《Under Her Stone 2》


 Chapter 1 Cary - Caroline

    ¡°Caroline Helman.¡± When she spoke, the petite man with half his head shaved flashed Cary a grin and nodded. He accepted the blank piece of paper from Cary as if it bore some essential arcane runes. The name Papa Butch chose for her grated Cary. He knew it, which was clearly why he chose that particular name. Cary imagined the old man was laughing at her right now as she stood there.


    ¡°Elenore Jones.¡± Emilia¡¯s arm snaked into the crook of Cary¡¯s arm as Emilia handed a similarly blank piece of paper to the attendant. The look the attendant flashed her, as if Emilia had interrupted something between him and Cary might have made Cary¡¯s blood boil. But with the cool touch of Emilia¡¯s skin against her own, Cary had trouble stoking the fires of her anger.


    Over the month since they¡¯d fought off the warren of sorcerers, Emilia had blossomed. She¡¯d braided her grey-brown hair into a halo of intricate weaves which resembled a crown. It exposed the delicate lines of her neck and ears. Cary adored the cute little discs to either side of Emilia¡¯s head. Emilia giggled if Cary stroked them and that particular sound unlocked a key to something Cary had long thought lost: bliss.


    After those four weeks, Emilia had stopped hunching her shoulders forward and hiding her gaze by pointing it to the ground. The confident, assured side of Emilia had the same effect on Cary as her giggle.


    Cary was smitten.


    When she turned back to the attendant, she noted the look he flashed between Emilia and Cary. It was hungry, almost predatory in aspect. There was a time when Cary would have noted such a look for later vengeance. Or at least fantasized over executing her vengeance as she¡¯d spent most of her years trapped under her master¡¯s control, unmoving and forced to passively observe the world around her..


    ¡°What are you looking at?¡± Now that she had the freedom to act as she pleased, she did not intend to accept any such disrespect from some mere servant.


    The man behind the ticket counter turned as red as his starched vest and cleared his throat. ¡°Are you two traveling together?¡±


    ¡°Are you going to answer my question?¡± This time Cary growled. Scorn from such a minor being would make her look foolish before any who might learn¡­ Emilia squeezed her arm in a clear signal. Cary sighed and scratched at her cheek. ¡°I am a bit tired, never mind.¡±


    The clerk let out a breath he¡¯d been holding as his mind attempted to clank out a fitting response to her hostile question. That she had this effect on the foolish mortal made Cary feel a little better about bullying him. And it would make the minor lecture she¡¯d receive from Emilia on the plane easier to swallow.


    Emilia eyed Cary with a quirk to her lips and tip-toed up to the counter. ¡°We are traveling together, please make sure we have seats next to each other.¡± She made a motion with her hands. ¡°First class, naturally.¡±


    The clerk blinked at Emilia as the glamour took effect. ¡°Of course Ms Jones. Right away.¡±


    They couldn¡¯t buy their tickets online as neither Cary nor Papa Butch knew magic sufficient to manipulate the stream of digital information on which this modern society ran. The fact had made Cary feel old. Cash, the cloth-based currency of this nation, was simple to counterfeit with magic and no one would notice the switch until it reached their central bank. Possibly not even until well after that; Emilia and Papa Butch both possessed top-tier magical abilities.


    When Cary met up with the Cabal in Armenia, she intended to learn some digital manipulation magics, even if she still couldn¡¯t cast magic of her own. The convenience of online transactions was irrefutable.


    ¡°What were you going to do, challenge the guy to a duel or something?¡± Emilia teased Cary, she could tell by the tone of Emilia¡¯s voice.


    ¡°No, of course not. But I refused to let him disrespect us with his perverse glare. I refuse to allow anyone to do the same.¡± They walked over to a long winding line that the signs indicated were for a security check. The notion of travel being blocked behind government sanction rankled Cary and reminded her that despite the incredible progression of humanity, parts of it were stuck forever in barbarism.


    ¡°Can I tell you a secret?¡± Emilia blinked up at Cary, who stilled her breath and shifted her face into a passive mask at the question.


    ¡°Of course you can.¡± The mention of ¡°secrets¡± reminded Cary of the weight of her own. Especially the secrets she held back from Emilia.


    Emilia leaned into Cary¡¯s shoulder and lowered her voice. ¡°When you act all defensive like that. It kinda turns me on.¡±


    Cary¡¯s chest rumbled and she regretted that they stood among a herd of mortal sheep. If the choice had been left to her, she would have swept Emilia up in a lascivious kiss, displaying their attraction for the world to see. But Emilia had banned, ¡°public displays of affection¡± as unseemly. Cary had trouble pinpointing the line between acceptable and unacceptable in this modern society, even with access to Emilia¡¯s memories. For example, Emilia draping herself on Cary¡¯s arm and pressing her chest into Cary¡¯s elbow did not count. But kissing or stripping nude did. All of it amounted to arbitrary nonsense that Cary intended to break Emilia of in a few hundred years. They both had ample amounts of time before them, so Cary tried to enjoy the social maze Emilia forced her to walk.


    ¡°So?¡± Emilia nudged Cary, who looked down at her and blinked.


    Right, Emilia wanted Cary to respond. ¡°If we were in a private place, I would press you against a wall and explore the depths of your mouth with my tongue.¡±


    Emilia¡¯s eyes widened and she cleared her throat. ¡°Okay, that kind of turns me on too.¡±


    An older woman ahead of them in line turned back to look at them from the corner of her eye. For a moment, Cary felt certain she would have to defend Emilia¡¯s honor again, but the old woman simply winked at Cary and flashed her a thumb¡¯s up. It was a mortal gesture of encouragement and brought a smile to Cary¡¯s lips.


    ¡°We, um. Need to remove our shoes.¡± Emilia pointed to the sign bearing the same instructions.


    ¡°This is just idiotic.¡± Over the millennia humanity had managed several marvels. Flight, automated transportation, the Internet. But as far as Cary was concerned two of their greatest achievements had been in the form of pants and footwear. The sandals she wore cushioned her feet and let the breezes tickle the hairs on the tops of her toes. These represented a considerable step up ¡ª pun intended ¡ª from slapping a thin piece of leather under the sole and tying it down with catgut. That the authorities demanded she discalceate only further reinforced the innate barbarism of mankind.


    ¡°At least we don¡¯t have much to carry on. That would suck.¡± Emilia removed her slip on dancing shoes and revealed her stockinged feet.


    Cary pushed her nose into Emilia¡¯s ear as she bent over to remove her sandals. ¡°I thought there was an injunction against baring our bodies in public? I find myself ¡®turned on¡¯ now too.¡±


    Emilia shuddered beneath Cary¡¯s voice and shook her head. ¡°You are terrible. We can fool around in first class, but not now.¡± She scooted away from Cary, who considered the blush painted across Emilia¡¯s neck and shoulders an indication of victory.


    Their shoes and bags ¡ª Emilia insisted Cary purchase a handbag and bring it with her on the plane ¡ª rolled down the conveyor belt along with dozens of others. The possibility of someone stealing their shoes grated on Cary and distracted her from the uniformed mortals who waved a metallic wand at her.


    Instantly, the hairs rose over her body and Cary prepared herself to defend Emilia. She interposed herself between the man and Emilia with hardly a thought and he hesitated with a confused expression. ¡°I will not allow you to hurt¡­¡±


    Emilia grabbed Cary¡¯s arm, hard. ¡°Sorry, she¡¯s from out of town.¡± Lowering her voice, she added, ¡°That¡¯s just a metal detector, relax weirdo. And try not to attack anyone in here. Please?¡±


    After almost ten millennia, Cary discovered a new weakness in the word ¡®please.¡¯ One simple word, uttered from Emilia¡¯s lips and Cary¡¯s will departed her mind. She bowed to the odious mortal with his ¡°metal detector¡± and said, ¡°I apologize. I misunderstood your intent.¡±


    The man raised an eyebrow at Cary but motioned Emilia forward. His wand beeped at her wrist where the charm Cary passed on from Papa Butch hung. Again, Cary¡¯s fury tried to rise as Emilia smiled at the man and removed the magical talisman. It was a foolish, though not entirely unjustified fear. That charm prevented Cynthia ¡ª Emilia¡¯s abusive godmother ¡ª from locating Emilia. It also prevented Cynthia¡¯s demonic master from doing the same. Every second that charm did not physically touch Emilia¡¯s skin, the young woman¡¯s life was in danger. The chances Cynthia or her infernal master spent every waking moment tracking Emilia were low, essentially non-existent, but still higher than Cary preferred.


    The uniformed mortal ushered Emilia on through a plastic archway where a bored-looking second mortal stared forward as if his mind had been captured by the plastic artifice. Cary strode forward, to stand beside Emilia but the first mortal stopped her. ¡°I need to check you too, Ms.¡±


    Cary held herself still while the man waved his vile device over her body. It failed to emit any of its alarms, so he motioned for her to pass through the plastic archway. The same bored attendant instructed her how to stand, in a pose that matched a diagram next to the arch.


    Cary adopted the position and stood unmoving while the archway beeped at her. A small commotion took place among the uniformed guard and Cary grew concerned. Ahead of her, Emilia had already retrieved her charm as well as their shoes and bags. A third mortal, this one a uniformed woman, moved to block Cary¡¯s egress from the archway.


    ¡°Something¡¯s just wrong, Mack.¡± The formerly bored arch-starer pointed to the machine while Cary listened in.


    ¡°Show me¡­ what the fuck?¡± The uniformed guard who held the wand, ¡°Mack,¡± looked where the second guard indicated. ¡°That¡¯s impossible.¡±


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    Mack eyed Cary and waved her over. ¡°I need to check you with the wand again.¡±


    ¡°Is there a problem, sir?¡± Cary used her most soothing voice. This sentence had magical properties, like seeking a demons¡¯ True Name, mortals tended to explain themselves when they heard it.


    ¡°Yes, I mean no. Let¡¯s just check you out again here.¡± Mack was clearly lying as he waved his wand up and down Cary¡¯s body. He even stepped aside and waved it next to the conveyor belt. The wand emitted its alarm and he tapped it on his palm. Once again, he moved it over Cary¡¯s body and she began to grow impatient.


    ¡°Is there something I can do to help you?¡± It was another magical social phrase, meant to clear the way and give the guard an out for his unusual behavior.


    ¡°Everything is fine, but I need you¡­¡± he searched the waiting crowd for Emilia, ¡°and your companion to come with me.¡±


    By then, every eye in the line had fallen on Cary. Most held a note of scorn or impatience, attitudes Cary shared. But a few of them wore naked fear in their eyes as if Cary might erupt with nascent violence at any moment.


    ¡°What¡¯s the matter, sir?¡± Emilia stepped over the line, following the large uniformed woman. ¡°Is something wrong?¡±


    ¡°I just need you two to come with me for additional screening.¡± The man didn¡¯t lay a hand on Cary, which meant he retained his fingers in their unbroken state. Neither did the woman touch Emilia. As if their instincts warned them against taking actions that would result in severe bodily harm.


    Emilia nodded to Cary and mouthed, ¡°everything¡¯s fine, cooperate,¡± so Cary tacked a fake smile to her lips and followed the guards to a small room.


    There, they subjected both Cary and Emilia to a ¡°strip search.¡± When Emilia¡¯s face turned red at the discussion, Cary had started to resist the notion. Again, a signal from Emilia settled Cary¡¯s ire and she permitted the woman to watch them both strip, alone in rooms with her. Cary did not mind the nudity before mortal men or women. But it clearly made Emilia uncomfortable and for that, she would have ripped the spines out of every mortal in the airport, if not for Emilia¡¯s pleading gaze.


    The humiliation of stripping in front of strangers behind them, the three guards ¡ª Mack, another male human and the woman who¡¯d supervised their search ¡ª carried out actions that suggested the two women would return to their flight shortly. Cary began the process of relaxing after the minor ordeal when Mack, the apparent leader of this group, held his hand to his ear. Over the static of the audio transmitter attached to his head, Cary had trouble making out exactly what had been communicated. She distinctly heard her fake name as well as Emilia¡¯s spoken over the audio device.


    Mack¡¯s hand went to the electric weapon at his side and he began to draw it. Cary moved too quickly for him, crossing the small room in the time it took Mack to unbutton his weapon. In the meantime, the three other occupants of the room began their own languid responses.


    ¡°STOP!¡± The word reverberated through the room, loud enough for the walls to bow outward as Emilia spoke. Only Cary remained unaffected by the magic as the three guards all hung limp in their former positions. Fortunately for Mack, the word gave Cary pause. Rather than break his wrist and possibly his elbow, she settled for lightly restraining him.


    ¡°What the fuck, Cary?¡± Emilia¡¯s ire slapped Cary against the back. It stiffened her muscles and raised a form of discomfort in the demoness she had grown unaccustomed to.


    ¡°They were about to initiate an attack against us.¡± Cary had to search Emilia¡¯s memory for the word, ¡°Their earpieces alerted them with our names and Mack reached for his weapon, his taser.¡±


    ¡°Shit. Why?¡± Cary shrugged at the question, but Emilia had only partially directed it toward her. Instead, Cary reached out and tapped Mack on the forehead. The spell she cast under her breath required physical contact. ¡°Why were you about to attack us?¡±


    Mack¡¯s eyes glazed as he stared through Emilia. ¡°A report came back on you two. You are smuggling drugs to Europe and we were ordered to detain you until the authorities arrive.¡±


    ¡°Shit!¡± Cary and Emilia spoke in unison. From Cary¡¯s own former master, Elelele to Emilia¡¯s, to the former sorcerous associates of Samantha the Chaos Mage, Cary and Emilia had collected a wide array of enemies. Any one of those possessed the magical ability to bring the temporal authorities down on the two women and use those same authorities to bring them to heel.


    ¡°Should we kill them?¡± To Cary, the solution was simple: eliminate the mortals and ensure that their trail went cold here in the Austin International Airport.


    ¡°Gods, no!¡± Emilia bit her lip and paused for a moment to gather her thoughts. Cary waited to see what Emilia would do. Aside from her rare magical gifts, Cary¡¯s apprentice, servant, and partner possessed a keen intellect. She tapped Mack on the forehead and said, ¡°You will report to your supervisor that we were the wrong women. We are different women: Sandra and Kimmy and the women you were looking for, Caroline and Eleanor escaped when you tried to subdue us.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Um, the rest of these events, your magical ensorcellment, and our faces will become blurry to you after this, like a nightmare from your distant past. You will not react until thirty seconds after we¡¯ve left this office.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    Emilia sighed as Mack leaned back in his chair and his face grew blank. ¡°Okay, two more to go¡­¡± she walked over to the other guards and gathered herself up. Her shoulders had started to slump and her posture shrink after she ensorcelled the second man with the same essential instructions.


    When Emilia reached the woman, she tapped her on the forehead and the woman shook herself out of Emilia¡¯s enforced trance.


    ¡°What the fuck is going on here.¡± Like her boss, Mack, the woman reached for her weapon. This time, Cary had to break her wrist in order to stop her from reaching the taser. A broken bone disabled most people, but this random security guard possessed both a will strong enough to resist Emilia¡¯s suggestion and strong enough to keep moving with multiple broken bones. ¡°Why are you doing this? Are you terrorists? I won¡¯t give you anythi¡­¡±


    Tears fell from Emilia¡¯s cheek as she reached out to the woman. At once, Cary knew what Emilia was doing and pity rose up for her in Cary. Hatred for this system and the mortals who¡¯d almost caught them warred with sympathy for the woman. As Emilia reached for her innate magic, the Consumption, she enlivened the mystical connection between her and Cary. At the same time, the gentle caress she drew over the woman¡¯s cheek drained the guard of her vital essence. Her skin grew chalky and cold, and Emilia had to pull herself away forcefully lest she accidentally kill the guard.


    ¡°Now, hear me Georgia. We escaped after we broke your arm. Give us the security access we need to use your computer system and inform your supervisors that we escaped and are different women¡­¡± Emilia issued the same commands as before, only this time backed by an intense degree of power. The woman, Georgia, could muster no resistance to Emilia¡¯s power now.


    Emilia¡¯s body shook as tears rolled from her cheeks. ¡°She¡¯s a mother of three. One of her kids, he¡¯s special needs¡­¡±


    Cary grabbed Emilia and held her close. The girl¡¯s power ebbed and flowed wildly in its effects. Sometimes the magic gave her nothing more than a nauseous sense and did not even steal the strength she¡¯d intended to. And sometimes, it melded her mind with her victim¡¯s. In the brief contact between Emilia and Georgia, she¡¯d likely experienced vast swaths of Georgia¡¯s life. It was, in that regard, not unlike the Memory Sharing Cary benefited from by binding Emilia to her as a mortal servant. The main difference was that Cary could control the transfer of memories, and her own eidetic recollection allowed her to sift through Emilia¡¯s memories as if she had an index before her. Emilia had no such luxury.


    Through sobs, she directed Cary through the process of navigating security¡¯s labyrinthine computer system. They altered their ticket to use the secondary aliases Papa Butch had concocted for them and scrubbed the facial recognition elements associated with their faces.


    After they cleaned the room of their fingerprints, relying on Cary¡¯s memory of everywhere they touched, the two women paused. Emilia turned her back to the scene of the three guards disabled in their offices. Georgia had soiled herself against the wall and her throat creaked as if she wept, but Emilia¡¯s compulsion prevented her from emitting more than a small noise.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± Cary used no terms of endearment for Emilia there, it would have spoiled them later.


    Back amongst the sea of mortals, Emilia leaned into Cary for reasons other than lascivious desire. Now, Cary supported Emilia with her size and weight, like the column Cary had been in another life. For the first time in ten thousand years, she did not resent supporting someone or something. She certainly resented the need.


    Knowing Emilia¡¯s desire for sweets, Cary stopped and used some of her fake money to purchase cinnamon buns topped with icing for Emilia. Considering only a moment, Cary bought one for herself as well. The vicarious pleasure of watching Emilia consume the treat was nothing compared to the fine spices added to the food.


    Emilia poked at her cinnamon bun while Cary ripped at the edges, dipped the breading in icing, and stuffed huge gouges into her mouth. After a few bites, Emilia glanced up at Cary and her eyes widened in horror. It was the first look other than despondency Emilia had worn.


    ¡°How¡­ you have frosting and cinnamon all over your face!¡± The shock written across Emilia¡¯s face looked out of place to Cary, who shrugged and continued to devour her bun.


    ¡°You do not understand. For¡­¡± she had to perform a bit of mental math, ¡°about sixteen hundred years after the discovery of cinnamon, it was worth more than its weight in gold. Kingdoms battled kingdom, and men were put to the torch over this spice.¡± Cary motioned to a little boy a few tables away whose hands and mouth bore almost as much icing and sticky spice as her own. ¡°Now you eat the wages of royalty as a snack between flying through the skies. I wish to indulge.¡±


    ¡°No. I mean you¡¯ve made a mess!¡±


    Cary smiled now. Though unintentional, she¡¯d drawn Emilia out of her self-loathing. ¡°So? I would rub myself down with both this icing and this cinnamon filling if given a chance.¡± She glanced around and recalled Emilia¡¯s sensibilities. ¡°In private, of course.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re pretty weird.¡±


    ¡°I prefer ¡®unique,¡¯ but thank you.¡± Cary bowed and ripped another piece from her cinnamon bun. She glanced over at the little boy nearby and he waved with sauce-covered hands at her, flexing his digits as if trying to catch something. Cary cocked her head to the right and gave him a thumb¡¯s up. It felt like the proper response to the tiny human.


    Emilia began sobbing and laughing at the same time, with a strange hiccuping pattern. She grabbed Cary¡¯s hand and they retreated to the bathrooms, Emilia holding their handbags and the plastic sack with their treats in one hand and Cary¡¯s hand in the other.


    Still sobbing, she used a paper towel to wash off Cary¡¯s face and hands, with the occasional spat of giggling in between. ¡°You did this for me?¡±


    Cary shook her head. ¡°Not on purpose. I bought the dessert hoping it would cheer you up, but I did not make a mess of myself to that end.¡±


    ¡°Of course not, this is just¡­ you.¡± With Cary¡¯s face clean, Emilia lowered her head and brought her forehead onto Cary¡¯s chest. ¡°I didn¡¯t like what happened in the guard¡¯s room. I¡­ what I did was too much like Samantha.¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Cary put her hands on Emilia¡¯s shoulders and pressed her own head down on the top of Emilia¡¯s. The universe had acted to ensure that Cary stood tall enough compared to Emilia to perform this movement without discomfort for either of them. ¡°Samantha did what she did out of avarice and pride. Like my own master, she enjoyed controlling others. You did it to protect us both. And to protect those guards if we¡¯re being honest.¡±


    Emilia looked up into Cary¡¯s eyes. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡± this would not make things better, but Cary had grown tired of lying to Emilia about her own nature. ¡°I would have killed all three of them to escape that place. With your methods, they survived.¡±


    As expected, Emilia stepped away from her. ¡°I wish¡­¡±


    ¡°I know.¡± Cary didn¡¯t want to hear it again. After Samantha¡¯s death, Emilia had horrible nightmares, nightmares Cary shared after touching her. Contrary to Cary¡¯s own expectations, these nightmares had not involved Emilia being re-victimized at Samantha¡¯s hands. Rather they involved Emilia becoming Samantha, controlling and murdering those around her with little regard to their safety or choices. In a way, it increased Cary¡¯s esteem for the woman. In another way, it struck a chord of terror in Cary¡¯s heart.


    A beat went by while those thoughts blazed through Cary¡¯s mind. Emilia sagged again and laid her head in Cary¡¯s chest. ¡°I am sorry.¡±


    ¡°As am I. I do not wish for you to act counter to your nature. And I have difficulty acting counter to my own.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re still a pair of horrendous messes, aren¡¯t we?¡± Looking up into Cary¡¯s eyes, Emilia stared into her, as if the woman could reverse the bond between them and peer into Cary¡¯s millennia-long history.


    ¡°Perhaps. We would be far better off if others would stop messing us up.¡±


    Emilia snorted. ¡°Messing with us works better there.¡± She rose on her tip-toes and closed her eyes, extending her lips to meet with Cary¡¯s.


    ¡°Is this not, ¡®public¡¯ and thus an unfit locale for such activities?¡± Cary quirked an eyebrow up while Emilia rolled her eyes.


    ¡°Shut up and kiss me, demon. It will make us both feel better.¡±


    They did and it worked.

 Chapter 2 Emilia - Sandra

    ¡°Sandra Smith.¡± Emilia felt like a rube handing out such an obvious fake name. Sure, there had to be a real Sandra Smith out there. In fact, there were probably thousands. When they told people their names, they didn¡¯t have to hand over a blank piece of paper and trust to the enchantment in the fibers to ensure people believed them. They probably just used their IDs.


    Cary walked behind Emilia down the tunnel to the airplane. Watching Cary struggle to decide whether walking in front of or behind of Emilia protected her more amused Emilia endlessly. The demon¡¯s foibles took Emilia¡¯s mind off of Georgia Kennedy¡¯s memories as they swirled about Emilia¡¯s mind.


    As soon as she thought about it, Emilia cursed herself. For all the good crying and kissing Cary in the bathroom had done, Emilia had reinvoked the cause of her distress all over again. She grabbed Cary¡¯s hand before her and found the small contact profoundly reassuring. Before the presence of another woman¡¯s thoughts overwhelmed Emilia and drove her into a new panic, Cary¡¯s warm skin provided a shield against the dark thoughts.


    At least we didn¡¯t kill them.


    It was a small comfort. Neither Samantha nor Cynthia had killed their victims. And in a sad way, Emilia wished they had. Dead, Emilia wouldn¡¯t be standing there broken, regretting taking away another woman¡¯s free will.


    She shook herself at the blast of air from further down the tunnel blew away not just the dried sweat from trekking over the airport all afternoon but the encounter in the guard offices as well. All that remained was the low beat of Georgia¡¯s concern for her son Timothy.


    Emilia squeezed Cary¡¯s hand as they headed into First Class. This was her only time on an airplane and she¡¯d finagled her way into First Class. If the shows were to be believed, this part of the plane would be filled with strippers and candy. According to Betsy, Max, and Regina the First Class cabins were not nearly as extravagant as television made them out to be. But there might be alcohol and the food was supposed to be better.


    Flashing her blank sheet of paper again at a flight attendant, Emilia was directed over to a set of stairs. The idea that planes had two levels blew Emilia¡¯s mind for a moment. This was something the shows never depicted. Her friends had left this part out too.


    Cary and Emilia passed a full bar, with tall bottles of liquor standing behind little cases, prepared for liftoff. The attendant flashed them a wide grin as he motioned to their seats.


    The seats were ridiculous. These were larger than the bed Emilia slept in most of her life. Aside from Cary, who sat on the aisle seat, their nearest neighbor was situated far enough away that the chairs could lay all of the way down.


    ¡°This is¡­. Nuts!¡± Once again, shock drove all thought of Georgia out of Emilia¡¯s mind until she¡¯d sat down and remarked on the absence. In time with her outburst, she lowered her head and stared at the ground. They had an amazing amount of leg room.


    ¡°I have never been aboard a plane, so I do not have a yardstick against which to measure this experience.¡± Cary tapped at the armrest separating their seats, as if the object¡¯s mere existence offended her.


    Emilia felt around the rest and pulled it up. Once it was out of the way, she flopped her head down into Cary¡¯s lap. ¡°How do you deal with it?¡±


    Cary tilted her head. ¡°After time, the new experiences¡­ merge together. It becomes harder and harder for the novel to shock me.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Emilia waved her hands. ¡°I mean the intrusion of other people¡¯s thoughts in your head. The knowledge you can¡­ do things to them.¡±


    Stilling her whole body except for the fingers stroking Emilia¡¯s head, Cary stared down at Emilia as if looking through her. ¡°Some demons react with disdain for all life that is not theirs.¡± Waving her hand, Cary clarified. ¡°I do not mean their own lives, or rather not merely their own lives. But their property as well. And some demons find a principle to which they devote themselves. Others lose themselves in their jobs, their assigned tasks.¡±


    Wistful, that described how Cary said the last sentence. ¡°That¡¯s what you did, right?¡±


    Cary nodded. ¡°Indeed. I devoted myself to become a perfect little recording device for my master. My mind became a stone tablet and my senses the chisel. In part this was a survival mechanism, in part it was the result of my master¡¯s training. I did not wish to offend him in the slightest.


    ¡°I am sorry. My problems must seem¡­¡±


    Cary laid a gentle finger on Emilia¡¯s lips. ¡°Your problems have become among the most important things in the world to me. Perhaps the most important consideration in my life. Do not apologize for that.¡± Not removing her finger, Cary continued after a pause. ¡°You are still upset about the guards. Have you tried the mental exercises¡­ Papa Butch taught you?¡±


    The way she said it, Cary didn¡¯t say ¡®the ones I taught you,¡¯ which Emilia appreciated. Knowing she ignored part of Cary¡¯s lessons made her feel guilty enough. Wallowing in a problem that those lessons could aid with would have made it ten times worse. ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Then you should.¡± Cary looked around the cabin to see that only one other person occupied First Class with them. ¡°You are as safe here as you could possibly be.¡±


    ¡°Because you¡¯re watching over me.¡± It wasn¡¯t a question. Emilia believed it now with her whole heart. Cary had come for her after Emilia had done everything she could to ruin whatever spark had grown between them. Over the last four weeks, Cary had devoted herself to demonstrating her feelings to Emilia, and Emilia had committed herself to accepting Cary¡¯s affection. It had worked, though Emilia had set firm boundaries for them both.


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    ¡°Okay. But you can¡¯t keep petting my head.¡±


    Cary sighed and held her hand still on Emilia¡¯s head for a moment. Her jaw wiggled back and forth as if she conducted an argument with herself. It made her look adorable to Emilia. Clenching her jaw, the battle field closed itself off and Cary nodded. ¡°Okay, but I would like to leave my hand in place, may I?¡±


    Emilia nodded. She had a feeling that the servant-demon relationship did not work this way for other humans who¡¯d bound themselves to demons. If not for Cary¡¯s former master, maybe Cary would have been some kind of ruthless tyrant. Occasionally that side of Cary came out, but always directed to people who threatened or endangered Emilia. Which could include Emilia herself. ¡°Thank you, please.¡±


    Cary¡¯s whole body relaxed, letting out a tension Emilia hadn¡¯t noticed until then.


    Closing her eyes, Emilia relaxed into Cary¡¯s lap and enjoyed the spicy scent of the demoness. The warmth of her wrapped itself around Emilia like a blanket and she shut out her thoughts. Emilia banished each idea as it presented itself, using the silly rhyme Papa Butch had taught her, ¡°hey there thought, you are for naught!¡± It was dumb and childlike, but it worked. Mundane and meta-thoughts vanished under the storybook words until Emilia faced off with the memory of stealing the wills from the three guards.


    The first two, Mack and Noah, had been simple. Her instructions to them were the same and as non-intrusive as they could be. Dismissing the recollection of those two took two repetitions of her magic charm.


    But with Georgia, Emilia found someone who possessed a seed of her magic, magic Georgia didn¡¯t realized she had. With so little experience in these matters, Emilia could not say which of the various talents Georgia possessed, but it imparted a resistance to mental manipulation onto the woman.


    As a result, Emilia had to invoke her own natural ability, one she¡¯d struggled to gain the least control over in the last four weeks. If not for Papa Butch and Cary¡¯s constant drilling, Emilia would not have been able to use her mind manipulation magic on Georgia. But the side effect was that Emilia absorbed a portion of Georgia¡¯s life essence. It left an aftertaste on Emilia¡¯s tongue: linden and boysenberries. As a result of suffering under Emilia¡¯s power, poor Georgia might grow ill or feel fatigued for a few days. The fact left Emilia with a sour feeling in her stomach.


    No matter how many times she directed Papa Butch¡¯s dismissal chant at Georgia and her memories, Emilia could not quite drive them all off. Different parts lingered: Timothy¡¯s troubles, the way his body twitched and he moaned when he tried to communicate. The sight tore at Emilia¡¯s heart, rending it with vicarious sympathy.


    Georgia¡¯s boyfriend was another, the way he¡¯d looked offended when Georgia had offered him an out over Timothy¡¯s condition. Her husband had fled over it, the weak bastard. But Leonard had stayed. He helped clean Timothy up when his body failed him, he bussed him back and forth between school and the clinic. Georgia loved that man with her whole soul, almost as much as her son. And like the former, she¡¯d lost sleep, staying up at night in livid terror that he might leave her.


    No matter how hard she concentrated, no matter how many times Emilia chanted her words at the memories, she couldn¡¯t banish the sensations and experiences of Georgia. Tears gathered in the corners of Emilia¡¯s eyes as a few more people entered the First Class cabin. She tracked them with her hearing, listening to those people move, shift their luggage, and buckle their seatbelts gave Emilia a blessed distraction from the foreign impressions which invaded her mind.


    One of the people who walked into the cabin had an obvious breathing problem. They wheezed as they walked about trying to find their seat and place their carry on in the overhead rack. Another person¡­ Emilia gasped. For a second, she¡¯d heard one of their heartbeats. Maybe she¡¯d imagined it. Stilling her breath, Emilia strained her ears and definitely picked out a rhythmic thumping from one of the passengers. Then she heard a similar beat from the two nearest passengers, including the wheezing man, who¡¯d taken a puff of some kind of medicine as he¡¯d say down. As a result, his heartbeat shot up, almost half again as quick as when it started.


    Oddly, no such beat echoed from the center of Cary¡¯s chest. For a moment, Emilia considered the fact and decided that Cary¡¯s lack of a heartbeat was actually totally normal.


    ¡°Are you okay, Emilia?¡± Cary raced her hand and Emilia looked up at her. Had the demoness been reading her mind? In a way, Emilia liked the thought. In a way, it worried her.


    ¡°I¡­ think I can hear the heartbeats of the people around us.¡± Emilia let her voice go soft. ¡°Am I going insane?¡±


    ¡°No, but this is sooner than I would have expected.¡± Cary tapped her nose. ¡°Or your power compliments or synergies with my own and you¡¯ve developed quicker than anticipated. My hearing is excellent. I can track heartbeats in a place like this where there is very little ambient noise.¡±


    ¡°And I can too?¡±


    Cary licked her lips and tilted her head side to side. ¡°It¡¯s too early to say whether the effect is permanent or a result of our proximity. But considering how closely we are bonded, I would be surprised to learn you did not develop some of my natural abilities.¡±


    Emilia sniffed at the air, trying to find the complexity Cary often reported to the air. All she picked up was a bit of rank, reprocess mold and nothing else. Apparently the effect only extended to her hearing. When Emilia looked over at Cary, she¡¯d raised her eyebrow at Emilia. ¡°I was trying to sniff out people like you do.¡±


    ¡°You are absolutely adorable!¡± That earned Emilia one of Cary¡¯s rare outburst of laughter. The way she tilted her head back and gave a throaty burst of joy warmed Emilia¡¯s chest. Cary shook her head for a moment and said, ¡°but do not let my amusement or embarrassment stop you from experimentation. There are other abilities you could gain from our link. As time goes on, I expect the variety and power to grow.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m surprised demons would be so willing to share their power like this.¡±


    ¡°Indeed. Many demons are not so willing to share their abilities with even the greatest of their servants. If I exerted my will or attempted to block off aspects of my power from you, you would not gain them.¡± Cary answered as if what she¡¯d done were nothing but the rational course of action.


    ¡°Does it weaken you?¡±


    ¡°Not really.¡± Cary waggled her finger back and forth. ¡°Or perhaps I should say no. While I might experience an infinitesimal loss of power, what I gain from the link more than makes up for it. Especially with someone like you who brings her own power to the bond.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s so much to learn! I feel like I won¡¯t have time for it.¡±


    Cary grinned and tapped Emilia¡¯s nose in triumph. ¡°Now that is where the bond comes in especially handy. You will not age from now on and you will not die from natural causes. Barring misadventure we have limitless time to explore and grow. That is a part of the bond that even the most avaricious demons cannot deny their servants.¡±


    Cary flushed at the word, which only made Emilia grin back at her. Emilia didn¡¯t feel like Cary¡¯s servant, because Cary never ordered her around or treated her like her servant. Maybe someone else would have been waiting for the other shoe to drop, but in Emilia¡¯s case, she worried more over Cary leaving than over her changing her treatment of Cary.


    A flight attendant interrupted Emilia¡¯s further auditory explorations of the plane. She could hear the woman¡¯s approach from the soft thump of her heels against the thing carpet of the plane¡¯s interior. She made them both buckle their seatbelts and then led the cabin in an elaborate pantomime of the safety process. Since she couldn¡¯t rest her head on Cary¡¯s lap, Emilia leaned over and planted herself firmly on Cary¡¯s shoulder.


    Emilia fell asleep before the safety demonstration ended.

 Chapter 3 Cary - Attack

    Cary felt Emilia¡¯s body slow down and enter a peaceful slumber. It came on rather suddenly while the attendant droned on over useless safety information. If the plane exploded, Cary did not expect anyone to survive, not even her or Emilia. She knew the spells needed to protect them, but Emilia did not. And Cary would not have the time needed to teach them to her apprentice.


    Once the attendant finished her lecture, she stopped by and offered Cary a pre-take off beverage. Their selection of alcohol was wide enough that a lesser person would have required a menu or index. Not so for Cary, who ordered a small glass of Scotch over ice. Her first experience with drinking never repeated itself, especially after Cary was certain to check her drink for adulterants.


    The Scotch tasted smooth and mellow as she sipped it down, the ice chilled the drink and gave it a sweet front flavor as she swirled it in her mouth. Papa Butch had taught her proper Scotch appreciation the night she¡¯d awakened after rescuing Emilia. The alcohol softened the blow of learning that Emilia had completed the sealing between them and made their bond permanent. Not that Cary minded, but rather she had intended for the event to occur under more auspicious circumstances. But Emilia had saved her life and that would have to be enough.


    She closed her eyes as she reviewed the last month. Most of her time had been devoted to teaching Papa Butch, Regina, and Emilia what she knew of magic, most of which followed Papa Butch¡¯s own informed questions.


    With her second glass of Scotch warming her belly, Cary leaned back for a short nap along with Emilia. She had just drifted off when the plane¡¯s engines roared to life. Cary came out of slumber with a start. This being her first time in a jet, she wanted to savor the full experience, even if filtered through the fumes of a mild whiskey drunk.


    Several other passengers slumbered with their seats reclined, but Cary ignored them as their plane taxied about the runway. This massive piece of steel and plastic had far too much mass for it to takeoff, at least Cary thought so.


    She stared out the window imagining the forces required to lift the plane. As she did, Cary spotted a four-wheel drive jeep, the kind Emilia¡¯s memory informed her often belonged to the military, drive up to the concourse and stop in the distance.


    From here, Cary could make out four people in the jeep, all of whom got out as the lead passenger donned binoculars and used them to zoom in on her plane. The airs on the back of Cary¡¯s neck rose. After the confrontation with security, Cary did not imagine for an instant that such scrutiny was normal or unrelated to her or Emilia¡¯s presence on the plane.


    At this distance, Cary could not read the figures¡¯ lips as they conversed, but they clearly marked out her plane and focused their attention on it. Itching with an urge to escape the steel trap and chase down her observers, Cary grabbed the armrest at the end of the aisle. If the figures produced a weapon, Cary would try to charge from the jet and murder those strange men.


    But before either outcome came to pass, the plane¡¯s engines assumed a power and activity that overwhelmed Cary¡¯s ears and surged the whole impossible mass forward. Inertia pulled her body back into her plush seat as the plane jetted forward. The jeep and its passengers faded from view as the plane¡¯s wheels left the tarmac and, for the first time in her life, Cary flew as a passenger in a plane.


    She¡¯d been cargo the other times she¡¯d flown, the experience nothing more interesting than a shipping truck. Without the visual reference and with layers of packing material between her and the plane¡¯s exterior, Cary had missed out. The horizon dipped out of view as the great beast of an aircraft ascended.


    Lacking her own wings and the ability to shift as her species intended, Cary would never enjoy this experience without mechanical assistance. A bittersweet joy filled her chest, heightened by the touch of Emilia¡¯s head on Cary¡¯s shoulder. Though her mind recorded all events with equal accuracy, Cary shifted imaginary lens over her eyes and amplifying cones over her ears. She wanted to pick up every possible sensation, from the shudder in her core to the creak of the plane¡¯s rivets as she reached into the air.


    As the acceleration faded, for the briefest shining bright moment, all weight dropped from Cary and she hung suspended in the air. Cary blinked tears out of her eyes as the plane leveled off and its arc flattened. Minutes passed by while Cary waited for the sensation to repeat, but nothing happened.


