Maw of the Devourer, page 41
The other Face was a dark-skinned woman with long brown hair and eyes. She held herself with assuredness and grace that made her seem older than the thirty-odd years she looked. Though she looked as serious as the others in the tent, she was the first to notice Squall and the other’s entrance, and her serious expression gave way to a warm smile at the sight of Iris and Edgar.
“… you will need to deploy more of your Followers on the left flank, regardless,” the Dracalian officer said. She stared hard at the red-haired Face.
Iris strode into the command tent with her head held high. “It seems we have arrived at the perfect time.”
Squall almost missed the gesture Iris made to him and Lyrria to stay quiet and out of the way—they had planned to since before they had arrived. In other circumstances, he would have rolled his eyes. But right now, surrounded by Dracalians soldiers, he couldn’t find any humour in the situation.
“Eyes!” The female Face strode over to Iris and enveloped her into a hug. “It’s good to see you. Oh, don’t give me that look, Ears. It’s good to see you too!”
“And it is good to see you too, Nose,” Iris said. She turned to the short red-haired man and her eyes narrowed. “Mouth…”
The Dracalians stared at Squall and the others suspiciously, and Nose clapped her hands. “Ah, yes. Eyes, Ears, this is General Calriss of Dracalia. General, these are the other two Faces of the Devourer, the Eyes and the Ears.”
Calriss looked Iris and Edgar over like they were something she was about to buy. She must have found them lacking, judging by how she twisted her gaze from them to Squall immediately. Squall cringed under the weight of her stare, and he forced himself to ignore his desire to pull his hood down further. Sweat dripped down his face and time seemed to slow as Calriss stared at him.
But she turned away from him without a word and looked back to the Mouth and Nose. “Interruptions aside, we need to agree upon formations now.”
“My apologies, General.” Iris smiled at the general, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “But we need some privacy before we can continue this meeting. If you would not mind departing?”
Iris locked eyes with General Calriss for a tense moment. “Very well… We shall continue this later.”
General Calriss strode towards the edge of the tent—right towards where Squall stood. It took everything from Squall not to dive out of the way. Still, he took a step back and acted like he did so to get out of their way—there was only so much he could handle. When Calriss stepped past Squall, she froze and snapped her head toward his face. Squall stared at the grass and squirmed under the general’s attention. Tense seconds passed by, but the general strode away.
General Calriss and her attendants had surely seen his eyes. He couldn’t hide them and they must have known what they marked him as. Maybe they wouldn’t hurt him while he was a guest of their allies. Or maybe they would wait until he was alone… Fears piled up on top of each other and weighed Squall’s mind down.
I’m in the middle of a war camp full of people who hate me, Squall thought. They want to kill me!
A hand fell on his shoulder, and Squall nearly screamed. He glanced at Lyrria and took strength from the concern in her eyes. He managed a weak smile, and she patted him on the back before letting her hand fall. When Squall turned his attention back to the Faces, he found the air had thickened to a palpable degree.
Iris rounded on the Mouth and Nose. “What do you think you are doing?”
Shame flickered across the Nose’s face before her expression hardened. The Mouth, however, showed not even the slightest sign of regret and even smiled at Iris. “We are doing what you cannot, Eyes. What your predecessor failed to do! The Maw shall lead our charge as we carry out the Devourer’s will!”
Iris flinched at the man’s words and knuckles whitened with how hard she clenched her fists. But when she spoke, she did so in a controlled tone. “Have you not received word of the destruction the beast wrought in Gullet? The Second Cavern is practically all gone!”
“That was a necessary, if unintentional, sacrifice.” The Mouth’s slimy eyes and how his mouth quirked into a small smile at the pain in Iris’ voice made his words ring hollow.
“What are the rest of the Followers doing here with the army? I can understand the guards and the Limbs, but why haven’t you found somewhere for the others to settle?”
The Nose sighed and paced across the tent. “They are here so that we can sortie alongside the Dracalians when the time comes.”
Iris’ eyes widened, and she stomped after the Nose. “You plan to send untrained civilians into battle? What is wrong with you two?”
