said from behind me.
‘Why do you keep sneaking up on me like that?’ I asked, irritated.
‘Why is it you never pay attention to anything around you?’
She gave me a grin to take the sting out of the words and I felt a stab of guilt over not telling her that the dowager magus had asked me to spy on her. ‘Ferius …’
‘Later, kid,’ she said, looking past me. ‘Your father’s talking.’
Ke’heops went on about courage and honour and how the council and every mage in the clan would protect the town. He told the story of what had taken place on the Snake the previous night and assured them that he’d already sent word to other Jan’Tep cities. Some of the council members took turns reciting poems and stories about how we’d overcome nekhek infestations before and reminded us all that there was a reason why the Jan’Tep thrived, when the Mahdek were all but gone from the world.
‘Let us see the enemy!’ an old man shouted from nearby.
Other voices rose up in agreement. Speeches were fine, but few had ever seen a nekhek in their lifetime. My father looked annoyed but finally jumped off the cage and down to the sand. ‘Very well,’ he said, and pulled the cloth from the cage.
As the creature inside was revealed, its jaws opened wide and it growled at the crowd. Its paws scratched at the bars and lock on the front of the cage, probing for the means to escape. The onlookers in the oasis shrank back, hands covering their mouths as if they could catch a disease simply by breathing the same air as the nekhek.
There was no shouting, no screaming. Only the awed silence of a people come face to face with the creature that has stalked their nightmares. That, and the sound of one woman laughing.
‘Have you lost your mind?’ I hissed angrily to Ferius Parfax. ‘Stop laughing!’
A figure wearing a robe of red-and-white silk pushed through the crowds towards us. It was Ra’meth. ‘Of course,’ he said, a sneer on his face. ‘The Daroman spy and her little Sha’Tep ally from the House of Ke take joy at the presence of a creature bred to draw the power from Jan’Tep mages and the life from our children!’
Ra’meth’s words very nearly echoed my father’s own as to why the other initiates had been getting sick. Except nobody’s complained of being bitten by a demonic shadow creature, and it doesn’t seem like the kind of thing you forget.
‘Kellen was the one who faced down the Mahdek,’ shouted someone. It was one of the mages who’d accompanied my father the night before. ‘Without him we never would have caught the nekhek and it would still be out there.’
‘So he would have us believe,’ remarked Ra’meth.
‘So I say,’ my father replied, coming towards us. People parted before him, showing him even more respect than usual. You could see on their faces that the prospect of Mahdek assassins had reminded them that it mattered who became clan prince. They wanted strength in all its forms. Strength was what my father offered.
When he reached us he stopped in front of Ferius. ‘Would you mind telling us what’s so funny?’
She put up a hand. ‘Sorry, sorry. It’s just that … well, is that –’ and here she pointed at the creature in the cage. ‘Is that really the dreaded nekhek? Bane of the Jan’Tep people? Corruptor of mages and warriors and –’ she giggled like a child – ‘mercy killer of sick puppy dogs?’
‘It is a plague animal,’ Ra’meth said. ‘Bred to chew weak-weed that mixes with the creature’s saliva. A single bite can paralyse a mage’s power, making us defenceless. It brings disease and ill luck. It is a creature of darkness and death, and its kind has wrought more destruction upon the Jan’Tep than the Mahdek ever did.’
For some reason that sent Ferius into an uncontrollable flurry of laughter, and if it hadn’t been for a warning look from my father, I’m pretty sure Ra’meth would have lit her up with fire magic right then and there.
It was true that in the light of day the nekhek didn’t look quite so fierce. Its fur wasn’t as dark as I’d remembered, more a tan colour like the sand around the oasis. Its claws and teeth looked sharp, but were no longer nor sharper than those of a wild cat. But I still remembered the speed with which it moved, the way it had snapped the neck of the sick animal that the men in Mahdek masks had tried to use against my sister, and when I looked at the glinting black irises staring back at us, I didn’t doubt for a second that it could have torn out my throat just as easily as the dog’s. ‘It’s a lot more dangerous than it looks,’ I said.
‘Oh, I’m sure it is,’ Ferius said. ‘Positively deadly. It’s just that, well, in Darome and most other places, they’re mostly known for rooting through bins and occasionally stealing food. See, the rest of the civilised world wouldn’t call that animal in there a “nekhek”.’