    Beside her, Emilia stirred. She rubbed her eyes and looked around. ¡°Did I sleep through taking off?¡±


    Cary smiled and patted her leg. ¡°You did. How was your nap?¡±


    Emilia yawned and stretched as much as she could. ¡°It was actually pretty nice. But now I have to use the bathroom. Stand up and let me out?¡±


    After the figures in the jeep, Cary refused to let Emilia leave on her own. She didn¡¯t follow her into the bathroom, but she did stand outside the door and watch for anyone who might have intended Emilia harm.


    No gazes from the other passengers lingered on the two women as they walked through the plane, and Cary paid special attention to those passengers. Most of the others kept their noses buried in books or hovering over their own beverages. A few, like Emilia, had passed out and still slept after takeoff.


    When they returned to their seats, Emilia pulled Cary over into her seat. ¡°This is sufficiently private for me, kiss me demon.¡±


    Breath flared in her chest, Cary greedily complied with her servant¡¯s impertinent demand. Seconds flowed into minutes as they savored each other¡¯s lips. Cary¡¯s hand strayed to Emilia¡¯s chest, following Cary¡¯s unconscious desires.


    Rather than stop her, Emilia pressed herself into Cary¡¯s hand. When she realized what she¡¯d done and the way Emilia hadn¡¯t pulled away, Cary purred into her lover¡¯s mouth. Boundaries Emilia had set barred this sort of ¡°heavy petting¡± but apparently, at least some of those rules did not count when thousands of feet in the air.


    A flight attendant passed by them, but moved on without disturbing the two women. They were quiet. Emilia would have been uncomfortable if she¡¯d become aware of the attendant¡¯s notice. Cary did not want to pause their motions for fear Emilia would stop them. Aware of the way she danced on the border of appropriate public behavior, Cary kept her hand over Emilia¡¯s clothing.


    By demonic standards, Emilia¡¯s breasts were tiny. Temptresses almost always possessed massive endowments, as if to draw the eye and lusts of men and women at a mere glance. And Cary had experienced the allure of such assets even before she¡¯d been enslaved by Elelele. But now, thousands of years later, she found herself satisfied by Emilia¡¯s boyish chest. Maturity and reason informed her that Cary¡¯s interests had more to do with the person than the flesh. Though she resisted admitting her feeling to Emilia, she loved the mortal and her body. Before she had met Emilia, she would have considered her chest a ¡°flaw¡± but now Cary felt it nothing more than the right and proper shape of Emilia.


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    ¡°Okay, now we have to stop.¡± Emilia pulled away with her face and neck flushed from excitement.


    Cary released her, but answered with a low rumble. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Because I¡¯m¡­¡± Searching the cabin with her eyes, Emilia whispered, ¡°wet¡±


    The word brought out a primal lust in Cary who¡¯s eyes flicked down to the space between Emilia¡¯s legs and back to her own. ¡°Good, that is the point. I am wet and ready myself.¡±


    Emilia gave Cary a light shove. ¡°Lower your voice. And while yes¡­ this might be the natural outcome¡­ I don¡¯t want to be¡­ like this for the rest of the flight. It¡¯s uncomfortable.¡±


    Frowning, Cary sighed. ¡°Were that I could break you of this odd modesty. You would enjoy making love while this jet rumbled beneath you, I think.¡±


    Cary sat back in her chair, fighting off the urge to pout. She had grown aroused too and did not wish to stop unsatisfied. But the courting rituals of Emilia¡¯s society basically insisted on it. As if some fanatical denial cult had taken over the ages ago and spread their disgusting hatred of intimacy to every part of the globe. It made Cary pity the mortals.


    ¡°Don¡¯t be like that.¡± Emilia put her hand on Cary¡¯s. ¡°I don¡¯t want to tease you and put you off¡­ but I¡¯ve never¡­ you know.¡±


    Cary smiled. She¡¯d been through Emilia¡¯s memory in this regard extensively. The young woman had only touched herself once before she¡¯d stopped. Among demons such deprivation bordered on the perverse. If Cary mentioned that to Emilia, the young woman it would have offended her. But in a way, Emilia was more virginal than most. And Cary¡¯s base instincts yearned to despoil her purity. Instead she lied. ¡°It is okay. I do not mind being teased.¡±


    ¡°Liar.¡± Emilia poked her in the nose and squinted at Cary. ¡°I can see it in your eyes, the way you stare at me sometimes. You¡¯d jump my bones at the first opportunity if I let you.¡± A thought built behind Emilia¡¯s sudden serious gaze. ¡°Thank you for not taking advantage of me, of the servant bond.¡±


    Cary felt sickened at the thought. ¡°I would never. El¡­¡± Cary sucked in a breath. In more than a month, she hadn¡¯t come so close to speaking his name. ¡°My master ¡®took advantage of me¡¯ as you say in more ways than I care to relate. I would never do such a thing to another.¡±


    ¡°Gods, that¡¯s terrible!¡±


    Waving Emilia¡¯s concern away, Cary said, ¡°I do not wish to speak of it at length. Or to think on it for that matter. I never intend to return to him, nor will I ever become him by reflection.¡± She took Emilia¡¯s chin between her fingers. ¡°I tell you truly, Emilia Olren, I await the time when you give yourself to me wholly with great anticipation. The delay only heightens my longing.¡± Cary punctuated her declaration by brushing her lips across Emilia¡¯s.


    Her gasp did little to cover the soft tread of footsteps in the aisle behind them. The feet who trod near hesitated, the heartbeat and breathing off to Cary¡¯s finely tuned ears. Combined with the clank of a piece of metal coming from the intruder¡¯s pocket, those signals put Cary on full alert. She did not take time to thank the Fates for tuning up her senses to enjoy her first flight and her dalliance with Emilia.


    Cary shoved Emilia back to her seat, shielding her with her own body. As she turned to face their attacker, Cary shifted her body into stone. A soft puff of air preceded a plink against Cary¡¯s body as a small dart struck her where she¡¯d covered Emilia¡¯s body. The woman who looked down on them wore one of the flight attendant¡¯s uniforms, and a glazed expression over her face.


    She dropped her weapon as her vision lost focused and she looked around herself. Before the woman could fully recover, Cary darted forward, found her seatbelt restraining her, released it, and snatched the weapon from where the woman had dropped it.


    ¡°What happened?¡± Cary grabbed Emilia¡¯s hand and squeezed it in a silent signal to stay quiet for now as the flight attendant grabbed her head and started to swoon. Shoving the dart and ejector into her purse, Cary stayed in place, with her body physically blocking attacks against Emilia while another attendant rushed to the aid of their attacker.


    ¡°Check the woman¡¯s aura. Quickly before she leaves.¡± Cary directed her words to Emilia, who steadied her breathing while the second attendant led the first away. None of the other passengers so much as noticed the disturbance.


    ¡°Shit. There¡¯s magic all over the place, Cary.¡± Emilia¡¯s voice sounded strained. ¡°That woman was definitely affected by something.¡±


    Cary stood up and dragged Emilia after her. This would make an important learning experience and they needed to try and catch their pursuers. Unlike from the guard intervention, this was a direct attack. After Samantha, Cary did not intend to let them continue to prod her defenses while striking from the shadows.


    Scanning the faces of the other passengers, none of them paid much attention to the two women. The second attendant, the one who¡¯d escorted the ensorcelled woman away started to close a set of curtains. ¡°Excuse me, but passengers are not allowed past this point.¡±


    Cary cleared her throat and raised her magic paper. ¡°My companion and I are certified emergency care personnel. It looked as though that woman took ill.¡±


    The attendant cocked her head at the page, but nodded. ¡°Okay, thank you doctors.¡±


    Emilia flicked her eyes to the side as the attendant let them through the curtains. The woman who had attacked them lay upon a fold-up chair chair, breathing uneasily.


    ¡°Hello, can we help you? Cary modulated her voice with delicate control. She didn¡¯t want to alert the other attendant, but she needed to be prepared for any lingering effects of the control spell used to manipulate the woman.


    ¡°Oh, I just feel exhausted all of the sudden.¡± The attendant¡¯s voice sounded faint as she tried to brush the two off.


    Emilia stepped forward as if they had rehearsed this ploy. ¡°Just let me check your pulse and a few other things, okay?¡± She put her fingers on the woman¡¯s wrist and acted as if counting while she closed her eyes where the second attendant wouldn¡¯t notice. After a moment¡¯s pause, she then checked the woman¡¯s eyes and forehead. As far as Cary was concerned, the performance was effective. It set the second attendant at ease.


    Nodding as if she¡¯d found what she expected, Emilia said, ¡°It looks like you¡¯re just overworked. Grab yourself some orange juice and maybe a bagel if you can. If you still feel sick in an hour, please come get us.¡±


    The attendant grinned at Emilia¡¯s reassurance. ¡°You¡¯re so young to be doctors.¡±


    Emilia winked. ¡°Douglas Howard doesn¡¯t have nothing on us.¡± She grabbed the woman¡¯s hands. ¡°Promise you¡¯ll come get us if you still feel sick in an hour?¡±


    ¡°Oh yes, thank you ladies. I mean doctors.¡±


    Emilia dragged Cary back to their seats with haste. Her skin shown red, almost as red as when they¡¯d been petting before. ¡°We just broke so many laws. Holy shit!¡± She kept her voice low to keep from alerting the other passengers to their deception.


    ¡°What did you discover?¡±


    ¡°She was definitely be-spelled. And I could be wrong, but it was recent, as in someone aboard the plane had to have done it.¡±


    ¡°Shit.¡±


    Emilia nodded at Cary¡¯s profanity. ¡°Right, shit.¡±


    ¡°Do you know what the effect was?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know the name, but it¡¯s like the thing Papa Butch used on you to push me out of the way¡­ you know.¡± Cary nodded. Emilia referred to their assault upon Samantha¡¯s fortress demiplane. ¡°Only I don¡¯t think there was a talisman involved. That¡¯s why I think it was recent. Very recent. Possibly spread by touch.¡±


    ¡°Then someone aboard the plane both knows we are here and is trying to¡­ either capture or kill us.¡± Cary dug in her bag for the dart and its firing device. ¡°The next thing I want you to do is analyze this device and the possible toxin within. I want to know if its lethal or otherwise.¡±


    Emilia picked up the ejector gun and closed her eyes as she rested it in her hands. Scanning her eyes around the room, Cary grabbed a blanket from the overhead bin and laid it over Emilia¡¯s front. If someone noticed the weapon in Emilia¡¯s lap, they would have more problems and Cary didn¡¯t want to force Emilia have to tap into the minds of those strangers.


    After a few minutes of concentration, Emilia opened her eyes. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Cary, I can¡¯t tell what this stuff is. Magic?¡±


    Cary snorted at Emilia¡¯s answer. ¡°If it was anything else, I would be shocked to my core. But don¡¯t worry about it for now.¡± Opening her bag, Cary shifted the ejector into it and snapped it shut. ¡°For now, we both need to be on full alert. Whoever sent the attendant after us won¡¯t stop with a single failed attempt.¡±


    Emilia sighed and rocked her head back into the seat. ¡°I¡¯d like to say my life hasn¡¯t always been like this, but that would be a huge lie.¡±


    ¡°Then it¡¯s a good thing you have gotten used to it, no?¡± Cary shut her eyes and leaned her head back in a mirror of Emilia. Despite the position, Cary remained awake and alert, awaiting the next disaster.

 Chapter 4 Emilia - Doctor, doctor

    Too much excitement in too short a time. It had been less than four hours since she¡¯d mind controlled the TSA guards. For Emilia, most of her excitement had come by way of pain. In a way, this was a welcome change: people trying to detain her. In another way, this was just more of the same. She¡¯d taken a short nap during liftoff, but after the near-darting and pretending to be a doctor, Emilia was too keyed up to sleep.


    She passed as much time as she could watching old movies on the screen in front of her chair. Cary had given up her fake slumber, so she watched the shows too. And in a way, Cary was more interesting than the figures dancing over the monitor.


    Cary studied the movies like one might study a documentary, or animals in the wild. She didn¡¯t take notes, that would have been too weird even for Cary. But her eyes never left the film and she mouthed the words as if feeling their shape with her lips.


    That image sent Emilia to an awkward mental place. She shook her head and tried to relax back into her chair. The wired energy never quite dissipated from her, so she stood up to use the restroom. Standing up to follow her, Emilia pushed Cary back into her seat. ¡°Watch your movie like a good girl and let me pee in peace. I promise I will yell real loud if someone jumps me.¡±


    A look of displeasure darkened Cary¡¯s face, but she didn¡¯t insist or even try to argue. She just nodded once and resumed watching her show. Only one earphone hung from Cary¡¯s ear, as if she monitored the rest of the plane with her unburdened ear. It made sense to Emilia based, Cary probably was doing exactly that.


    The trip to the restroom was a short one. This time Emilia watched the other passengers with interest. One of them had lain a powerful magic over the flight attendant. Emilia hadn¡¯t mentioned it, but she¡¯d surreptitiously laid a counter-enchant on the same attendant. The woman didn¡¯t deserve to have her mind messed with again. Not that Emilia had much faith in such magics. They definitely were not her specialty.


    As she made her way back to her seat, Emilia noticed a woman holding her belly and breathing through pursed lips. She looked strained and upset; Emilia assumed the woman was nervous about flying. With so few other passengers in First Class, Emilia surprised herself by failing to notice earlier. The seat next to the woman was empty at the time, but based on the blanket next to her, someone must have occupied that seat. Maybe he or she was in the restroom or walking around? Emilia put the thought out of mind and returned to sit down next to Cary.


    As soon as Emilia returned, Cary surveyed her whole body, either checking out Emilia¡¯s hot bod, which made Emilia laugh internally, or more likely, checking for signs of injury. Patting Cary on the hand, Emilia whispered. ¡°No ninjas managed to jump me between the seat and the bathroom.¡±


    ¡°Why would you think ninjas are here?¡± Cary looked around with nervous apprehension. The scanning she¡¯d been doing before grew almost desperate as she searched for their invisible attackers.


    ¡°Because we can¡¯t see any, duh.¡± Emilia giggled at her own joke, and then giggled harder as Cary seemed to take Emilia completely seriously. Before she stood up, Emilia grabbed Cary¡¯s hand. ¡°I am just teasing, no one is after me. That I could see.¡±


    ¡°Someone is certainly after you. There is no question of this.¡±


    ¡°I mean I didn¡¯t see anything suspicious, oh my paranoid paramour.¡±


    Cary smiled at the sobriquet, which was a word Emilia had looked up just hat morning. They watched the rest of the current film and two more in silence while Emilia tried to find a way to slip ¡°sobriquet¡± naturallyinto their conversation.


    At the end of the third film of the flight, a different flight attendant walked up to their seats with a worried look on her face.


    Emilia¡¯s stomach flipped as the stewardess leaned down and lowered her voice. ¡°Doctors, the pilot requests your assistance in the crew area.¡±


    Shit. Emilia smiled and bit her lip. Cary had already started to shake her head, but Emilia knew that wouldn¡¯t fly from the look on the attendant¡¯s face. ¡°We¡¯ll be right there,¡± Emilia scanned the woman¡¯s name tag, ¡°Olivia.¡± She laid her hand on Cary¡¯s to let her demoness know not to say anything right then.


    ¡°Oh thank you both very much!¡± Olivia sped away toward the front of the aircraft, the discomfort in her shoulders faded as she walked off.


    A loud moaning sound greeted Emilia¡¯s ears and she knew in a flash what this was about. ¡°So what do you know about childbirth?¡±


    Cary¡¯s eyes popped open and she shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ve done a good deal of reading. Why?¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t you hear that? They¡¯re not torturing someone aboard the plane. I think that¡¯s someone in labor.¡± Color drained from Cary¡¯s face, which made Emilia pause in her movements. The demoness hadn¡¯t risen from her seat. ¡°Come on, we need to go help, or they¡¯re going to question our medical credentials.¡±


    Swallowing visibly, Cary nodded. Her face and neck were pale and her hand clammy where Emilia grabbed it. ¡°Okay. Let¡¯s¡­ hurry.¡±


    Back through the passenger cabin, Cary and Emilia knew their way toward the crew area already. The magically influenced flight attendant stood guard at a small door. She smiled when she spotted Cary and Emilia. ¡°Oh thank God! You two are here to help, right?¡±


    ¡°Right!¡± Cary blurted the word out while her gaze fixed itself on the door the woman guarded like a fiend or monster out of legend waited behind. ¡°We are doctors!¡± Flashing her black page with a stiff arm like her elbow had stopped working, Cary could not have made herself more awkward.


    Emilia slid up beside her. ¡°Right, is the mother to be in there?¡±


    The flight attendant tilted her head and nodded. ¡°These are the crew sleeping quarters. We wanted somewhere private.¡±


    Emilia brushed past Cary and snatched her hand from her side. Jerking Cary along turned the rest of the day on its head. To Emilia¡¯s complete surprise, Cary was reluctant to go into this room. Thankfully, she didn¡¯t put up more than a token resistance, otherwise Emilia would have been stuck there waiting or would have had to proceed on her own.


    Opening the door, Emilia found the woman from first class lying on her back with her knees up and panting. A man, her husband presumably, sat next to her, holding her hand. Cary paused again, and Emilia glanced back at her. Her eyes had gone huge and her cheeks looked ashen now. Swaying with the rhythm of the flight, Emilia realized that Cary was about to pass out.


    Rather than allow that to happen, Emilia pulled her close and hissed into Cary¡¯s ear. ¡°Holy fuck, get your shit together now! You¡¯re the one who¡¯s supposed to know what¡¯s going on here!¡±


    Swallowing, Cary looked around the room as if seeing the beige walls for the first time. ¡°I¡­ I think I can.¡±


    Emilia didn¡¯t know what that was supposed to mean, but then again, she wasn¡¯t going to get more from Cary. ¡°At least don¡¯t pass out on me¡­¡± Emilia pressed herself closer to Cary than she was comfortable with. ¡°I¡¯ll let you touch my breasts again if you¡¯re good.¡±


    Those words got Cary¡¯s attention, but she still hesitated, as if trying to decide if Emilia¡¯s promise was worth the trauma. After this particular disaster was over, assuming they survived it without being tossed off the plane, Emilia intended to ask Cary about whatever had happened there.


    The flight attendant and the husband both shot Emilia a questioning look, but Emilia brushed off their gazes. ¡°How many weeks along is she?¡±


    ¡°Thirty-six,¡± the husband cleared his throat and shook his head. ¡°Thirty-seven.¡±


    ¡°And her water broke?¡±


    He nodded, the tension in his eyes eased at Emilia¡¯s questions. If he found out that they¡¯d just covered the entirety of her medical knowledge, he would be hyperventilating into a paper bag. Emilia nudged Cary with her elbow, who shook her head and said, ¡°We need to examine her. Go ahead, Dr Smith. I will advise and observe.¡±


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    It Emilia a second to realize that Cary meant her. She smiled at the others and waved the frantic husband away. ¡°My name is Dr Sandra Smith. Call me Sandie.¡±


    The woman nodded at her. ¡°Freda. Awwooo!¡± her words devolved into a shout as Emilia retrieved her phone and set a timer. She didn¡¯t know how to use it or what the time meant, but there was one more thing she knew about pregnancy from the shows, how far apart the contractions were mattered.


    ¡°Breathe for me, Freda. Dr¡­¡± Emilia couldn¡¯t remember Cary¡¯s pseudonym in the heat of the moment, so she just mumbled, ¡°is going to consult with me while I examine you.¡±


    Cary looked more than happy to stand near the woman¡¯s head. ¡°When was the last time you ate something, Freda?¡± With the promise of more petting between them, Cary apparently made her choice about what she wanted. In a way, Emilia was honored. In another way, she was annoyed with Cary. When Freda screamed again, Emilia noted the time and called it out. She couldn¡¯t do anything with that information, but maybe Cary could.


    The demoness nodded at Emilia¡¯s number. ¡°Good. We need to check to see how dilated you are too, Freda. Is it okay if Dr Smith does that now?¡±


    Through puffing breaths, Freda shuddered out a ¡°yes, that¡¯s fine.¡±


    Emilia cocked her head at Cary but couldn¡¯t ask without alarming everyone in earshot.


    ¡°Check her cervix, use your fingers.¡± Emilia squeaked as Cary¡¯s voice sounded in her mind. She turned and found the demoness with her eyes closed, checking the woman¡¯s pulse. ¡°This is hard for me, please be quick.¡±


    ¡°How will I know?¡±


    ¡°If she is more than ten centimeters dilated, then she¡¯s having the baby soon.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s ten centimeters?¡± Emilia covered up their pause by slowly lowering herself to the floor by Freda¡¯s feet. She wore a billowy floral maternity dress made of swirling blues and reds.


    ¡°By all the dark fucking gods, about the length of both of your fingers stacked atop each other.¡±


    ¡°And I just¡­ shove my fingers up there?¡± Cary didn¡¯t respond to that question. She knew where the cervix was supposed to be. But she¡¯d never seen one outside of a sex-ed class in middle school. This was about to get awkward.


    As she slid checked Freda¡¯s state, she found what she¡¯d been looking for, shock filled her as her natural magic hopped to the two children in Freda¡¯s womb. She hopped again when Cary contacted her. ¡°Use your power to check the mother and children now. Sooner is better than later.¡±


    Emilia withdrew her hand and laid them both on Freda¡¯s belly, ¡°we¡¯re ten cents doctor.¡± With her attention directed to Freda, she said, ¡°I am just going to check to make sure your babies are facing the right direction, okay?¡±


    It made sense, and in the desperation, Emilia found another scrap of knowledge from Tv. She prayed to every god she knew that the kids would be head down, otherwise this could be bad. At the same time, Emilia delicately extended her awareness into Freda¡¯s body. She couldn¡¯t release her own talent, it would ravage both babies and Freda, but with focus, she could exclude the part of her that consumed and just use her senses.


    Both children were head down, she could feel them with her hands and from the brilliant sparks of life that flared out from both children. They were twin girls, but they were not quite ready to be born. Freda¡¯s blood pressure was high and her anxiety peeked, but other than that, she was as healthy as her two soon-to-be-borns.


    Emilia flushed at the knowledge that all three were healthy. ¡°Your twins are head down, good news Freda.¡± With her awareness extended into Freda, she felt the woman try to push in time with her contraction.


    ¡°The babies aren¡¯t quite ready yet, should she be pushing?¡±


    Cary didn¡¯t respond mentally to Emilia¡¯s question. She looked down at Freda instead and said, ¡°Freda. The contractions are a little too far apart right now. If you push too early, you could exhaust yourself. Dr Smith or I will let you know when it¡¯s time, okay?¡± Silently, Cary sent, ¡°if you can, give her some of your energy. Just a trickle so she doesn¡¯t panic. Can you do that?¡±


    Emilia nodded at Cary and focused on sending a bit of her power into Freda. Once again, the struggle was not sending the power, but withholding the part of her that wished to drain the life of everything around. As she imagined cool waters flowing from her hands into Freda¡¯s belly, the woman calmed right in time for another contraction. ¡°I didn¡¯t get the time on that one.¡±


    Emilia mentally chided herself over forgetting to keep the time, but Cary gave a time down to the seconds and added, ¡°we have still got a while before the main event.¡±


    As crude as Cary¡¯s metaphor was, Emilia couldn¡¯t spare a moment to ponder it. The woman going birth to twins demanded the entirety of Emilia¡¯s attention. Over the next few hours, several flight attendants made appearances in the room along with the pilot and co-pilot. Cary had to assure both men that the plan could continue on its scheduled flight for the time-being and that, at least so far, they didn¡¯t anticipate any further problems.


    Emilia focused on healing Freda, keeping her energy up and watching for the signs that would tell her she was ready. It happened without much preamble or warning. One minute Cary was shooing gawking flight attendants out of the room and the next, Freda screamed as her contractions grew more severe and closer together. Anything Cary could do to put distance between herself and the woman in labor, she did. Which meant Emilia was basically alone when she sensed it was time.


    ¡°Okay Freda.¡± Emilia positioned herself with a mess of towels and blankets nearby. ¡°At the next contraction, I want you to push push push for me, okay?¡±


    A second of deja-vu tried to steal Emilia¡¯s focus away, as if she could remember doing this a lifetime ago. She pushed that feeling away as Freda screamed and bore down. By now, she imagined the other passengers could hear Freda and knew that something was going on in the fore of the plane. None of that mattered in the moment.


    After only a few minutes and a handful of further contractions, she gave birth to a shrieking baby girl who didn¡¯t need any further assistance with shouting her displeasure and pain to the world. Emilia¡¯s throat sealed and she choked up at the sight of the little girl wriggling and squawking. But they were not done yet. Tying off the umbilical chord and setting the baby in her father¡¯s arms, swaddled in a blanket, Emlia braced for the next part.


    Rather than a placenta, the second baby came out next. Unlike her sister, this little girl was blue and hardly moved, though she was twitching. Careful not to alarm either mom or dad, Emilia wrapped the little girl in a blanket and rubbed her toes. At the same time, she probed the infant¡¯s body with her power. She wasn¡¯t dead, but she was dying slowly.


    Unwilling to let the child die in her arms, Emilia sent a surge of power into her, willing her to breath. Cary must have felt the disturbance in Emilia because she rested a hand on Emilia¡¯s shoulder. The moment their skin touched, power leapt between them. Emilia dipped a toe, the barest bit of flesh into the ocean of Cary¡¯s knowledge and wisdom. From that massive body of water, Emilia found the magic she sought.


    It should have been impossible, the very act of dipping into Cary¡¯s thoughts informed Emilia of this, but she found a spell that would not only preserve the baby¡¯s life, but would ensure she grew up healthy and strong. Tearing magical power from Cary as she did so, Emilia whispered the words of the magic over the baby girl.


    Nothing happened.


    Emilia¡¯s arms sagged and she prepared herself to admit her failure, her disgusting ruse to the new parents as the little girl¡¯s eyes opened. They were bright blue and bigger than Emilia had imagined. Rather than scream the way her sister had, the little girl just stared at Emilia, as if silently thanking her for saving her life.


    Before she knew it, Emilia had burst into tears, handed the baby off and found herself enclosed by a wall of flight attendants and concerned crew. To her complete surprise none of them had produced their cell phones to post the event online. She¡¯d ask Cary about that later. For her part, Cary escaped the room as fast as she could, flashing Emilia a thumbs up as ¡°Dr Smith¡± helped ensure the placenta arrived correctly and intact.


    Based on the encyclopedic information she¡¯d pulled from Cary, Freda was fine, the afterbirth was undamaged and nothing remained within Freda that would hurt her later. The new mother and father expressed their gratitude to Emilia over and over again, but she finally managed to escape herself.


    Now that she¡¯d escaped the flight attendants¡¯ cabin, Emilia noticed that her clothes were utterly stained and ruined. The flight attendant who¡¯s mind had been messed with, stopped Emilia before she returned to the back of the plane. For the first time Emilia noted her name: Jessie. ¡°Hey, Dr Smith. Do you need some fresh clothes? Did you bring anything in your carry-on?¡±


    ¡°No. I was just thinking about that. Is there anyway into the luggage area?¡±


    Jessie waved her off and motioned for Emilia to follow. Though she¡¯d protected Jessie from further mental intrusion, Emilia had been serious with Cary when she¡¯d said she didn¡¯t trust her magic in that regard. On full alert, Emilia agreed to follow Jessie to an area where the crew apparently kept their own carry-on luggage.


    ¡°After everything you¡¯ve done, the least I owe you are a pair of sweatpants and a tee-shirt. Is that okay?¡± Jessie held up a set of navy blue clothes with sports logos on the sides.


    Emilia sniffed at Jessie¡¯s offer. ¡°Sure, this will help. Thank you. Is there somewhere for me to change?¡± Jessie led her to a small changing room for the crew where Emilia stripped off her soiled shirt and pants. They were most likely unsalvageable, covered with Freda¡¯s blood and other fluids as they were. But for some reason, Emilia didn¡¯t want to toss them out. As if she¡¯d anticipated that, Jessie handed Emilia a plastic clothing bag.


    ¡°Those will get ripe if you don¡¯t clean them in a day or two, but this should keep the skink at bay for now.¡±


    Emilia snickered. During the delivery, she hadn¡¯t give a second thought to the state of her clothes. Now they seemed to matter more than anything, except for plumbing the mysteries of Cary¡¯s queasy stomach and refusal to share a room with a pair of newborns. ¡°Thank you so much, Jessie. I really appreciate it.¡±


    ¡°No, thank you, Dr Smith. You¡¯re a life-saver.¡± Jessie hugged her before Emilia couldn¡¯t escape. Honor and concern warred in Emilia¡¯s heart as she wondered if the flight attendant wasn¡¯t setting Emilia up for a surprise betrayal. But the dagger or needle never arrived. Jessie wept while she ushered Emilia off.


    They didn¡¯t pay for drinks or snacks for the rest of the flight.

 Chapter 5 Cary - Sanctum Sanctorum

    Emilia passed out with her head leaning against Cary¡¯s shoulder minutes after their pregnancy adventure. It was only Cary¡¯s second experience with childbirth and while it wasn¡¯t half as horrific as the demonic birthing she¡¯d been forced to witness and record, Cary found the whole matter¡­ distasteful. She didn¡¯t need her prodigious memory to know she had a phobia, but it wouldn¡¯t supply the word for her particular phobia. Rather than allow herself to dwell on either the birth or her mental malfunction, Cary devoted her attention to her surroundings.


    With her senses primed for approaching danger and Emilia snoring next to her, Cary found herself lulled into a paradoxical sense of peace. She¡¯d spent most of her multiple thousand years of life carefully watching the world go by around her, but she¡¯d never had a beautiful woman leaning on her shoulder while she did it. That had to be the source of her comfort.


    Freda and her husband ventured by Cary and Emilia¡¯s seats, but didn¡¯t linger when they saw Emilia sleeping. Cary¡¯s skin crawled at the sight of the two wrinkly infants, one in each parent¡¯s arms. But she managed a smile for both adults and sent them away with a promise to extend their gratitude to Emilia, ¡°Sandra¡± as soon as she woke. Cary suggested both parents follow Emilia¡¯s example as soon as they were able, but she suspected they were both too excited to manage it.


    After that brief visitation, Cary loaded up on snacks and drinks supplied by the flight crew and enjoyed the pampered treatment of minor heroes. Fortunately, the staff respected her request to avoid taking pictures of her or Emilia, so Cary did not have to become stern or cross with anyone.


    Hours slipped by while Cary occasionally sent her awareness into Emilia¡¯s body to make sure her servant was healthy and safe. The birth and healing had drained her of energy, but she was otherwise fine. Sleep and a meal would restore her when Emilia finally woke up. When she did, their flight had slipped out of the sun¡¯s grip a few hours before that.


    ¡°Did you sleep well?¡± Cary patted Emilia as her eyes fluttered open.


    ¡°Yeah, I had wild dreams about baby horses and kittens. Weird, huh?¡± Emilia nuzzled into Cary¡¯s neck, which sent shivers up into Cary¡¯s scalp and down into her lower back.


    ¡°Considering you just assisted with your first birth, no, I do not believe such dreams are especially wild.¡±


    ¡°Sometimes I think you might be immune to sarcasm.¡± Planting a kiss on the side of Cary¡¯s neck, Emilia poked her playfully in the cheek to punctuate her sentence.


    ¡°Not so, I enjoy playing the ¡®straight man,¡¯ or perhaps woman. Whatever phrase would be correct, I like it.¡±


    Emilia rolled her eyes and scooted past Cary to reach the restrooms. This time Cary followed Emilia. Too much had happened in too short a span for Cary to relax and let someone attack Emilia during their brief separation. Emilia offered no complaints over Cary¡¯s choices.


    No one jumped out and tried to subdue the two women. Based on the evidence, Cary believed their mysterious attacker had given up. Why, she could not say. Perhaps whoever it was did not wish to reveal themselves with too many attacks in too short a time. Perhaps they were waiting for Cary and Emilia to disembark from the plan in Armenia. Or their attacker simply did not have any further resources to bring to bear against them.


    Regardless of the cause, Cary felt certain the period of danger had elapsed. Calm rode along her shoulders as she held her palm against Emilia¡¯s lower back on their way to their seats. This level of contact in public did not activate Emilia¡¯s boundaries.


    When they returned to their seats, Emilia set about lowering the backs into the sleeping position. Cary raised an eyebrow, ¡°You¡¯ve slept for the last three hours. Are you really tired?¡±


    Emilia¡¯s face was red as she shrugged. ¡°Not really, but I wasn¡¯t thinking of sleeping right now.¡±


    ¡°Wha¡­¡± The smile spread across Cary¡¯s lips as she recalled Emilia¡¯s desperate promise during the birthing. ¡°I would not hold you to such a desperate agreement, if you wished to recant.¡±


    Still blushing, Emilia said, ¡°thank you, but I am¡­ interested anyway.¡±


    ¡°Interested in what?¡± Cary advance on Emilia, dropping to all fours as she crossed the edge of their reclined seats. ¡°You make it sound as though you have designs of your own.¡±


    ¡°Um, well, if you¡¯re going to touch my¡­¡± Emilia searched the area with her eyes, ¡°my chest, then maybe I could touch yours?¡±


    Cary¡¯s smile grew and blossomed as she nodded. Her voice came breathlessly. ¡°You do not even need to ask my permission.¡±


    Dropping her gaze to Cary¡¯s chest, Emilia nodded as if mesmerized by Cary¡¯s body. ¡°I¡¯m a little jealous of you.¡±


    ¡°Thank you. If it helps you, I appreciate many of your attributes as well.¡±


    Emilia pulled the blankets over both of them and stared into Cary¡¯s eyes. ¡°How can you translate my words so well, when I do not know what I¡¯m trying to say sometimes?¡±


    ¡°I have many years of experience deciphering cryptic remarks from a master of espionage and subterfuge. Though you are clever and well-spoken, you are not especially circumspect with your language. I find it refreshing.¡±


    ¡°Is this okay?¡± Emilia reached out and ran her hand down Cary¡¯s chest. ¡°You¡¯re not wearing a bra?¡±


    Cary chuckled. ¡°I should think it obvious, no?¡±


    Emilia shrugged. ¡°I guess I noticed vaguely while we were making out, but I didn¡¯t, I mean I wasn¡¯t staring or anything.¡±


    ¡°Well, now you know for certain.¡± Cary¡¯s voice lost a bit of her edge as she breathed out under Emilia¡¯s caresses. Her tentative probings were gentler than any demon would have ever been. No one had ever touched Cary with such concern and trepidation. She loved it.


    A small moan escaped Cary¡¯s lips and Emilia pulled her hand away. ¡°Did I hurt you?¡±


    ¡°Absolutely not.¡± Cary grabbed Emilia¡¯s hand and brought it fully onto her breasts. Holding her own hand over Emilia¡¯s, spread out like an overlain glove, she pressed Emilia¡¯s hands into her own chest hard. ¡°You could be a good deal more vigorous and you would not hurt me.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d rather be gentle, is that okay?¡±


    Cary had to kiss her, had to embrace Emilia there. Her breath was stale and raw from slumber, but Cary loved every bit of it, as if the parts of floral aroma grew stronger this way. When she finally drew herself away from Emilia, she said, ¡°I want you to be who you are, nothing else¡­¡± she almost spoke the foreign words, strange enough on her own lips that Cary brought her fingers to them. But rather than say those three small words, she lowered her hand to Emilia¡¯s chest. Before she made contact, she said, ¡°may I touch you?¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡±


    ¡°I will be gentle.¡± During her hundred lifetimes of experience, she¡¯d learned that people often treated others in bed as they would have those treat them. Cary was as delicate and gentle as she could manage. She refrained from pinching or grabbing Emilia, but rather ran her hands over her lover¡¯s body as if smoothing out a ruffled bed.


    Emilia didn¡¯t moan, but rather squealed out her delight, flushing an even deeper red that ran down below her collarbones. ¡°Gods, that feels good.¡±


    Cary stroked Emilia¡¯s side, not even touching the usual erogenous zones of Emilia¡¯s breast. ¡°You have sensitive skin.¡± The fact made the abuse Emilia had suffered an even greater affront. Far from the first time, Cary regretted her initial refusal to slay Emilia¡¯s former guardian.


    ¡°Yeah, I guess so?¡± She wriggled under Cary¡¯s touch. ¡°I don¡¯t have anything to compare it to.¡±


    Cary nodded. ¡°This seems very sensitive to me.¡±


    Emilia¡¯s eyes widened as Cary walked her fingers down toward Emilia¡¯s hips. Hesitating in place, Cary feared she¡¯d overstepped a boundary. Instead, Emilia grabbed her hand and guided it to her rump. ¡°You¡¯ve been so well behaved, you can touch me here too.¡±


    A purr rumbled out of Cary¡¯s throat. ¡°Why do I feel as though this is as much for your benefit as it is for mine?¡±


    Emilia pulled herself into Cary¡¯s arms and wrapped her legs around one of Cary¡¯s. ¡°Because you are a clever and wise little demoness, I think.¡± Pressure rose as Emilia pushed herself against Cary¡¯s leg. For her part, Cart anchored her leg against the armrest of her own chair and let Emilia press herself against her knee.


    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    The moan that escaped Emilia¡¯s lips would have been out of place if the others in the cabin had been awake. But from her preternatural hearing, Cary knew that they all slept at that moment. And not one of them stirred as Emilia rubbed her crotch against Cary¡¯s knee. Emilia arched her back so Cary moved her hands to caress her breasts. That brought Emilia over the crest, shivering and twitching into an orgasm that brought a look of exquisite, innocent shock to Emilia¡¯s face, as if she hadn¡¯t planned this to begin with. Considering her actual innocence, Emilia might not have intended to bring herself this way. Cary didn¡¯t mind, but she imagined Emilia would be embarrassed.


    True to her prediction, Emilia pulled herself away from Cary with downturned eyes. Cary grabbed Emilia¡¯s chin and found the seeds of tears there. ¡°What is wrong?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to¡­¡± Emilia bit her lip and her voice cracked. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to use you like that.¡±


    Cary could not help the chuckle that broke free from her mouth. ¡°Dear, you did not use me. We joined in¡­ something akin to a union.¡±


    ¡°But I didn¡¯t ask¡­¡± Guilt washed over Emilia¡¯s face.


    Cary lifted the blanket and pointed to where her foot had been anchored. ¡°And yet I knew what you were doing. If I¡¯d minded, I would have said something. You do not need to seek my permission for every little act. Especially as I was encouraging you.¡± She kissed Emilia¡¯s cheeks and eyelids. ¡°In truth, I loved this.¡± Cary lowered her voice and brought her mouth to Emilia¡¯s ear. ¡°I would have you fuck my knee every night if it such were within my power.¡±


    Emilia shook her head, as if the notion disturbed her. ¡°That¡¯s not¡­ I wasn¡¯t doing that.¡±


    ¡°It is called frottage, the French language is well suited to sexual innuendo and activity. And it is nothing to be ashamed of.¡±


    ¡°But it¡¯s not,¡± Emilia lowered her voice even further, ¡°sex.¡±


    Cary shrugged. ¡°Some closed minded idiots would say that nothing two women could do would amount to sex. They are¡­ wrong.¡± Cary almost said, ¡°as wrong as you are now,¡± but she managed to self-edit before she upset Emilia further.