“Foolish Eyes,” the Mouth said, “all the Followers are necessary to secure the aid of the Dracalians. We can hardly ask them to march their army against the empire without fielding a force of our own.”
“And you decided this while I was conveniently away? Let us vote again, now that we are all here and see if we need to continue with this farce!”
A smug smile tugged at the Mouth’s lips. “Very well. Shall we vote whether we abandon our alliance with Dracalia and the upcoming war?” The other Faces nodded their agreement and Squall waited for some kind of special ceremony. “All those agreed? All those opposed?”
The vote split equally, with Iris and Edgar in agreement. Mouth and Nose voted against them, and the two sides stared at each other silently. Iris shot the Nose a hurt look and the older woman couldn’t meet her eyes. “Nose, what are you doing?”
“The vote is split.” The Mouth grinned at Iris, a twisted light in his eyes. “Therefore, the decision stands and we continue as we were. Are you satisfied now, Eyes? Finished with interrupting our good work with your selfishness?”
There had to be more going on than he understood, but Squall sighed. They had lost their reason for journeying all this way. What was the point if they couldn’t stop the war? Could they convince the Nose to change her vote? It seemed the only course of action they could take now.
Despite that, rage burned in Iris’ eyes as she stared at the Mouth. Even Edgar snarled at the other two Faces. The pair didn’t look ready to convince the Nose of anything. No words passed between the Faces, but the Mouth’s grin widened and the tense air thickened to a suffocating degree.
“There will be no need for the common Followers to march to battle,” a familiar voice said. Ceptin strode into the command tent, and nodded to them all as if his presence were natural.
“Ceptin!” Squall took a step towards the man and grinned. A small part of him hadn’t expected to see the man again, let alone in the middle of the Dracalian army’s camp. “What are you doing here?”
“It’s good to see you, Ceptin!” Lyrria joined Squall, but Ceptin covertly signalled for them to stop. Squall shared a look with Lyrria, but did as Ceptin ordered.
“You know this man?” The Nose stared at Squall and Lyrria for a moment, but turned her attention back to Iris and Edgar. “He is an attendant in the Dracalian army, is he not?”
Squall glanced at Ceptin and smiled. It didn’t surprise him that Ceptin had conjured another identity. Just as he had ingratiated himself into Melta and Monden, Squall expected Ceptin had multiple identities prepared, depending on what he needed to be. But Iris was not so willing to trust in Ceptin. “What is the meaning of this, Ceptin?”
Ceptin ignored Iris and turned a polite smile on the other Faces. “General Calriss will alter the deal she made with the Followers, as long as you agree to her new terms.”
“What are these new terms…?” The Mouth narrowed his eyes at Ceptin and leant on the table.
Ceptin held up a hand to silence any more questions. “First, you must all agree to not speak of what I am about to tell. Only those in this tent and General Calriss are privy to this secret. If you do not agree, then the deal shall not proceed…”
Squall frowned at Ceptin. What was the man planning? It didn’t seem like something he would like. Squall glanced at Lyrria, but she shrugged her shoulders. When Ceptin remained silent and a minute passed with no one speaking up, the Faces shared a look—well, the Mouth and Iris pointedly ignored each other, but the others all looked amongst themselves.
The Mouth was the first to speak. “Fine, I agree…”
“As do I,” the Nose added.
“Same here…” Edgar said.
All eyes shifted to Iris, who sighed and glared at Ceptin. “Fine.”
Everyone looked to Ceptin expectantly, but the man turned to Lyrria. “What about you?”
“Oh, um,” Lyrria blinked and withered under everyone’s attention. “Yes, fine by me, I guess.”
With that, Ceptin nodded. “The condition is that Squall joins the battle and follows orders to the best of his ability.”
“What?” Squall’s heart stopped. A flood of questions whirled in his mind. What was the man thinking? There was only one reason for Squall to join the battle. The Dracalians knew he was special! Had Ceptin betrayed his secret?
