Ghost Monkey, стр. 42
Prince Anka held up a hand to silence the bear. "Dameneh, we use the word Bahimatt for the holy city. It is in our texts as such, handed down by Pannee, the first spirit, and we would like to keep with our custom. Where do you get the name Yoshiket?" The prince crossed his legs, and folded his fingertips under his chin.
"The One calls it Yoshiket. The writing we found in the city gives that name, too. Bahimatt was a name given to keep you from finding this city."
Sugriva coughed. Surely the One forsook Dameneh and was looking to have them both executed.
Prince Anka waited for the people to settle down before speaking. "Dameneh, you force my hand, and I only have one recourse. Guards, arrest them and throw them in prison."
Sugriva shifted into his janaav form and prepared to fight, but Dameneh touched him and said, "It's okay."
He addressed the prince. "An army comes from the east. You will need Sugriva. He is a man of peace now, and he will bring them comfort when you want war. They will be a small and heavily armed people, and they are refugees just like you and me. You will have the advantage, but I beg you to act with wisdom and peace, good prince."
The guards bound the two and escorted them to the prisons, and Dameneh said, "I will see you soon."
The door locked. Sugriva asked, "Is there really an army coming from the east, or was it a bluff?"
"They are coming." Dameneh undid the bindings and rubbed his wrists.
"Did your God tell you that?"
Dameneh undid Sugriva's bindings. "No." He winked at Sugriva. "We have scouts, just as you do. But we have the numbers to use our scouts and explore the city, unlike the Jayans. The approaching army is small, but they are skilled warriors. They also have a lot of elementalists."
"Why am I needed to help with the peace?"
"Honestly, you're not. I’m not even sure if I am. But if they knew that, we would likely be dead. Why not tell me a story while we wait on our heroes?"
Chapter SixteenDemon of Three Tasks
Age of Men 812
Sugriva harvested taro with the locals, working through the fields. Everyone was of the farmer caste in the middle of nowhere. Sugriva lied to them and said he was a farmer. No one believed him, especially after he killed a tiger. However, they would rather have a tiger-killing liar than dead farmers.
"Sugriva," a little girl cried out. "I made a talisman. It will let the Ashtadash see you. Do you like it?"
Insect dye smeared on woven reeds formed the charm. White paint, probably from local tree bark, was in the center. Hemp rope made it a necklace. He put it over his head, though the string was tight, and he shifted into a monkey to get it on. He shifted back. "Thank you, Upama. I'll always wear it." He rustled her hair.
The girl blushed, waving back and forth with her fingers interlocked. "I'm glad you like it. I'll make you another, just in case you lose that one."
Sugriva laughed. "You are a sweet and tender child, showing love to those who don't deserve it. I'm a dirty and ornery monkey, and you do not need to bother making another."
"You are not a dirty monkey," she howled. "You bathe in the river all the time."
Sugriva coughed from laughing so hard. "You are too precious. Go to your parents. I need to collect more roots."
The girl did as she was told. Sweet Upama was the only villager to regularly talk to Sugriva. Many of them never saw a janaav before, and he was useless as a farmer. Farming required a great deal of discipline and timing, while Sugriva had too much wanderlust and impatience, though Ishku’s teachings helped a bit. Even better, the boring routine kept the corruption in check.
A yelp in the jungle broke him from his thoughts. Sugriva picked up two sickles and sprinted to the cry of Upama. The fool girl was supposed to go to her parents.
Sugriva shifted into a monkey, climbed up a tree, and darted from branch to branch until he was above the girl. There was a shape, and, without thinking, Sugriva flung himself into the air. He slipped the knife from its sheathe and ran through the form, stabbing deep into meat which spewed black blood.
"Demon," Sugriva hissed and jumped back. He shoved Upama behind him, and said, "Run girl. Get back to the village." She obeyed and screamed the entire way.
The demon took form, a large man of fair skin with blood smeared across his mouth. He wore a loin cloth, and his torso was as thick as a tree. He held a bone club. "A monkey and a man. A janaav. Don't see many of you here."
"We are. So are demons. What do you want?" He noticed the smoke on his nails thickened.
"I Mobtachkta. Struck deal with villages, I did. Feed me like beast. I kill other beasts. Ignore me, monkey. I spare you and girl. Stay out of way. I not bleed on field. Torture people." He licked his lips, smearing the blood on his mouth, but not removing it.
"I can protect this village, but I don't want to fight you. There has to be something I could do so you’d move on."
Mobtachkta thought on this proposition, stroking his chin. Finally he said, "Three tasks. Give power. Power to hunt Jaya. You do tasks?"
"Why haven't you done it yourself?"
"Demon thrall. Loud. Disliked. No blend in."
"Name the tasks."
"Staff of Earth. Spirits guard. Get you directions. Second in Pindan. Salt in Tomb of Raya. Tell three you get back."
"What's the Staff of Earth and who cares about salt from an old tomb?"
"Staff change size." He scratched at his loin cloth and Sugriva held back nausea. "Salt give strength."
"And the third," he