    ¡°Well this doesn¡¯t count.¡± Emilia drew away from Cary with her arms over her stomach. Cary knew their intimacy was done for the evening and felt a pang of regret from the knowledge.


    ¡°If you say so, then it is so.¡±


    ¡°I need to use the rest room. Can you let me out?¡± Cary stood and Emilia turned with her hand on Cary¡¯s chest. She blinked at where she¡¯d touched Cary and cleared her throat again. ¡°Don¡¯t follow me, please?¡±


    Cary nodded, still uncertain of what had so greatly upset Emilia. Her servant¡¯s memories clarified nothing. She waited, standing in the center of the first class cabins while Emilia conducted her business. Senses still primed for danger, Cary detected nothing amiss as Emilia returned from the bathroom with an ashamed look on her face.


    Counter to her expectations, Emilia took Cary¡¯s hand and kissed her briefly on the lips. ¡°I am sorry I¡¯m a psycho. I still l¡­ like you and I want to try this again. But not tonight okay?¡±


    Cary brushed a lock of hair that had escaped Emilia¡¯s braid off of her forehead. ¡°We have a very long time before us, there is no rush.¡±


    ¡°Then it¡¯s okay if we just sleep together tonight. Just sleep, not anything else?¡±


    ¡°As I said. I am in no great hurry.¡±


    Emilia nodded, biting her lip as she did. Cary pulled the sheet away for Emilia who bounced across the bed and waited for Cary to crawl in after. Cary followed and paused while Emilia situated herself. She did so and crawled in and let Emilia lower her head to Cary¡¯s shoulder. A few seconds passed and Emilia whispered. ¡°Thank you. For saving me, for protecting me, and for being so patient with me. I know I am annoying and frustrating. And you never treat me like it. Thank you.¡±


    ¡°You are welcome.¡± Cary could have argued, could have denied Emilia¡¯s words, but that would have been tantamount to denying her feelings. Though Cary did not agree with Emilia¡¯s self-assessment, she could voice her concerns later.


    The rest of their flight was uneventful. No further attacks or catastrophes demanded either Cary or Emilia¡¯s attention. They performed a final set of examinations of Freda and her twins, but the mother and her two squealing infants were as healthy as the filthy little mutants got. Cary smiled through the examination as best she could. Frowning or otherwise demonstrating her displeasure might have upset them. It would certainly upset Emilia, who seemed to expand as she looked over the infants. As if their presence activated her magic and filled her with glee, the last bits of fatigue flowed out of Emilia¡¯s shoulders as she cooed at the children and made silly faces at them.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe you don¡¯t like babies. Who doesn¡¯t like babies?¡±


    ¡°They simply creep me out.¡± Cary had struggled to find the correct way to express herself so Emilia would understand. ¡°They are far too small while their eyes and heads are far too large. There are demons¡­ well you would be disturbed by infants if you¡¯d grown up in the Infernim.¡±


    ¡°What was it like?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d rather not speak of them. They are disgusting.¡±


    ¡°Not the demons, I mean the whole Infernim. I only know about it through books and stuff. You don¡¯t talk about it.¡±


    Their plane taxied to the landing zone, preparing to offload its passengers after their multiple-hour flight. Cary stretched her neck and said, ¡°There are parts of the Infernim that are remarkably similar to the mortal realms. The skies overhead are blue, a yellow star lights the heavens, and the air is as clean as it is here. The air might be more pure in those parts. But the demonic flora and fauna in those parts are among the most dangerous, as if the plane is unwilling or unable to abide such a high degree of normality.


    ¡°Other parts are shrouded in ubiquitous brown fog and the air reeks of sulfur and burning pitch. No star lights the heavens, but a constant green glow provides the illumination for the residents. There the soil yields twisted, but edible plants, and the demons who live there most resemble mortals in their aspects and behavior. Perhaps that is not quite right. Few, if any, demons truly resemble mortals. If a demon looks like a human, they have disguised themselves or changed their shape. There is no other explanation.


    ¡°As to the rest of the Infernim, the variety is said to be endless. In truth, I have not seen that much of the surface of my home plane. I grew up in a desert-like area and was taken by my master in my youth. What I have seen of the rest of the plane was during the period of my captivity and service.¡±


    ¡°Are a lot of demons forced into service like that?¡±


    ¡°Nearly all. Those demons who are free are either very lucky, born into a royal house, or purchased their freedom through some form of service. Many such demons attempt to ensnare their fellows in traps, as a way to expand their personal power.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°That is the great unifier among demons. Almost all seek power in one way or another. I would say it is the same with mortals, but that would not be correct. Mortals pursue their own goals for their own purposes, sometimes without explanation or reason. But demons¡­ only a very tiny minority concern themselves with anything other than the acquisition of power, either through wealth or some other means.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t seem concerned with that.¡±


    The plane trembled to a stop and Cary concluded her explanation. ¡°That is because I spent so much of my time trapped by another. If you would characterize my chief motivation, it is freedom. And to protect the people I care about.¡±


    ¡°You mean me?¡± Emilia pointed to herself as if surprised she was the one Cary spoke of.


    ¡°Indeed Emilia Olren. There are no other mortals, no other beings I truly have any concern for. You are unique between here and the Boundary.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that, you¡¯ve mentioned the Boundary before?¡±


    The pilot announced their arrival and the attendants arrived to assist them with their carry-on luggage, so Cary was not able to continue her lessons. In truth, she¡¯d intended to redirect Emilia anyway, the girl could use a lesson in personal exploration in this case.


    They disembarked from the plane. During this transition, Cary remained silent, her eyes darting between potential threats as she tried to keep herself between Emilia and the other passengers. They made it out of the boarding chute and found Joshua, Regina, Betsy, and Max waiting for them.


    Betsy rushed forward, her red hair braided up in a similar fashion to Emilia¡¯s. ¡°Oh my god! You¡¯re here! This place is AMAZING, Em! You¡¯re gonna love it!¡±


    Already, Cary had noticed how the atmosphere in this place was cleaner than that of the airport in Austin. The air was more than pure, magic seemed to hover and float in the air like a cloud covered them with its aegis .


    Joshua had his hands folded before him, but he took a step toward Cary, nodded and offered her his hand. ¡°It is good to see you, Ms Cary.¡±


    ¡°Josh,¡± Cary winked at him and flashed the magician a grin as she did. ¡°It is a pleasure to be here as well.¡±


    Betsy hugged Cary after Emilia while the others took their turns. As if he¡¯d worked some magic of his own, the departing crowd flowed around Joshua. Once Cary had a moment, she motioned to Joshua with a tilt of her head. He closed the gap between them, ¡°did you have any problems?¡±


    ¡°Yes, we did. I would prefer to get out of the open, if you don¡¯t mind.¡±


    Joshua diverted the group outside to a waiting van. Their luggage arrived first, another benefit for their First Class accommodations. As a result, the whole group managed to leave before the crowd could close around them.


    Cary and Emilia took turns relating their adventures aboard the plane, which captivated the van as it rattled down the roads. Based on the outdated books Cary had read about the country, she had expected a rural, backwater community with dilapidated roads and vehicles from several decades past. Instead the roads benefited from regular service, their van was a modern Mercedes, and the countryside looked like some kind of pastoral paradise. That latter bit was the only factor the older books had gotten right.


    Once their story was done, Cary asked Joshua, ¡°who do you think our attackers were?¡±


    ¡°Yes, that is a difficult question. Foreign governments tend to send agents to Armenia, particularly magically capable agents. Our domestic services are¡­ rather full of magic.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± Emilia practically bounced next to Cary. ¡°That¡¯s weird, right?¡±


    Joshua nodded. ¡°Among European powers, we are the only one that maintains an active interest in the occult. The clandestine magical services of the other powers maintain a keen interest in our affairs because of this.¡±


    ¡°Is that why the Cabal uses this nation as their training grounds?¡± Cary assumed this was the case, but she hoped to draw Joshua out on the subject.


    ¡°Indeed. We also have our headquarters here. The Cabal has a long history of cooperation with the Armenian government, several of our members sit on the parliament and advise our prime minister.¡±


    ¡°That is quite unusual, yes?¡± Cary continued her conversation with Joshua while the others in the van whispered among themselves.


    ¡°As I said, no other Western government maintains such close ties. I believe the Indian and Himalayan nations share an even deeper link between their magical societies and their government, though I have never been to either country.¡±


    Cary would have asked more, but Joshua spoke to the driver in Armenian and asked him to stop.She¡¯d memorized the Armenian spoken vocabulary in the last month and was working on the grammar. She could understand the language well enough now, though she could not speak it fluently yet.


    Their van stopped in the entrance to a wide open field, large enough that Cary had to peer to see the forests in the distance. Joshua and the others exited the van while Cary and Emilia exchanged wary glances.


    Joshua opened his arms wide, as if unveiling the empty field. ¡°Emilia, Cary, welcome to the Sanctum Sanctorum.¡±


    For three seconds, nothing happened. Joshua stood there with his arms spread out resembling a steampunk PT Barnum. As the third second ticked over, like the interval had been precisely timed, the world spun around Cary and Emilia. Emilia grabbed Cary¡¯s arm as if to keep her balance as a large stone archway appeared in the air.

 Chapter 6 Emilia - Boris the Oni

    Cary maintained her balance as the world shifted despite Emilia¡¯s clinging and despite her own inner ear¡¯s ringing complaints. The stone archway before them did not connect to any building, at least none that Cary could see. In face, the only feature of the massive plain that had changed in the least was the archway.


    ¡°What is this Joshua?¡± Cary hesitated at the arch as the others walked in with amused expressions on their faces.


    ¡°As I said, this is the Sanctum Sanctorum.¡± He waved Cary and Emilia after him. ¡°I assure you, I give you my word, that as long as you do not offer violence to those within, you will not suffer attacks from the same. In fact, I urge you to resist attacking anything you find within this campus.¡±


    Cary wanted to ask, ¡°what campus,¡± but she was weary from her flight and the others retreated from her into the archway and vanished as they did. Magicians were absurd people on face, so perhaps this was some sort of test. It would make sense based on what Cary know about magician kind.


    She stepped into the archway ahead of Emilia, with her hand firmly wrapped around Emilia¡¯s own. The air shimmered around them and the archway vanished.


    The same open field surrounded them, but now small colorful tents decorated the landscape. And the field was much larger than Cary originally thought, perhaps a thousand yards square, though when she stared into the horizon, it shrank and expanded as she did so.


    People moved between the tents with purpose, each of them bound for some task or esoteric activity. At once, Cary noted that she was hardly the only demon here. A full-fledged Temptress walked through the grounds with a dark green robe concealing everything but her raised tail and the peaks of her wings. She was taller than the other students, except for the massive ogre who approached them.


    He had a short horn jutting from the center of his head and a squished eye directly below it. That central orb glowed red with an inner light while his other two eyes looked normal, right down to their dark brown irises and black pupils. Two pairs of overly large fangs jutted up from his underbite almost all the way up to his squashed nose.


    The ogre wore a floppy hat that had gone out of fashion sometime in the fourteenth century. As if to toss style to the wind, he also sported a long flowing black robe that opened in the front to display a paisley pink and orange vest. His pants were simple brown woolen trousers held up by suspenders. A silver chain led from his left trouser pocket to his vest pocket. As Cary stared at that chain, it moved of its own accord.


    Books weighed his left arm down, carried under his armpit and bound with a leather strap. His right arm bore a gauntlet that looked entirely out of place with the rest of his clothing, not that they matched especially well. It was burnished brass with carefully overlapping sections that moved with liquid fluidity. Delicate silver inlay over the brass shone in the sun and reflects speckled light into Cary¡¯s eyes. It made her skull itch. That gauntlet grasped a long square staff. It looked more like a tower than a staff, with four cylindrical rods at the corners providing a scaffold for a myriad of gears, cams, and pistons. They moved in time with the Ogre¡¯s gait, which carried him directly before Emilia and Cary.


    Instinctively, Cary stepped between the ogre and Emilia. ¡°How can we help you?¡± She spoke the words through clenched jaws as she checked the ogre for additional weapons.


    Cary¡¯s appearance seemed to surprise him as he blinked at her and stepped back. Removing a monocle from the inside of his robe, as well as a small cloud of moths, he rubbed the glass on his sleeve and held it up to his right most eye. The central eye shifted toward purple as he peered at Cary.


    ¡°Ah, I see. A form-trapped Formless One! Fascinating! My my young lady, your nature makes you virtually oxymoronic! How rare! Tell me, how did you come by your present condition?¡±The ogre left the monocle in his eye as he glanced between Cary and Emilia.


    For a moment, Cary almost answered the ogre without thinking. But she shook her head and said, ¡°What is your name, sir? Who are you?¡±


    The ogre pulled his head back as if Cary bit his nose and he needed to shake her off before he could speak. ¡°Well, my name is, or rather I go by Boris these days. So please call me Boris.¡±


    He shifted his staff to his left hand, awkwardly shifting the books as he did. At the same time, as the staff separated from the gauntlet, sparks and tiny lightning bursts shot between the gauntlet and the staff. Extending his hand to Cary, he said. ¡°And what are you called, Formless One?¡±


    ¡°Uh, please call me Cary.¡±


    ¡°A fine name! A fine name.¡± Boris peeked around Cary¡¯s arms where she held them at her sides. ¡°And what about you, young lady? You¡­¡± Boris hopped and clapped his hands. ¡°You are the Consumer dear little Joshua informed us about. What was your name¡­¡± He tried to pull a book out from his side as if he¡¯d forgotten both women, but the staff remained in his way. Glancing between the staff and his books, he jammed the side of the staff between his teeth and juggled the book into his right hand.


    While this happened Emilia squeezed Cary¡¯s arm and stepped forward. Cary whispered to her, ¡°I do not think he¡¯s dangerous¡­ or well, he is certainly dangerous, but I do not believe he is dangerous to us right now. Go ahead and tell him.¡±


    ¡°Sir, my name is Emilia Olren.¡±


    The ogre looked up, the staff clenched in his oversized jaws. ¡°Mrphrlrrr!¡± He shook his head like a dog and spat the staff back into the crook of his arm and replaced the book back into the loop of leather with the rest. ¡°Marvelous! Olren¡­ I¡¯ve not heard your surname before Joshua mentioned you. We will definitely have to conduct a genealogy! Fabulous!¡±


    He reached for Emilia and Cary growled at him. The smell and aura of magic about this ogre was palpable and strong enough that he sent her protective urges into the red. He took a step back and looked between them. ¡°Oh, is Ms Cary your familiar, Ms Olren?¡±


    Before Emilia could answer, Cary recognized an emergency, one she hadn¡¯t anticipated that might occur among the group of magicians. She spoke for both of them. ¡°Oh yes, Master Magician. I am Emilia¡¯s faithful servant.¡±


    ¡°Rather impertinent for a servant, but I see!¡± He grinned at both of them and bowed with his right leg back. ¡°I suppose for Ms Cary¡¯s sake I should follow the forms. Ms Olren, I, Boris swear before the Beginning and End and upon the Boundary itself that I will not allow harm to come to you if within my power to prevent it. Assuming you offer no intentional violence to me or mine.¡± He raised his torso and raised an eyebrow at Cary. ¡°Does that suffice Ms Formless One?¡±


    Cary nodded and stepped back so Emilia could move forward. Emilia cleared her throat and said, ¡°Thank you, Boris. I should mention I guess, that I do not have great control over my Consumption.¡±


    ¡°Of course not. If you could control your gift, why would you be here? This is why I attached the rider about ¡°intentional¡± harm to my oath. I assumed you will eventually cause harm to someone here, I just hope to be on hand to take notes when you do.¡±


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Boris put his right arm at the small of Emilia¡¯s back and started to lead her away. Cary took two steps forward, only for a squat, figure with mottled green skin to stop her in her tracks. He barely stood higher than her thighs. He wore a dark brown pointed cap and held a piece of haygrass between his teeth. At first Cary thought he wore the hide of some woolen beast around his chest and lower body, but after a brief examination, she realized that was his actual body hair.


    ¡°Where do you think you¡¯re going, familiar?¡± The goblin spoke with a strange accent, more refined than others of his kind, but still similar enough to human speech patterns to make Cary uncomfortable.


    ¡°I intend to follow my magician.¡± Cary started to walk around the goblin, but he darted in front of her.


    ¡°No can do, toots.¡± The goblin jerked a thumb toward Boris and Emilia who retreated into a large blue tent. ¡°They¡¯ve got official magician business. As for you and me, we got demon business.¡±


    ¡°You are not a goblin, are you?¡± Cary had tried and failed to keep the disgust out of her voice.


    ¡°No, I am not. I¡¯m an Imp. And you better show some respect, toots. I am the head familiar ¡®round these parts.¡±


    ¡°I have no intention of taking orders from an Imp¡­¡±


    ¡°And I¡¯m not some fucking officer. I don¡¯t give orders. I just pass along the rules and make sure that some wayward demon doesn¡¯t burn the place down during a wet, or red, dream.¡±


    ¡°What is that supposed to mean?¡±


    The Imp eyed Cary with a steady glare. ¡°It means I can see how you¡¯re the kind who thinks she¡¯s above the rules and intends to cause problems. I don¡¯t care who you think you are, as far as I¡¯m concerned you¡¯re an upjumped sligo with pretensions of glory and power.¡±


    Rather than admit she did not exactly follow the Imp¡¯s palaver, Cary folded her arms and said, ¡°what comes next then?¡±


    He widened his right eye and shrugged. ¡°Well, sheeit. Maybe you can learn.¡± The Imp turned and motioned for Cary to follow him in the same direction the robed Temptress had gone. ¡°This way. We need to get you processed.¡±


    Cary rankled under the Imp¡¯s brusque treatment, but she followed him into a small red tent. The inside was considerably larger than the outside. Rather than red canvas walls, the interior was covered in black wooden paneling that had been polished and shined to an almost mirrored surface. A door opened for the Imp as he approached and he walked in with a steady eye on Cary.


    ¡°Dorcas! Time for you to take notes!¡± The Imp shouted with his squeaky voice into the room as he ran into his office. Cary had to pause to take everything in here. Books lined the walls, thick ones, thin ones, and every imaginable variation of written recording medium from papyrus, to scrolls to modern paperbacks like Cary had seen in the airport stores.


    Curios lined the walls, from a small horned skull that suspiciously resembled a dragon¡¯s head to a trio of gold chains from which hung a small azure vial of bubbling liquid. Mist poured out of that vial and gathered over the thick Persian rugs that covered the floors.


    The Imp crawled up onto the chair at the back of the room with considerable effort. Both desk and chair were sized for a full human body. While he pumped his chair up to a useable height, Cary studied his secretary.


    She was the Temptress from before, as gorgeous and enchanting as her kind were said to be. Now that she had divested herself of her robes, Cary could see the full extent of her ochre skin ¡ª a rarity among her species ¡ª as well as the curved horns atop her head. She had marvelous lavender irises that glittered in the dim light of the room with golden flecks.


    Her wings darkened toward the tips becoming full crimson at the ends. They fluttered behind her despite the still air of the room. Her tail curved up and around the chair she sat in until it lay in her lap like a cat, occasionally twitching at the nearby sounds. She wore a conservative dark green full-length dress, white button-up shirt with a little black tie and a matching coat.


    ¡°Ahem. If you¡¯re done ogling my secretary?¡± Both the Temptress and Cary jumped as if they¡¯d been caught in the middle of some form of impropriety. ¡°Good. Now please state your preferred form of address for the record.¡±


    ¡°Dorcas¡­¡± ¡°Cary¡­¡± both of them blushed at their awkwardness. The Imp¡¯s gaze slid to his secretary. ¡°Not you, woman. Just her.¡± He jabbed a stubby, fur-covered finger at Cary. ¡°So Cary, right? Do you have a preferred pronoun?¡±


    ¡°She/her is fine.¡±


    ¡°Excellent.¡± The Imp eyed his secretary who¡¯d begun recording Cary¡¯s answers. ¡°Now what magical abilities do you have? Innate only, I don¡¯t care to hear your fully litany of spell-knowledge. That can come later.¡±


    Cary pursed her lips. ¡°I can assume various human forms, the form of a Temptress, and that of a Stone Maiden.¡±


    The Imp cocked his head to the left. ¡°That¡¯s all? No Greater Demons or the shape of a chair. Or I don¡¯t know, anything at all?¡±


    It galled Cary to admit her curse to this little rude Imp. But she cleared her throat. ¡°That is all. I can sense magic to a lesser extent, though that is inconsistent. I possess keen senses.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t bother writing that last thing down, Dorcas!¡± The Imp¡¯s behavior made Cary want to throttle him. But she just clenched her fists into her side. ¡°Do you have any other skills?¡±


    Only when she tried to hold back did she recognize the enchantment that had been laid on her. What impressed her the most was the fact she hadn¡¯t felt it fall over her in the first place. She wasn¡¯t exactly resistant to magic, but she had been around it long enough to recognize the signs. Whoever laid this enchantment was a master among magicians, powerful enough for his abilities to come to Elelele¡¯s notice. ¡°I possess an eidetic memory as well as an encyclopedic knowledge of rare spells and magical rites.¡±


    The Imp¡¯s head twitched at her final answer. Dorcas regarded Cary with a degree of awe. Before the Imp could pose his next question, the door behind Cary burst open. ¡°Grigo! I swear I told you¡­¡±


    Cary reacted automatically, her mind moving before she became fully conscious of the threat or its exact nature. She assumed her stone form and spun to face the intruder, clamping her hand onto her neck. This woman was the exact twin of the secretary, Dorcas. Only instead of librarian-like clothing, this woman wore the robe Cary had seen earlier. With the front split open and the woman choking in Cary¡¯s grip, Cary could see that she wore a loincloth and veils better suited for a sultan¡¯s harem than an English countryside office.


    ¡°Help?¡± The woman¡¯s voice slid between Cary¡¯s stone grip.


    A shock from behind made Cary¡¯s body twitch as she reverted to her human form. The Imp, Grigo, pushed her out of the way.


    ¡°Are you okay my darling Esme? Did she hurt you?¡± The Temptress leaned down to the Imp and ruffled the mop of greasy hair on the top of his head.


    Cary continued to twitch from whatever electric attack Grigo had directed at her. She turned to look at the secretary, Dorcas, to find a look of naked malice on her face. Grigo was as much the target of that glare as the new Temptress, Esme. When Dorcas spotted Cary looking, she blushed and dropped her eyes to the floor, as if guilty over being caught. As beautiful as Dorcas and her twin were, Cary had a feeling that dire consequences followed shortly behind anyone who involved themselves with those three.


    Still, as per the name of her species, Cary found herself sorely tempted by Dorcas. At the very least, she wanted to learn more.


    Grigo and Esme spent a few minutes consoling each other and flashing grumpy looks toward Cary. Once they were finally done, Grigo shooed Esme out of the room with a series of goodbye kisses and fondling that would have turned Emilia¡¯s face purple.


    ¡°Okay, now that that is over, don¡¯t attack my wife again, you stupid demon.¡± Grigo walked back to his desk shaking a gnarled glass rod at Cary that she recognized as a fulgurite. ¡°Next time I will shock you bad enough that you¡¯ll lose bodily control. That¡¯s always hilarious.¡± Once he was situated, he looked around the room, slammed his hands on his desk and shouted, ¡°Dorcas! Where were we?¡±


    Her expression remained dark. ¡°We had just asked Cary about her skills and abilities. I believe you were about to cast doubt as to the veracity of her claims.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re damned right I was! Eidetic memories are hogswattle! Close your eyes and describe my office.¡±


    Cary sighed. This was one of the first tasks her master had set her to. She had recorded the name of every book she had seen as well as every part of the room in her line of sight. Covering both eyes with her palms, she proceeded to recite the titles and the descriptions of the books, starting from the stack of slates behind her to the right.


    ¡°Okay, holy shit! I take it back, shut up!¡± Grigo did not let Cary get halfway through the room before he stopped her. ¡°You just do that shit every time you step into a room¡­ know what? I don¡¯t care. Just make sure you write it all down, Dorcas and make sure the bosses get it.¡±He waited for Dorcas to finish writing before he pointed at Cary again. ¡°About those spells you know. I think we have a perfectly good posting for a demoness of your talents. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll enjoy it¡­¡±


    Cary¡¯s stomach clenched. She didn¡¯t think Grigo liked her enough to actually help her.

 Chapter 7 Emilia - Trials

    Boris led Emilia through a blue tent flap and into a small ivy-bedecked glade. The sun stood at a different position overhead as they moved in among the leaves. ¡°Where did we go?¡±


    His large, floppy ears twitching, Boris waved to the vine-thick trees. ¡°I¡¯m not actually sure. I think this might be a fragment of broken time. I could inquire with the Master of the Grounds if you are really curious.¡±


    ¡°Um¡­¡±


    Boris mumbled as much to answer her as to himself. ¡°In fact, now I am curious, so I will ask after we have a brief discussion and test.¡±


    ¡°Test, sir?¡±


    ¡°Oh yes, while I can perceive the talent in you and that it is quite strong, we like to formally assess our student¡¯s abilities before we place them with masters.¡±


    The word made Emilia¡¯s skin crawl. For some reason, she thought of her Godmother first and Cary second. Cary¡¯s image set Emilia¡¯s body back into a relaxed state. But it also made her question why Cary had concealed their relationship. Surely Joshua knew about Cary and Emilia and the details of their association, right? Come to think of it, Cary and Emilia had never had an explicit discussion with Joshua about who was the servant and who was the master among them. Maybe Cary had done that on purpose.


    Boris stopped before an altar with two little benches next to it. He tapped the altar with the butt of his staff. ¡°This is the test right here. You are to open this altar using whatever methods are available to you.¡± Emilia tilted her head to the right and Boris added, ¡°the sooner, the better.¡±


    Emilia possessed little in the way of formal spells. She understood the basic mechanics of spellcraft and how to apply magic. But other than a little healing, some obscuration, and detection magics, she was a complete novice. She might as well have been full-blooded mortal for all the good it did her.


    Rather that waste her time, Emilia squatted down and sniffed at the stone. It smelled of earth and sod, but also of oil and coppery metal. As if there were a mechanism within, hiding just below the surface. She didn¡¯t want to touch it, but she couldn¡¯t find a seam or other way of penetrating to the interior of the stone.


    With a single finger extended, Emilia cast a simple detection spell. It should reveal the magical nature of the stone as well as the surrounding area. She gave her short chant to the air and opened her eyes. Argent currents swirled through the air, curling and flowing around Cary and especially around Boris. But the stone itself was utterly non-magical. It seemed to actively repel the currents in the air.


    Other than the anti-magic effect around the stone, Emilia couldn¡¯t discover anything unusual or interesting about. Over on the bench, Boris removed the strap from his books, which sent them toppling off of the bench and onto the ground. Every one of those books radiated a strong magical aura that flared under Emilia¡¯s magically augmented vision. Boris dropped several of the books, fumbling with them as he tried to collect the lot, so Emilia finally set out to help the clumsy magician.


    ¡°Thank you, young lady. But you still have a task of your own.¡± He collected the last book she lifted up for him and he winked at her with his words. It was less of a scolding and more of a reminder.


    Emilia still wilted under his regard and returned her attention to the stone altar. After circling it once, she determined that it lacked any external seam, marks, or other indication that it opened in the first place. It looked more like a broken plinth than an altar, thought the surface was flat and there was no indication that it had been cut from any other piece of stone.


    With a tentative motion, Emilia reached out and tapped the altar with her finger. Nothing happened, though the surface felt rougher than it looked and radiated a minuscule amount of heat. For his part, Boris the ogre had take to entirely ignoring Emilia. He¡¯d raised his book up to his nose and wrapped it around his face like a veil. He must have been struggling to read the text.


    After her initial contact with the stone, Emilia put both of her hands on it, bracing herself for the stone to sting her or otherwise attack. It laid there like an inert lump of rock. She tried picking it up, but nothing happened there. It didn¡¯t so much as shift under her grip.


    Next, she ran her fingers under the base of the stone. As far as she could tell, the altar was submerged into the soil by at least several inches, deeper than she¡¯d be able to probe with her available tools.


    Growing impatient with her own failure to move the altar, Emilia summoned up her only trump card: her Consumption. With the anti magic aura, she didn¡¯t think she would be able to penetrate the altar, but her shallow toolbox had already given up everything within, except for her talent. Boris had mentioned it specifically, so it had to have something to do with the test, right?


    Gingerly, Emilia released her power into the stone, waiting for it to disintegrate or otherwise fall open like a lotus. Instead, her magic coruscated within the altar, swirling around for a few seconds as her hand stuck to the stone. Emilia jerked her hand away, but she stuck fast. A second after she¡¯d injected the force of her power into the altar, it threw it back out at her.


    The forces of palpable draining invaded her skin, drawing a scream from Emilia¡¯s lips as her own personal energy collided with the now foreign invasion of the Consumption sent by the altar. Pieces of her fragmented power shot into the altar, swirled and burst into her skin. The wrack surges of draining sucked Emilia¡¯s strength away.


    At last, after several rounds of the cycle repeating, the altar released her hand and sent her stumbling away from the stone surface and onto her butt. Emilia lay twitching, with tears running from her eyes while she gathered her breath. Neither Papa Butch nor Cary had warned her that might happen. And Boris was utterly silent about the test. He didn¡¯t so much as glance up as the altar blasted her back to the ground.


    The muscles of her right arm still twitched as she stood. Ozone clogged her sinuses, as if she¡¯d burned a bunch of hair off with her experimentation. As far as she could tell, she wasn¡¯t injured. But she was severely enervated, exhausted almost to the point of passing out where she stood.


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    Mustering her courage for another approach, Emilia came up empty. She couldn¡¯t open the altar with her hands, her magical sight didn¡¯t help her, and the lone power she possessed that might open the altar rebounded back against her in a feedback loop Emilia never cared to experience again.


    ¡°I give up.¡± Looking over at Boris, he¡¯d activated a little floating lantern with a pair of rotors on the top like a helicopter made by Davinci.


    ¡°Is that so? You don¡¯t want to spend a few more hours at this?¡± He quirked an eyebrow up at her without raising his gaze from his book.


    ¡°It¡¯s been hours?¡± Emilia shook her head. This wasn¡¯t as bad as the average evening with Cynthia, but Emilia had no intention of inflicting more pain on herself needlessly. ¡°I am good. Can we go?¡±


    She expected Boris to sigh and shake his head at her in disgust. If she¡¯d thought they would kick her out of the school, she wouldn¡¯t have quit. But based on what Boris had intimated, they wouldn¡¯t do that anyway. At least Emilia had convinced herself of that.


    Boris just shrugged in response to Emilia¡¯s concession of defeat, fumbled with his book until he had it re-latched, and stood with the aid of his staff. ¡°Then we best get back to camp before the kitchens close. I do hate missing pie day.¡±


    ¡°Pie day?¡± Boris had piqued Emilia¡¯s interest and earned her full attention. They apparently weren¡¯t going to boot her from the school.


    ¡°Indeed. I adore a good meat pie as nothing else.¡± He tottered with his hands on his staff. ¡°Come, come child. Let¡¯s go.¡±


    ¡°So¡­ I failed, right?¡± Boris nodded, his face blank. ¡°And you¡¯re not kicking me out, right?¡±


    ¡°Of course not. What kind of school only teaches pupils who already possess the requisite knowledge?¡± Boris tapped his nose with his staff. ¡°Though I¡¯ll admit some academies require a minimal amount of knowledge from their attendees. Relax, that is not how we work here. You will simply be assigned to a set of classes fit for your skills and aptitudes.¡±


    ¡°Okay, thank the Gods.¡±


    Boris nodded at Emilia, as if she¡¯d asked him a question. They didn¡¯t speak for the rest of their short trip back to the camp. Though Emilia had paid attention to their trek, she couldn¡¯t tell when the darkened forest gave way to the open field and its sparse collection of tents and other temporary buildings. One moment, she dodged low-hanging branches and the next she stood in the plain with a small group of people and otherworldly things darting back and forth. The only common factor between the forest and the camp was the fact that night had fallen in both places.


    Hobbling over to a small green tent, Boris beckoned for Emilia to follow. She ducked under the flap, which the kindly old ogre held for her, to find a banquet hall as large as any she¡¯d seen on television or read about in any book.


    People of all types, humans, elves, fairies, goblins, and more demons than she could count, bustled to and fro eating, playing or delivering dishes. Most of the servants were demonic in nature, their types recognizable to Emilia from the books Cynthia had her study when she was younger. Those books were the only things she missed from that part of her life. Except maybe Betsy, Max, and Regina, who all sat together at the end of one of the least ruckus tables in the hall.


    ¡°There she is!¡± Max stood up and waved to Emilia. Regina and Betsy turned and flashed wide grins at her.


    Boris had disappeared into the chaotic crowd. He hadn¡¯t given her any further instructions about how to conduct herself, so she assumed the rules were fairly loose here. Emilia rushed over to join her friends at an empty seat. ¡°Hey guys! It¡¯s good to see yall!¡±


    All three of the others bobbed their heads, though Max had resumed stuffing his face with a mass of meat and puff pastry in front of him. Betsy stood up and hugged Emilia before she sat, followed by Regina. When Max continued to stuff his mouth, Betsy elbowed him. ¡°What? This is good yall!¡±


    Rolling her eyes, she motioned for Emilia to sit. ¡°He¡¯s not wrong.¡± Betsy leaned into Emilia and shouted over the crowd. ¡°You met Boris. What do you think?¡±


    ¡°He reminds me of a nutty professor or something. Like he¡¯s barely keeping all of his notes and marbles together.¡±


    Regina snorted and nodded her head. ¡°Yeah, he seems a little touched or something, right?¡±


    Betsy said, ¡°I heard he¡¯s fantastically intelligent, like smarter than almost any other teacher.¡± She pointed to her own forehead. ¡°Apparently three-eyed ogre magi are supposed to be super geniuses.¡±


    ¡°Huh. I didn¡¯t know what he was. I did think ogres would make bad magicians, cause they wouldn¡¯t be that intelligent or whatever.¡±


    Regina nodded, but added. ¡°Ogre-magi work different. And a lot of stuff the legends say about the otherworlders is just wrong. Like goblins can be really smart and really strong, they just have way more variation from baseline than most races. And the smart or strong ones tend to end up as leaders.¡± She spoke with total conviction, to which Betsy rolled her eyes and waved at Regina.


    ¡°Don¡¯t mind her, she got into a bunch of advanced classes and likes to show off.¡±


    ¡°Advanced classes? Do you think they¡¯ll let me in those?¡± Emilia didn¡¯t feel particularly advanced, but she wanted to keep up with her friends.


    ¡°You opened the altar, right?¡± Betsy asked her question as if the answer were assumed. It added a dose of pain to Emilia¡¯s failure.


    ¡°No. I gave up.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± That got Max¡¯s attention, who asked his question through a mouthful of the pie. Regina and Betsy both froze in surprise at Emilia¡¯s reply.


    ¡°Yeah, really. What?¡± The looks her friends shot her made Emilia¡¯s skin crawl, like she¡¯d done something to earn Cynthia¡¯s ire back at the bookstore.


    ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ we all thought you¡¯d do it in one.¡± Regina answered for the others while Max returned to filling his mouth with pie.


    ¡°Thanks for the vote of confidence, I guess. Sorry to disappoint though.¡± Her friend¡¯s suprise colored the air and added weights to Emilia¡¯s shoulders that exacerbated her fatigue. To change the subject, Emilia said, ¡°how do we get food here?¡±


    At her question, a woman appeared dressed in an black and white tuxedo, complete with a tail and dark green vest. She displayed a platter to Emilia and plucked the lid away. A fat piece of meat pie sat in the center, dropping with sauce and with a small trencher of more sauce on the side.


    ¡°Thank you, ma¡¯am!¡± Emilia hardly noted her server¡¯s face as she stared at the pie.


    ¡°You are most welcome, madame.¡±


    The voice was unmistakable though, Emilia started and looked up at the woman serving food. This was Cary. ¡°Cary?! What are you doing here?¡± Emilia jumped up and hugged her wayward master and lover. ¡°Holy shit, I¡¯ve missed you.¡±


    Cary wilted under the contact, but still managed to bury her mouth beneath Emilia¡¯s hair, close to her ear. ¡°It is good to see you too, sweets. We need to keep the nature of our relationship circumspect here, though.¡± She pulled away from Emilia with a wink and an air-kiss. Then, like that, Cary faded into the crowd.


    Regina and Betsy all stared at Emilia as she turned back to the table. ¡°Pooh.¡± The pie didn¡¯t look quite as appetizing as before. When Cary had announced herself, Emilia her her hope rise that Cary might join them for dinner. But the fact she walked off without comment quashed her hope. The pie might not taste worse with Cary gone, but it wouldn¡¯t taste better.


    ¡°They sent her off to the servants¡¯ quarters, huh?¡± Regina asked as if she¡¯d expected it, but wasn¡¯t sure the administration would do that to Cary.


    ¡°Is that where all the demons go?¡± Cary poked at her pie, worried now that she wouldn¡¯t be able to spend as much time with Cary.


    Betsy and Regina shrugged, but Max blurted out, ¡°yup,¡± again, through a mouthful of food.


    Before Emilia could add anything to that, Betsy said, ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Em. I know it sucks.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Do you think it¡¯s for the full term or does that change later?¡± Emilia had all but lost her appetite, if not the growing pit in the center of her belly that demanded food.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    Emilia ate her pie, despite the balanced flavors and thick gravy, it tasted of ash and failure to her.

 Chapter 8 Cary - Lost in the stacks

    Cary did not mind the tuxedo, or serving food to the mortals. She had undertaken far more objectionable tasks working under Elelele. Nor did she mind the kitchen matron, Yorabeth and her gruff commands. She did not even mind the fact that the institute had set her to labor the day she arrived.


    However, Cary despised the fact that she was not permitted extended contact with Emilia. Grigo had relished assigning her a dingy room in one of the back closets of the demon tent. He had practically moaned in pleasure as he directed her to the kitchen for her work. But the smug way he had related the rule forbidding contact between magicians and their demonic servants had nearly been enough for Cary to pull the odious little Imp¡¯s head right off. In another life, she would not have given murdering him a second¡¯s consideration and carried it out with relish. But, according to Grigo, Emilia¡¯s evaluations depended in part on Cary¡¯s performance. If she killed Grigo, Cary bet the administration would mark Emilia down for the affront.


    It might still be worth it.


    Cary removed her tuxedo and set the rest of her server¡¯s wear into the appropriate laundry bin and slipped away from the kitchens as soon as she could. Yorabeth paid no attention to Cary¡¯s departure, the large demoness was too involved with ordering the kitchen Squills to finish cleaning to take note of her.