The Faces stared at Ceptin for a moment before turning to Squall with suspicious curiosity in their eyes; the Mouth’s gaze sent a shiver down Squall’s spine. Even Iris looked at him askance, suspicion painted on her face. But what was worst of all was the dubious look Lyrria shot him and the confused frown that creased her brow. Squall stared at Ceptin. What would he say next? He had to stop Ceptin before he gave even more away! Squall opened his mouth, but he froze. Fear gripped his heart and he could only watch Ceptin.
“Why is this Squall so important?” the Mouth asked. He still eyed Squall with those slimy eyes, weighing him. The crackle of a fire filled the silence and Squall cringed at what he knew was coming.
“Because Squall did something the Followers have not done in millennia. He slew a deity…” Ceptin’s words cut through the din of the crowd surrounding the tent and hung in the air ominously.
He really said it… Squall thought. His blood ran cold. Not from the immense sense of betrayal he felt towards Ceptin, nor at the mixture of disbelief and confusion in the eyes of the Faces.
But because of the look of confused horror on Lyrria’s face.
That look tore at Squall’s core and made him feel a guilt he had never felt towards Stormrider’s death. He wanted to reassure Lyrria, but he could not move or speak. There was no time to explain what had actually happened or why he had done what he had. Squall just stood there and stared at the ground.
“When Squall slew Stormrider,” Ceptin said, “she forced him to integrate some of her Essence into his soul, lest the Storm wreaked untold havoc and destruction upon the Alliance and the lands beyond. He simply had no other choice but to stop it however he could…”
Huh…? Squall frowned at Ceptin. That’s not exactly a lie, but I didn’t care about all that at the time.
The Nose nodded slowly and paced across the tent. “Oh… of course. I once saw the Storm at a distance and if its destructive power really matches what the stories claim, then… Well, this boy could easily match the strength of an untrained army—and without the guaranteed casualties, too. That is, if you speak the truth and he is capable of what you imply…”
The Nose looked at Squall with an odd mixture of respect and desire. Edgar echoed the look and so did the Mouth did, but desire filled the latter’s eyes and it made Squall’s skin crawl. Even Iris looked at him differently. It was not the same desire or respect the others showed, but a light had entered her eyes. She looked at him as if she weighed how he could benefit her—just like the Mouth. It hurt to see that light in her eyes.
Iris turned to the other Faces. “Shall we vote once more?”
One by one, each of the Faces voted to accept the new terms. The Mouth waited until last and spent an entire minute silently pondering before he answered affirmatively. Squall cared little for the man’s theatrics. He glowered at the Face because it felt like they had sealed his fate, even though they had no say in the matter.
Ceptin walked to the edge of the tent and gestured to a soldier. “Fetch the general.” The woman ran off and Ceptin strode back to the table. “We will have to wait until General Calriss arrives before we can officially accept the new terms.”
The Faces huddled together off to the side and whispered amongst themselves; Squall still heard some anger in Iris’ tone when she occasionally raised her voice, but they focused on planning what would happen next. Squall sighed and wrung his hands. He turned to Lyrria, but she turned her back on him. Pain stabbed his heart and Squall let his explanation die in his throat. At least she hadn’t left the tent. Maybe that was a good sign.
As Squall waited awkwardly at the edge of the tent, Ceptin approached him. Squall wanted to ignore the man, but he just didn’t have the energy left for that. Ceptin looked at him with an inscrutable expression and Squall sighed when he remembered how he never really knew what was on Ceptin’s mind. At least he could listen to the man’s apology for what he had done.
“Squall.” Ceptin pitched his voice low so no one else would overhear. “Keep the fact you were a Chosen before felling Stormrider to yourself.”
“Huh?” Squall blinked; that certainly wasn’t what he had expected to hear from the man.
“I had to sell the lie to the Dracalians that you were a normal person who rose against a tyrannical goddess. Naturally, they ate it up.”
“Really?” Squall scowled at Ceptin. Ceptin always had something he needed to play along with. Not that he dared to reveal the lie. “Fine, but how dare you reveal everything? Don’t you understand how to keep a secret?”
