Page 1 of Where Exorcists Cannot Lie

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Prologue

Ysêmyr, Empire

Xendra Hun, the Head of the Exorcist Department, would hardly ever be seen without her signature scowl, an intricate ginger updo and Cyrid, a tiny mountain owl perched somewhere on her person. In this respect, that day didn’t deviate from the norm. Except when I knocked on the half-opened door of Xen’s study, her crimson lips stretched into something resembling a smile.

“Ah, Tazãr, come sit.” She waved me in, the glittery varnish on her nails catching the light. “I’ve got a job for you.”

I advanced inside and plopped myself onto the chair opposite Xen’s.

A flutter of wings followed as soon as I fished a lump of sugar cane out of my pocket. Cyrid stayed on my palm long enough to scoff the treat and let me offer a gentle stroke to the space between his eyes. He took off right after, returning to his spot on Xen’s shoulder.

“Gods Xen, please tell me you're sending me back to Ghadarra. This place is doing my head in. I’ve stayed here too long. I’m ten paces away from a spiritual malfunction.”

“You’re always ten paces from some kind of malfunction.” Xen snickered and picked a feather off the front of her grey silk robes that matched mine. “Let’s see your report first. Have you closed the succubus case?”

“Yup. All done and dusted. A straightforward Type-Two offence concluded with a warning.” I dug into the depths of my pocket to pull out a scroll. Wedged sideways, the parchment put up some resistance against the fabric of my uniform, but in the end, I handed it to Xen. “Here. I even used coloured inks to make it pretty for you.”

Xen unrolled the text and scanned it, her right eyebrow arching higher and higher towards her hairline as she went along. I took it as a sign of appreciation for my fancy Elven stationery and my creative writing skills.

“Excellent.” Xen nodded. Sparks of Magic erupted from her fingertips to light a wax stick. Green goo dripped down the document, creating a small, round puddle at the bottom, neat as you like. Xen pressed her sealing stamp on it. “You don’t think she’ll be causing problems again, do you?”

“Nah, I doubt it.” I stretched my arms over my head, working the kinks out of my neck. “A three-month power binding under disorderly conduct should do it to rap her knuckles.” Putting random and unsuspecting pedestrians in the main square under a remote lust glamour to inflict unsolicited—and very loud—orgasms on them? Yeah, that more than satisfied the criteria for disturbance of the peace, morals and safety of the general public. “Besides she’s got a lady friend now. The innkeeper who originally reported her. Think of that what you will.”

“Hmm.” Xen's mouth twitched. “Love works in mysterious ways?”

“Well, the taverner is built like a brick shithouse and lacks a sense of humour. She oozes oodles of sexual energy, though, as dense as marmalade. So, yes. I’m inclined to believe she might be able to keep the throes of passion in-house and our succubus from re-offending. For a good while, anyway.”

“Grand. That's all we can ask for.” Xen rolled up the parchment, tied the cord knot around it and tossed the file onto the tray annotated terminated, calligraphed in elegant cursive script.

“So? Am I going home or what?” I asked with attitude.

I sulked, and I knew it. I detested Ysêmyr—together with the arrogant prejudices, bureaucracy and pretentious manners that came with it. In contrast, I loved the independence and flexibility being stationed in the Barbarian Territory had granted me. Things functioned in an unfussy and laid-back way over there. And the food didn’t suck. I couldn't wait to go back to my busy but tranquil life.

A month spent in the Imperial Capital had me feeling antsy. I’d only come for a quick visit to attend the annual Exorcists’ seminar, suffer through the necessary networking and complete a workshop on incantations. But afterwards, Xen had roped me in to lend a hand with a few cases. Our Ysêmyrian division—chronically undermanned, given its mad workload and high staff turnover—often relied on outside help. Not many exorcists fancied sticking around and dealing long-term with the local demons, known for being ginormous pricks.

“Yes, you are going home.” Xen clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes. “It so happens I’ve got a case for you back in Ghadarra.”

The enormous grin I couldn’t stifle almost cracked my mug in half. “Brilliant. Tell me.”

Xen stuck her swan quill behind her ear and leaned against the backrest of her armchair.

“Ke-wick,” Cyrid expressed his disgruntled opinion on the matter of sudden position changes and scooted a little towards Xen’s collarbone. He let her console him with a few soft caresses to his chest and under his wing.

“Well, there’s not much to tell for now. That’s why I need you to assess the situation once you get there.” Xen’s forehead creased into a frown. “For a while now, I’ve been receiving reports on this demon called Inuel Morhh. He’s dealing illegal talismans and enchantments out of the Rams of Asirhwÿn, a tavern in the Elven Quarter.”

I lifted an eyebrow. “All right. Anything sinister?”

The matter didn’t sound too concerning unless the wares were juiced up with dark substance, like ill intent and resentment energy, or poorly made and thus violating health and safety regulations. As a rule, provided no malicious curses and hexes traded hands, we exercised a certain degree of leniency. An illicit market for charms produced with unauthorised Magic had always existed and our department fostered no illusions of grandeur that involved eradicating it to the hilt. Especially in Ghadarra, where the law tended to be treated as a more relaxed affair than in the Empire.

Xen shook her head. “Not on the surface. But he’s getting bold. Seems to have done away with the competition in the inner city and established something of a monopoly for himself. And mind you, he’s not shifting your usual rubbish, either. Our operatives say it’s high-potency shit.” Xen tapped her finger on the leather upholstery of her chair. “I think it’s worth keeping a close eye on him to see if he’s scheming something bigger. Also, because he’s an Alpha Demon.”

I blinked. Right then, Xen had my undivided attention.

Alpha Demons were scarce enough for scholarly studies to award them an uncommon designation. I, for one, hadn’t met one in person despite my long years in the profession.

Small as their numbers might be, Alpha Demons caused tension headaches for the Guild. The reason? Their special-class ability that allowed for the absorption or suppression of the powers inherent in other demonic creatures. Should they decide to go rogue, Alphas could, and often did, pose a considerable threat. For that reason, our department liked adopting a pre-emptive approach towards them. That meant monitoring their whereabouts and running random checks of their conduct—just to ensure they weren’t up to nasty business.

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