    Emilia had left the dining hall a few hours before Cary¡¯s shift ended. Despite the extra-dimensionality of the institute, she could still track Emilia through the grounds. Based on the the fact she had been stationary for the last two hours, Emilia had found her bedroom. Following the gentle tug at her center to Emilia was second nature to Cary, but navigating the foreign tent city was not.


    As a result, she missed the enrobed demoness lurking behind a tall white tent when she passed. ¡°Cary, right?¡±


    Cary stiffened and rose to her full height. ¡°Yes?¡±


    She turned and found the same Temptress from earlier, Esme, standing with her hands gripping her robe shut. ¡°You were in Grigo¡¯s office earlier, right?¡±


    Looking around, Cary nodded. She would rather not be caught out in the open here. In fact, as she studied the white tent where Esme had appeared, Cary felt certain that the Temptress had to have been waiting for her, or tracking her over the fields to catch Cary out like this. Cary said, ¡°Yes, I was in Grigo¡¯s office earlier. I arrived today and accepted my assignment from him.¡± Cary had also tried to choke this demoness out, in her place, Cary would have remembered herself, even without her perfect recollection.


    ¡°I am so sorry you had to witness our little tiff.¡± Esme stretched and released the sides of her robes. Where she¡¯d worn shear fabrics before, now Esme bared her entire body. Her plump breasts, wide hips, and spot of shock white hair in the center of her legs were all on full display. She closed with Cary, who scanned left and right quickly and darted out of the Temptress¡¯s grasp.


    ¡°What did you want?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I only wished to greet the newcomers and try to make them feel at home.¡± This time, Esme pushed her robes out of the way and over her shoulders. Not one stitch of clothing covered her body and an intense musk emanated from the woman. At the first whiff, Cary sealed her own nasal passages and glared at Esme.


    ¡°Thank you, but I am not interested.¡± She stepped into full view of the rest of the camp, but Esme followed.


    ¡°Oh, but I think you are. I can sense your lust and the interests of your heart.¡± Running a hand down her side, Esme rumbled at Cary. ¡°You prefer the feminine form, and none is more feminine than mine.¡±


    Gritting her teeth as the enchantment tried to collect over her mind, Cary brushed it away with an act of will. Esme mistook her for a mark, an easy target in which to provoke the Temptress lust. But Elelele had long since flogged such base weaknesses out of Cary. She might not have had much resistance to standard magics, but magical attractions as weak as Esme¡¯s wielded rolled off of Cary¡¯s mind like a light rainfall. It helped that Cary could seal her nose and mouth against the cloud of pheromones the Temptress exuded. ¡°Regardless of my basic attractions, you do not interest me.¡±


    At those words, Esme¡¯s eyes flashed with fury. Cary shifted her weight to her back foot as she prepared for the enraged Temptress to pounce on her. But then a masculine voice called out to them from the distance. Its nasal quality and the way it ground between Cary¡¯s eyes identified the speaker as Grigo. ¡°There you are my lovely wife!¡±


    With a quick motion, Esme flipped her robes closed and turned to face the Imp. ¡°Beloved! I am so pleased to see you here.¡±


    Cary studied the woman¡¯s expression and the set of her jaw. It would almost certainly prove useful to know how she lied.


    Grigo started when he glanced at Cary, as if he only had eyes for the voluptuous Temptress. ¡°You! What are you doing out here unescorted?¡±


    ¡°Oh beloved one, I caught her myself and was just informing her of her duties.¡± Esme bent down and kissed Grigo on the cheek. ¡°You want her in the library, do you not?¡±


    ¡°Right! Now that dinner is over, you need to shake your ass over to the archivists and report for duty there!¡± Cary could not tell if those orders had been Grigo¡¯s original intent or if Esme had suggested that course to him. The Temptress licked her lips and sneered at Cary, as if she had achieved vengeance for Cary¡¯s refusal. ¡°Hey, hop to! Your work is important, toots!¡±


    If I rip his head off, Emilia may suffer for it.


    Cary nodded to the two and walked away, in the direction the Imp had pointed. Only one squat brown tent lay in that direction. Its single peak rose barely taller than Cary¡¯s head and its canvas appeared to suffer for the lack of maintenance. Sighing as she grabbed the flap, she stepped into the tent.


    For a second, Cary couldn¡¯t move. Shock and pleasure ripped the nervous control from her muscles as she stared out at the short hall in which she stood. It proceeded forward only a few yards, but then gave way to a massive cylindrical chamber that rose to empyrean heights. Dozens upon dozens of dancing magical lights illuminated the room, but those only gave Cary the visual acuity to marvel at the sight.


    Every shelf, every surface of this place from the tables at the end of the hallway, contained a piece of writing material. Demons, otherworlders, and people floated by supported on wings or pillows where they wrote or read, absorbed by their craft. This was a treasure house of writing, the likes of which Elelele would have mortgaged his demiplane for, possibly for nothing more than a short glimpse into the wonders contained herein.


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    Cary¡¯s feet finally broke free from the shock of the place and she stumbled forward. Her mind reeled as floating researchers in the distance gave a sense of scale to the place. This was wider than two mortal football fields with hundreds, possibly thousands of short branches radiating out from the central hub. Her mouth went dry and she had to lick her lips to keep from having her mouth cemented together.


    Leaning against the shelf, Cary had to take a deep breath and pinch her skin to convince herself that she had not fallen asleep somewhere between the tongue lashing from Grigo and this library. The word might not fit this place truly. To encompass the grand scale of this building, of this dimension, Cary searched for a new word. Archive, athenaeum, none of them fit the grandeur and size of this vast repository of knowledge. Struggling with awe and her own lexical musings, Cary once again missed the approach of a creature right outside her field of view.


    ¡°Cary?¡± For a moment, Cary¡¯s ire rose in her gut as she thought she detected Esme¡¯s voice. Instead, Esme¡¯s twin Dorcas stood at the end of the row. Unlike the indecent Temptress, Dorcas wore the same conservative outfit she¡¯d worn in Grigo¡¯s office. She cocked her head and beckoned Cary forward. ¡°Master Alshin mentioned a new staff member would be joining us today. I didn¡¯t think it would be you!¡±


    It was the most enthusiasm Cary had seen from the Temptress. As if she had belatedly realized her own exuberance, Dorcas retreated into herself, lowering her head and mouthing words Cary was sure were intended as self-chastisement. The mannerisms tickled places deep within Cary¡¯s midsection; they reminded her of Emilia. Nonetheless, this woman was a Temptress, so Cary once again sealed her breathing passages against Dorcas¡¯s pheromonal discharge. Surprisingly, the Temptress did not release her cloud of attraction odors over Cary and simply waited for her to speak. The longer Cary remained silent, the most nervous and withdrawn Dorcas grew.


    ¡°Well, it is me indeed. And you work here too? I thought you were Grigo¡¯s secretary?¡± Cary smiled as she spoke, but Dorcas flushed a darker mauve at Cary¡¯s question.


    Frowning, Dorcas said, ¡°The¡­ little Imp requests me whenever he needs the services of someone from the Scriptorium.¡±


    Based on her pause, Dorcas stopped herself from saying something venomous about Grigo. In a way, it made her even cuter. ¡°Well, I am glad I got assigned here. What do you think Master Alshin will have me doing? Should I go speak to him now?¡±


    Dorcas smiled like a set of golden petals opening into the sun. ¡°Oh no, Master Alshin doesn¡¯t see anyone. He sent me to find you and make sure you didn¡¯t get lost in the stacks.¡±


    ¡°All right. Then lead the way, Ms Dorcas.¡± Cary bowed to the woman who blushed even deeper purple at the words.


    As enchanting as the Temptress was ¡ª purely figurative ¡ª the Scriptorium commanded Cary¡¯s attentions. She had never seen the like and drank it in, thankful for her perfect recall for one of the few times in her life.


    ¡°You¡¯re sincerely interested in this place?¡± Dorcas stopped along curve of the inner cylinder. If not for the fact that Cary watched her out of the corner of her eyes, she would have run into the Temptress when she stopped. The stutter step and wind-milling of her arms brought a small giggle from Dorcas, who covered her mouth at the sound.


    Blushing herself, Cary said, ¡°I¡¯ve truly never seen the like. In almost ten thousand years. This belongs to the Institute?¡±


    ¡°We share it the environs with several other organizations.¡± Rather than Dorcas¡¯s voice, a floatingball of cogs and wires answered Cary¡¯s question. It appeared as if from nowhere and bobbed next to the two women, hovering at the edge of the central library shaft. ¡°Welcome to my domain, Ms Cary. I am Master of the Scriptorium, Alshin.¡± The ball of parts rotated in space as if bowing to Cary.


    ¡°Thank you, Master Alshin. It is my sincere pleasure¡­¡±


    The ball cut her off. ¡°Oh, I¡¯ve overheard your conversation so far. According to Grigo¡¯s report, you possess an eidetic memory and a previous recollection of various magical texts?¡±


    ¡°That is right, Master Alshin.¡±


    At her affirmative response, the ball quivered in the air and glowed with a golden inner light. ¡°That is excellent to hear.¡± It spun as if to face Dorcas. ¡°Please have her head to the Archive and let¡¯s get a list of the texts this fascinating woman possesses by morning.¡± It turned back to Cary. ¡°Once again, it is a pleasure to have you join us. Be welcome.¡±


    The floating ball darted away. Once it had retreated a sufficient distance, Cary said, ¡°That was Master Alshin?¡±


    Dorcas shrugged, her color having returned to normal. ¡°As much as he appears, yes. Though, as I said, he does not receive guests. Based on my time here, he can perceive any event that occurs within the bounds of the Scriptorium.¡± Pointing to Cary, Dorcas grinned. ¡°You must have fascinated him. He¡¯d already told me to take you to the Archive, but he wanted to meet you himself.¡±


    ¡°I guess the perfect memory thing is not exactly common?¡±


    Shaking her head, Dorcas motioned for Cary to follow. ¡°Scholars debate whether or not such features exist outside of beings like Master Alshin and certain other Record Keepers such as digital devices or other artifice created to record data. And most of those are not intelligent enough to communicate on their own.¡±


    Cary nodded, only realizing belatedly how little experience she had in these matters. Her former master trained her memory without ever suggesting that Cary¡¯s ability was rare or precious. Of course, if he had informed her how valuable this skill was, it might have undermined his own torturous conditioning.


    Dorcas motioned down several arms of the Scriptorium, indicating storage areas, paper manufactories, and other library-adjacent facilities. From the size alone, Cary should have guessed this place held more than mere books. But until Dorcas pointed them out, Cary had not given the matter any thought. Between the distraction of the gentle Temptress and the sheer size of the Scriptorium, Cary had not imagined how much of the Scriptorium would be devoted to something other than book or scroll storage.


    As she pondered the scope of the place, an idea occurred to Cary for the first time. So far, she had managed to avoid letting anyone in the Institute from learning she could not use magic. Such a state of affairs would not last, could not last. But armed with the resources of this place, Cary might be able to discover what prevented her from using her magic, and possibly what Elelele had done to her that prevented her from shapeshifting.


    A skip added itself to Cary¡¯s stride as she raised her head and permitted herself a grin. Though much of her first few hours in this Institute had been filled with drudgery and the bother of obnoxious supervisors and traps from the other residents, the Scriptorium promised a solution to Cary¡¯s biggest problems.


    ¡°You seem happier, Ms Cary.¡± Dorcas lowered her head as she proffered her observation. ¡°Not that I, I mean¡­ I didn¡¯t mean to intrude.¡±


    Grinning, Cary waved her off. ¡°It just occurred to me that I could conduct some of my own research here. I had not thought of it until now.¡±


    Pressing her lips together, Dorcas¡¯s own smile lost a fraction of its size and Cary cursed herself for admitting her ambitions. ¡°Well, demons must obtain special permission to use the stacks.¡± Seeing how her news made Cary frown, Dorcas followed her warning up quickly. ¡°Not that such matters are difficult. I mean, Master Alshin is generous with permission to use the stacks. And you are performing a special service for the librarians and¡­¡±


    Cary held her hand up and shook her head. ¡°Thank you for letting me know. But don¡¯t worry about it. If I have to, I will find something Master Alshin values enough to let me conduct my own research. I am certain of it.¡±


    Squinting and bobbing her head, Dorcas said, ¡°Good. I didn¡¯t want to discourage you.¡± When she turned away from Cary, she hopped a short distance ¡°Oh, we¡¯re here!¡± Dorcas motioned to a tall wooden door with ill-fitted slats forming the surface. Flickering lights danced through the cracks between the planks of wood. ¡°This is the Scribe¡¯s chamber, welcome!¡±

 Chapter 9 Emilia - Die Fiend

    ¡°What¡¯s this place really like, Bets?¡± Emilia sat on the side of her bed wearing her nightclothes. One of the many gifts she¡¯d received from Papa Butch had included a pair of pajamas. They were dark purple and covered with gold star designs whose threads had a velvety texture entirely unlike the rest of the fabric.


    ¡°It¡¯s amazing, Em.¡± Betsy threw herself back against her mattress and flung her arms out. ¡°I can¡¯t believe that Cynthia had us terrified of the Cabal for so long. Can you imagine how different things would have been if they¡¯d caught us earlier?¡±


    Emilia considered it. As much as the idea tempted her, would she have met Cary this way? What about Regina? Would Betsy, Max and her have been as close as they were now? The thought of the rest of her friends and Cary made Emilia chafe with the idea that she wouldn¡¯t be free to see Cary whenever she wanted. ¡°Why won¡¯t they let me see Cary?¡±


    Betsy turned over and faced Emilia. ¡°You fell in love with her, didn¡¯t you?¡±


    Emilia opened her mouth and shut it. She wasn¡¯t going to lie to Betsy, not on their first night together as roommates. ¡°I¡­ think so, Bets. It¡¯s hard not to think about her, after the last month, after the plane, I miss her already.¡±


    ¡°Gods, you¡¯re in the deep smit.¡± Betsy pressed her index finger against her nose. ¡°I almost pity you. Have you told Cary what you think of her yet?¡±


    Fire blazed over Emilia¡¯s cheeks. ¡°No. Do you think I should?¡±


    Shrugging Betsy buried her hands under her pillows. ¡°You said you think you love her, right? Until you know, you should keep your trap shut about it. And don¡¯t lead her on.¡±


    ¡°Why does that sound like advice born of experience?¡±


    Betsy snorted. ¡°Emilia Olren, you know everything there is to know about me. Do you think I could keep a secret like a lover from you?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not really an answer to my question, is it?¡±


    This time, Betsy laughed. ¡°Think what you want, but if you find yourself in love with Cary, tell her as soon as you can.¡±


    ¡°Why¡¯d you say it like that?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s a demoness.¡± Betsy said it like that was all she needed to say to end the discussion.


    ¡°Why does that matter?¡±


    ¡°She doesn¡¯t think like a human, like a mortal. If you refuse to devote yourself to her, if you make her think you don¡¯t really love her, she¡¯ll move on before you realize it.¡±


    Again, the words sounded like Betsy had a personal experience with the matter. Or she¡¯d conducted her own investigations into the topic. ¡°I¡¯ll¡­ remember that. Thanks Bets¡± The urge to change the subject overwhelmed Emilia. ¡°So about classes here. What are they like?¡±


    ¡°Brilliant diversion.¡± Betsy winked at Emilia and made a little finger gun motion. ¡°They¡¯re just like school. Less homework and more practical stuff, I guess?¡±


    ¡°That sounds¡­ kind of amazing.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I should add that they¡¯re making me take correspondence school until I get my GED. That part is a shit ton of homework. But since you¡¯ve already graduated, I¡¯d imagine your classes will be more like what Regina does. All practicums and magical exercises.¡± Betsy rolled onto her back and pointed at Emilia with both of her hands. ¡°Now I need to sleep to be ready for tomorrow, you should do the same.¡±


    ¡°Goodnight Bets.¡± Emilia paused and nodded to herself as the lights in their room blinked out. ¡°Thanks for all that stuff.¡±


    ¡°Of course, it¡¯s what best friends are for.¡±


    Emilia could feel Cary¡¯s presence, like someone pulling a hair attached to her midsection. At first, she tried to ignore the steady drag. But after so many nights spent next to each other in the darkness, Emilia found it hard to sleep without Cary nearby.


    When she rose, Betsy had already started to snore. Her legs twitched in the darkness, which looked almost as bright as day to Emilia. The twitching was a sure sign Betsy had fallen asleep. She¡¯d been known to fake the snoring, but never the wild leg jumping.


    Slipping out of their dorm room was easy, someone kept the hinges well oiled. The old stone walls of the dorm hallways watched Emilia pad out of the room on nearly silent feet. With her hearing enhanced as it was, she could detect the whisper passage of her clothing. She could seek out a foundation for her treads that left no auditory signifier of her movement.


    Ninja.


    Emilia smiled to herself with the thought. Silence wrapped around her as she reached the door to the dorm tent. As with most of the buildings in the academy, the dorms occupied an alternate dimension who¡¯s only entrance led from a humble canvas flap. Opening the wooden door at the end of the hall opened the flap and led outside into the darkness of late night.


    The tether that bound Emilia to Cary led her toward a brown tent. As she passed over the well-trod grass, Emilia puffed out her chest with pride in the fact that she¡¯d avoided anyone else so perfectly.


    ¡°Formless one, is that you?¡± A liquid voice, heavy with rolling r¡¯s and deep with liquid consonants stopped Emilia in her tracks. As she moved by a narrow tent, she¡¯d passed a blind spot. The woman who¡¯d addressed her was a tall demoness with curled horns and wearing a large black robe. ¡°Oh, bother. A mortal.¡± The woman favored Emilia with a flat, disinterested stare. ¡°But you have a link to the Formless One, don¡¯t you? Is she your servant?¡±


    Sleek arms poked out from the blackened depths of the robes and the scent of lilac and heather washed over Emilia. Suddenly she felt compelled to answer the demoness¡¯s questions. Though she recognized the demoness¡¯s type, Emila¡¯s brain refused to supply the word. She answered automatically, with nary a thought to the stranger¡¯s intentions. ¡°Nope.¡±


    ¡°Nope?¡± Walking forward with a languid sway to her hips, the demoness closed with Emilia. ¡°Nope huh? Tell me, how are you connected to her then?¡±


    Emilia couldn¡¯t tell this woman, this¡­ what kind of demon was she? Shaking her head, Emilia said, ¡°she¡¯s my friend.¡± Or were they lovers? Emilia wanted to be forthcoming with this demoness, but at the same time, she refused to divulge the dangerous secret she and Cary held from the teachers here. Her mind created a modicum of space where she could think and answer at the same time.


    ¡°Just a friend?¡± The demoness parted her robes to reveal a fully nude body. Emilia licked her lips at the sight, only the second time she¡¯d ever seen another naked woman in her life. ¡°Or perhaps something more?¡± Every step this demoness took thrummed through Emilia¡¯s brain. As she brought her body a step from Emilia, embarrassment roared in Emilia¡¯s mind. Shame broke a tiny portion of the demon¡¯s spell.


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    ¡°Temptress.¡± The demoness blinked and pulled back a fraction at Emilia¡¯s words.


    ¡°What did you say.¡± She raised her hand to cup Emilia¡¯s cheek. But by then it was too late for whatever the Temptress had planned.


    Papa Butch and Cary¡¯s training asserted itself with a body-shaking force. Emilia rocked back on her heels, and caught the demoness¡¯s hand as she started to fall. As she did, her Consumption rose in a defensive reaction against the magic the Temptress had tried to use against Emilia.


    Wind rose about them as Emilia¡¯s power shoved itself into the Temptress¡¯s ¡ª Esme¡¯s ¡ª core. It stole away both of their words as Emilia unleashed the full fury of her talent. She could taste Esme¡¯s bitter, vindictive soul. Cary had done something to her earlier, something that tweaked this demon¡¯s nose enough to exact revenge though Emilia.


    Disclosure of such nefarious ends enraged Emilia. This woman had been trying to steal her will. Her voice returned with a gasp and Emilia took a step toward the demoness, ¡°how dare you!?¡± What started as an autonomic probe turned into a rage-filled assault from Emilia¡¯s power. She drank from the Temptress center of power, pulling out fragments of the demon¡¯s magic as she did. Almost as bad as trying to snatch away Emilia¡¯s will, the demoness had been trying to hurt Cary.


    With a thought, Emilia intended to end this evil bitch.


    At last the Temptress screamed as Emilia¡¯s power dug into her. It filled Emilia with thoughts and memories, snippets of Esme¡¯s recent past. Cary had grabbed her by the throat and squeezed hard enough that the Temptress thought she would die under Cary¡¯s hand. Then she¡¯d accosted Cary this very night, and attempted to use her alluring magic to take control over Cary¡¯s mind.


    ¡°Die fiend.¡± Emilia¡¯s voice sounded harsh, gravely to her ears as she began to draw away not just Esme¡¯s magic, but her very life force. A swirling tornado of power and lights surrounded Emilia and Esme and lit the night.


    Esme¡¯s scream turned to one of wailing despair as something stabbed Emilia in the back. It rocked against her skin and she turned to regard it with disdain. A small blade, no bigger than her pinky jutted from her side and a fur-covered man who stood a head taller than Emilia¡¯s knees shouted at her, but the sound couldn¡¯t reach Emilia from the maelstrom of magic surrounding her. With an act of will, she pulled the knife out. In her whole life, she¡¯d barely ever mastered such a magical feat, but with Esme¡¯s power bubbling through it, moving the blade and snapping it midair was as easy for Emilia as flexing her toes.


    The tiny fur-covered man opened his mouth and a small gout of power flooded over Emilia. Papa Butch and Cary had instilled the knowledge of protective wards into Emilia and made them second nature. With a flick of her head, the breath of power streaming diverged harmlessly into the Earth.


    Emilia found the bottom of Esme¡¯s incredible reservoir of power, the end of her life force. Fury from the second attack and from Esme¡¯s attempted violation sealed the Temptress¡¯s fate in Emilia¡¯s mind. She locked her fingers into hooks and took hold of that last thread of power.


    A ringing noise stopped Emilia in her tracks, the final thread of Esme¡¯s life clinging to her nails. She turned just in time to see Joshua and a second magician pointing clockwork wands at her. Before she could respond with a new protective spell, yellow-white jets of ephemeral flame washed over her. This time the magic took, sinking into her bones through her skin and dropping Emilia into a shaking pile on the turf.


    Letting go of Esme¡¯s life angered Emilia and let the Temptress live. Irritation that Esme survived was the last thing through Emilia¡¯s mind as she dropped unconscious.


    ¡°It is a fine thing that you did not try to rip the stone altar from the testing open with such force.¡±


    Emilia stirred at the sound of the voice. It¡¯s tone came to her, vaguely familiar has she clawed her way back to consciousness. Aside from the minor headache, Emilia felt surprisingly good, considering she could only metaphorically move her body. Something wholly restrained her. The fact she was trapped brought her eyes open with a start. ¡°What? Who¡¯s there?¡±


    She had to blink her eyes for several seconds before she could make out the form of Master Boris. ¡°Ms Olren. How do you feel?¡±


    ¡°Let me go!¡± It was too close to what Cynthia had done to her, too close to what Samantha had done. Magical bonds held Emilia in place and refused to allow her to move more than to breathe and use her head. ¡°Let me fucking go!¡± her body convulsed against the bonds, stretching and buckling like the victim of possession from a late night film. ¡°Let me go now!¡± Emilia screamed herself hoarse as Boris spoke in even tones. Nothing he said registered to Emilia until her voice wore itself out.


    ¡°Please calm down. We need to make sure you are not in danger and won¡¯t endanger others, Ms Olren. Please relax.¡±


    Notably, at least to Emilia¡¯s panicked mind, Boris did not try to affect her with any further magic. ¡°Then let me out, please?¡± her own voice sounded ragged, as if she¡¯d taken up smoking.


    ¡°That¡¯s better, breathe for a moment Ms Olren and tell me what you remember.¡±


    Boris gave her the way out of these bonds. With that tiny thread of possibility, Emilia could pull herself out of the well of panic and despair. ¡°The Temptress, Esme, tried to use her magic to capture my mind¡­¡±


    Boris sighed and shook his head. ¡°Did you attack her first, please be specific.¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡± Emilia shook her head. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to attack her. She tried to control my mind with her scent, with her magic. She closed with me and when I tried to stumble away, I accidentally grabbed her. When I touched her I saw what she¡¯d been trying to do.¡±


    Boris pressed his lips together for a moment. ¡°And?¡±


    ¡°And then the Consumption rose. Will you please let me go?¡±


    ¡°That depends, Ms Olren. Do you intend to attack anyone else?¡±


    ¡°I defended myself. So no, as long as no one tries to hurt me or control my mind¡­ I don¡¯t want to hurt anyone, Master Boris.¡±


    He nodded his head and stood. ¡°The young lady speaks nothing but the truth. And as expected, the demoness cut her truth quite thin. I suggest we free her as she asks and bring Ms Esme back in for extended questioning.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t have my wife near those two psychos. I want them sequestered from her!¡± A squeaky voice made demands as it bored its way into Emilia¡¯s skull.


    Joshua said, ¡°fine Master Grigo. Both Ms Olren and Ms Cary will be kept away from the two of you. Master Alshin has already expressed an interest in the demon.¡±


    ¡°Good! Then I am done here!¡± The voice that belonged to ¡°Grigo¡± retreated before he was done with his words. ¡°Good riddance!¡± As soon as the sound of his heavy breathing faded, the bonds around Emilia did as well.


    With the forces holding her still gone, Emilia could sit up and look around. Boris, Joshua, and an attractive woman with golden dragonfly wings sat in a semi-circle around Emilia. Boris raised an eyebrow as Emilia scrambled away from them and Joshua sighed. The fairy woman tilted her head to the side and said, ¡°someone has wounded this poor little mortal birdie. Her wings do not work and she cannot tell friend from foe.¡± As the woman spoke, Emilia turned to face her, to make sure that none of the people around her stood at her back. The fairy woman straightened her head and, without moving the rest of her body, said, ¡°We will not harm you little bird. We do not injure those who come to us. Unless it is absolutely necessary.¡±


    Those last five words caused Emilia¡¯s jaw to clench and pushed her back against the stone wall behind her. ¡°Is it necessary?¡±


    The woman¡¯s laugh was high-pitched and tittering. Though Emilia could focus on her wings and her eyes, those golden hued orbs glowed as they regarded Emilia, she found she could not focus on the woman¡¯s features. If Emilia met her again in different circumstances, she wasn¡¯t certain she would recognize her. ¡°It is not, little bird. For you have spoken the truth before us and you have broken none of our Laws.¡±


    ¡°Laws? What laws?¡±


    At that question the woman¡¯s expression turned sour as she faced Boris. ¡°Why has she not been briefed and instructed as to how to conduct herself among us?¡±


    Joshua turned red from embarrassment, but Boris just raised his opened palms in a shrug. ¡°She arrived this afternoon. We, uh, only conducted her testing this evening. Her orientation is scheduled for tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°And yet she was attacked while under our care and forced to defend herself. Perhaps in the future we should bump the orientation up to the first day?¡± They held a conversation among them about Emilia without including her. It rankled, but she was still too intimidated by these people to complain aloud.As if the woman could understand her thoughts, she turned to Emilia and said, ¡°I too find it frustrating when I am not included in conversations regarding my own fate. We owe you an apology, Ms Olren. Your instructors should have informed you about the dangers of our little community and about how best to avoid certain instinctive predators. But as I said before, you have done nothing wrong.¡± Emilia nodded, still too nervous to speak with the woman addressing her directly. ¡°Let¡¯s adjourn for now. Joshua, please escort Ms Olren back to her room.¡± The golden woman nodded in Emilia¡¯s direction. ¡°Ms Olren, I am sorry you had to suffer the burden of our oversight. I hope the rest of your night is peaceful.¡±

 Chapter 10 Cary - Not Exactly Common

    Nine thousand years. It had been at least that long since Cary¡¯s arm had cramped from mere writing. Unlike the first time, Cary¡¯s penmanship was excellent. After all, Elelele had made her suffer until he found her cursive flawless. And unlike the first time her hand cramped up on her, Cary felt wonderful as she stretched her wrist and let the bones and tendons relax. She¡¯d scribbled out half a volume of magical secrets, starting with the earliest she could remember.


    Alshin¡¯s floating mechanical orb gave her positive feedback, cooing over the magical spells she recorded for his benefit. Elelele could learn something of motivation from the chief archivist. Not only was Cary happy to write these spells down for the Scriptorium¡¯s benefit, but she actually looked forward to the next session of writing.


    She could not tell how much time had passed when a boulder of referred agony struck her right in the middle of her gut, where her Hara lay. Emilia was in trouble. Cary shot up from her desk, excusing herself from Alshin, who didn¡¯t try to stop her. Good for him, he was one of the first leaders of the community Cary had not wanted to behead every time he spoke.


    Dorcas rose when Cary did. ¡°Is something wrong?¡±


    ¡°Yes, my mortal¡­¡± Cary almost said, ¡°servant,¡± but managed to swallow the word. ¡°My mortal is in danger. I can feel it.¡± She grabbed Dorcas¡¯s hand, but suddenly the Temptress doubled over and grabbed her own midsection. ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    Rather than speak, Dorcas waved Cary away and fell into her chair. As much as she liked the Temptress, Cary¡¯s loyalties belonged fully to Emilia. She rushed up through the library as power flared over the link between her and Emilia. Incredible energy flooded into Cary, heady and massive enough a flow as to force Cary to lean against a nearby shelf before she could move her legs again. With the torrent of Prajna swirling in her, Cary moved faster than a gazelle on the hoof. Her memory supplied the path to the Scriptorium¡¯s exit, but the long winding path took forever to cross.


    Before Cary cleared the doorway, the energy flow abruptly stopped. Somewhere out in the camp, Emilia passed out, though Cary could not tell if it was from an overload of power or from an attack. It chilled her bones as she roared through the library door, cursing herself for letting Emilia out of her sight for one evening, considering the danger the mortal lived with during every second of her life.


    Imaging Cynthia or the remnants of Samanta¡¯s sorceress flock besieging the camp outside, she found Boris and Joshua standing over Emilia¡¯s crumpled body. Joshua bent over to touch Emilia and Cary¡¯s roar shocked them both out of their present activities.


    ¡°Cary, stop!¡± Joshua and another similarly dressed magician brandished a wand at Cary while the doddering old Ogre-magi, Boris, next to him blinked at Cary as if shocked by her appearance and fury.


    Faced with unknown magic and an equally unknown situation, Cary forced herself to slow. ¡°What happened, Joshua?¡±


    To his credit, he did not pause. ¡°Emilia was attacking Esme when we arrived. We need to help her and you will only get in the way.¡± The way he said the last four words formed a warning to Cary.


    The fallen form of Esme lay atop the turf, unmoving. Only after lengthy study could Cary tell the Temptress yet lived. ¡°What did she do to Emilia?¡± It was an obvious conclusion for Cary: Esme tried to attack Emilia, likely with her natural powers, and Emilia responded in kind.


    Joshua shook his head. ¡°This is not the time. Please stand back or Emilia could be in further trouble.¡±


    Cary dug her nails into the palm of her hand. Unlike her first meeting with Joshua, he had the drop on her, with two wands separated by yards trained on her. They had Emilia between them and as much as Cary disdained Boris, she knew better than to underestimate him. Not only were they stronger and generally more powerful than their Ogre brethren, they were universally intelligent and mighty magic users. The fact this one had responded to Emilia¡¯s attack suggested he held some kind of leadership role.


    Grigo stood over Esme¡¯s fallen body bawling his eyes out and only noticed Cary when she stopped moving. ¡°You bitch! Your filthy human tried to murder my precious wife! I will fucking kill you!¡± To everyone¡¯s surprise, he actually charged Cary, a ball of magic forming in his palm as he did so.


    Without so much as a blink, Cary shifted to her stone form to absorb the magical attack and teach the little Imp a lesson about her. When the green ball shot from his palm, Cary dodged it with incredible speed, moving like mercury shaken in a vial. She could tell her speed had been augmented by the power Emilia accidentally poured into her.


    Grigo did not stop when his spell failed to connect. He raised a fist and grew in size as he struck at Cary. She side-stepped the overhand blow and backhanded the now eight-foot Imp casually, as if he were a wind chime who¡¯s tone Cary tested. Her back foot sank into the soil as Grigo¡¯s giant form achieved liftoff under the force of Cary¡¯s strike. He bounced twice and rolled onto his back as his shape change reverted.


    At that point, the crowd watching exploded into motion. Joshua shook his head at Cary. Boris finally collected his wits about him. He made a swift motion with his fingers and shouted with a loud voice. ¡°Stop!¡± Every figure within earshot, Cary included, froze mid-motion. A few people, who were mid-stride, fell over as their muscles seized. ¡°I will forcibly transform the next creature to perform a violent act into something incredibly foul-smelling and unpleasant!¡± Again, Boris¡¯s voice protected as if through a microphone.


    Only Joshua and his wand-wielding companion remained unaffected by Boris¡¯s spell. Joshua lifted Emilia up while his companion did the same with Esme.


    ¡°What are they doing with them?¡± Cary still couldn¡¯t move, though the effects of the Ogre-magi¡¯s spell had started to fade.


    ¡°They are taking both to answer questions, demon.¡±


    ¡°I want to go with them.¡± Cary struggled against the fading spell and found she still could not move her legs or most of her body below her neck.


    ¡°Noted.¡± Boris shook his head as Joshua and the other member of the Cabal lugged Esme and Emilia away. ¡°But that will not be allowed at this time. When the queen has concluded her investigation, you will be permitted to see your master, depending on the outcome of her judgement.¡±


    Cary snarled impotently, unable to do anything more than twitch her body under the effects of Boris¡¯s magic. The Ogre-magi noted her struggles and raised an eyebrow, but scurried away after Joshua before Cary managed to free herself.


    Regardless of what Boris or the other authorities of the Sanctorum said, Cary intended to follow and see Emilia. The moment she could move, she chased down the trail left by the thread between them. When she reached the end of the thread, Cary found nothing. From the tugging at her center, she knew Emilia was close by; she should have stood right before Cary. But no amount of sniffing at the sight or prowling about revealed her mortal servant.


    Anger surged through Cary. The explanation was obvious to her: the tents the administrators of the sanctorum used did not need to permit entrance from the outside. She did not run into a hidden structure or tangle herself in the supporting lines, which meant they had shifted the entire tent to an alternate realm. Without her magic, Cary would never break through and find Emilia.


    Despair clenched its fingers around Cary¡¯s stone heart and squeezed until cracks formed. She should have slain Esme when the Temptress first tried to use her powers on her. She should have taken Grigo aside and explained to the foul little Imp which of them belonged to infernal royalty and why he should never cross her. Cary had been so worried about her actions getting Emilia kicked out of the Sanctorum that she hadn¡¯t considered that the small group of enemies Cary had made on day one could do the job themselves.


    Cary was not crying. Only fools and the weak cried in the midst of their despair. The tears that flowed from her eyes belonged to another demoness, another lost statue torn from her socket in the wall and forced into the mortal world.


    Sniffling and wiping her eyes, Cary sought after something she could do. The answer came to her as naturally as recording the ambient sounds around her: return to the Scriptorium and pursue an answer to her lost magic, her lost powers of shapeshifting.


    The other denizens of the camp had left Cary with a wide circle of avoidance. None of them wished to incur her wrath, or interrupt her mourning. Wise decisions there. But one of the residents lurked at the periphery of the tents, just in sight of Cary and her weeping.


    Rage blossomed anew in her chest at the sight: Dorcas. Cary stalked after the Temptress, giving free rein to the fury she had been unable to expel through tears.


    As Cary opened her mouth to castigate Dorcas, the Temptress narrowed her eyes and frowned. ¡°What has my evil bitch of a twin done this time?¡± All thought of venting her frustration and anger on Dorcas faded. Cary stumbled forward and Dorcas gasped. ¡°Oh sweet Boundary. Was it something bad? Are you okay, Cary? Please tell me she didn¡¯t hurt you.¡±


    Stolen story; please report.


    Dorcas had a sweet scent, utterly unlike her twin. It made Cary think of bees dancing in a glade, free of any concerns or worries, dusted with pollen and honey as they frolicked. She managed to choke out an answer to Dorcas¡¯s question. ¡°Not me, Emilia.¡±


    ¡°Oh sweet Boundary, I am so sorry, Cary.¡± Dorcas half carried her through the fields. When they passed into a tent, Cary did not even take note of which one they had entered. ¡°Here, have some tea. It will calm your nerves.¡± Wariness rose in Cary¡¯s mind, she had not forgetting her first dalliance with mortal beverages and the way she had been drugged. She sniffed at the drink, eyeing Dorcas as she did. The Temptress rolled her eyes and snatched the cup away from Cary. ¡°I am not my sister. Here.¡± She took a hearty swallow of the tea and opened her dainty, fanged mouth to show Cary that she had indeed swallowed the drink. ¡°I am not my vicious little twin. Do you want to tell me what happened? Is¡­ Emilia okay?¡±


    At the mention of her name, Cary grabbed the cup of tea back and downed the entire cup in a few swigs. ¡°She is alive. But I do not know what will happen now.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s why you ran out of the Scriptorium, right?¡±


    Cary nodded. ¡°Your twin is why you doubled over, right?¡±


    Dorcas sighed. ¡°We are power-linked twins. When Esme uses her powers, I can sense it. When she is injured, I can sense it too. Thankfully, injuries do not pass between us, only the sensation.¡±


    ¡°Why do you say it like that?¡± Cary had a feeling Dorcas had been specific with her words.


    ¡°Because I felt Esme almost die a few minutes before I found you. I assume Emilia stuck back on account of Esme¡¯s attempt to influence her.¡±


    Cary nodded, suddenly relieved at Dorcas¡¯s information. ¡°You mean Esme tried something on Emilia first?¡±


    ¡°Based on the order of events, yes. I felt Esme flex her powers and then a short time later, she was struck by a powerful magical force.¡±


    ¡°Can you describe it?¡± Hope had sprouted in Cary¡¯s chest and she needed the tender roots property nurtured.


    ¡°Yes, it was as if an empty, craven power drained first her magical energy, her Prajna, and then her life.¡±


    Nodding, Cary was sure Dorcas had told her something like that before, but her mind had grown muddled for the first time in millennia, other than her drugging in the mortal bar. Checking her mental state, Cary realized that she¡¯d panicked when she thought Emilia was in danger. Sitting here with Dorcas, her mind was as clear as it got, so she hadn¡¯t been drugged again. With that self-examination concluded, Cary felt the hope she had ignored bloom into a full shrub. Emilia had struck back at Esme¡¯s power, which made sense considering the trauma Emilia had faced at Samantha and Cynthia¡¯s hands.


