“STOP, DO NOT TOUCH HER.” Gaheris ordered.

His words were a typhoon of mana, each syllable battering the footmen aside, throwing them bodily away from the carriage. Horses spooked, thrashing in their harnesses and backpedaling, Ashera anchored the reins with mana filled hands, steadying the beasts.

“Whoaaa.”

She was grateful for the space his words had bought her, Gaheris’ had used compulsion, one of the Seraphim gifts that allowed the owner to command humans, bind them and force blind obedience to the spoken order. Its potency shook Ashera, with a single sentence the Inquisitor could turn a city into a lynch mob.

“Have you ever eaten human flesh?” He asked.

Ashera swallowed, meeting his silver eyes with her own. The light stung, but what was pain? Gaheris was truly blessed, a close descendant of heaven with the eyes to see things as they were and the voice of command.

“Shin did not tell me what he served. I cleaned my plate to create an opportunity.” Ashera sneered, wrinkling her nose at the memory.

“So did I.” Answered Gaheris, his eyes narrowing to examine her eye. “That eye…”

He was silent for several moments, long enough for Ashera to notice his companions, the first was a dark Songhaian warrior who held a forward curving sword in his hand and a round steel shield, power radiated from him. Evidence of his channeled mana. Next to him stood a middle aged woman, plate armor covered her body from toe to neck, her helmet and gauntlets tied to her backpack. There was nothing feminine about her, from her midnight skin to the black horns growing out of her skull. Hair the color of sunlight made the contrast stark, painful to look at.

She looks like one of the Inobli, a race of nomadic warriors that Loki had shown her images of, when he was complaining about how they couldn’t take a joke and had chased him for three months.

“Let me kill the waif. Then we can get back to the war.” Growled the woman in a voice that sounded like gargled glass shards after breakfast, and enjoyed it.

Gaheris shook his head at the muscle mommy, “That woman is the Archon’s emissary. Go ahead Budresh, try to kill her. And know that when you fail I will execute you just like I did to your tribe, except this time there will be no afterlife.”

Budresh went very still, slowly folding her arms –armor clinking–, as if the Inquisitor’s words were weather chit chat. No surprises there, the Inquisition existed to hunt demons, but they had strict limits set on them from the, effectively omniscient, Seraphim. Killing a city of thousands was permitted, so long as they spared those who could be redeemed. Which came after years of interrogation, or military service to the Inquisition.

“Am I free to go? I need to kill Ger- a demon.” Ashera asked, tapping her foot against the wagon’s boards impatiently.

Gaheris’ eyes widened, his lips pulling back to show his teeth. He facepalmed.

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“Do you have any idea what that silver eye says when a Seraph beholds your face?” Gaheris asked.

Ashera shrugged, “No one has handed me a mirror. So how could I?”

Gaheris’ face went slack, then it broke into a cackling smile. Escalating to a riotous cackle. Several uncomfortable moments passed, with the soldiers looking everywhere except at Gaheris, while his two attendants leered at their boss, frowns depending with every ‘ha’. Budresh finally interrupted the Seraph with a fist to the back of his skull.

“Why are you laughing like a maniac?” She shouted.

He staggered forward from the blow, landing on one knee as he rubbed the back of his dome with one hand. Healing mana engulfed his head, leaving Ashera to wonder exactly how hard the Inobli woman had hit him.

“Ouch, I keep you around to hit others! Not me! Ahem. Captain this is where I leave you, continue your patrol and keep the peace. Kwarohn, Budresh, I hold your oaths fulfilled. You may only remain at my side if you no longer wish to live.” Said Gaheris, stepping onto the wagon.

His presence made Ashera’s skin crawl, like he was an entomancer and a thousand miniscule insects were running up her skirt. “Ugh!” She cried, shoving him off the wagon.

Gaheris plopped onto his ass, a whoosh of air leaving his lungs.

“Who said I wanted you to join me?”

“Fuck! What is with you bitches and hitting me! That hurts damnit! Don’t you know I'm an Inquisitor, I could have you both crucified!”

“What did you expect Gaheris? The whores may call you a ladies man, but only after you have opened your purse. Try explaining things like a sane human and you might get a reasonable response.” Kwarohn added.

“There is no reason left in this world.” Gaheris grumbled, turning to Ashera. “You need to find an Animagus right? Do you think the Inquisition left any of those masters within reach of the enemy?”

Find an animagus. Those were High Queen Lily’s last orders to her, find them before going after Geruvah. She ground her teeth, knowing what she had to do.

“Fine, but! Get in the back, you give me the willies.”

Gaheris opened his jaw to protest, only to be cut off by Budresh picking him up and tossing him bodily into the wagon, joining him in the back a second later.

“Would you quit manhandling me you biceps-brain? It’s not that I don’t enjoy it, but we are in public! I have a reputation to uphold.”

The silver eye detected no mana, making Ashera thankful for her undead body’s lack of reflexes when she realized Budresh had tossed the inquisitor, armor, weapons, and pack, ten feet into the air on her natural strength alone. ‘Nomadic warrior’ my ass! This woman is a siege tank, an armored catapult.

Kwarohn joined Ashera on the driver’s bench, pulling an amulet with the sign of the Inquisition –a stylized red tree with an “I” in the background– and displaying it for all to see. He snatched the reins from Ashera, whipping them forward. Ashera raised her hand to smack him, and froze when she saw the look in his brown eyes. She had seen that glint twice in her life, both times it came from a man who was more likely to cut your throat than utter a word. Kwarohn was not a warrior, or a sellsword, or an Inquisitorial agent, he was a killer. One whose attitude sucked, but that was to be expected from a bound Songhaian.

“Didn’t he just… Free you two?” Ashera Asked.

“Death will not free me from my oaths. Neither can Gaheris.” Kwarohn Said.

Her silver eye scanned the man, no heartbeat, no bloodflow, definitively answering her unasked question as ‘undead’. Alarmed, she turned to face Gaheris, and found him watching her, chomping away at one of her apples.

“Like peas in a pod.” He said.

“You better pay for that, and it aint cheap. Had to eat a human to acquire it.”

Gaheris coughed. “Now that I’ve joined your team, money is the last thing you should worry about. I have the full backing of the Inquisition, and their pockets are deeper than a whore’s– ow!”

Budresh flicked his ear, making it flop forward and hit his cheek.

“Stop making this uncomfortable. It is enough to die fighting.” She said.

“I would rather kill my enemies.” Ashera said.

“As would I.” Said Kwarohn.

“See!” Shouted Gaheris, “Peas. In. A. Pod!” He said, punctuating each word with a knife hand gesticulation.

I’ve joined a circus… Or wait, they invited themselves! A circus joined me! Thought Ashera, settling into the bench to meditate. Her eyes closed, and her muscles relaxed in the undead version of sleep, a half waking sense of suspended animation. It felt as natural as sleeping, a sensation she had not felt in… a month? Two months? Ashera couldn’t guess how long ago she had slept.