Ceptin did not flinch at the heat in Squall’s tone, but he looked a little sad—though Squall found he didn’t care! Ceptin shook his head and turned Squall away from the others in the tent. “Need I remind you how you owe me for saving Riti’s life?”
“But that’s…!”
“I ask you to forgive me and work with me on this. It is important.”
Squall hesitated. He owed Ceptin; that much was true. It wasn’t fair that he called in the favour now, but it would be a mark against his character to deny Ceptin’s request. And he didn’t want to deny Ceptin, either. Despite the betrayal, Squall liked Ceptin, and the man had helped him more than anyone else. If he reneged on his promise, it would cheapen how desperate he had been to save Riti that day—and he didn’t want to do that. “Fine—”
Ceptin held up a hand. “It is necessary for you to do this, Squall. Your actions will save more lives than they will take, I guarantee that!”
The quiet intensity in Ceptin’s voice did nothing to hide the horror of his implication. Ceptin wanted him to kill people with the Storm.
That thought sunk in slowly. He had known deep down that Ceptin would use him, but this went further. It struck deep and twisted the knife at the same time… Squall stared at the man, but movement outside the tent interrupted his reverie. General Calriss strode into the tent alongside her attendants.
Calriss glanced at the Faces, taking in their huddled conversation with a pleased expression on her face. But she passed them by and walked over to where Squall and Ceptin stood. When Calriss stepped up to Squall, she bowed her head to him. “It is an honour to meet you, Squall.”
General Calriss lifted her head and an intense light burned in her eyes as she stared at Squall. Both of the general’s attendants mirrored Calriss’ expression. Their greeting showed none of the barely masked derision they had treated him with before.
“You were supposed to keep quiet about Squall, General,” Ceptin said.
Calriss waved off Ceptin’s pointed remark. “Geldra and Yodel needed to know, Ceptin. Sir Squall’s presence will change our tactics, and we must account for him properly.” Calriss turned from Ceptin to Squall, clearly done with Ceptin’s objections. “Let me repeat myself; it is an honour to meet you, Sir Squall.”
Squall shivered at the intensity in her eyes. “N-nice to meet you, too…”
“I must ask, how did—”
“Ahem!” Iris approached the table in the centre of the tent and stared at the general. Calriss’ face twitched, but she shook her head and remembered where she was. With a regretful nod, the general strode to the table. “Are you ready to discuss our deal?”
“I am told that you accept the new terms.”
The Mouth leant on the table and rolled his slimy eyes. “Yes, we do.”
“Good.” Calriss stuck out her hand, but she retracted it a second later. “You will still field your trained soldiers as a part of this new agreement.”
“Of course. Is there anything else?”
“No, that shall do.” Calriss shook the Mouth’s hand. Without skipping a beat, Calriss turned back to Squall. “When will the Storm be ready?”
Everyone followed Calriss’ gaze and Squall withered under the attention. No one gave him a chance to dispute what Ceptin had agreed to on his behalf. Squall took a deep breath and kept his voice steady. “A week. I think. Maybe a little longer. I need a map of the surrounding area so I can direct the Storm around any settlements, though.”
Squall wasn’t confident in his ability to control the storm, but he couldn’t deny the Dracalians. Calriss smiled and gestured to her attendants. “Every map we have is at your disposal!”
The attendants rushed to fetch the maps, and Calriss stared at Squall with those intense brown eyes. Even the Mouth eyed him with a burning desire. Squall clasped his hands to keep them from shaking and glanced longingly out of the tent.
“I believe Squall must be tired after his long journey.” Ceptin patted Squall’s shoulder and held a flat stare at both Calriss and the Mouth. “Perhaps we should adjourn for tonight so he can rest?”
“Ah, of course.” Calriss nodded, but she didn’t hide the disappointed hitch to her tone. “If there is anything you need, Sir Squall, then send a request to my officers and I shall see it fulfilled.” Calriss stepped up to him and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, with your help, we’ll surely crush the Lithyans!”