    The fact that Esme had renewed that trauma, forced Emilia to relive a portion of it, made Cary clench her fists. If she encountered Esme again, Cary would snap her neck.


    ¡°What are you thinking? Your face shifted from grief to¡­ satisfaction. Is Emilia okay?¡± Dorcas earnestly appeared to desire the best for Emilia. The concern written across her face drew Cary to the Temptress more thoroughly than any magical enticement. But she restrained herself for now.


    ¡°I am thinking that Emilia almost killed your sister. In fact, I suspect that she is lucky the instructors intervened or Esme would be dead.¡±


    ¡°How?¡±


    Cary took a deep breath. Before too long, the nature of Emilia¡¯s power was sure to make the camp rounds. The question was whether Cary wanted to be the one who provided the information or if she wanted to leave the task to someone else. Better to get ahead of the news and let people know the truth rather than let the rumor mill generate lies about Emilia. ¡°She possesses the Consumption. Your sister made a huge mistake attacking my¡­ attacking Emilia.¡± Cary wasn¡¯t about to divulge their secret, even to Dorcas. She wanted to trust the Temptress, but to do so this early was foolish. Besides, Dorcas¡¯s very nature made her untrustworthy for several reasons.


    Dorcas processed Cary¡¯s answer and blinked at her. ¡°That¡¯s not exactly common.¡±


    ¡°No, it is not. And she does not possess a minor version of the power.¡±


    ¡°I felt it. I can¡­ imagine.¡± Dorcas put a finger on her cheek. ¡°I guess that explains how she managed to bind a demoness as old as yourself. And with your unique powers.¡±


    Cary nodded, unwilling to directly lie to the Temptress right now. ¡°Where are we?¡± It spoke volumes of her mental state that Cary only noticed their surroundings now. The room was covered in quaint decor, from a hand-sewn quilt on the wall to the pastel colors that trimmed the eggshell walls. The carpet was a thick pile of pale pink. It would stain something fierce, but Cary could not find the slightest blemish on the surface. They said at a dainty little table, just large enough for two people to sit. It had round metal legs, polished metal trim and a plastic top with floral patterns under a heavy layer of varnish. The table¡¯s top matched the fine china dishes Dorcas used to serve tea. Cary knew the answer from the bed nearby and from the way Dorcas had lain her overcoat on the rack near the door.


    ¡°It¡¯s my room.¡± No longer fussing over Cary, Dorcas had reverted to her shy, reserved persona. Though this was he room, she dropped her gaze and forced herself to study the floor. ¡°I pray you do not consider my¡­ bringing you here unseemly. This was the only place where we could find some privacy. Is that okay?¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡± Cary forced herself to remain seated rather than stand and investigate the Temptress¡¯s room. Her experience with Dorcas¡¯s variety of demon was thin. But she had imagined that they all lived in some modification of a sex-dungeon with chains attached to the ceiling and torture devices in lieu of furniture. Dorcas¡¯s room was almost paradoxically neat and free of the expected accoutrement.


    Perhaps that only meant she hid her tools in case guests visited. But judging from the size of the room and the absence of an obvious crawl space or closet, Cary did not believe Dorcas matched her own expectations.


    Dark from blushing, Dorcas jumped up and scurried over to a small stovetop range. It only had two burners and a tiny space for an oven. But the paint had been rubbed off the nobs in places, so the stove had seen regular use. Humming to herself, Dorcas heated up a second pot of tea. She kept her gaze carefully focused on the pot and stove, as if it protected her from glancing at Cary and¡­ feeling whatever disturbed her so.


    Cary had assumed the Temptress was interested in her. But the possibility that the Temptress resented her or otherwise had some problem with Cary also existed. Arrogance led Cary to assume Dorcas behaved like an adolescent. As a result of identifying her own assumptions, Cary focused on Dorcas and her movements.


    The woman¡¯s humming was soothing, and suggested she had an equally pleasant voice. As far as Cary knew, Dorcas had never attempted to user her powers on her. The resemblance between Dorcas and Esme was complete, but Dorcas went out of her way to style her hair differently and probably never wore a robe that could be brushed aside with a gesture to expose her nude body. Dorcas wore too many layers for that to ever be a possibility anyway.


    When Dorcas turned and noticed Cary¡¯s persistent stare, she hopped and gave a tiny squeak. ¡°Did I do something wrong?¡±


    Cary had never developed a special ability to judge people. Without the link between them, she would never have been able to unravel Emilia¡¯s thoughts or feelings. As much as she had suspected Dorcas of some kind of perfidy, Cary could not believe a creature with such reactions could possess a vindictive or cruel streak.


    With a sigh and a grin, Cary leaned back in her chair and said, ¡°you have done nothing wrong. Do you mind if I have some more tea?¡±


    Cary spent the next hour chatting with Dorcas and trying to confirm or deny her impression of the gentle Temptress. The longer she spent with Dorcas, the more Cary was forced to conclude she lacked a single nasty bone in her body. She clearly despised her sister, Dorcas made no bones about that. But she also never spoke directly ill of her, as if even though she loathed her, she couldn¡¯t bring herself to bad mouth her family.


    Dorcas had just set down their third pot of tea when Cary felt Emilia¡¯s position change. Jumping up without warning, Cary elicited a new squeak from Dorcas.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong, Cary?¡± When she recovered, she managed a question.


    ¡°Emilia is being moved. I want to go find her.¡±


    Dorcas tilted her head. ¡°You love her.¡±


    Cary¡¯s face burned, but rather than admit her feelings, feelings which Emilia had not yet expressed herself, Cary only shrugged. ¡°I should go. Do you want to come with me?¡±


    Biting her lip, Dorcas shook her head. ¡°I don¡¯t want to interfere. Thank you though.¡±


    Cary delivered a lightning quick peck on Dorcas¡¯s cheek and said, ¡°No, thank you for the tea and the company. You really helped me settle my mind. Wish me luck and a safe¡­ companion.¡±


    Dorcas nodded, oblivious to Cary¡¯s hesitation and near-slip. As she rushed out of the short hallway, Cary noted that despite her earlier despondency, she could easily retrace her steps. Once outside of the extra-dimensional space, Cary tore a furrow into the grounds as she charged after Emilia.


    Joshua and Emilia walked side-by-side through the grounds, toward a pale green tent. Anxiety that had clung about her shoulders for the last hour finally let go of Cary as she spotted Emilia walking on her own. It meant she was safe and healthy, uninjured. She wasn¡¯t crying or upset, as far as Cary could tell and that meant she had not been expelled from the Sanctorum.


    Emilia grabbed her midsection and turned to find Cary before she managed to pounce on her. ¡°I am happy to find you well¡­ Emilia.¡± Cary swallowed and hugged Emilia rather than name her, ¡°my love.¡± Though Cary only knew of mortal mating habits from Emilia¡¯s memories and binge-watching television, she knew that such an initial profession of love should stay private, shared only between the two involved.


    ¡°Oh my Gods, I¡¯m so happy to see you!¡± Emilia returned Cary¡¯s hug and, from the contact, Cary could tell that Emilia¡¯s mental state was much closer to calm than she would have suspected.


    ¡°You are okay? I arrived after you both¡­ the Temptress and you were already unconscious.¡±


    Emilia stepped away with her hand over her mouth. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry you had to see that. She¡­ she tried to mind control me¡­¡±


    Joshua, bless his little mortal heart, declined to interrupt Emilia and Cary¡¯s reunion or Emilia¡¯s recollection of the events. Cary remained quiet while doing so, but she also reviewed Emilia¡¯s memories directly. Once she spotted what the Temptress had done, she found a new reason to send Papa Butch a bushel of roses and bars of gold. His lessons preserved Emilia agains the Temptress¡¯s mental influence and let her muster her magic for a counter-attack.


    ¡°I am sorry you have to go through that, it is my duty to protect you.¡±


    Joshua cleared his throat with a fist over his mouth. The sound made Cary and Emilia turn to face him as one. ¡°About that. Though I cannot speak for the council, I do not believe that you will be allowed to remain together, especially now.¡±


    Cary¡¯s voice turned icy and her stance lowered. ¡°If you told them¡­¡±


    Raising his hands, Joshua shook his head. ¡°I maintain my oath, demon. But now you both will be seen as too powerful considering Emilia¡¯s lack of control. Whether she intended to or not, she almost slew Esme, a major demoness in her own right. The council would be foolish to ignore the potential risks you pose, Emilia.¡± Joshua made a movement in the air with his hands and the sounds from the rest of the camp faded away. ¡°And I would offer you both two pieces of advice: do not seek retribution against Esme or Grigo. And do not allow the council to learn the true nature of your link. Boris may seem doddering, but he is no fool. A demoness and a magician in your circumstances would be considered too dangerous to remain here.¡± Joshua moved his hands again. ¡°Do you both understand me?¡±


    Cary and Emilia nodded, both staring at the other through the sides of their eyes. After he let them hug and whisper to each other again, Joshua escorted Emilia off to her dorm room. Though she had spent thousands of years by herself spying on the unaware masses, Cary had never felt so alone in her life.

 Chapter 11 The Fae Queen - Interlude I

    ¡°The court of S¡¯ha Ren-la Shen Tel Roh now convenes.¡± A pixie, no taller than an outstretched mortal hand spoke with a booming voice that dared the other attendees to interrupt or speak out of turn. As she bowed to the four corners, tiny bracelets jangled about the fairy¡¯s arms and legs. The Fae Queen who she¡¯d announced processed in, carried by her golden dragonfly wings. Now that she was no longer in audience with a student, the queen S¡¯ha Ren-la wore her natural aspect. Long, thin features proclaimed her noble heritage among the fae. Her skin was pale white, with a soft radiance beneath. Her hair matched her wings, as golden as honey.


    Two figures floated over her shoulders, one dark as shadow, flickering against the light of the room, animated by its own power. The other was white and moved like a projection over the fae queen¡¯s shoulder, as if animated by an old fashioned zoetrope. The shadow and the figure of light flickered and merged with each other, echoing portions of the fae queen¡¯s gestures, but not all of them.


    Boris of the Twisted Branch, the mortal Joshua of the Cabal, and a small number of other advisers within the camp sat before the fae queen with their heads bowed. When she sat, they raised them and Boris spoke. ¡°My queen, we have assembled as you instructed.¡±


    ¡°Good. Let us conclude the trial of Esme Duveryon as quickly as possible. Bring in the accused.¡±


    The pixie fluttered to the door and opened it despite her tiny stature.


    Esme, the accused, walked in with heavy chains about her wrists and ankles. Grigo the Steward followed her with his pointed ears folded over his head as if they had begun to wilt. The pixie followed the procession after closing the door and it was the pixie who pulled Esme¡¯s arms down so that she was forced to kowtow before the fae queen.


    ¡°Esme Duveryon, you have brought violence to the students of this place. You have broken the sacred laws of the Refuge of Knowledge, the Academy Sanctorum. What say you?¡± S¡¯ha Ren-la already knew of Esme¡¯s guilt. But ancient tradition older than the queen herself, older even than her office, required that the accused be permitted to speak in her own defense.


    ¡°I regret nothing!¡± Esme raised her eyes to the throne, but could not lift her head beyond the fae queen¡¯s knees. ¡°You know that my kind require lust to survive, to maintain our immortal existence. And that little bitch human tried to kill me when all I did was bend her will a tiny bit!¡±


    S¡¯ha Ren-la understood the demands of nature as well as any Temptress. ¡°This is your defense?¡±


    ¡°Yes! I brought only mental games, lustful diversions, and that bitch tried to end me!¡± Again, Esme could not lift her head above the throne S¡¯ha Ren-la sat on.


    ¡°I would hear from the other administrators of the Sanctorum. Boris of the Twisted Branch, speak.¡± The fae queen flicked her hand at the Ogre-magi who bowed low at the waist and almost toppled over as he did so.


    He cleared his throat and said, ¡°My queen, the demoness Esme speaks the truth. Though I do not believe her intentions were innocent, she had no designs on Emilia¡¯s life or mind.¡± Boris looked around the room, studiously avoiding the throne itself as he nodded and sat back down.


    ¡°Joshua of the Cabal, how speak you?¡±


    Joshua stood and bowed with considerably more agility than Boris mustered. ¡°My queen, Emilia Olren was the victim of a rogue human witch who tortured her in mind and body for her whole life. Recently, she fell under the power of a sorceress beholden to a dark alien being of unknown origin. Ms Duveryon¡¯s ¡°dalliance¡± must have felt very much like this sorceress¡¯s control. The violent response Ms Olren took was well within her rights as the offended party, but I do not believe that her reaction indicts Ms Duveryon¡¯s behavior anymore than her own words have.¡± As if he reviewed his monologue after the fact, Joshua nodded to the court and to himself and sat back down.


    S¡¯ha Ren-la steepled her fingers and stared at the demoness, who lowered her head. Grigo, the Temptress¡¯s husband and Steward Infernal of the Sanctorum stood beside his wife with his face mottled green and yellow in barely restrained fury. Sighing before she spoke, the fae queen motioned to the Imp. ¡°Steward Grigo, you wish to speak?¡±


    ¡°I do, my queen,¡± the words burned in Grigo¡¯s throat, the fae queen could tell by the way he swallowed multiple times as he tried to spit them out, ¡°the demoness Cary and the mortal Emilia are trouble. I believe Ms Olren bears some hidden grudge against my wife or against Temptresses in general.¡±


    ¡°Why do you believe such, Grigo?¡±


    ¡°Because the demon attacked my wife immediately upon meeting her! While she stood within my own offices!¡± Spittle flew from Grigo¡¯s mouth as he ranted toward the throne. A testament to the force of his will, he could raise his gaze almost to the queen¡¯s diamond bedecked navel.


    ¡°And you chose not to report this incident?¡±


    The fae queen¡¯s question sucked the bluster from Grigo¡¯s voice and expression. ¡°I¡­ chose to handle the matter as part of my discretion for dealing with the Infernals among the Sanctorum.¡±


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    S¡¯ha Ren-la nodded, imagining that Grigo had more reasons for his silence than he admitted. ¡°Thank you for your candor, Steward Grigo. Two more questions:¡± His ears twitched as if the queen had tried to strike him, but missed. ¡°Did you stab Ms Olren in the back with a weapon during her altercation with your wife? And I understand you had Ms Cary removed from your organization to serve in the Scriptorium, is that true?¡±


    Grigo¡¯s yellow splotched skin returned, but now from nervous apprehension at the queen¡¯s words. He paused only a few seconds to consider his answer. ¡°Ah, yes. To both questions my queen. I stabbed Ms Olren because she was trying to kill my wife. And I had her pet demoness assigned to Alshin because I do not wish to deal with her or her lies any further.¡±


    ¡°Lies? What lies?¡±


    Raising his head and lowering his eyes, Grigo said, ¡°the Formless One makes many claims about her powers that I highly doubt. There are, as you know, ways to foil Truthtelling.¡±


    S¡¯ha Ren-la sighed and gathered her voice, ¡°Elaborate, Steward, now.¡±


    Grigo jumped at her command. ¡°Cary claims she possesses a perfect memory and that her ability to shapeshift has been stripped or blocked. She also claims to be ancient, almost as old as yourself, Mother.¡± He trembled as the words all but tripped over each other to escape his throat.


    S¡¯ha Ren-la sighed with disgust at Grigo and his petty behavior. ¡°You are dismissed, Steward Grigo. Do not involve yourself further with Ms Emilia Olren or Ms Cary without my leave. Do you understand?¡± Grigo¡¯s nod came a beat slow for the queen¡¯s taste. She struck the armrest of her throne with nails harder than adamant. ¡°Let me rephrase. If you wish to remain within our Sanctorum and continue to receive its protections, you will swear a satisfactory oath on the powers right now. Or you will be properly dismissed.¡±


    Grigo¡¯s skin turned pale as he nodded. He mumbled the words of his oath. ¡°By the Beginning and End, by the Boundary of all things. I swear that I will not involve myself or my powers in the affairs of Emilia Olren or her demoness, Cary to the extent permitted by my role.¡±


    The queen raised her nails, prepared to render a harsh judgment upon her servant. But at the last moment reconsidered. She could only expect so much from her infernal servants. ¡°Good. Leave us, Steward Grigo and remember the consequences of defying the spirit of your oath.¡±


    Grigo scrambled away from S¡¯ha Ren-la¡¯s court as fast as his stubby legs could carry him. With his departure, the fae queen turned her displeasure upon Esme Duveryon. ¡°Esme, we know why you remain among our ranks, not for love of your mate or for knowledge. We know you partake of the sanctuary of this place and the relative freedom it permits. We also know that you chafe under our Laws. Do you wish to leave?¡±


    Esme shook her head, which had sagged back so she faced the ground long ago. ¡°No, my queen.¡±


    ¡°Do you understand that we are within the rights of our Laws to banish you from here, to name you anathema and strip you of even your memory of this sanctum?¡±


    At the question, Esme quivered. S¡¯ha noticed a single tear fall to the stone floor at their feet. ¡°Yes, my queen.¡±


    ¡°Then you should consider your actions and behavior in the future. If not for the indulgence of Boris and Joshua, you would suffer this very fate right now. Had you permanently harmed Ms Olren, we might end your existence ourselves. Swear that you will not harm Ms Olren or Ms Cary by word or deed, action or inaction, directly or through agents, or you will suffer permanent banishment. Do so right now.¡±


    Boris gasped, but Joshua nodded. As smart and insightful as the Ogre-magi could be, he lacked the mortal¡¯s understanding of the minds of others. For the queen to demand a specific oath as she did bordered on the forbidden. But at the same time, all demonkind must know the penalty for treading the border of S¡¯ha Ren-la¡¯s edicts, of the laws of the Sanctorum. When Esme had spoken the oath as the queen demanded, she dismissed the demoness without further word.


    With the trial over, Boris stooped to collect his staff and effects, while Joshua patiently watched the throne. Only once the Ogre-magi stood did he realize that the queen had not yet ended the proceedings. With a burbling series of apologies, he resumed his seat, S¡¯ha Ren-la waiting for him to do so.


    ¡°I would like to assign my personal agents to both Ms Olren and her demoness.¡± She pointed to Joshua, ¡°you know the mortal best of all of us. Pick one of the fae and ensure she stays with Ms Olren as much as possible. Select someone who she might take into her confidence. As to Ms Cary, I will select my agent personally, but I wish the both of you to know that a faerie will be watching her. But do not alert her to this fact.¡± The queen knew that with Boris teaching the mortal, she would have warn him not to give away her agent¡¯s identity. Otherwise he would eventually notice something amiss. Joshua was protective of the child, which would color his decisions when it came to her well-being. It was best he knew about the spies too.


    ¡°It will be done, my queen.¡± Joshua bowed to S¡¯ha Ren-la from his seated position.


    Boris cleared his throat. ¡°If I may, my queen?¡±


    ¡°Speak.¡±


    ¡°The girl¡¯s talent is a dangerous one. Anyone you assign to her must be aware of his fact. If they possess mental blocks with the slightest flaw, she could ram through them with nary a thought. It might require only a light touch.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Boris. You remain ever the faithful servant. Joshua, take Boris¡¯s advice into consideration when you choose a companion for Ms Olren. We are now adjourned.¡±


    The royal court dissolved quickly, the fae queen preferred to minimize pomp when she could do so. As Boris and Joshua left the tent a short Imp, hairless and nude, observed their departure. He noted the queen¡¯s departure last and hopped back to report to his master.


    ¡°Marneus, what have you learned?¡± Grigo adjusted his glasses on his nose as he interrogated the hairless Imp.


    ¡°Master, the queen dismissed Boris and Joshua well after you. She must have had additional instructions for them, sir.¡± Marneus dipped his nose to the carpet under his feet as he answered. Grigo took a swig from the caramel-colored liquor on his desk and sighed.


    ¡°I am no longer permitted to involve myself with the affairs of the mortal or her demoness. You will find Feresheth and report to him from now on. He knows my desires and has already made contact with the outsiders who will deal with the two of them on our behalf. Do not report back to me regarding this matter until it is permanently resolved.¡±


    ¡°Husband, you mustn¡¯t go forward with this command!¡± Esme waited until Marneus left the room before she lodged her protest. Her words conveyed one message while her eye roll and monotone delivery conveyed the opposite.


    Grigo patter her rump and chuckled. ¡°You¡¯ve executed the terms of your oath marvelously my sweet. Now let¡¯s forget this fucking mortal for the night. My dick¡¯s not gonna suck itself¡­¡±

 Chapter 12 Emilia - Mirabel

    Emilia woke with a man¡¯s voice in her ear. The sound of the masculine tones brought her out of her bed in a total panic. She shared a room with Betsy, who spoke with a high soprano voice. There was nothing masculine about Betsy or her vocal chords. Sweeping the room for the source of the words, Emilia found nothing but the magical remnant of a cloud that clung about her head. ¡°Who¡¯s there?¡±


    Betsy wasn¡¯t in her bed, most likely, she had academics to take care of in the early morning, whereas Emilia had been allowed to sleep in after her rough night.


    ¡°Ms Olren, this is Boris. Your instructor?¡± the Ogre-magi¡¯s tone rose at the end of his announcement as if he were asking a question. ¡°It is time for your first lesson. Are you prepared?¡±


    Emilia¡¯s heart raced as if she¡¯d been pursued by bandits in her dreams. ¡°You scared the crap out of me!¡±


    This time Boris burbled as if he had no response to that, or he had a dozen but didn¡¯t know which one to deliver. ¡°Ahem. Sorry about that, Ms Orlen. Ms Olren. Ahem.¡±


    The magical cloud of energy lingered and Emilia shook her finger at it. ¡°Well, you should have warned me you might wake me up with a voice in my head. That was freaky.¡±


    ¡°Indeed. I apologize again. When you are ready, I will send one of my assistants to help you find today¡¯s training grounds. Is that all right with you?¡±


    Emilia had covered her body instinctively, with a sigh, she nodded at the cloud and let her sheet drop. ¡°Yes, but have him knock.¡±


    ¡°Ahem, her. She will be a fairy and I will wait to send her until you give me your leave.¡±


    ¡°Okay, fine. Leave me alone now?¡± Emilia hesitated over her suitcases. She hadn¡¯t yet unpacked, skipping the task after she spent the whole night either chatting with Betsy or defending herself from Esme. The image of the Temptress trying to insinuate her power into Emilia¡¯s mind stopped her in her tracks and made Emilia cover her bra with both arms. As she did so, the cloud of magic which conveyed Boris¡¯s words departed from her room.


    Without knowing what ¡°training grounds¡± entailed, Emilia dressed for the weather. That meant a light woven shirt under a long-sleeved thin knit sweater and jeans. If she got too cold, she might be able to return to her room for a coat. If she grew too warm, she would remove her sweater and either fold it up or tie it around her waist.


    After a light dusting of makeup and some deodorant, Emilia felt minimally prepared to leave her room. ¡°Okay, Boris, I¡¯m ready for your assistant or whatever!¡±


    The moment she spoke, someone knocked on her door. Emilia jumped at the sound and she nervously approached the door as if it were haunted. ¡°Hello?¡±


    ¡°Hello mortal girl!¡± The voice outside the door was much higher than Betsy¡¯s voice and held a bouncing exuberance that brought an involuntary smile to Emilia¡¯s face.


    ¡°Hello?¡±


    ¡°Hello! I am speaking to a door!¡±


    ¡°Hello?¡±


    ¡°Hello! Am I just speaking to a door?


    Emilia giggled into her palm. ¡°Hello?¡±


    ¡°Hello again! This is me behind the door! It¡¯s time to go mortal girl!¡±


    ¡°Hello?¡±


    ¡°Oh, this is a thing we¡¯re doing. I see! Hello!¡±


    Emilia covered her mouth at that reply, and slid the door open a crack. As she peered outside, a tiny figure with butterfly wings that hardly moved as she flew into Emilia¡¯s view appeared. With a grin, Emilia said, ¡°Hello?¡±


    The fairy girl stuck her tongue out at Emilia and pulled the skin of her face down. The expression muffled her voice as she said, ¡°hello! Is your brain stuck with only one word, like the giant guy on that ridiculously unrealistic TV show?¡±


    Emilia pulled the door open and resisted the urge to repeat herself. ¡°Nope. But I wanted to see how far I could take it before you commented on it.¡±


    The fairy spun around and giggled at Emilia¡¯s answer. Now that she had a good look at her, Emilia grinned at the fairy¡¯s appearance. She wore a plastic thimble on her head as a kind of helmet and a leather glove with the finger tips cut off with a space for her wings as her dress. A twist tie cinched the glove to the fairy¡¯s waist and held a long curved blade which hung naked at the fairy¡¯s side. It was the only thing clearly purpose made for the fairy and from the tiny jewels and runes which adorned the hilt and blade respectively, Emilia suspected it possessed magic of its own.


    ¡°Okay, are we done messing around?¡± The fairy¡¯s loose-tailored glove bobbed as she put her hands on her hips and tilted her head at Emilia.


    ¡°Probably not, if I¡¯m being honest.¡±


    Tittering, the fairy rolled her eyes at Emilia. ¡°Well, honesty is good, I guess!¡± she spun in place. ¡°But it we stay here playing greeting games all day, Boris is gonna yell at me at that¡¯s super mega boring. Like even more boring than listening to his lectures!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m ready whenever you are.¡±


    At that the fairy turned and face Emilia with her finger pointed at her. ¡°Oh yeah? Well, I¡¯m ready whenever you are!¡±


    Emilia was going to enjoy her time with this weird fairy.


    ¡°So where are you from?¡± The fairy spun about Emilia¡¯s head as they walked over the lawn. ¡°Like, Earth, right?¡±


    ¡°Uh, yeah. Texas to be specific.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound like Earth, that sounds like some sort of alien world.¡±


    ¡°I suppose¡­ I mean yeah. Texas is weird as places go. But I¡¯m not from Armenia.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s GREAT! I can show you around sometime when we don¡¯t have classes or boring homework to do. Or other boring chores. Or just boring stuff in general!¡± The fairy hovered off to the side, toward the edge of the clearing, leading Emilia about in a rambling pattern. ¡°I like Armenia, they know how to respect their elders and the¡­¡± the fairy wiggled her fingers at Emilia, ¡°¡­little people! Oooh, spooky!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t really know anything about the little people, actually.¡±


    ¡°Oh! That¡¯s good! That means I can pontificate all I need at any random time.¡± The fairy ducked under a branch, spun back to look at the branch, over at Emilia¡¯s head and back at the branch. She put her hand on her chin and nodded. With a motion so quick Emilia couldn¡¯t follow, she chopped the branch off, caught it, and tossed the loose end off the side of the path. ¡°That was going to smack you in the head and nothing I said would convince it otherwise.¡± The fairy flew up to the trunk and patted the tree while Emilia watched. ¡°Sorry buddy, but I have a duty!¡±


    ¡°Thanks for that¡­¡± Emilia wasn¡¯t going to mention that she could have ducked or moved the branch herself, the odd little fairy was awfully proud of herself. ¡°Where are we going?¡± The terrain had shifted to match the dense foliage where Boris had led her the previous day for her altar test.


    ¡°Into the woods, duh!¡± The fairy shot forward along the path, sheathed her sword and waved her hands at Emilia. ¡°It¡¯s not like I¡¯m planning to chop you into pieces and hide your body out here, that would get my sword messy. Besides, with all of those¡­ bits and stuff, you¡¯d be a pain to hide.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t really feel reassured by that.¡± As ominous as the fairy¡¯s words were, Emilia had a hard time fearing her.


    ¡°Oh, I wasn¡¯t trying to reassure you. I was just mentioning one thing I don¡¯t plan on doing. Which, I mean, I guess there is WAY more stuff that I don¡¯t want to do than I want to. Huh!¡±


    The fairy flitted back toward Emilia, who said, ¡°What do want to do then?¡±


    ¡°Ooh! I would kill a slightly impolite squirrel for a sandwich. I mean not to make him into one, but to take his sandwich because he was mocking me for my lunchlessness. Oooh, that would make me mad!¡±


    ¡°Okay. I got nothing for that.¡±


    ¡°I know, if you¡¯d had lunch food, I would have smelled it on you. Unless you¡¯re hiding it an a SECRET pocket. Are you? I mean did you just say you got nothing for that because you didn¡¯t want to share? That would be cool, except for the refusing to share with me part.¡±


    ¡°Nope. Nothing to eat here. How would I get a secret pocket?¡±


    The fairy zoomed away again, this time further down the path. ¡°Beats me, but we¡¯re here!¡± Come on over here!¡±


    Emilia refused to hustle for this strange fairy. But curiosity moved her feet forward a little quicker anyway. ¡°What is it¡­ oh!¡±


    A clearing opened up before them. Off to the left a waterfall twice Emilia¡¯s height sprayed a rainbow into the air as it poured its contents into a small stream that flowed across the far edge of the clearing. At the right edge, a table with four chairs had been set up next to a wooden writing desk. A tent unlike the other tents of the camp rested right on the border of the clearing. Rather than solid walls, this tent rested on four long posts with the sides open to the air. Boris puttered about underneath the canopy, adjusting the position of a small portable shelf full of books and muttering to himself.


    The fairy squealed and clapped her hands on her cheeks and shot into the water with a tiny splash. Boris hopped at the sound and squinted over the rim of his glasses at the fairy¡¯s antics. He frowned and shook his head, returning to his book sorting. After a few seconds, he shook his head s as clearing it and stood up like a gopher and scanned the far edge of the clearing. When he spotted Emilia he blinked and waved to her. ¡°Ms Olren! I¡¯m glad you came. It looks like my assistant found you after all.¡±


    ¡°Oh yes, she¡¯s been indispensable.¡±


    At those words, the fairy hovered out of the water holding some kind of water bug, maybe a crayfish or something like it. ¡°Did you hear, Boris? I hereby excuse myself from my duties today! I¡¯ve been indispensable! Woo!¡±


    ¡°Ahem,¡± Boris cleared his throat and resumed his over-the-glasses glare. ¡°That means we need you! So you can¡¯t run off Mirabel.¡±


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    ¡°Aww!¡± The fairy ¡ª Mirabel ¡ª sulked toward them. ¡°You ruined it, Boris! I was going to make the mortal girl guess my name.¡±


    ¡°I could still guess if you want. Is your name Shanon?¡±


    Mirabel cocked her head to the side, put her finger on her lips and shrugged. ¡°No! Wrong! Try again.¡±


    ¡°How about Sharon?¡±


    ¡°Nope!


    ¡°Shelly?¡±


    ¡°No! It doesn¡¯t start with an Sh, an S, or an H.¡±


    ¡°Nebuchadnezzar?¡±


    ¡°Um, no. But now I¡¯m thinking you might be insane. Or a genius.¡± Mirabel floated over to Boris. ¡°Hey! If I wanted to change my name to Nebuchad¡­ what she said, what kind of problems would I have?¡±


    Boris frowned as if the fairy¡¯s presence disturbed him. ¡°Well, aside from the fact you¡¯re having trouble saying it, how would you get your mail if people tried to send it to Mirabel?¡±


    ¡°Oh holy shit! You¡¯re right! I can miss out on my Magical Unicorn Princess swag!¡± Mirabel flew to Emilia. ¡°I like where your crazy head is at, but I¡¯m keeping my current name. Don¡¯t want to have to miss any packages.¡±


    ¡°So Mirabel?¡±


    ¡°OH MY GODS SHE¡¯S A MINDREADER!¡± Mirabel clapped her hands on her temple and started chanting, ¡°Sunshine Murder is the best horsey, Sunshine Murder is the best horsey.¡± Emilia opened her mouth to comment, but Mirabel pointed at her. ¡°Stay out of my head, witch!¡± She retreated behind Boris, who only shook his head.


    Emilia couldn¡¯t wipe the grin off of her face now. Whether Mirabel was serious or just acting, she found she really liked the little fairy woman.¡±


    ¡°If you two are done goofing around¡­¡±


    ¡°Hey old man, you were the first to goof!¡± Mirabel pointed to the books on the portable shelf. ¡°You sent for us before you were even done organizing the books. Books you¡¯re gonna just pack up tonight and lug back to the camp like a big dumb¡­ lug!¡±


    Rather than scold her, a tiny ghost of a smile graced Boris¡¯s lip. Then he furrowed his brow and scolded Mirabel. ¡°I never goof. Especially during lesson time. I am goofless.¡± The Fairy opened her mouth, but Boris cut her off. ¡°Now enough silliness. It is actually time to learn.¡±


    He waved Emilia over and pointed to a chair. She pulled it out and flashed him a questioning look. He nodded at her and motioned her to sit.


    ¡°Now, Ms Olren. What do you know about Prajna?¡± As he asked his question, he turned back to his stake of books and pulled a thin tome from the top of the stack.


    ¡°Um¡­ I think it¡¯s a Sanskrit term for energy or something?¡±


    ¡°That is correct. Mostly.¡± He handed her the book, which bore a double-thumbed handprint on the surface and a series of sigils Emilia had no way of deciphering. ¡°A better definition might be that ¡®Prajna is just one term for the magical energy that flows through all things.¡¯ Not just breath, and not just Vriksha. But something more.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s like the cloud that made your voice sound in my room this morning?¡±


    Boris¡¯s ears waggled as he pointed at Emilia and nodded. ¡°That is exactly right!¡± After a moment, he seemed to realize what she actually said as he shook his head and blinked at her. ¡°You could see that?¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°Marvelous!¡± Boris clapped his hands. ¡°After you¡­ well never mind. I feared you possessed some kind of magical block or deficiency. But if you can see the power without a spell, then teaching you should be a pleasure!¡±


    ¡°Thanks?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t mention it! What did the cloud look like, exactly?¡±


    Emilia bit her lip and struggled to recall details from being awoken by surprise. ¡°I guess it¡¯s like a thought bubble, one of the little cartoon ones that follows you around with words and stuff in it?¡± Boris tilted his head at her explanation, which made Emilia¡¯s cheeks flare. ¡°I mean¡­ maybe I¡¯m not saying it right¡­¡±


    ¡°Oh no, that¡¯s fine. Everyone perceives Prajna a little differently. It¡¯s partly based on aptitude and partly on our personal experiences and history.¡± Boris opened the book in Emilia¡¯s hand and pointed to an illustration. ¡°There. That is an image of Prajna from the author¡¯s imagination and perspective.¡±


    A lion made from little curlicues and curled lines of gold crossed the page and meandered over the overleaf. This book was animated, Emilia gripped it a little more tightly at the discovery. ¡°Pretty.¡±


    ¡°Ah yes, well, I suppose it is. But this is just an illustration.¡± Boris sighed as Mirabel burst into choking laughter behind him. ¡°I mean this is only intended as an example.¡±


    Emilia grinned and nodded at her teacher, doing her best job not to mock him with her expression as he blathered momentarily.


    ¡°Setting that aside for now, it is not sufficient to see Prajna. You need to be able to feel it, trace its contours, to even taste it like oil on your tongue.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± Emilia blurted out the question without thinking.


    Boris blinked at her and shook his head. ¡°Well, because you need to be able to¡­¡± he adjusted his glasses, ¡°that is¡­¡± Shaking his whole body, Boris waved away his own indecision. ¡°Because magic is a sensory experience, but one born of alternate senses. People believe they only have five senses, yes?¡±


    ¡°Sure, sight, sound, touch, taste, and smell.¡±


    ¡°Balderdash.¡± Boris sniffed the air. ¡°Tell me, Ms Olren, where is your foot right now?¡±


    ¡°Under my knee?¡±


    ¡°But how do you know without looking?¡±


    ¡°I feel it?¡±


    ¡°Indeed, you sense it. We have many more than five senses. Balance, proprioception, thermal, direction, and several more beside. To use magic well, we must steep ourselves in the full sensory experience of the power. From the flavor of Prajna to its color is but one layer of the experience. You can see magic, which is a good first step. But as you learn to feel it with every part of your body and soul, magic will open its possibilities to you.¡±


    ¡°I guess I still don¡¯t understand.¡±


    Boris gave a simple shrug. ¡°Of course not. If you already understood this, it would not be necessary to teach it to you.¡±


    ¡°Huh.¡±


    ¡°Huh indeed!¡± Boris motioned for Emilia to stand. ¡°I suppose the theory isn¡¯t particularly helpful. Let¡¯s remedy that.¡± Boris took the book from Emilia¡¯s hand and set it back on the table. Then he walked to the little brook that passed through the glade and pointed to the edge. ¡°Take off your shoes, please.¡± Emilia hesitated and Boris huffed at her. ¡°Quickly please. Time flies, Ms Olren, and this practical demonstration is a digression.¡±


    Emilia pulled her shoes off. ¡°Socks too?¡±


    ¡°Indeed. We are going to get your feet wet.¡± He held up his hand and pointed to Mirabel. ¡°And yes, I am aware of the metaphor.¡±


    Once Emilia¡¯s feet were bare, Boris indicated the water. ¡°Dip your toes into the stream. Tell me what you feel.¡±


    Emilia stuck her toes into the top of running water, careful to only get the tips wet. ¡°They¡¯re chilly. And the water is slick between my toes when I move them.¡±


    ¡°Good. Can you feel the pressure of the water, how it runs by?¡±


    ¡°Yes!¡±


    ¡°What about your balance. How hard is it to keep from falling in?¡±


    Mirabel stalked toward Emilia with her arms raised and a comically wicked laugh. ¡°Muahaha¡­¡±


    Emilia stepped back and dangled her toes in from the bank. ¡°It was hard. Especially with a distraction.¡±


    ¡°Yes, well, I can imagine.¡± Boris gave a light hearted swat at Mirabel, who dodged his furry hand and stuck her tongue out at him. ¡°Magic works best when you can visualize it fully. That word is not adequate. You do not want to merely visualize your intended effect, you want to embody it. You should aim to make it as real in your mind as the mud floating between your toes.¡±


    ¡°Huh.¡±


    Boris ignored her interjection. ¡°Now put your whole foot in the water. How is that different?¡±


    ¡°I can feel twigs and stuff from the shore. Maybe they¡¯re roots.¡±


    ¡°Are they hard or soft, do they yield to the pressure from your foot or do they resist?¡±


    Emilia hesitated to answer and Boris sprang forward toward her. Rather than toss her into the stream, Emilia¡¯s initial fear, she felt him plunge a sliver of power into her. It rolled through her body like a boulder rolling uphill. Like a snowball in reverse, the boulder cast off its weight and Emilia¡¯s body began to shift and change. For a moment, she resisted the effect, tried to force it away from her. But Boris¡¯s magic would not be denied. As inevitable as Sisyphus failing to keep his stone at the top of his rise, Boris¡¯s magic followed its course.


    In moments, Emilia sank down to no more than a few inches tall. She wasn¡¯t a frog, thank the Gods, but she was something slimy and four-legged. In any other circumstance, Emilia would have panicked and tried to flee. But a portion of Boris¡¯s passing magic left her with a calm, even mind.


    Around her, the world expanded to empyrean heights, the trees became giant redwoods the likes of which Emilia had only ever seen in nature documentaries. The stream changed from a gently bubbling brook to a massive river. Even the grass morphed into something out of legends. After a moment, Boris joined her, but not as a¡­ whatever she was, but as a short version of himself.


    His voice was squeaky and high pitched. Mirabel stood taller than him as she alighted onto the ground next to the wee Ogre-magi. ¡°What do you sense, Ms Olren?¡±


    ¡°I sense you stole this from a cartoon.¡±


    Boris rolled his eyes and scoffed. ¡°That cartoon stole this from my very own teaching methods. But we will not be jumping bodily into the stream today. Nor am I so reckless as to allow a hawk or trout to gobble you up.¡±


    Mirabel leaned in and cupped her hands to whisper.¡°Don¡¯t believe him, Boris has consulted with Squisney on the side.¡±


    Emilia giggled, which came out as a soft croak. ¡°Am I a frog?¡±


    Boris cleared his throat. ¡°Yes, well. It¡¯s best to start with something that breathes air, or you might panic no matter how much I calm you. Besides, the frog is traditional.¡± As if he¡¯d scented something offputting, Boris screwed his nose up and waved his hands in the air. ¡°Enough distractions! I want you to contemplate your new form. How does it feel, Ms Olren? This is more important than dreaming of being free as a bird or frolicking with squirrels. This is magic.¡±


    With the strange insight of a frog¡¯s eyes, Emilia saw the way Boris¡¯s skin flushed and his nostrils flared when he said the word. For Emilia, magic had been a burden, something she never quite managed to measure up to. It was nothing more than a tool that she wielded with all of the agility ofa toddler. But Boris loved magic. Loved it as though it were his soulmate. From the scent of him, musty and book bound, Emilia could tell he slept alone. Or rather, he slept surrounded by the tomes and other accoutrement of the magical arts. He¡¯d married himself to his art at a young age and the years had only refined that love to something rich and well tended.


    ¡°What do you feel?¡±


    Emilia couldn¡¯t share her revelation with the man. It would embarrass him and she didn¡¯t want that. ¡°My skin sags off my body.¡±


    Mirabel burst into great guffaws at that, and Boris¡¯s ears wilted. ¡°Is that really all?¡±


    In truth, no. Emilia could feel the sun drying her loose covered flesh. She could feel the tiny grains of soil and earth between her legs, shifting as she breathed. Breath was a marvel of confused sensations, she didn¡¯t really inhale with her throat as such, but sucked air in through gills mounted on her back. Her throat and nose told a different story. As much as she¡¯d read into the old man¡¯s body from the senses of a frog, they painted a wide world of bright odors. Things that should have disgusted her as a human, bird droppings and decaying crickets, carried with them banquets of multi-layered scents. A part of her was tempted to hop over to the source of those reeks and let them roll over her palette in order to take their full measure. But Boris stared at her with disappointment heavy in his eyes. ¡°This is marvelous.¡±


    His ears perked up a fraction, but she could tell from the dull shade of his gaze that he didn¡¯t believe her. ¡°Well, that is enough direct experience for the day.¡± There was no wand, no addition of magic words. Boris just snapped his fingers and Emilia and he expanded to their original size.


    After that, Boris¡¯s lecture lost a bit of his enthusiasm. Emilia didn¡¯t know what to say to him to try and help, so she took notes and committed herself to recording his words and advice.Class ended in time for dinner, with Boris ushering her off and Miracbel leading the way back to the camp.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to hurt his feelings.¡±


    Mirabel waggled her head side to side. ¡°Eh, he¡¯s a sensitive old weirdo.¡±


    ¡°But I mean, the frog thing was pretty neat, really.¡±


    Spinning to face Emilia, Mirabel said, ¡°Really? You¡¯re not just saying that?¡±


    ¡°No! I mean¡­ well it was like the frog¡¯s strange senses gave me insight into Boris and the way he looked at the world.¡±


    ¡°Tell me.¡± Mirabel held her chin in her hands and floated backwards through the forest.


    After a moment¡¯s hesitation, Emilia began to describe the way she saw the world from the perspective of the frog. She packed her words with he feeling of the grit in her toes and the sun on her back.


    At the end of Emilia¡¯s description, Mirabel¡¯s eyes glittered. ¡°That old fool doesn¡¯t see how lucky he got with you.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    Shrugging, Mirabel said, ¡°it¡¯s too bad you didn¡¯t tell him all of this the first time. Now he¡¯s gonna think you¡¯re just humoring him to protect his fee-fees.¡±


    ¡°I still don¡¯t get it.¡±


    Mirabel pointed to Emilia with a hand on her hip and the other poking Emilia¡¯s nose. ¡°What is magic to you?¡±


    ¡°Danger.¡± The word popped out of Emilia¡¯s mouth as if Mirabel had frightened the little frog word out of her throat.


    At that, Mirabel¡¯s wings sagged and her face took on a morose cast. ¡°That is so sad!¡± She slapped her cheeks, but the frown remained. ¡°You should definitely not tell Boris that. He might die from shock.¡±


    ¡°What do I do?¡±


    Mirabel¡¯s face melted back to her usual, near-laughter state. ¡°Just keep studying and practicing. At this point, the best you can do is keep from making the old ogre sad. And I also suggest eating, sleeping, and drinking lots of water.¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡±


    ¡°I mean breathing and stuff is important too. So keep doing that.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I get it¡­¡±


    ¡°Hey!¡± Mirabel¡¯s face changed back into an excited mask. It was like her expressions were as flighty as she. ¡°You should also let me eat with you. I TOTALLY don¡¯t eat people meat. I mean, you guys are filled with calories and cholesterol. Gross.¡±


    Ignoring the implied threat, Emilia said, ¡°you want to come with me to dinner meet my friends?¡¯


    ¡°Sure!¡±


    ¡°Okay, but no meating my friends, understand?¡±


    ¡°Wha?¡±


    ¡°M-e-a-ting¡­¡±


    Mirabel groaned. ¡°You might be better as a meal.¡±

 Chapter 13 Emilia - Fel Slaves

    ¡°Why are we so focused on me shapeshifting into something?¡± Emilia wove the spell for the thirtieth time, watched the energies coalesce and fade as she tried to invoke the magic Boris insisted she learn.


    ¡°Because your demon familiar is a Formless One.¡± Boris reclined in his seat under the canopy, safe from the rain that drenched Emilia as she struggled and failed to cast her spell. ¡°I am not aware of any demonic races as given to shapeshifting as your familiar. Even other aliens with innate shapeshifting abilities are not as skilled or prone to shifting as Formless Ones.¡±


    ¡°I still don¡¯t¡­¡± Attempt thirty-one pulled a chunk of Prajna from Emilia¡¯s gut, making her double over in pain. ¡°I don¡¯t get why that matters.¡±


    ¡°She is your familiar, the powers she possesses should empower you. Magic that comes naturally to your demon should come almost as naturally to you.¡±


    ¡°Then why can¡¯t you shapeshift me instead?¡±


    ¡°Stop, child.¡± Boris stood and waved off Emilia¡¯s efforts at transforming. He produced a small beaker from a pouch at his side and handed it to her. Emilia still didn¡¯t know what the beaker contained, but her power reached out for it hungrily. The moment her magic touched the sides of the frosted glass, magical energy flowed into her and restored her depleted reserves. Each time Boris handed her the glass, the faint glow from within the beaker faded. And each time he showed it to her again, the light had restored itself. ¡°There, do you feel better now?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, thanks.¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡± Boris replaced his beaker and cleaned his glasses with a kerchief from his coat pocket. ¡°I am not trying to torture you, child. I want to see you excel. And the best way to do so is to focus on a concrete magic you can perform. Our initial transformations were only intended to demonstrate that you could change.¡±


    Emilia nodded, breathing through her nose as the power she¡¯d absorbed coursed through her veins. After a few steady breath, the sense of exhausted depletion faded away. ¡°So why not keep doing it?¡±


    ¡°Because you won¡¯t learn anything else.¡± Boris looked up at the sky and sighed in irritation at the downpour. ¡°I¡¯ll admit that this weather is not especially ideal. And dinner time nears¡­¡±


    Emilia¡¯s ears perked up at his hesitation. ¡°And?¡±


    Boris snorted, ¡°¡­and you are free the rest of the evening to eat.¡±


    Despite the soaking chill, Emilia shot off into the forest. After several days, she knew the route back to the camp as if she¡¯d lived here for years. Mirabel wasn¡¯t here because she loathed the rain, so Emilia was on her own.


    ¡°Please practice the invocation tonight, at least!¡± Boris shouted after Emilia as she raced through the trees toward the camp.


    Tonight she expected to see Regina and the others during and after dinner. Aside from her lack of contact with Cary, the Sanctorum¡¯s major downside was how seldom Emilia got to see her friends. Anticipation drove her onward, her feet throwing up splashes of water as she consumed the distance between the practice area and the dining hall.


    Betsy stood out in the rain with Max next to her. They stood dry and untouched by the rain due to an invisible canopy over both of their heads. Max¡¯s repeated failures with most magic meant that Betsy had to be the one to invoke that particular spell. When Emilia raced up into the dry field, both of them shielded themselves from the spray of water she brought with her.


    Hugging first Max and then Betsy, Emilia said, ¡°were you guys waiting for little ol¡¯ me?¡±


    Max snorted and shook his head while Betsy nodded. When she caught him contradicting her, she elbowed him. ¡°Yes and no. We¡¯re waiting for Regina and Mirabel too.¡±


    Emilia was surprised by that admission. ¡°I didn¡¯t think the fairy would brave the rains¡­¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s because the Godsdamned rain is the worst fucking thing on this triple cursed planet!¡± Mirabel hid underneath a large white umbrella held by Regina.


    ¡°Hey guys, hey Emilia!¡± Regina waited until Mirabel was safely inside of Betys¡¯s dry area before she lowered her umbrella and hugged Emilia. ¡°Long time, no see.¡± She winked at Emilia as if to underscore that she was only teasing.


    ¡°Same to you. It¡¯s like our schedules are at constant odds.¡± Emilia held Regina a little longer than she had Betsy or Max. Regina¡¯s skin smelled of earth and flowers, a bit of her old life that Emilia actually didn¡¯t hate.


    Regina scanned the area, noticing the steady line of residents into and out of the dining hall. ¡°We should go in before the crowd gets insane.¡±


    Emilia nodded, uncertain of what Regina had been withholding. As soon as they entered the dinging hall, Betsy¡¯s field of warmth dropped and she released a dramatic sigh. ¡°Gods, that¡¯s harder to do than it looks.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t do that stuff at all, color me impressed.¡± Emilia gently elbowed Betsy, who¡¯s face glowed at the compliment.


    Regina nodded. ¡°I can¡¯t do it either. Though I can do some other fancy things.¡± She pointed her finger at Emilia, uttered a few syllables and snapped her fingers. The water dripping off of Emilia instantly vanished leaving her dry with a the faint odor of cinnamon about her. Sniffing at Emilia, Regina frowned. ¡°Cinnamon again! I swear I am going to get something else out of that spell eventually!¡±


    A few nearby students, all mortals recoiled from Regina¡¯s shout. Mirabel flitted from the area around Regina and cozied up with Emilia. Perched on Emilia¡¯s shoulder, Mirabel rubbed her cheek behind Emilia¡¯s ear, which made her squirm from the ticklish feeling of the fairy¡¯s wings and hands. ¡°You smell delicious to me.¡± She pointed to Regina. ¡°I would be fine if you never adjusted that spell. In fact, make it more cinnamon-y! I have demands!¡±


    ¡°You sure do.¡± Regina chuckled. ¡°They¡¯re bigger than you.¡±


    Following Regina, their group planted themselves at a booth. They might have fit at one of the freestanding tables, but Mirabel preferred to have her own seat, even if she only ever sat on Regina or Emilia¡¯s shoulders.


    No sooner had they situated themselves at the booth than a tall serpentine demon approached their table. Though he ¡ª Emilia only guessed at his gender ¡ª resembled a cobra with a majestic hood, he had a pair of arms at his shoulders. He took their orders with a perfunctory manner and left as quickly as he could manage.


    Emilia scanned the crowd of serving demons. After days of missing Cary, she¡¯d grown accustomed to monitoring their connection. Though she knew from the faint tug in her belly that Cary was not in the hall, Emilia still checked.


    Mirabel patted her ear and whispered low enough that the others would miss her words. ¡°I¡¯m sorry your little pet demon isn¡¯t here. That sucks!¡±


    Surprisingly, Mirabel had been a full-fledged member of Team Cary the moment she learned about her. Stopping short of encouraging Emilia to run off and find the demoness, the more Mirabel learned about Cary, the more she rooted for Emilia to stick with her. Aside from Betsy and her other friends, Mirabel knew more about the demoness than anyone else in the camp, not counting Joshua of course. Emilia still withheld the true nature of her relationship with Cary from Mirabel. The possibility of their secret spreading beyond the sworn group was too risky.


    ¡°How¡¯re Boris¡¯s lessons going?¡± Regina waited to ask until the serpent demon had slithered away. ¡°You still trying to manage a shift?¡±


    ¡°Yes. I don¡¯t mind shifting under his spells, though I¡¯ll admit the first few times were pretty weird, I can¡¯t change under my own magic to save my damn life.¡± Emilia frowned at her words. She couldn¡¯t manage much by way of magic. Aside from the small number of spells Papa Butch had taught her ¡ª all varied magics ¡ª she hardly knew anything worth demonstrating. ¡°Let¡¯s talk about someone else¡¯s failures¡­¡±


    Mirabel took that as an invitation to speak. ¡°Well, I tried to break into Fella Stinkbottom¡¯s flower pot this morning, but one of her spider guards caught me!¡± The fairy grabbed her shoulder and shook. ¡°I hate spiders! That reeking stink-bitch! She has to have picked them exactly because I hate them so much!¡±


    Emilia swallowed her laughter. The little fairy¡¯s constant battle of one-upmanship against Fella Sweetblossom seemed to always be on the forefront of Mirabel¡¯s mind.


    ¡°I managed an transmutation today.¡± Regina held her head up with pride. Emilia could practically see her pulling at imaginary suspenders as she spoke. ¡°It turned a lump of soil into coal.¡±


    ¡°Wow!¡± Leaning over the table, Betsy said, ¡°did you have to use a catalyst?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Regina frowned with the corner of her mouth and nodded. ¡°And it was one I had to borrow. But Master Silas thinks I will manage without it in a month or two.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s amazing!¡± Betsy¡¯s eyes twinkled as she stared at Regina. Emilia detected a hint of envy in Betsy¡¯s praise, but she didn¡¯t comment.


    ¡°How about you, Max?¡± Betsy¡¯s twin shook his head and grimaced at Emilia¡¯s question.¡±


    ¡°I am remedial.¡± He pointed with his empty fork toward the door. ¡°Any time I try to move something, it¡¯s like I¡¯m being punched in the gut. I was better at magic outside of the Sanctorum.¡± As if he¡¯d only then realized what he¡¯d said, Max¡¯s face blushed and he stared at the table. ¡°I mean¡­ I don¡¯t mean that bitch made things easier.¡± He dropped his fork onto the table and pushed it away. ¡°Shit, I don¡¯t know what I mean.¡±


    Betsy laid her hand on his shoulder. ¡°All three of us know what you mean. This place is different and sometimes learning things in a different environment is harder. You know you don¡¯t have to¡­¡±


    Max shrugged off Betsy¡¯s hand and jumped up from the table before she could finish. In his haste to flee the hall, he ran into the path of the serpent demon. In an amazing display of agility, the demon dipped under his flailing arms and avoided dropping any of its load. Max took a spill over the floor, which earned him a round of applause from the nearby tables. With his face burning even brighter than before, he escaped the hall before the clapping ended.


    ¡°Damn,¡± Betsy swore, but waited to finish speaking until he serpent demon deposited their food on the table. Once he finished, she resumed, ¡°he¡¯s been having nightmares about Cynthia. At least my twin superpowers think they¡¯re about Cynthia.¡±


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    Emilia nodded. ¡°I¡¯ve had nightmares about her almost every other night.¡±


    ¡°I know, Em. And you know¡­


    Cutting Betsy off, Emilia held her hands up as if to wipe away the air. ¡°It¡¯s not like that. I meant it as a solidarity thing, not as a we all have our own problems thing.¡±


    Betsy nodded, but Mirabel said, ¡°why not both? I have spider nightmares. But mostly on the nights when Fella¡¯s minions managed to stop me from breaching her guard.¡± Mirabel stood atop Emilia¡¯s shoulder like a war statue, her sword extended forward and her back hand on her hip. ¡°Death to all nightmares! And spiders!¡±


    Regina, Betsy, and Emilia raised their glasses to that.


    Their conversation drifted off into idle chatter while they ate their meal. Roast pork with apples and pumpkin and a salad with assorted greens filled most of the plates. Mirabel ate from her own small plate bearing a tiny portion of the pork and a heaping pile of little fried nuggets. Experience warned Emilia away from asking about those almost cylindrical nuggets. The first and only time she¡¯d asked, Mirabel had responded that they were roaches. A tiny goblet of wine completed Mirabel¡¯s setting, but the others refrained. According to their masters, alcohol would make the magic unreliable while they learned their spells.


    The serpent demon returned two more times to check after them, and aside from refilling Mirabel¡¯s goblet, no one else asked for more food.


    ¡°You haven¡¯t seen Cary in a few days, have you?¡± Regina broached the subject first, which brought Betsy¡¯s eyes up to lock with Emilia¡¯s.


    ¡°No, I¡¯m not sure how they expect me to work with my¡­ link, if she¡¯s never around.¡±


    Mirabel slurred her words as she said, ¡°the link¡¯s distant should be herrele¡­ mirrele¡­ It shouldn¡¯t matter.¡±


    ¡°Really.¡±


    ¡°Trust me, I¡¯m barsickly a marster.¡± Mirabel hiccuped and laughed at herself as she grabbed Emilia¡¯s shirt for balance.


    Betsy snorted and Regina said, ¡°BS. You¡¯re a master of what now?¡±


    ¡°S¡¯not sneaking into petunias. Fuck that Fell bottombitch!¡± Mirabel swayed and clung to Emilia as her wings drooped. ¡°I¡¯m a marster of Illusions! Blam!¡± To punctuate her words, she clapped her hands, pointed at the table and glittering bits of light streamed out of her hands. After a shimmer, the table turned into a large stone platform. Mirable belched and shook her head. ¡°Damnit, that¡¯s not right.¡± She shook her head and aimed her hands at the table a second time. This time the shimmer resolved into a piano. Emilia had no idea what went on in the fairy¡¯s head as the image of a piano set her into a bout of laughter. She tried to explain herself, but with the slurring and the jumble of words, none of them could make out her meaning.


    After dessert, Regina excused herself, kissed all three of the others on their cheeks, and walked out of the dining hall. As she left, Emilia turned to Betsy and said, ¡°classes or coursework?¡±


    Betsy shrugged. ¡°Beats me, she talks to me about as much as you these days. But I think I remember her saying she¡¯d taken on another class of novices.¡±


    ¡°Wow, I hope she doesn¡¯t overextend herself!¡±


    Mirabel snorted and let out another loud burp. ¡°That¡¯s the fucking point, duh.¡± From the sound of her voice, she was starting to sober up.


    ¡°Huh? What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡± Betsy narrowed her eyes at the fairy. It could be hard to tell when Mirabel was only messing with them and when she spoke the utter truth.


    ¡°I mean the masters here want to overextend you.¡± She rolled her hands together like she turned dough. ¡°They shovel more and more onto you to see either when you recognize you¡¯ve had enough or when you finally collapse.¡±


    ¡°What the fuck!¡± Emilia gasped. ¡°Why would they do that?¡±


    Mirabel snorted. ¡°Because that¡¯s the best way to find your limits, aside from throwing you in a pit with monsters. And that could get you killed.¡±


    ¡°But Boris hasn¡¯t been trying to crush me.¡±


    Mirabel shook her head. ¡°No, but you didn¡¯t pass the Test of Stone. You¡¯re stuck somewhere between being a novice and a true apprentice. Until you pass the test or awaken your real magic, he¡¯s gonna go the slow burn direction.¡±


    ¡°Shit!¡± Betsy stood up, her fists clenched angrily. ¡°I¡¯ve been wondering why my master is such a total prick! Are they all like that?¡± A few nearby tables fell silent and heads swiveled to face Betsy and her outburst.


    ¡°Shhh! This is a secret!¡± Emilia suddenly felt reassured about her decision not to let Mirabel in on her own secret. ¡°And don¡¯t be so dramatic. Magic is hard and most of you stupid mortals would get yourselves murdered or sold to demons if you didn¡¯t learn your real limits.¡±


    ¡°But¡­¡± Betsy¡¯s face had turned red. ¡°I¡¯ve been fraying at the edges trying to finish my GED and get my TK under control!¡±


    Mirabel rolled her eyes. ¡°When I was a little sprite, a woman like you would have already squeezed out two or three little brats. On top of that, if your local village learned you studied here, they would hang you or roast you over a pyre. A little studying and extra magic practice never resulted in death by smoke asphyxiation, so calm down!¡±


    Betsy opened and closed her mouth as if gasping for air. ¡°Fine. But I am gonna¡­¡±


    ¡°What? Complain about your all-expense paid magical and mundane education?¡± Mirabel popped a final chunk of fried¡­ something in her mouth and chewed noisily. ¡°After this is over, you¡¯ll speak two or three new languages, aside from your dumb English, you¡¯ll have a high school diploma thingie, which humans just fawn over, and YOU WILL KNOW FUCKING MAGIC!¡±


    At Mirabel¡¯s shout, the rest of the tables who¡¯d leaned in to eavesdrop shifted and ignored her. The fact she rose up and swiveled around as she raised her voice further discouraged any idle listeners.


    Betsy shrank back down into her bench seat. ¡°It¡¯s not fair they don¡¯t tell us.¡±


    Mirabel floated back to the piano surface and danced over keys that failed to respond to her footsteps. ¡°Fair is a stupid word. And I officially refer your further complaints to re: free room, board, and magic. Go complain to a bridge troll.¡± She pointed up at Emilia. ¡°You! You¡¯re not complaining. Take me to Fell Stankcrotch so I can pee in her daisies! Be quick about it, mortal slave.¡±


    Emilia humored the fairy only because, based on past experience, she would pass out from the drink well before they reached Fella¡¯s dreaded potted flowers. Betsy lagged behind, grumbling to herself.


    True to the pattern, Mirabel was snoring before they reached the gardens. Emilia diverted back toward their dorm. ¡°Do you think she¡¯s right?¡± Betsy pointed at the sleeping fairy.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, Bets. I mean, I¡¯m not happy that the masters might be intentionally messing with us, but I mean¡­ this is a lot better than before.¡± Emilia hated to bring that up, as much for her own sake as for Betsy¡¯s. But when Betsy had started her complaints, the memories of Cynthia¡¯s treatment rose up in her mind.


    Betsy¡¯s skin darkened under the moonlight. ¡°Shit. I guess I got too used to this nice treatment, huh?¡±


    ¡°I mean, it¡¯s not like I think they would send us back or anything. But I would rather spend my nights here struggling to learn magic than¡­ anything else.¡± They didn¡¯t need to say the words. After over a decade of regular beatings, neither girl needed a verbal reminder of Cynthia or the scars she¡¯d left on their psyches.


    ¡°Now I sound like an ungrateful bitch, don¡¯t I?¡± Betsy waited until they were in their room before she spoke.


    ¡°No, I don¡¯t think so.¡± Emilia set Mirabel down on a pink pillow she¡¯d brought into their room when she moved in. It was the closest thing to a bed the fairy kept. ¡°I think the same way we got used to life at the Wonders, we¡¯ve started to get used to this place. I mean it makes me furious to find out that the masters and administrators have hidden agendas. But when I say it out loud, I can¡¯t be surprised.¡±


    Betsy nodded, staring down at her sheets. ¡°I guess I thought this place would be different. Is that crazy?¡± When she looked up at Emilia, Betsy had started crying. ¡°I wanted this place to be different.¡±


    By the time Emilia reached her, Betsy had started outright bawling. Grabbing her best friend in her arms, Emilia found herself weeping alongside Betsy. Between choking sobs, Betsy said, ¡°If they start hitting us, I¡¯m burning this place to the ground.¡±


    ¡°If that happens, I will find you matches and kerosene¡­¡±


    Emilia lay atop her sheet in bed, crushed cotton pajamas kept the slight chill at bay. A few feet away, Mirabel finally stopped snoring while Betsy never actually started. Her instructions from Boris forgotten until then, Emilia sat up and decided she¡¯d take a late night/early morning stroll and try to invoke the shapeshift Boris had assigned her.


    ¡°Where you going, Em?¡± Clapping a hand over her own mouth kept Emilia from shouting in surprise at Betsy¡¯s voice.


    When she could recovered from her minor shock, Emilia said, ¡°I was going to go work on some magic and stuff. Wanna come with?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I can¡¯t sleep and I don¡¯t wanna try using magic to put me out.¡±


    ¡°Good thing, you¡¯d probably knock yourself out for a hundred years like a certain dumbass princess.¡± Both Emilia and Betsy started at the sound of Mirabel¡¯s voice. ¡°Gods and pots, you girls are too loud even for your size. I gotta piss and get some tea in me, but I¡¯ll go with you and make sure you don¡¯t accidentally start a fight with a Temptress.¡±


    Emilia rolled her eyes as Mirabel flitted up from her pillow, shaking her finger at both of them as she did. While the fairy was out doing her business, Emilia and Betsy put on a set of dark blue jogging clothes. They¡¯d ordered them together in order to ¡°go skulking,¡± without ever expecting to actually use them.


    When Mirabel returned, she motioned to the two girls. ¡°You match, it¡¯s fantastic. Let¡¯s go before I sober up enough to make this a bad idea.¡±


    No den mothers or resident advisors watched the hallways of the Sanctorum.Emilia guessed that had more to do with the fact the administration could spy on anyone they wanted to using magic and less to do with giving the students a measure of freedom.


    ¡°Where are we going anyway?¡± Betsy turned her head back to the others when she had her hand on the outer door. ¡°It¡¯s not like we can enter any tent we want.¡±


    Emilia rolled her eyes while Mirabel snickered. ¡°I just want to walk around, not sneak into places.¡±


    ¡°I gotta say, the Banderwols could learn a thing or two from you.¡± Mirabel laughed at her own esoteric joke while she pointed between Betsy and Emilia.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what that is¡­¡±


    Betsy spoke up. ¡°They¡¯re some kind of otherworlder thief, right?¡±


    Mirabel whistled and nodded. ¡°Someone¡¯s been paying attention to her lessons.¡± She tilted her head at Emilia. ¡°Not that ol¡¯ Boris has started teaching you the encyclopedia monstrae, so you¡¯re off the hook.¡±


    ¡°Thanks. Let¡¯s get out of here before we wake up one of the other people in the dorm room.¡± Emilia poked Betsy, who pushed the door open and led their group outside.


    Overhead, the sky glowed with the brightness of the stars. It was as if the canopy of heaven loomed closer here. Torches and gaslights flickered here and there about the camp, but the faint light they put out did nothing to interfere with the view of the sky. The moon had disappeared, or it was a new moon. Emilia wasn¡¯t certain either way.


    Betsy raised her hands in a shrug and swept her hand out over the camp. ¡°Where to?¡±


    As if fate answered her question, a small procession of people bearing hanging lamps appeared at the stone entrance to the camp. Emilia pointed over to where they appeared. ¡°There. Let¡¯s see what¡¯s happening.¡±


    Mirabel made a choking noise from Emilia¡¯s shoulder, but she didn¡¯t say anything or try to stop their explorations. After what the fairy had said about the masters forcing them to their limits, Mirabel¡¯s behavior made Emilia¡¯s gut clench. Chances were fair Mirabel was about to let them bumble their way into a lesson. The fairy had said she was basically a master.


    The small group of people who processed through the camp led a single man between them. Four people bracketed the man in the center. When they closed with the group, Emilia spotted a set of chains held between the four hooded figures. What she¡¯d taken as a hood from a distance with a black sack over the central man¡¯s head. Golden lines, like a spider web of shining paint, covered the hood. Once she focused on the hood, Emilia could see runes that warped and twisted along the man¡¯s hood.


    ¡°What is that?¡± Emilia raised her hand and pointed. ¡°Why are there runes on his hood?¡±


    Mirabel cocked an eyebrow at Emilia. ¡°I¡¯m surprised you can see that from here. That¡¯s a Fel Slave. A dumbass summoner who got themselves enslaved to a demon.¡±


    Betsy reacted more to Mirabel¡¯s news than Emilia did. A startled gasp and a hand over Betsy¡¯s face acted as a stark counterpoint to Emilia¡¯s sudden stillness. ¡°What do you mean, enslaved?¡±


    Mirabel shrugged. ¡°You¡¯re a rare case. Most of the idiots who summon demons without knowing what they¡¯re doing fuck up and summon something bigger and scarier than them. Or they fuck up the circle and the demon is freed. When that happens, the demon usually forces the summoner into the opposite arrangement that you have. They become Fel Slaves.¡±


    Every cell and atom in Emilia¡¯s body wanted to scream at Mirabel, wanted to demand a further explanation from her. But if she did, she might accidentally confess her own status to the fairy.


    Betsy found her tongue in the meantime. ¡°What happens to them?¡±


    ¡°Most Fel Slaves are little more than mindless extensions of their master¡¯s dark will. The Cabal and the admins bring them here and usually put them in storage while they try to figure out which demon claimed them¡±


    Emilia¡¯s throat finally relented. ¡°And then what?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s no way to break a true servant bond, not once its moved far enough along. So the Cabal tries to hunt down the demon and execute them. Sometimes the Fel Slave even survives their master¡¯s death.¡± Mirabel spoke with a dispassionate tone, like she read from the contents of a cookbook. ¡°This is boring, let¡¯s go find some mischief we can engage in¡­¡±


    Before Mirabel suggested vandalizing her most despised petunia pot, Emilia pointed at the group of five. ¡°I want to follow them.¡±

 Chapter 14 Cary - Field Trip

    ¡°Ms Cary.¡± The blinking whirring ball of gears appeared from nowhere and addressed Cary without preamble. Though she had worked in the Scriptorium for days now, Cary had not quite grown used to the automata and the way they blinked into existence. At least this time she did not attack it. ¡°Master Alshin would like to have you speak with Ms Dorcas and arrange for the two of you to collect a rare text. Ms Dorcas possesses the details of this task, please find her outside in the dining area. Thank you.¡±


    As far as Cary knew, those automata could literally appear from nowhere, but they always floated away, clanking as they did. She watched this one bump into the closed door to the archive rooms, flash a green light at the door as if scanning it, and then turn the knob to open it. The moment the strange little device vanished from her sight, Cary knew she would not be able to track it down and find it later.


    Rather than waste her time with such a fruitless task, Cary finished the transcription job she had been given, sealed the book, and deposited into the complete records chute she typically used. Pneumatic tubs sucked the book off to its final destination as Cary collected her materials and rose to follow the automata.


    As large as the Scriptorium was, Cary rarely encountered other people loitering within. The higher she walked, the more likely random encounters became. After Emilia fought off Esme, Cary had become something of a minor celebrity among the demons. It was not that Esme was unpopular, at least not as far as Cary could tell. Instead, she had a reputation for power and skill. It raised Emilia in Cary¡¯s estimation and that mattered far more than the esteem of random demons attached to the Sanctorum.


    This time up the winding stairs to the exit, she managed to avoid any other demons or mortal students. Outside, a light rain fell onto the camp, which should have reduced the well-trodden grounds to a swampy disaster of a mess. Instead, the grass and soil remained firm. No one ever seemed to track mud into the tents, no matter where they walked outside.


    Cary had never heard of mortal magicians so willing to expend magic for trivial purposes. Perhaps the camp had access to a source of magical power Cary could not sense. Or there were more powerful magicians in the camp than she had observed so far. The latter possibility was a near-certainty as far as Cary was concerned. Joshua knew his magic and had clearly spent a good deal of time training. But he was no Archmage. Among demons he would be little more than a curiosity, perhaps a promising student. Cary doubted, based on the way the camp consumed magic, that he held a major rank among the magicians here.


    Stepping into the dining hall, Cary searched for Emilia or her friends. Based on the hour, they might have gathered within for their evening meal. Cary¡¯s hopes were dashed. A good number of mortals gathered within the halls, as well as demon servers, but none of the mortals associated with Emilia or the mortal herself where there.


    ¡°Cary?¡± Spinning at Dorcas¡¯s voice, Cary found the ravishing Temptress ¡ª virtually redundant ¡ª bedecked in an apron, with her hair tied up atop her head and a pale blue dress on with a long skirt that flared at the bottom. ¡°Oh good, Master Alshin sent for you, right?¡±


    Cary licked her lips and bobbed her head, the words suddenly struck from her throat by the appearance of the Temptress. Had she been asked a month ago how she felt about the 1950¡¯s homemaker aesthete, Cary would have laughed and offered a note of scorn for the style. But with Dorcas standing there radiating innocent sexuality, Cary had trouble keeping her thoughts in order. Blinking as she realized she stared at the Temptress, Cary said, ¡°yes, Alshin. Sent me.¡±


    Either Dorcas was used to the reaction or she didn¡¯t give it a second¡¯s thought. ¡°Good! Let me change out of this apron and we can go! Wait right here.¡±


    Dorcas flitted away without waiting for Cary¡¯s answer. She disappeared into the crowd of demons that streamed into and out of the kitchens. Considering how little skin Dorcas showed off as she departed, Cary was surprised by how much of her attention Dorcas commanded.


    She was still staring after Dorcas when someone hit her in the back. As Cary spun on her assailant, a series of glass mugs hit the floor with a bright, tinkling sound. A few onlookers clapped at the fall, but they quickly turned away.


    ¡°Watch where you¡¯re fucking going, Hellspawn!¡± A man wearing a pink shirt with short sleeves and a high collar with a pair of beige slacks motioned to the soiled front of his shirt. ¡°Damnit! Look what you¡¯ve done!¡± Cary eyed him and remained silent. So far, he had not said anything that required Cary¡¯s reply. ¡°Are you fucking deaf?¡±


    A few of the nearby magicians and students backed away from Cary and the man, as if they knew something Cary did not. Now that she realized her silence tweaked the rude stranger¡¯s nose, Cary just stared him down.


    He kicked at the shards of glass on the floor and sneered at her. ¡°Clean this mess up, Hellspawn. And find me a new polo shirt!¡±


    This guy had no idea who Cary was. She was honestly surprised that he even knew she was a demon in the first place. Instead of standing there and waiting for him to attack her or issue a new order, Cary turned away from him to face the kitchen where she expected Dorcas to emerge.


    When he put his hand on Cary¡¯s upper arm, her temper flared. Rage seethed out of her pores and should have melted the offensive idiot¡¯s arm. He jerked at her and shouted, ¡°Hey!¡±


    Now the people around the had cleared a wide area around Cary and the stranger. Cary spun on her heel, shifting into her stone form as she did. She remained utterly silent.


    The man stared up into her cold eyes and the sight cowed him for a few seconds. But he gathered his courage and stepped into Cary¡¯s personal space. ¡°I said clean this mess up, you fucking demon!¡±


    Cary flexed her arm and jerked it up with near-simultaneous motions. The wind from the passage of her elbow ruffled the rude man¡¯s hair and he swayed as if the breeze had disturbed his balance. Recovering his footing, the man took a step backward and opened his mouth as if to chastise Cary again.


    ¡°Is something the matter here?¡± Dorcas¡¯s sweet voice rose up from behind Cary and it made her smile.


    The man turned from Cary to Dorcas and his glare softened a fraction. ¡°This idiot demon spilled my beers.¡±


    Cary opened her mouth to gainsay him, but Dorcas bustled past her and clucked her tongue. ¡°Well, well, that just won¡¯t do! Let¡¯s get you cleared up and arrange for some more beers!¡±


    Dorcas wove magics with her fingers, her back to Cary as she did. Feathers composed of light appeared midair as Dorcas chanted in a language Cary did not recognize. As those feathers alighted upon the shattered glass and spilled beer, the mess disintegrated as the feathers vanished. ¡°There we go! Mess cleared away¡­¡± Dorcas snapped and a nearby demon, a winged horror, appeared with a tray of pewter mugs. ¡°And here are some new drinks for you and your little friends.¡¯


    She leaned her arm on his shoulder as Dorcas spoke. The stranger nodded at her and grinned, most likely forgetting what had made him forget his ruckus at that point. Or so Cary thought.


    ¡°Wait a minute! That other demoness needs to be punished. She caused this whole problem in the first place!¡± The man focused his attention on Cary and tried to push past Dorcas.


    She didn¡¯t budge and the man looked around him as he pressed his body into the Temptress. His eyes lost their focus and he blinked at Dorcas as she said, ¡°I don¡¯t think you really need to shout, do you?¡±


    He shook his head, not caught in the full throes of Dorcas¡¯s power, unable to turn away even if he wanted to. ¡°No, I guess I don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°You ran into her because you weren¡¯t paying attention, or on purpose, didn¡¯t you?¡±


    The man gave Dorcas a vacant nod. ¡°I was staring at a hot demon¡¯s ass. But I didn¡¯t want anyone to see, so I made a scene.¡±


    ¡°Well that just doesn¡¯t make sense, does it?¡±


    ¡°No, it was foolish of me.¡±


    Dorcas patted him on the head. ¡°Well, you should get back to your little friends. Don¡¯t cause any more trouble, okay?¡±


    The man nodded at her, his eyes refusing to focus as he did.


    Once the man cleared the space provided for them by the crowd, Cary moved. ¡°Did you just manipulate him?¡±


    Dorcas grinned and brushed off her question. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry about that. Let¡¯s go meet with Master Alshin¡¯s courier, what do you say?¡±


    Cary snapped her jaw shut. After what happened to Esme, Cary had assumed that demons using their powers on mortals was considered some kind of breach. But no one accosted them as Dorcas led the way out of the dining hall with wings on her feet. For her part, Cary stared at Dorcas¡¯s rear. Hidden as it was behind several layers of skirt, Cary still found the sight of it swishing back and forth alluring.


    The moment they left the tent, Dorcas fell back against the canvas, fanning herself. Her skin was flushed with blood flow and her her pupils were dilated.


    ¡°Are you all right, Dorcas?¡±


    After a moment, Dorcas focused on Cary and her question. ¡°Oh, I will be fine in a few minutes. Restraining my aura is exhausting.¡±


    ¡°You mean you pheromone cloud?¡±


    Dorcas giggled and shook her head. ¡°I sometimes forget that you have a library¡¯s worth of knowledge in your head. Yes, the act of suppressing my pheromones is tiring. Once I have them under wraps, it¡¯s much easier. But reining them in in the first place makes me¡­ fatigued.¡±


    Cary suddenly wanted to know what Dorcas had been about to say more than anything. She bet all of her money and free time that Dorcas cut the truth as thin as a leaf. The same intuitive sense assured Cary that Dorcas was not going to admit it, whatever it was.


    People passed by them, entering or leaving the dining tent on their way to their appointed activities. Any thought of lingering to stare at Dorcas fled their minds when Cary turned her baleful glare on them.


    A few minutes passed as Dorcas gathered her breath. When she pushed herself off of the tent, Cary was more than ready to leave. At least the strange man who¡¯d accosted her in the dining hall had not returned.


    Dorcas grabbed Cary¡¯s hand, which was still in the form of a stone statue, and pulled her out of the camp. Until they stood at the edge of the Sanctum, Cary had not been able to see the archway that indicated the exit to the place. One moment she followed Dorcas over to the road side of the camp, the next they stood on the stone platform beneath the arches to leave.


    ¡°You can drive, right?¡±


    Dorcas¡¯s question surprised Cary. ¡°Sure. I mean, I have never formally studied, but I have driven under adverse conditions successfully.¡± Would mentioning how she¡¯d driven a car through a night-dark forest and into an office building make her case stronger or weaker? Cary was not certain in the moment, so she left the incident unspoken.


    ¡°That works for me. Let¡¯s go!¡± Dorcas pulled her out between the arches and the camp behind them faded into the mists. ¡°We need to walk to the carpark. It¡¯s not far.¡±


    Cary could have pulled her hand out of Dorcas¡¯s. It felt like being unfaithful to Emilia. Perhaps it was. Though Cary¡¯s interest in the Temptress had only grown after the way she managed the near-attack in the dining hall, she was still loyal to Emilia in her heart. The thoughts were foreign to the demoness, as if the memories of Emilia¡¯s life she held onto somehow colored her personality.


    ¡°I forgot to thank you for helping me in the dining hall.¡± Cary tugged on Dorcas¡¯s hand. ¡°Thank you for your help.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t mention it. Benjamin Regils is a jerk anyway. Anything I can do to cause him trouble, I will.¡±


    ¡°I did not know his name.¡±


    Dorcas waved back toward the camp. He¡¯s part of the faction who thinks demons should be treated like dirt. You¡¯ve noticed the different groups in the camp?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, mortals, otherworlders, and demons.¡±


    ¡°Exactly.¡± Dorcas held up her hand. ¡°The mortals think they¡¯re in charge, but the Queen and her entourage are the real power in the camp. That puts the Otherworlders ahead of the mortals. It makes the mortals who know the truth a little snippy.¡±


    ¡°He seemed a lot more than ¡®snippy¡¯ to me.¡±


    ¡°Well, after your little mortal master put Esme in her place, it emboldened the other mortals. They¡¯re spoiling for their own fights against a demon.¡±


    ¡°I take it that no one in the camp cares for us?¡±


    Dorcas snorted and shook her head. ¡°That is correct. Demons are only allowed in because of the magic we command. And even then, we either have to be a mortal¡¯s servant, possess a rare and useful power, or we have to be political refugees.¡±


    ¡°That last one seems out of place.¡±


    Dorcas nodded. ¡°It¡¯s the queen¡¯s own law. She offers refuge to any who truly need it and who are willing to abide by her other laws. My sister and I got in due to the refugee clause, though we¡¯re both useful in our own ways.¡± At the final sentence, Dorcas grimaced as if she didn¡¯t quite believe what she¡¯d said. ¡°Maybe not my twin so much.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s not useful?¡±


    Glancing around to see if they were being spied on, Dorcas said, ¡°No. She¡¯s terrible at most magics and only uses her natural abilities to curry favor with powerful demons and mortals. If she studied or applied herself, she might be decent, maybe even good.¡±


    ¡°And you, you seem better than good.¡±


    Dorcas¡¯s hand twitched. ¡°You¡¯re just saying that.¡±


    ¡°I am not. The cleaning spell you used, that was Aloycius¡¯s Magical Discernment combined with something else, right?¡±


    A small grin blossomed over Dorcas¡¯s mouth. ¡°Maybe a little. I¡¯m impressed you recognized the basic spell. That¡¯s really rare.¡±


    ¡°Yes, well, as I have said, I studied a good deal of theoretical magic over the years. What stumps me is the actual cleaning effect you used.¡±


    Rolling her shoulders, Dorcas nodded. ¡°I¡¯d be more surprised if you knew that one.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Because I developed it myself. As far as I know. I¡¯m the only person in the world who casts it.¡±


    At that admission, Cary froze in her tracks. ¡°You are making fun of me, why?¡±


    Dorcas stammered. ¡°I swear that I am not. I made that spell up a few years ago to eliminate bad odors and expanded it to include messes of all kinds. Until I incorporated the Discernment the spell had a nasty chance of dissolving whatever vessel or surface it was supposed to clean. I guess technically it was trying to dissolve the surfaces.¡±


    ¡°That is amazing! Spell Creation is a terribly rare art. Even I know that much.¡±


    Dorcas¡¯s blush grew as she ducked her head and stared at the gravel road under their feet. ¡°Yes, it¡¯s part of what put Esme and me in so much danger. The sudden mood shift put Cary entirely off balance. ¡°We¡¯re lucky the Sanctum took us in, or we might both be dead.¡±


    ¡°I am sorry it has caused you undo trouble.¡± Cary grabbed Dorcas¡¯s hand. ¡°Power tends to do that, right?¡±


    Dorcas squeezed Cary¡¯s hand and nodded. ¡°Yeah, it sure does. It¡¯s why I wish I didn¡¯t have it most of the time.¡±


    Dorcas¡¯s answer hung in the void and chilled further conversation between the two, until the trees at the edge of the road retreated to reveal an asphalt parking lot. Among other things, Cary identified the van sitting near the entrance as the one that had picked her and Emilia up and brought them here.


    Passing by the van, Dorcas walked over to a short red sports car, with lines similar to the one Cary had smashed through a corporate window in order to save Emilia. ¡°I have driven this sort of automobile before.¡±


    She walked over to the left side of the car and paused. Looking over her shoulder, Dorcas had followed her. ¡°Why does this not fill me with confidence?¡±


    The Temptress flashed a grin at Cary and pointed to the left side of the car. ¡°It¡¯s confusing because Armenians drive on the same side of the road as Americans.But this is Europe, many of the cars are designed to be driven on the left hand side.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ had no idea.¡± A blush crept up to Cary¡¯s face and stuck there as she walked around to the right side of the car. ¡°This seems less safe.¡±


    ¡°Do not worry. I doubt this car will move fast enough to kill either of us. Not that you should be careless.¡± Playful tones danced from Dorcas¡¯s lips. ¡°I could drive if you¡¯d prefer.¡±


    ¡°Would you prefer to drive?¡± Cary raised an eyebrow as Dorcas opened the car doors with her remote key.


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    ¡°No, since we¡¯re not really in danger, I would like to see how you fare. Try not to kill anyone else.¡±


    Cary had no reply to Dorcas¡¯s teasing, other than to hop into the vehicle after her. As she fasted her seatbelt, Cary realized that Dorcas had relaxed by a noticeable measure around Cary. She did not know what she had done. But something had calmed the Temptress¡¯s urge to recoil into her own personal space.


    The little red sports car roared to life as Cary pressed the activation button. Compared to the timbre of the engine in the first red sports car Cary had driven, this little automobile held a lion in the block. Without meaning to, Cary peeled out of the parking space and missed a large truck by a small enough margin she could not see it with her mirrors. ¡°Hmm.¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    Now Cary¡¯s face all but vibrated with embarrassment. At least she had not stuck anything, especially a stationary vehicle. Caution guided her course through the parking lot, sending the little car lurching forward by inches. ¡°I am not used to the speed this sports car is capable of.¡±


    Dorcas¡¯s lips turned up as she visibly suppressed the smile she had worn there since Cary stepped into the cabin. Once they reached a straight length of road, Cary pressed on the gas and let the sports car tear at the pavement.


    Their driving arrangement turned out to be strictly necessary. Though Cary might have been able to eventually understand the paper map Dorcas wielded, night would have fallen and the sun would have risen on a new morning first.


    ¡°Our turn is coming up in about two hundred yards.¡± Dorcas interpreted the map and Cary coordinated her speed to match. Their rear wheels spun over the road, skidding and squealing as Cary took the turn faster than she intended. A few pedestrians stopped to note their passage, but Cary did not come close to slamming into anyone.


    They stopped before a squat stone building with a low panel of windows in the front and a raised stone lip. Metal bars protected the glass in an arrangement that might have stopped Cary and her little red sports car. Good thing Samantha¡¯s sorcerer cult did not think to instal such useful security devices on their own building.


    ¡°This is our destination.¡± Dorcas pointed to a parking spot where Cary pulled in and turned off the car.


    As she stood up and climbed out of the car, Cary¡¯s seat thrummed in sympathy with the engine. A similar intoxicating lure pulled at her as Cary felt from Emilia and Dorcas. She enjoyed driving that fast little rumbling car, far more than the first one she drove with Joshua. The difference was clear to Cary. That first car lacked the power of the second, and her second trip lacked the urgency of the first.


    A sign hanging above the barred windows read ¡°Book Dealer¡± in Armenian. Not being fluent in the language, Cary could not tell if the phrase indicated a specific kind of book trade or it it was intended to be generic. Dorcas led the way and opened the door for Cary, whosmiled in response to the curtesy.


    Inside of the bookstore reminded Cary of Mystical Wonders, the store where she had met Emilia. The principle difference lay in the fact that books were this store¡¯s main trade and the Wonders had primarily dealt in New Age curios and books second.


    Cary¡¯s nose detected the reek of incense and sweat, but the sweet smell of worn paper and binding glue overwhelmed the non-book odors. If Dorcas had not been here of if they had not had their own mission, Cary might have wandered these shelves for a an hour or more. The Scriptorium smelled lovely, but nothing compared to the atmosphere of old books mixed with new that this store managed to exude in a perfect balance.


    A man in a faded plaid shirt with braces holding up his pants stood behind the counter at the back of the store, a cleared aisle gave him a view of the entrance from his perch. He nodded to Dorcas, who passed him a short wave. Cary started forward, obviously this was their contact, when Dorcas grabbed the back of her shirt. ¡°Not that way, this way.¡±


    The old man ignored them further as Dorcas and Cary moved around the wall to the right. Walking by the stacks of books without pulling one off the shelves physically hurt Cary¡¯s neck as she followed Dorcas. With the Temptress charging forward, Cary stopped as her eyes caught on the back of a book of Armenian love poetry. She pulled the book out and found a pair of women in silhouette exchanging a rose on the cover. It spoke to her and Cary clutched the book to her chest.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Dorcas favored Cary with a tilted head and a crooked grin. Wrapped as she was in her mission, Dorcas had grown downright bold.


    ¡°I want to buy this as a gift for a friend.¡±


    ¡°A friend?¡±


    Cary found herself squirming. From her memories, Emilia adored poetry, though she lacked opportunities during most of her life to properly explore her interest. This dusty book would make an ideal gift. As Cary stared at Dorcas and back at the text in her hands, she realized that she had never procured a gift for anyone in her life. When the notion occurred to her, it came as naturally as recovering from stubbing her toe. And like walking, when she paid attention to the idea, Cary began to fumble. ¡°Maybe this was a bad idea¡­¡±


    She started to return the book to the shelves, but Dorcas put her hand over Cary¡¯s. ¡°This is for your mortal master?¡± Pulling the book out of Cary¡¯s slackened grip, she turned it over and examined the cover. Dorcas nodded and handed the book back to Cary. ¡°I believe she will appreciate it. If you need help paying for it, I brought a wallet full of Drams with me.¡±


    The heat from Cary¡¯s face should have lit Dorcas with a red glow. Shaking her head, Cary said, ¡°I have an expense account from the Cabal. I believe I can use it here, yes?¡±


    ¡°Yes, you can.¡± Dorcas nodded and turned back around. After the brief exchange, Dorcas turned back to Cary several times on the way to their mysterious destination. ¡°We should but it before we meet with our contact. You speak the language, right?¡±


    Cary¡¯s blush deepened. ¡°Yes, but not particularly well.¡± Her opportunities to speak Armenian had been few and far between. Though her memory helped her record the words, it did not help her with diction, did not help her recognize strange colloquialims or other linguistic quirks. Besides, like most adults, embarrassment made it harder for Cary to speak to people in a foreign tongue.


    ¡°Then I can help if you need.¡± Dorcas shifted direction back toward the center back of the shop. When the proprietor saw them coming, he raised his eyebrows and set the large tome he hunched over to the side.


    ¡°What do you want?¡± The words and tone made Cary feel as though her interruption was not a welcome one.


    ¡°I, er, I would like to buy this book.¡± She slid the book over to the storekeeper and his grimace faded as he turned it over to see the front.


    ¡°You know this book?¡± His face remained screwed into a mask of irritation.


    ¡°I do not, but the cover looked good.¡± Cary felt like a baby trying to speak to a professor with the speed the man used when he addressed her.


    ¡°It¡¯s good. You have smart tastes.¡± At no point did his face change from permanent annoyed expression he wore, but he gave Cary a thumbs up and slammed the fingers of his other hand into his cash register to produce a total.


    Cary handed over her credit card the Cabal had provided her. His grimace deepened at the sight of the plastic card, but the old man took out a small machine and took an imprint of Cary¡¯s card and wrote the total on a receipt. She had never seen such an apparatus for recording transactions before, but Dorcas did not raise any alarms about the sale or method of purchase.


    He handed the book back to Cary and said in English, ¡°Enjoy, is truly good.¡±


    Cary could not help but grin at the incongruity between the man¡¯s words and his facial expression. She bowed to him and followed Dorcas back through the store to a small service door they had passed earlier. ¡°He knows we use his store for¡­ meetings?¡±


    Dorcas nodded and opened the door. ¡°Yes. The Sanctorum pays him a monthly stipend to act as something like a post office. I think the Armenian government might have a similar arrangement with him, though I do not know that for certain.¡±


    ¡°I see. And the mixture of loyalties is not a problem?¡±


    ¡°No, the Armenian government supports the Sanctorum directly and indirectly. The only requirement they make of us is that we have to help in the national defense.¡±


    From what she had read, many ancient societies and kingdoms had made the local magicians extensions of the government in one way or another. The way Dorcas and Joshua described it, the arrangement between the Sanctorum and the Armenian polity fell along different lines. She did not wish to press the matter at that time, so Cary shut her mouth as she and Cary walked through the halls.


    The walls here reminded Cary of Samantha¡¯s corporate base, metal walls and ceilings separated by the occasional door and overhead light as well as the concrete floors made up the primary difference. Of course, this place was not located in a demi-plane.


    ¡°What is this place?¡± Cary¡¯s curiosity overwhelmed her urge to remain silent and sneak through the tunnels.


    ¡°This was an old military fortification, I believe one that provided support for the Sanctorum, though you would have to check the ledgers in the Scriptorium to know for certain.¡±


    ¡°We are meeting a courier here?¡±


    Dorcas nodded. ¡°He doesn¡¯t enjoy the sunlight especially. You¡¯ll see.¡±


    The words made Cary¡¯s skin crawl. Trust in anyone came hard for the demoness. As innocent and kind as Dorcas acted, Cary never forgot that she bore the form of the Temptress. For all Cary knew, innocent and pure comprised some part of her temptation. Praying to the infernal gods that it was not so, Cary continued to follow Dorcas. The deeper they walked into the tunnels, the harder Cary gripped her new book.


    Never having given anyone a gift before, she struggled to imagine how Emilia might react. The fact Cary was technically forbidden from seeing her servant meant nothing to Cary. She would simply need to contrive a circumstance under which to meet with Emilia.


    Dorcas stopped and Cary had to catch herself on the rusted wall lest she collide with the Temptress. ¡°We¡¯re here.¡± Tracing the curves of an intricate figure on the wall, Dorcas mumbled a chant under her breath. Light followed her finger as a doorway materialized in the steel wall. ¡°Follow me.¡±


    Hair standing on their ends, Cary followed Dorcas through the portal. If this turned out to be a demiplane, she planned to be irritated with Dorcas. Instead of a dimensional transition, Cary discovered nothing more than a slightly better kept section of steel walls. Though rust pocked the walls and ceiling, both surfaces bore the clear evidence of thorough cleansing.


    A tall grey stature sat in the middle of the room with an imposing frown on its face. Wings rose over his back, that ended in hooked talons. Fangs jutted from the creature¡¯s frown and it squatted back on its legs.


    At once, Cary recognized the ¡°statue¡± as a gargoyle. She had spent a good deal of her life as a stone creature herself, so she could tell that no hammer or chisel had ever been lain against this creature¡¯s body. Dorcas¡¯s comment about the creature avoiding the surface made sense now too. During the night the gargoyle could safely travel the earth. But a single kiss from the rays of the sun would turn the gargoyle into an actual statue. In his position, Cary would have chosen a nice deep series of tunnels to call her own.


    ¡°Barnala, you have something for us?¡±


    The gargoyle turned its head slowly to regard Cary. ¡°You bring a newcomer? Who?¡±


    Dorcas motioned to Cary. ¡°This is the demoness, Cary.¡±


    ¡°Demonesss. Why kind of demonic form does this slip of a woman possess?¡±


    Now Cary found herself in her own element. Rather than let Dorcas speak for her, Cary shifted into stone and stepped between Dorcas and the gargoyle. ¡°I command several forms, Stone One, and unlike you I can walk out into the sun. Cary suppressed the urge to stick her tongue out at Barnala; that was something Emilia might have done.


    The old gargoyle rumbled at her from his chest deep within his chest. ¡°I like the cut of your lines, girl. If I were a younger man¡­¡±


    Cary tittered at that; she could not help herself. ¡°I bet I¡¯m at least a millennium older than you, youngster.¡±


    At her words, the gargoyle¡¯s rumble grew. ¡°I doubt that very much, I was but a stone chip when the Romans laid the first brick into their Vatican. You can¡¯t be older than a thousand.¡±


    Glancing back at Dorcas, Cary said, ¡°when the Semitic tribes were still united under their mountain god, before the oceans claimed Mycenae, I was already thousands of years old. I recall the first human settlements upon the Catal Hyiuk as encroachments upon a domain my parents held for the better part of a thousand years.¡±


    Dorcas gasped and her jaw dropped opened. The gargoyle rotated his head to get a better look at Cary. ¡°You¡¯ve not taken a scratch for all your years. Not that I can see.¡±


    Cary shrugged and shook her stone form away. ¡°That is because I am a Formless One, and old even for my people.¡±


    At her announcement of her nature, Barnala scoffed. ¡°Aliens¡­¡± he shook his body as well, shifting from stone to flesh. Only a thin loincloth covered his lower body while the flesh of his belly looked as though the muscles had been painted on by a master. ¡°Never can tell the age of the Alien.¡±


    Cary had nothing further to say. Some otherworld races, especially the Elves and their kin abhorred Aliens like herself. But Barnala did not appear to share their biases. Until that moment, she had not heard that particular appellation thrown about the Sanctorum, even by residents who knew her true nature.


    Dorcas glanced between Barnala¡¯s almost nude body and Cary¡¯s challenging stance and rolled her eyes. ¡°If you two are done?¡± Barnala rumbled and Cary shrugged. ¡°Good, Master Alshin indicated you had found something valuable for us, Barnala?¡±


    The gargoyle puffed his chest out and said, ¡°Yes! I found a scroll that your greedy little librarian will appreciate, or I¡¯m a tourist¡¯s knickknack!¡± He turned and waddled over to a spot in the corner of his room. Lowering himself to the floor, he blocked Cary¡¯s view of his activities, but the shriek of metal grinding against metal told her that he opened some kind of artifice. ¡°Here!¡±


    When he turned around, Barnala exhibited a long gilded scroll case. As she stared at the surface, Cary¡¯s head began to ache. The runes and characters upon the case writhed and morphed to her gaze, shifting with the same liquid quality her own species possessed. Dorcas¡¯s hand alighted onto her shoulder as Cary took an involuntary step toward the golden case.


    ¡°By the Boundary itself, what is that thing?¡± Cary held her hand up to block the sight of the case from view.


    ¡°I believe it is a reliquary, one enchanted by Infernals older even than you, Formless One.¡± Barnala¡¯s pride was warranted, if his claim was true.


    Dorcas strode forward with confidence in every step. ¡°If this is what you claim, Master Alshin will pay handsomely for the find.¡±


    ¡°As agents of the chief archivist, I would be a madman to lie to either of you. It is what I claim, by the Beginning and the End.¡± Barnala held his hand over his heart as he spoke the oath with his head held high. ¡°I expect the usual payment?¡±


    ¡°Of course, once the master confirms the scroll¡¯s nature.¡± Dorcas regarded the scroll with obvious disdain, avoiding staring it as much as possible. She deposited the scroll into a silken green sack she pulled from an extra dimensional space. Cary noted that she did not return the sack to the same space after dropping the scroll within.


    ¡°Good. Then I bid you both a good day. I have more sleep to engage in.¡± Barnala swept them both out of his room with his hands, the door opened on its own for them. As Cary stepped through,he added, ¡°and you, little Formless Alien, come visit me again sometime. I would love to compare notes on the Crusades.¡±


    Cary waved at him without committing to his invitation. She did not wish to obligate herself to the gargoyle, especially in light of the fact she did not know when or if she would be permitted to leave the Sanctorum again.


    ¡°Did he invite you back?¡± Dorcas awaited Cary back in the hallway.


    ¡°Yes, is it a trap?¡±


    Dorcas tilted her head at Cary and covered her mouth. ¡°No, or I guess, I do not think so. Barnala gets lonely, I think. If you do come back here, you will have to listen to his stories. Unless he has business to conduct, he gets chatty.¡±


    That seemed a small price to pay for knowledge. Besides, Cary had long years of experience in listening, she had not tried her own patience in such matters, not since freeing herself from her former master, Elelele.


    Glancing down at the green sack on Dorcas¡¯s side, Cary said, ¡°That scroll disturbed my mind. It made me want to reach out and snatch it from Barnala, why?¡±


    Raising an eyebrow, Dorcas said, ¡°That means you need to work on your mental guards. I¡¯m honestly a little surprised you started after it and planned to ask you about that later.¡±


    ¡°It is enchanted then, I have never seen the like.¡±


    ¡°Even more interesting, our ancient demoness has never seen this little scroll case? Huh!¡± Cary flexed her neck side to side and Dorcas said, ¡°I am only teasing you. I¡¯m honestly a little surprised at how old you are. You¡¯re older than Masters Alshin and Boris. You might even be older than the Queen herself.¡±


    ¡°I have never met her, though based on the little I have heard, I doubt I am older than her.¡±


    Dorcas shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t think anyone really knows, but it¡¯s totally possible.¡±


    ¡°Does my age disturb you?¡± Cary almost grumbled to herself, but the recent encounter with Barnala¡¯s own rumblings made her self-conscious.


    ¡°Not disturb, exactly.¡± As if she caught herself mid-admission, Dorcas bit her lip. In the darkness, she was the near-spitting image of Emilia, down to the way she held her body. Cary coughed into her palm and deliberately focused on anything but the Temptress.


    For the rest of their journey out into the bookstore, the two remained silent. Dorcas occasionally shot Cary glances, which she noticed out of the corner of her eye. From this side of the door, Cart noticed a series of elaborate locks that acted to keep the curious out of these tunnels. She did not recall Dorcas doing anything complicated enough to deactivate those locks on the way into these depths. She held her curiosity in check as she watched Dorcas manipulate the locks to open the door.


    The lovely aroma of books wrapped itself around Cary as she walked back out of the tunnels, her own book of poetry still clutched in her arms.


    ¡°I feel as though we were gone longer than the sun suggests.¡± Cary shielded her eyes as she stared up into the sky. It hung lower than she expected.


    ¡°The tunnels are part of Earth, but the passage of time can be deceptive down there¡­¡± She sounded distracted, as if concerned about an entirely different matter than the time. Before Cary could ask her what was wrong, Dorcas said, ¡°do you see our car?¡±


    Cary knew exactly where they had parked. An empty patch of asphalt and paint marked that location. When Cary gingerly walked into the space, she did not bump up against the side of the little red sports car. ¡°It is definitely gone.¡±


    Dorcas gritted her teeth and covered her eyebrows with her hand as she scanned the horizon. ¡°We should go back into the store.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± A buzzing feeling covered Cary¡¯s shoulders, as if someone had thrown a hair shirt over them rather suddenly. ¡°Get down!¡±


    The only warning Cary had was a glint of light off of some distant object. Her body shifted into her stone form as she threw herself atop Dorcas. A split-second later, the report of a supersonic rifle round alerted Cary to the fact they had been shot at.A ricochet from the stone wall behind them informed Cary of how near the bullet had passed.


    Dorcas froze, apparently in shock as Cary pulled herself off the Temptress and continued to scan the area from a crouch. When a second explosion lit the air, Cary felt the round strike the side of her head and rock it back. If not for her stone form, she would have taken that bullet right between the eyes. As it was, the impact made her neck ache.


    Still unmoving, Dorcas lay on the ground as Cary recovered from the bullet strike. After a second¡¯s pause, Cary grabbed Dorcas by the back of her dress and hauled her up under her arm. Though she could not confirm the sniper¡¯s angles, she did not believe he or she could see below her own neck.


    The third round made a much louder sound than the first two. Cary stumbled back, almost losing her grip on Dorcas as an explosion blossomed against her forehead. Her world tilted and the flash blinded Cary as the bullet¡¯s sonic boom reached her belatedly. ¡°Dorcas, I need you to move. But do not stand up! Please hurry.¡±


    Blinded as she was, Cary had to rely on feeling the weight of Dorcas¡¯s body shifting to know she had started moving. When Dorcas¡¯s weight changed, Cary felt around for her back and laid her hand over her sacrum. ¡°Don¡¯t stand up higher than this.¡±


    ¡°Was that an explosion?¡± Dorcas¡¯s voice rose to a panic.


    ¡°Yes. But try not to think about it. We need to find cover.¡± At a time like this, Cary pined for the ancestral powers her kind possessed. Though her stone body protected her from whatever their enemies were shooing, her real powers would have made escaping this dilemma trivial. A little concentration and Cary could have protected Dorcas as well as herself. As it was, Cary had to rely on her mental image of the parking lot and the bookstore¡¯s building to find the entrance and crawl back in.


    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± The storekeeper¡¯s tone had shifted to something other than irritation. ¡°Is someone shooting at my store?¡±


    A blast struck the windows as if to answer his question before Cary or Dorcas could respond. Rather than shattering glass, the only signal of a round striking the windows was a single massive thunder crack.


    ¡°That is a yes.¡± Cary¡¯s vision recovered enough to see that the storekeeper held a shotgun in his hands as he walked over to the door. ¡°Do not go out there!¡±


    The shopkeeper¡¯s figure paused before he opened the door. ¡°I am going to shoot those pigs in their pathetic faces!¡±


    ¡°They are at least,¡± Cary did some quick mental calculations in her head. ¡°Three hundred feet away. If that¡¯s a shotgun, you wouldn¡¯t hurt them even if you could see them.¡±


    ¡°Tch.¡± The shopkeeper removed his hand from the door as he turned back to Cary and Dorcas. ¡°Then we go out the back. Come.¡±


    Cary¡¯s mind was still addled from taking a high explosive shot to the face. She followed the gruff old back toward the counter before her thoughts coalesced enough to realize why they did not want to leave through the back. ¡°Wait! They also stole our vehicle. This is not a chance attack. Whoever this is would consider the rear a valid escape point.¡±


    ¡°Then what do we do?¡± Dorcas huddled down below the sales desk, waiting for permission from Cary or the shopkeeper to advance.


    Cary growled as more shots rang against the glass. Too many options crossed her mind then; the shots out front could be a diversion and the rear the true assault. The front could be the only angle of attack out for them. Or there could be a tactical squad incoming on their permission at the same time as she crouched there trying to think her way out of their situation.


    The shopkeeper made the decision for them. ¡°Fuck this! We leave out the back!¡± He kicked the inner door open as automatic weapons fire opened up on the front windows. Cary and Dorcas hustled through his offices, hot on the shopkeeper¡¯s trail. Ignoring the random assortment of items on either side of them, Cary pushed Dorcas ahead of her. The shopkeeper opened the rear door with a key from his belt and rolled out through the heavy metal doorway. As Cary stepped through a flash of green overtook her vision.


    Already in her stone form, she held her breath and refused to inhale any of the possible toxins in the cloud. It did not matter as the green cloud coalesced around her, forming a hard shell that resisted even her own enhanced strength.


    A magical field washed over her, forcing Cary back into her flesh body as a figure wearing a full body suit rushed her and injected her with a hypodermic needle. The fact that she had been correct about the ambush from the rear gave Cary little comfort as darkness stole away her consciousness.

 Chapter 15 Emilia - The Opposite of Boring

    Mirabel fluttered around Emilia¡¯s head. ¡°This is a stupid idea, even for you, mortal.¡±


    ¡°Then why not try to stop us?¡± Betsy kept her voice low enough that the people leading the Fel Slave wouldn¡¯t hear.


    ¡°Eh. Stupid ideas are good learning experiences.¡± Swishing to and fro, with her finger on her lip, Mirabel added. ¡°Besides, this is the opposite of boring.¡±


    Emilia waved both of her companions off. She¡¯d been studying the four hooded people. One of them, the man in front possessed a heavy build. His robe billowed around his body in a way that suggested mass. The man in the back walked with a gait that tickled the back of Emilia¡¯s memory, like she¡¯d seen someone who walked with a similar fashion before.


    They moved slowly, anchored by the man they kept between them. With a new angle on the group, Emilia could see the chains around his neck and waist. The black metal chains shared a feature with the man¡¯s robes: golden spider-like runes flickered and races along the links.


    The odd part about their path was that nothing lay ahead of them, as if they were about to leave through the opposite end of the camp. ¡°Where are they going?¡± Nothing lay before them, no tents or other visible structures.


    Mirabel opened her mouth to answer, but Emilia and Betsy darted forward from their cover. They followed the near edge of the camp, staying just on the manicured side of the forest lest they lose themselves in the woods in the dark. ¡°Bah, let¡¯s just keep following them, der.¡± Mirabel sounded irritated with the girls, which was rare enough for the fairy for Emilia to look back at her.


    ¡°Are you coming or not?¡±


    Mirabel floated in the air with her arms folded over her chest. ¡°I¡¯m trying to decide if I will get in more trouble if I let you go or if I turn around and go home.¡±


    ¡°Do what you want, but we¡¯re going to explore with or without you.¡± The fairy took Emilia¡¯s bait. Despite the darkness, Mirabel¡¯s face darkened like her head was about to explode. She shook herself and zipped after Emilia.


    ¡°I¡¯m not being left behind for exploring!¡± Mirabel landed on Emilia¡¯s shoulder. ¡°If we get caught, I¡¯m telling them you fairy-napped me.¡±


    ¡°Okay, thanks.¡± Emilia tapped Mirabel gently on the head as Betsy hissed at them.


    ¡°Look!¡±


    Following where Betsy pointed, Emilia saw a black spire rise from the soil at the distant edge of the camp. The very tip of the spire glowed with a faint green light. Golden runes, the twins of the runes about the captive Fel Slave twined over the spire and danced in an even more vigorous pattern through the black stone.


    ¡°Okay, you found the big secret, now it¡¯s time to go home.¡±


    An edge of fear sharped Mirabel¡¯s voice, something Emilia had never heard from the fairy. The change in mannerism gave Emilia a moment¡¯s pause. Then a green-lit doorway opened in the spire and the five people proceeded through it.


    Less than a hundred yards away, Emilia experienced a sudden urge to to know what lay within, to understand the full extent of the risks she¡¯d accepted about this place without knowing. She sprinted off with Mirabel clinging to her shoulder and Betsy lagging behind.


    The pace Emilia managed was like her acute night and distance vision. In her life, she¡¯d never run as fast as she did then. She hadn¡¯t known herself capable of that incredible speed until that moment. Ahead of her, the green light from the entrance to the spire began to fade. Desperation pulled a feral burst of power from her legs. Energy flowed up through the soles of her shoes and fed her straining muscles with a blast of nitrous.


    Skidding under the door, Emilia cleared the entrance moments before the entrance to the spire slid down behind her.


    ¡°Holy fucking shit, we¡¯re in trouble now!¡± Mirabel¡¯s voice squeaked loud enough Emilia expected the group of four escorts to hear them right away.


    It took her ears several seconds to recover. Outside of the spire, crickets chirped, birds sang, and the wind played its own magical song through the trees. But inside of the spire, a constant drone set Emilia¡¯s teeth on edge. After her hearing recovered, she relaxed. The drone had a dulling effect on sound, the only reason Mirabel had sounded so loud was that she shouted into Emilia¡¯s ears. A few feet away and Emilia would not be able to hear the fairy.


    Green light enveloped her, shining from every surface in the black spire. The stone itself was the same black Emilia had seen outside. But it lacked the gold tracing and the stone itself did not appear green to Emilia¡¯s vision, as if the green light were a feature of the air itself. That light made Emilia¡¯s skin crawl. It only took her a few seconds to realize that her connection to Cary had been dulled. She could still feel the demoness in the distance, but Cary had trouble pinpointing her location now.


    ¡°What is this light?¡±


    Mirabel¡¯s voice was quiet this time, drowned out by the constant hum. ¡°These are the Shamir.¡± Emilia turned her head to find Mirabel waving her hand through the air. ¡°On the plus side, they don¡¯t consider us enemies.¡±


    ¡°What are Shamir and how do you know that?¡±


    Mirabel¡¯s voice dropped and her eyes lost focus. ¡°One of the greatest Magicians in history, second only to Aaron and Melchizdek was Suleiman the Wise.¡±At the mention of the name, the green light intensified, the glow becoming strong enough that Emilia had to squint through it. Mirabel paused until the light faded again. ¡°Legends say he subdued the Shamir and used them to build his temple using neither stone, nor tool of metal. Personally, I don¡¯t think he subdued them¡­¡± The light faded even further, dulling beyond the point it started. ¡°I think he just treated them like trusted friends and they responded in kind.¡±


    ¡°They?¡±


    As if in response to Emilia¡¯s question, a flurry of lights gathered before her. They glowed brighter than the surrounding air and formed the shape of a character in the air.


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    ¡°Yup, those are the Shamir for sure then.¡± Mirabel pointed to the character. ¡°That¡¯s Hebrew for ¡®A,¡¯ or rather Aleph. I think they¡¯re saying ¡®hi.¡¯¡±


    ¡°Hello there! It¡¯s¡­ nice to meet you?¡± The lights dissipated at Emilia¡¯s greeting. ¡°What happened?¡±


    Mirabel shrugged. ¡°They don¡¯t think like you and me. Maybe they¡¯re shy?I don¡¯t know. Honestly, I just exhausted my deep, master-level knowledge of the Shamir. The build things and were sometimes described as little green worms that ate stone.¡±


    Emilia peered into the light, but didn¡¯t respond to Mirabel. The full extent of the danger she¡¯d put them in had settled onto her shoulders. ¡°How do we get out of here?¡±


    ¡°Fucking mortals.¡± Mirabel flew off of Emilia¡¯s shoulder and pointed into her face. ¡°That would have been a really good question to ask yourself before you dashed in here like some kind of maniac. You even left Betsy behind!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I didn¡¯t mean to.¡± Emilia actually felt bad about that part.


    ¡°Bah, you plan like a fucking stone.¡±


    Rather than ask what she meant by that, Emilia ignored Mirbel¡¯s complaints and took stock of their position. The doorway behind them had shut and as far as she could tell, the hallway continued back the same direction. ¡°Shit. There¡¯s not even a door here. Let¡¯s¡­ go follow the Fel Slave.¡± Grumbling, Mirabel sat back down on Emilia¡¯s shoulder and began a soft chant. ¡°What are you doing?¡±


    Mirabel continued the chant until magical energy covered Emilia, though she couldn¡¯t say what the fairy had done. ¡°I surrounded us with an illusion. At this point, I will get in as much trouble as you if they catch us. And I don¡¯t want to have my head lopped off, thank you very much.¡±


    Emilia forced herself to pretend Mirabel was exaggerating. Otherwise, she would have panicked and turned tail. ¡°We can¡¯t be seen, right?¡±


    ¡°Or heard, not outside of about a foot away. So if I fly off, don¡¯t sprint away from me like a madwoman or they¡¯ll see you. If we encounter anyone, just stay put and keep the movements to a minimum.¡±


    Emilia wanted to ask more, but Mirabel sounded grumpy enough that she might yell at Emilia. ¡°I wish we could find the Fel Slaves.¡± They were why she¡¯d come to this place to begin with. Cary had never mentioned anything about enslaving Emilia¡¯s will and the thought the demoness could do something like that to her made Emilia¡¯s throat tighten. At the same time, a part of her assured her that Cary would never do something like that. Cary loved her, though the demoness had never admitted it. Then again, neither had Emilia. But what if the way she felt was a product of Cary¡¯s mind control?


    A shift in the stone broke Emilia¡¯s line of thought. A few steps after she¡¯d spoken a branch appeared in the tunnel off to the right. Lines of green light pulsed in the direction of the branch, like the floodlights in the plane that brought Emilia to Armenia. She followed the lights into a chamber wholly bereft of the green luminescence.


    Black stone, with denser lines of green and gold covered this place to the point that without her previous view of the exterior of the spire or the vision granted her by her link to Cary, Emilia would have mistaken the stone for gold chased with bits of black.


    Four people stood in front of an open creche. A figure, mummy-like and wrapped with the same black and gold fabric as his hood hung in the center of the creche. Emilia couldn¡¯t understand the figures¡¯ chanting, but she did make out the word, ¡°Shamir,¡± amidst their chanting.


    They concluded their chant and the creche slid shut, sealing the figure and his black wrapping behind the golden stone. The figures relaxed visibly, their postures sinking to the ground as they removed their hoods.


    If not for Mirabel¡¯s magic, Emilia would have been caught when she gasped. Boris and Joshua stood among the hooded figures, with the old Ogre-magi apparently leading. Clapping her hand over her mouth when he turned to look behind him, Boris tiled his head in the direction of Emilia and Mirabel. ¡°What is that? Why did the door open?¡±


    Rather than remain in place Emilia scurried out of the entrance, ready to explain herself when Boris reached out and touched the opened door. He closed his eyes and chanted in a strange tongue again. Once more, Emilia recognized ¡°Shamir,¡± among his words. Looking back to the others, Boris said, ¡°The Shamir opened a door, but I do not know why. Hmm.¡±


    Joshua shrugged. ¡°Only the Wise understood their ways fully. Ours is but to act as stewards to their power.¡±


    Boris frowned at the human, but nodded after a second¡¯s regard. ¡°You are correct, Joshua. We are all shadows of his glory.¡±


    ¡°Should we check the other Fel Slaves, archmage?¡± One of the other magicians spoke up.


    ¡°Yes, we¡¯d be fools not to while we are here.¡± Boris began his chanting before he turned away from the open door. It shut behind him, sealing the entrance without seam. When he reached the far side of the room, the walls melted away.


    Again, Emilia had to clasp her hand over her mouth as dozens, then hundreds of figures appeared, all wrapped in black cloth. Distortion in the air suggested they lay behind some kind of glass wall or field, but Emilia hardly paid attention to that. She lost count of the figures as more and more streamed by like pages of an online book flicked away to the seeker¡¯s destination.


    Boris¡¯s chanting ended and three final figures appeared. One of them was wrapped in the same all-black cloth as the other Fel Slaves had been, but the top of his or her head was exposed. Based on the black and gold rivulets dripping slowly from the crown, the wrapping was melting.


    The second figure was wrapped in a pure white cloth, unblemished and unmarked. Unlike the others, the figure was not bound so tightly as to show their silhouette. Instead, they looked more like a cylinder that tapered at the top and bottom.


    Boris stared at the final figure with a grumpy frown, the kind he turned on Emilia when she complained about her lessons. Wrapped like the other black-clad mummies this figure¡¯s cloth was red. Black and gold lines covered the cloth, also like the others, but the person within writhed actively. Only when she noticed that did Emilia realize that none of the other figures had moved.


    A solid minute passed while Boris studied the three figures. He lingered over the black-clad one who¡¯s bonds melted slowly, but he devoted almost as much time to the other two.


    ¡°How long before the head is exposed, archmage?¡± the same strange magician posed the question as had asked about examining them in the first place.


    ¡°Hard to say. At least a century, probably longer.¡± Stroking his chin, Boris turned his gaze onto the questioner. ¡°How goes the research?¡±


    ¡°Slowly, sir¡­¡± Boris wiped his hand over the walls where the Fel Slaves hung. The walls turned opaque and Emilia could no longer see them hanging there. An instant before the walls turned black again, she swore she saw the red-clad figure turn its head to look at her.


    Emilia scrabbled back away from the walls and into the surface behind her.


    ¡°Stop it, you¡¯re gonna mess up my illusion.¡± Mirabel hissed at Emilia, but terror had wrapped its fist around Emilia¡¯s heart. That trapped person, monster, or being, had looked at her, through the magic Mirabel motioned and through the same transparent wall Boris acted so confident of.


    ¡°Please let me out of here¡­¡± Emilia¡¯s words sounded desperate to her own ears, but her pulse shot into the red as Boris and Joshua both turned to look at her.


    ¡°What in name of every archangel?¡± The words left Joshua¡¯s lips as the wall behind Emilia faded.


    Magical chanting followed her down the hallway as she chased after the lights on the floor that Emilia was certain pointed the way out of the spire. Ignoring the chanting as best she could, she scrabbled on all fours as the green light faded and the black stone maw opened to allow her escape.


    ¡°Oh fuck¡­¡± Emilia repeated herself as she ran smack into Betsy, who¡¯d been crouched outside.


    ¡°Em! What the hell?¡±


    Mirabel shot between them, ¡°less yacking and more fleeing! They¡¯re coming you two idiots!¡±


    Emilia grabbed Betsy in arms that had never once been strong enough to carry the other woman before and lifted her one handed. Mirabel screamed out a renewed chant and then directed their panicked flight out from the open and into the forest beyond.

 Chapter 16 Joshua - Interlude II

    ¡°The Shamir would not just accept commands from a stranger, would they?¡± Joshua sat among the other masters, leaning forward on his pillow.


    The Fae Queen remained silent, merely observing the proceedings from her throne. Allaric, the Master of The Shrine, clasped his hands over his belly and snorted. ¡°We know next to nothing about the Builders. For all we know, they invited the intruder into the Fel Prison.¡±


    Fidgeting with the books at his side by flicking the leather clasp that held them in place, Master Boris said, ¡°None, er, that is none of the Masters know enough about the Shamir to say one way or the other.¡± He averted his gaze from the Fae Queen¡¯s throne with studious difficulty, as if his words inadvertently accused the ancient monarch.


    Though he¡¯d been trying to avoid it, the queen sat forward on the edge of her throne, the black and white twins over her shoulders conducting a silent argument complete with pointed fingers and mimed shouts as she did. ¡°The Shamir have agreed to serve,¡± she cleared her throat and corrected herself, ¡°rather they have agreed to aid us out of respect for the Wise one. Their communications to myself have been barely more informative than those they have had with you, Master Boris.¡± S¡¯ha Ren-la leaned back into the seat and the ghostly twins ceased their argument, staring forward and swaying side to side in a mirror of their mistress.


    Boris sweat under the Fae Queen¡¯s regard, but swallowed and addressed the other masters. ¡°Then there is nothing more to say. I have not been able to ascertain the identities of the intruders from the Shamir and spells of past-viewing and observation do not function within the Fel Prison, by design.¡±


    ¡°Then I shall look to the security arrangement. Perhaps a student breached the prison? With time I can have the grounds themselves report on which students were near enough to the prison to be involved. They express their supreme confidence that no outsiders breached the grounds last night.¡± Allaric¡¯s report provided little peace for the assembled masters. Intruders, outsiders, had by-passed the protection of the Shrine in the past. Usually such intruders found themselves caught in one of the many mazes of the Shrine, but some had escaped even those security measures.


    Joshua pointed to the palm of his hand. ¡°We have a few ways to determine if one or more students were involved. They are rather mundane compared to the honored Shrine master¡¯s suggestion.¡±


    Allaric scowled at Joshua and Boris long ears drooped. The Master of the Shrine¡¯s voice took on an icy quality, ¡°surely you do not intend to submit the odious suggestion of mortal technology again, Master Joshua?¡±


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    Tension rose in the tent, though neither Joshua nor the queen herself reacted with disdain to Master Allaric¡¯s question. ¡°Of course not, Master Allaric.¡± Joshua wove his hands in a simple gesture and a moving image appeared between them. Filled with cartoon images of a school assembly, all in Japanese, he let the scene play out while the apparent school administrators called on the students to identify some unknown culprit.


    ¡°What is this, Master Joshua?¡± Boris¡¯s ears perked back up as he watched the scene unfold.


    ¡°It is a mortal practice, a school assembly. The otherworlders and demons might not understand what we were doing, but the mortals would. When we posed our questions to the school at large, it would be a trivial matter to study the group¡¯s expression to determine their guilt or innocence. Moreover, a bit of mental snooping would be just as simple if it were confined to such a time, yes?¡± Joshua let the image fade as he brought his hands together.


    Before the other masters had a chance to object, the Fae Queen clapped her hands in glee. ¡°Yes! We accept Master Joshua¡¯s suggestion and order it carried out. Boris and Joshua will decide between themselves which of the masters will conduct the session and who will be in charge of our various information gathering efforts. See to it that the entire body of the Sanctorum is present.¡±


    ¡°What pretense do we invoke, my queen? Won¡¯t we alert the whole school to the existence of the Fel Prison by asking questions of them?¡± Allaric¡¯s face burned red as he put his questions to the Fae Queen.


    ¡°Indeed, but I believe that secrecy is no longer a sufficient protection for the prison spire. I would ask you, Master Allaric, to propose a series of security enhancements that may include mortal security apparatuses as part of their design.¡± Any bluster the Master of the Shrine might have wished to express was defused by the Fae Queen¡¯s suggestion. She held her hands opposite each other, waiting to see if the other masters had suggestions or objections. When none were forthcoming, she clapped her hands and dismissed the council.


    The group of Masters of the Sanctorum filed out one by one. Allaric, Master of the Shrine, stopped Joshua with a hand on his arm. ¡°You got what you¡¯ve wanted¡­¡±


    Joshua tensed under the other master¡¯s grip. He could have flung the man¡¯s hand away, struck him to emphasize his point, but Joshua loathed such games. Instead, he lowered his voice and stepped into the other master¡¯s personal space. ¡°You think for a second I wanted this? We¡¯ve seldom seen eye to eye, brother. But this is not what I want, never what I¡¯ve wanted. If you¡¯re ever unsure, I tell you now in no uncertain terms: all I want is peace. If I got what I wanted, a few cameras, a computer system and our whole damned security apparatus would be unnecessary.¡±


    Allaric released Joshua¡¯s arm and let the master walk away. No words chased out of the Master of the Shrine¡¯s lips in response.

 Chapter 17 Cary - The Caverns of Sorrow

    Tears fell. The sky darkened. And Cary screamed.


    Fallen Angels. Life had seldom been fair to Cary. The first and only friend she had ever made in her life betrayed her to an ancient demon sorcerer who spent most of a hundred years torturing her for the fun of it. When he finished, he set her to the universe¡¯s worst and most boring possible task for millennia. Longer than any nation was old, longer than any faith extent on Earth had been continuously followed, Cary had been a statue and spy, who¡¯s only purpose in life could be replaced with a camera the size of her thumb in the modern age.


    Then, once she had escaped her master and discovered a measure of freedom, Cary had been re-captured by one of the most fearsome and nightmarish beings in existence. Fallen Angels were more powerful than all but Infernal royalty, True Fae, and Gods. And unlike any of those, they could not be reasoned with. As implacable as a force of nature, Fallen Angels acted for ends no mortal could comprehend and would not relent. No amount of damage could stop them, no amount of pleading would stay their hands, and the darkness from their very presence corrupted the weak willed instantly.


    Cary was a demoness and she felt the cold darkness beginning to encroach upon her soul, start to infect her with its hideous immorality.


    Then Emilia arrived.


    Sure the mortal would succumb to the Fallen Angel¡¯s powers in a moment, Cary had tried to warn her off the first time Emilia had appeared astrally projected. But Cary failed. Then Emilia returned in the flesh, rescued Cary and Dorcas, but then fell prey to the Fallen Angel¡¯s gambit. How could Cary know she¡¯d been the bait for a plan? If she had known, how could she had warned anyone? If not for the constant pain and torture at the Fallen¡¯s hand, she might have had a moment of clarity with which to examine her situation.


    Now she drifted in an unknown void, lost to reality forever. Something clutched her hand in this void, but Cary was too afraid to check it. She was sure she would find a severed limb belonging to Dorcas, or worse, to Emilia. Despite everything that had happened, Cary clung to a sliver of her soul, to a fraction of her sanity. Finding a hand without the attached body would deprive Cary of what little she had left.


    ¡°Do not despair, my love.¡± Fingers traced her cheek as light as air. This place held no wind.


    Cary wept. ¡°Why do you mock me!?¡±


    ¡°No one is mocking you, my love. Open your eyes.¡± The voice was terrible, worse than finding a severed hand by far. It was not fair that fate toyed with her so. ¡°Please, my love. We need you.¡±


    No one needed Cary. Everyone she had ever known either betrayed her or had been betrayed by her in turn. There was nothing left for her now, nothing left but to die and end the cycle of betrayals.


    ¡°Tis not so. There are those who care for you with you now. You have but to open your eyes.¡± The new voice belonged to one Cary regretted involving in her life almost as much as Emilia. Unlike her evil twin, Dorcas was innocent, as innocent as any mortal. Ironic for a Temptress.


    ¡°Please! Just leave me in peace! Stop torturing me!¡± Cary shouted into the void, knowing that none of those who had tormented her would have stopped because she begged them.


    ¡°Okay, but one last kiss? For me?¡± Emilia spoke to Cary and Cary could not deny her.


    ¡°Okay. That¡¯s fine. I¡¯m sorry, Emilia.¡±


    Lips touched Cary¡¯s own. They tasted salty, like tears mixed with sweat. Just so, they tasted of Emilia and the joy Cary had known in the mortal¡¯s arms. ¡°I love you.¡±


    ¡°I love you too. Please open your eyes.¡±


    Cary could deny many things, but such a request from the woman she loved, Cary could not refuse her.


    Opening her eyes hurt, light stabbed into her retinas with the vengeance of a decade¡¯s darkness. It was a pain Cary had known personally, after her shipping crate was lost during a passage over the Mediterranean.


    The first thing she saw were a pair of dark green eyes staring into her own. ¡°Oh sweet Gods and Goddesses. I thought I¡¯d lost you.¡± Emilia wrapped her hands around Cary¡¯s head and pulled her in for a second kiss. This was deep and passionate, Cary returned Emilia¡¯s ardor touch for touch. She hated to close her eyes again lest she become as lost as before.


    Emilia finally pulled away, reluctance clear in her every movement. ¡°It¡¯s good to see you too, Emilia. Where are we?¡±


    Cary focused past her lover¡¯s eyes and found a cavern of red magma flowing from the ceiling. The heat waves shimmered in the air and the stench of sulphur filled Cary¡¯s nostrils. Black twisted trees grew among magma formations without concern for up or down. At that final revelation, Cary scrambled to her feet. Dorcas lay on her knees, head in her hands weeping. Mirabel wore a suit of gem-studded armor with pieces melted against her body. And Emilia crouched next to Cary, wearing a shock-black robe that made Cary inch away from the mortal. Cary recognized their location at once. ¡°Fuck. These are the Caverns of Sorrow.¡±


    Emilia nodded as if she had already discovered this fact. But Dorcas wept more desperately while Mirabel let out a fabulously vitriolic string of curses.


    ¡°Well, out of the frying pan¡­¡± Emilia reached down and offered her hand to Cary. At the sight of which, Cary looked down and checked her own hand. A skeletal figure had grabbed her left hand, trying to pull her down into the soil of the Caverns of Sorrow. Cary scrambled to her feet, sweat trickling from her head as the details of this place returned to her.


    ¡°Shit, tell me Dorcas is conscious!¡± Emilia nodded in response to Cary¡¯s demand.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think she¡¯s okay though. Can you help her?¡±


    Cary¡¯s chest ached at the way Emilia asked, as if she could tell that something had deepened and flourished between Cary and Dorcas. It was all Cary could do not beg Emilia¡¯s forgiveness. At the same time, there was a clear link between Emilia and the fairy, Mirabel. Cary had never met her in her life, but she knew the fairy¡¯s name, and the way her naked ass looked as she flew ahead. That information had come from Emilia and made a tiny green-eyed monster stir in Cary¡¯s chest.


    The blackened soil at their feet churned as the skeletal hand receded from Cary¡¯s hand. Though she was out of immediate danger, the residents of this part of the Infernim would not leave them alone for long. They preferred unconscious food, but the bold, more powerful denizens would hunt as needed.


    ¡°Dorcas, honey, I need you to get up.¡± Cary put her hand on Dorcas¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Please, weeping and sorrow draw the stronger beasts of this place to you. You don¡¯t want that.¡±


    Dorcas sniffled and took Cary¡¯s free hand. With her other hand she wiped her eyes. ¡°I¡­ didn¡¯t know that.¡±


    ¡°How would you?¡± Cary found herself between Emilia and Dorcas now, one hand held by each woman. How did her life end up like this? At least Emilia wasn¡¯t plotting Dorcas¡¯s death. In fact, based on the link, Emilia was imagining the Temptress nude and beneath her. ¡°Everyone, stop what you are thinking!¡± Cary¡¯s voice echoed through the cavern and the others jumped at her words. ¡°These are the Caverns of Sorrow, but that doesn¡¯t mean that only sadness is dangerous here. Any powerful emotions, even lust, can draw wild demons or worse to us!¡±


    Emilia nodded and Cary felt her pounce on her own thoughts and settle them. Dorcas sniffled again and Mirabel floated over to Cary. ¡°You¡¯re prettier than I thought. I think you are acceptable! I just wanted you to know!¡±


    Cary tilted her head at the fairy¡¯s proclamation. ¡°I said no emotions and specifically no lust!¡±


    ¡°This isn¡¯t lust, this is honest appraisal.¡± Mirabel spiraled between Emilia and Cary. ¡°And you¡¯re a hot piece of ass. I approve.¡±


    Squinting at Mirabel, Emilia jutted her chin toward the fairy. Because Cary still held Emilia¡¯s hand, she could sense the dis-ease from Emilia. Cary diverted her attention back to Mirabel and noticed a shadow flicker through the fairy¡¯s eyes. It looked like a feminine figure wearing a funeral shroud. ¡°Grab Mirabel¡¯s hand now. We have to run!¡± Cary sent the telepathic orders to Emilia and shouted. ¡°Shades of Suicide, run!¡±


    Dorcas had grown distracted by the figures behind them in the time it took Cary to assess their situation and shout her warning. As a result, Dorcas was slow to join them. That did not stop Cary from dragging the Temptress after her. She wasn¡¯t leaving anyone behind in the Caverns of Sorrow.


    Emilia grabbed Mirabel, who sluggishly turned and followed in the air, waving to Cary ocassionally as they ran. Cary ignored it and kept her eyes directed forward. With any luck the shades would give up the chase, assuming Emilia and Cary managed to distract the others.


    Neither Dorcas nor Mirabel complied though. They dragged their feet and kept their gazes lingering on the pursuing shades. At their present pace, either the shades would catch them or their panic would draw another resident of the caverns to them.


    Cary knew far more than she wanted to about this place, having studied secondhand in depth under one of Elelele¡¯s spying victims. To be caught here was to inexorably join the other residents, for eternity.


    Only natives could resist the shades, or stronger emotions than those they evoked in their chosen victims. Like most of the Infernim, this place was filled with bad choices. In order to escape the shades, they had to risk drawing a more powerful set of demons to them on purpose.


    ¡°Pretty.¡± Dorcas halted, dragging Cary back as she pointed at something and leaned away from Cary. ¡°She¡¯s almost as pretty as you are, Cary. I want to touch her.¡±


    Naturally, the Temptress¡¯s innocence worked against her in this place. Cary was not powerless to help her here, but the only options that sprang to mind seemed as risky as surrendering to the shades.


    Once Dorcas planted her feet, the decision was out of Cary¡¯s hands.


    ¡°Why are you stopping, you said¡­¡± Cary tugged Emilia to her and pulled her to Dorcas. The movement silenced Emilia, who probably turned and looked at the shades and thereby placed herself under their power. ¡°Pretty¡­¡± That confirmed it.


    All three of the other women had fallen under the thrall of the shades, so Cary grew desperate. She grabbed the back of Emilia¡¯s head, wrapped her fingers in her hair and kissed her. It broke eye contact with the shades and drew her mind away from whatever they¡¯d shown her that was so ¡°pretty.¡±


    Mirabel flung about, dragged through the air by Emilia¡¯s grip. As Cary pressed her tongue into Emilia¡¯s mouth, the other woman responded and clung to Cary¡¯s body. Taking a breath, Cary pointed to Mirabel with her free hand. ¡°You have to do the same thing with her. Now.¡±


    Emilia understood and they traded partners.


    Cary did not concern herself with how Emilia planned to overcome the size difference, because she had to deal with Dorcas. In an ideal world, she would have wooed the Temptress over time, with Emilia¡¯s eager assistance, or at least blessing. But this was an emergency.


    Cary grabbed Dorcas¡¯s cheek with one hand and her ass with the other. Squeezing gently with both hands, Cary turned Dorcas to face her. Right up until their lips met, Dorcas¡¯s eyes slid to the side, trying to catch sight of what the Shades offered. As Cary lapped the vanilla flavor from Dorcas¡¯s lips, the Temptress sighed and surrendered herself to Cary¡¯s amorous distraction. Based on the moans behind her, Emilia had done the same with Mirabel.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡®Eager¡¯ failed to encompass Dorcas¡¯s response. In moments, she wrapped herself around Cary and dug her nails into Cary¡¯s back. The shapes of her ample bosoms pressed themselves into Cary¡¯s chest and drew moans up out of Cary¡¯s throat as thick and yearning as those between Emilia and Mirabel.


    Despite the tension between the four of them, Cary felt none of the jealousy that had been trying to raise its ugly head before. That might have had more to do with Dorcas and her affections than Cary¡¯s actual feelings. But as the Shades did not take the opportunity to fall on them and turn the four, Cary considered her ploy successful.


    It was then she noticed that she had no desire to separate herself from Dorcas. Despite the danger threatening them, Cary would have stayed connected to the Temptress for the better part of eternity. She was soft, and ready to accept Cary and all of her demonic baggage. With a little time and convincing, Dorcas would even accept Emilia, which was better than perfect.


    Fully engaged in making out with the Temptress, it was Dorcas who pushed Cary away rather than the other way around. For a moment, Cary started to weep, the only thing she wanted in that moment was as much flesh as possible wrapped around her and assuring her that she was needed. But Dorcas spun back the way they came and hissed.


    Fear caught in Cary¡¯s throat as Dorcas¡¯s mortal transformations faded. At once she stood a head taller than normal. Her hair flared about as if she floated in water and her horns rose to a height that even Elelele might have respected. Holding her hands out as if to make herself wider and more threatening, Dorcas hissed again. ¡°These are mine, sisters! You cannot have them!¡±


    Three Temptresses, shorter and paler than Dorcas had replaced the Shades behind them. Based on the way little grey wisps of air floated away from the Temptresses, Cary was pretty certain they had eaten the Shades. She wished she knew how to do that. Not that it would help her now.


    ¡°You have three yourself. At least one to spare¡­¡± One of the new Temptresses had longer talons than the others, and stood a few strides ahead. ¡°Let us share two? We can even leave one of them¡­ intact.¡±


    Dorcas did not pause or so much as coil back as he leapt for the three Temptresses. The only way Cary knew for certain she had jumped in the first place ¡ª without looking ¡ª was the scream of primal rage Dorcas emitted mid-leap.


    The front Temptress sprang at Dorcas with considerably less verve while the other two circled around Dorcas, trying to outflank her. In the course of her jump, Dorcas had put on several inches and her talons had grown to the length of stilettos. One swipe of her claws opened the front Temptress¡¯s throat. Before that demoness fell, Dorcas spun on the other two and hissed at them, crouched and ready to pounce. ¡°They are mine!¡±


    Behind her, the third Temptress sprang at Dorcas¡¯s exposed back. Cary opened her mouth to scream a warning at Dorcas, but there was no need. With speed that made Cary¡¯s muscles twitch in envy, Dorcas took a half step toward the fleeing Temptress, turned and swiped down at her rear-attacker. The remaining Temptress screamed as her second sister fell beneath Dorcas¡¯s claws. Blood sprayed from two corpses once Dorcas partially decapitated her second attacker.


    The last Temptress turned to flee too late. To Cary¡¯s shock, Dorcas screamed and leapt almost thirty feet onto the back of the final Temptress. She used the force of her momentum to drive her claws deep into that demoness¡¯s back, pinning her into the red soil at their feet. With her lungs pierced by Dorcas¡¯s claws, the final Temptress could not even scream.


    Lapping her hands of the blood of her kind, Dorcas squirmed on that final corpse, eyeing her dead ¡°sister¡± lovingly. ¡°Do you think we could linger here a while, Cary?¡±


    Covered in steaming red blood, Dorcas took the image of an Amazonian warrior and owned ever inch. But the wild eyed look about her warned Cary that Dorcas balanced on a sharp edge between losing herself to her bloodlust and fucking the dead corpse of the other temptress. Neither of those outcomes worked for Cary.


    Keeping her eyes level and focused on Dorcas, Cary lowered her stance and approached, ignoring the slurping sounds from Emilia and Mirabel as best she could as she closed with Dorcas. The wild Temptress growled at Cary and darted her gaze toward the corpse under her hips. ¡°Mine.¡±


    Cary locked her gaze with Dorcas and nodded. ¡°Yes, yours.¡±


    Dorcas ran her finger through the blood and brought it to her lips. As if the thought had only occurred to her, she reached her finger out to Cary and said, ¡°share?¡±


    Cary sucked in a breath and shook her head, still making sure she kept her eyes focused on Dorcas. ¡°Dorcas, please? We need you back¡­¡± a howl cut through Cary¡¯s words as surely as a foghorn. Two more howls answered the first virtually instantly. ¡°Shit!¡±


    Dorcas spun in the direction of the howl and Cary made a choice in the moment, praying she made the right one. Shifting as she jumped, Cary took on the form of a Temptress herself, one of the few shapeshifts she could manage.


    Rather than try to drive her claws into Dorcas¡¯s body or cut her open, Cary used the moment of distraction to catch both of Dorcas¡¯s arms. She was stronger than Cary in this form, bigger too. But Cary had the minor advantage of surprise. Pressing her weight onto Dorcas, she rolled atop the Temptress, who squirmed beneath her and flashed a broad smile up at Cary.


    ¡°You want to mount me?¡± Dorcas licked her bloody lips. ¡°You only had to say.¡± Pulling Cary down with powerful arms, Dorcas brought Cary close enough to taste the honey, vanilla, and copper flavor of dead Temptress. If Cary had said she was not interested in the moment, she would have been lying. But she had more important things to do then.


    ¡°Honey. Those are hellhounds. And we need to get moving. Please?¡± Cary licked her lips and held her breath.


    At this point, Dorcas could have torn her throat out with her teeth. Based on the way she reacted, the please reached through the layers of instinct and bloodlust and drew Dorcas back to the present. ¡°Cary? What happened?¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s not worry about that right now. We need to get moving before the hellhounds get here.¡± Dorcas looked down at her body, showered as she was in blood and gasped. But Cary caught her chin and pulled Dorcas¡¯s eyes up to meet her own. ¡°You saved us. But now we need to get moving. Please?¡±


    It was a repeat of the first trick, but the word broke through the last remnants of Dorcas¡¯s resistance. She shifted under Cary¡¯s hips and shrank back to her normal, demure aspect. Blood still covered her where she¡¯d been sprayed by the dying Temptresses, but without the wild darting eyes, she looked almost normal. ¡°Did you say hellhounds?¡±


    The Infernim lived and breathed. And as a living thing, it could hear words given breath close by. It answered Dorcas¡¯s question with a trio of howls, each staggered and picking up in order one after another. They were much closer now.


    ¡°Yes. We need to run unless you plan on fighting those.¡± Dorcas shook her head and Cary finally turned to find Mirabel wrapped around another fairy with dragonfly wings and a dark black robe made of shadows.


    The two fairies intertwined and had all but started to fuck each other. Rather than let them continue and lure further monsters to them, Cary grabbed one of them by the wing ¡ª the dragonfly winged fairy ¡ª and pulled her away from Mirabel with her other hand. ¡°Okay you two, give it a rest.¡±


    Emilia-fairy blinked at Cary and looked around. ¡°What the hell?¡±


    Mirabel pouted and pointed at Dorcas and Cary. ¡°Exactly the hell. And it looks like the two of them had a good time while we were¡­ entranced.¡± She shook her finger at Cary. ¡°No fair interrupting!¡±


    Again, the Infernim answered. Six different infernal throats howled in concert at their group. They were dangerously close now.


    ¡°Argue later, both of you need to fly, now!¡± Cary grabbed Dorcas¡¯s hand and Emilia¡¯s tiny fairy hand. With wings, the fairies should have outpaced both demons. Fortunately, Emilia stayed in her fairy form, so Cary didn¡¯t have to suggest otherwise.


    ¡°What are we running from?¡± Mirabel shot forward, leading Emilia and Cary like a kite on a string of hands. ¡°Something sexy again?¡±


    Cary refrained from asking Mirabel what the Shades had shown her, such meaningless questions could wait. ¡°No, from hellhounds.¡±


    Emilia snorted. ¡°They sound puny. We could take them.¡±


    Dorcas spoke up on Cary¡¯s behalf. ¡°No. We could not. Hellhounds are vicious and gain strength from battle. The nature of the Cave of Sorrows makes them impossible to defeat if we encounter them here.¡±


    ¡°What do we do then?¡± Emilia looked curious rather than frightened. Not that Cary wanted her scared, but she might have preferred it to foolhardy.


    ¡°We run.¡± Cary pointed forward. ¡°With you two fairies and us two demons we should escape this place no problem.¡±


    ¡°What does it matter if we¡¯re fairies or demons?¡± Emilia still spoke as if their group was on an easy stroll through a park.


    ¡°Because mortals cannot escape this place alone. And the Sorrows call to them.¡± Dorcas nodded to Emilia. ¡°To you.¡±


    Emilia shrugged and was about to open her mouth when the six-throated howl sounded from behind them. It came from close enough that all four felt the hot wind explode from the hellhound¡¯s mouths.


    Dorcas and Cary moved slower than the fairies. Though they were both demons, the hellhounds would not care one bit about the kind of meat they feasted on, not if they caught any of them.


    As they huffed and strained their legs, Mirabel chirped and giggled. Hitting her head as she flew up, she said, ¡°I can help!¡± Spraying a glittering field over their group, Mirabel did not even need to chant to cast her magic.


    The field sank into Cary¡¯s bones and made her feet seem to grow heavier, though it did not slow her down. ¡°What was that?¡±


    ¡°Illusion magic! Now the hounds will think we¡¯re something scary!¡± Mirabel pointed behind them and Cary risked a glance in the same direction.


    The hounds had not slowed one step.


    ¡°Hellhounds are not afraid of anything. And unless you illusion includes scent, they won¡¯t be fooled.¡± Dorcas panted as she struggled to keep up with Cary and the fae. A single idea occurred to Cary, but it was one she would rather avoid. As she weighed the thought against the possibility of the hellhounds catching them, Dorcas pointed to a growing dot of grey light in the distance. ¡°An exit! We¡¯re almost free!¡±


    Cary peered into the distance and grimaced. Based on that oily light, the next region of the Infernim would be almost as bad as the Sorrows. But ¡°almost as bad¡± left a pretty large margin of safety, all things considered.


    She lifted Dorcas up as the Temptress¡¯s strength flagged and urged the others on with a shout. The hellhounds nipped at her heels, flinging acidic drool about as they neared. By the time the relentless demon dogs started to catch Cary¡¯s ankles with their teeth, the hole in the cavern walls had grown large enough to accommodate Dorcas.


    Cary shifted to her stone form and tossed Dorcas as far as she could. The Temptress sailed head over feet toward the hole as Cary spun and kicked one of the hellhounds in the lower jaw. Its bone shattered under the force of her blow and its companion turned on it. Four other hellhounds dove at Cary, but she flung them from herself with as much force as she had used to throw Dorcas. Three of them skidding away, kicking up red dirt as they scrabbled onto their feet, but one of them had locked its jaws onto Cary¡¯s stone arm.


    Acid bit into her skin, but found something hard enough to resist the pathetic damage the hellhound mustered. She battered it into the two hellhounds fighting each other on the ground nearby and they latched themselves onto a new victim. With all six hellhounds occupied, Cary spun and took off again. Behind her a massive howl shook the stalactites from the ceiling and kicked up a cloud of loose red dust. This was why fighting in the Sorrows was best avoided. Larger and larger hounds would join in until those who dared the region died or escaped. Based on what little lore Cary knew about the Sorrows, the size of the hounds never ended.


    Pounding feet pursued Cary through the end of the cavern. Her stone feet sank into the sands and hounds yelped behind her as the massive alpha dog chewed through them. Its own violence would call down larger and larger hounds even if Cary managed to avoid it. The only option was to pass through the opening into the grey.


    Ahead of her, Emilia and the others had managed to get through the opening. All that remained was for Cary to escape. Her stone body did not suffer fatigue the way her flesh body did. And it moved quicker than the stone suggested, but not fast enough to avoid a hound the size of a school bus.


    If it had ravaged her, taken her into its jaws at the first chance, she would not have escaped. Instead, it acted out its pseudo-canine instincts, flinging Cary ahead with a massive ram of its nose. She curled her head into her chest and pulled her knees up as she rolled forward like a plaything. Cary landed feet from the exit to the Cavern of Sorrows, righted herself and scrambled through the stone opening.


    The massive hound hit the cave wall hard enough to shatter bones. Despite the injuries it dealt to itself, it pressed on, hammering the wall separating it from Cary and the others as hard as it could. For several destructive beats, the massive hellhound slammed itself into the wall, shaking rocks and debris onto the exterior floor and slowly expanding the tiny opening with every strike.


    Cary grabbed Emilia and the others, who lay stunned among the mushrooms and creepers that lined the floor. ¡°Let¡¯s get the fuck out of here!¡±


    The others bolted, following Cary¡¯s urging. Behind them, the giant hellhound¡¯s voice grew plaintive as they escaped its jaws.


    ¡°Where are we now?¡± Emilia looked around and flitted to the side of a large grew and white mushroom, prepared to poke it.


    Dorcas stuck her hand between the fairy and the fungus and said, ¡°don¡¯t touch anything here. This is the Forest of Rot. Most of the flora here will eat us, given the chance.¡±


    Cary sighed at the name. She didn¡¯t recognize the parts of the Infernim on sight, but she knew the names. Technically, this region was more dangerous than the Cave of Sorrows, but for different reasons. And most importantly, lacked the ever-present magical field of the Sorrows. ¡°But we don¡¯t have to stay here. We can escape this whole place now.¡±


    Dorcas turned and opened her mouth in surprise, but nodded at Cary. ¡°Right. We can cast a circle out now.¡±


    ¡°Oh! Duh!¡± Mirabel twirled about and pointed to herself with her thumb. ¡°I got this folks! Unless one of you two want to try it?¡±


    Cary shook her head and Dorcas shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s harder for demons to break out of here than you might think. Go ahead.¡±


    Mirabel practically strutted as Dorcas¡¯s invitation. ¡°Then I think I will! Does anyone have any chalk?¡±


    They had to forage among the man-eating plants to find something that would pass for chalk, and in a quantity that would meet their needs. Technically the material didn¡¯t matter, but it had to be of one substance, which meant they had to visit several pitcher-like lilies before they found enough pollen to do the job.


    ¡°Okay, everyone in the circle!¡± Mirabel pointed to Emilia. ¡°And you! Draw in your robes and take your natural form. You don¡¯t want the spell reverting you on its own. Trust me.¡±


    That particular problem had never plagued Cary, but she could imagine the trouble a mortal might have from it. Emilia complied with Mirabel¡¯s directions at once and the fairy finished casting her portal spell.


    Vines around them twitched as the circle severed their connection to their roots and with a sinking sensation in their nellies, all four women appeared in the middle of a yellow-hued tent. The people around them blurred at first and then slowly resolved into clarity. They were the assembled masters of the Sanctorum, with the addition of a regal-looking woman with two ghostly figures hovering over her back, one white and one black. Boris and Joshua wore expressions that suggested they had eaten something unpleasant.


    The woman upon her throne leaned forward, her two ghostly twins pointing at the group. ¡°Now tell me, where have you ladies gotten off to?¡±

 Chapter 18 Emilia - Granne Erzuli

    Emilia woke that morning, fresh from strange dreams. A baby, swaddled in red, floated toward her on a pillow of green light. Moaning followed the babe, drifting toward Emilia inexorably. Black stone held her ankles fast as Emilia tried to flee. She woke as Cary crossed the green mist to save her. Cary was in grave danger, Emilia felt it in her chest as she opened her eyes.


    The link between herself and Cary had grown faint in the night, fainter even than when Emilia stood within the black spire. Mirabel and Betsy snored in their beds, Mirabel on her pillow and Betsy atop her covers with her arms and legs splayed over the edge of her bed.


    Emilia stank of fear sweat and only when she focused on the link between herself and Cary could she sense any details in the connection. This feeling of dread within her heart was deeper than a dream. The danger Cary faced was real.


    ¡°Mirabel! Wake up!¡± Emilia all but levitated off of her bed, flying to her closet as she pulled out fresh clothing. ¡°Wake up! Something¡¯s wrong with Cary!¡±


    Betsy shot up from her bed, tangling herself in her sheets and covers as she scrambled up. ¡°What¡¯s going on now?¡±


    ¡°Cary¡¯s hurt or unconscious. And I don¡¯t mean sleeping. Wake up!¡±


    Mirabel rolled off of her pillow and into the air as if she¡¯d planned the maneuver. ¡°Holy pink titties, what¡¯s the shouting about?¡±


    Betsy pointed to the fairy. ¡°That¡¯s what I want to know.¡±


    ¡°Holy shit, wake up and get it together people! Cary¡¯s fucking injured!¡±


    Mirabel recovered her wits first and flew to the closet. ¡°What did you sense? Tell me?¡±


    Flicking her gaze between her two friends, Emilia relayed her dream.


    ¡°Come on Em, that¡¯s just a dream. And after last night¡­¡±


    Mirabel cut Betsy off and pointed to Emilia. ¡°Calm down a second sit down on your bed. What did you feel, exactly.¡±


    The fairy¡¯s serious attitude scared Emilia more than the pit of dread growing in her chest. But she complied with the fairy¡¯s orders with haste. ¡°I can feel her unconscious, but not asleep. I know what sleeping feels like, this is something else. Something bad.¡±


    Alighting onto Emilia¡¯s shoulder, Mirabel said, ¡°I want to you to close your eyes¡­¡±


    ¡°Can I go back to sleep?¡± Betsy sounded more like Max this morning than herself. Even with Cary in danger, Emilia couldn¡¯t hold her attitude against Betsy. Last night was terrifying, and escaping from the masters had been worrisome enough for all of them.


    Mirabel wasn¡¯t hearing any of Betsy¡¯s complaints thought. ¡°You can, but if you do, you¡¯re a jerk! Now shut up and let Emilia concentrate!¡± Pointing back toward Emilia, Mirabel said, ¡°Seriously now, close your eyes and focus on the connection between you and Cary. Try to follow the line between the two of you back to its source, back to your servant¡¯s mind and body.¡±


    Emilia closed her eyes and silently prayed that Mirabel¡¯s instructions would work even if the relationship between Cary and her was reversed. With the fairy¡¯s instructions, Emilia found the link in her chest, like a silvered cord that reached out of her chest and flowed out of the room and out of sight. In her mind¡¯s eye, she followed the thread through the camp and out into the real world of Armenia. Strangely enough, she passed through a keyhole in the sky, so tiny only Mirabel would be able to fit.


    Outside of the Sanctorum, the cord actually shrank and grew fainter, as if the magic of the extra-dimensional space somehow amplified the signal between them. Despite the weakness in the thread, Emilia followed it through the air. As she neared, she began to sense a pulsing in the thread, as if it echoed with the steady tattoo of Cary¡¯s heartbeat. The pulse grew stronger as Emilia flew over the city and toward the outskirts of the unknown Armenian town. She¡¯d lived her for weeks and still didn¡¯t know where the Sanctorum¡¯s gate passed from the real world into the demiplane. It didn¡¯t matter now, all that mattered was finding Cary as fast as she could.


    High above the city now, Emilia¡¯s psychic vision focused in on a building where the cord ended against a concrete wall. Rather than pass through the wall without touching, her astral body struck a boundary with enough force to give her a headache. The voices of Mirabel and Betsy had faded into the background, but as Emilia struck the building, they grew in volume. Tuning them out, Emilia extended the force of her Consumption toward the building.


    As her power reached out to the concrete, it flared with lines of red, streaked over the stone and instilled into the mortar. A coppery smell reached her nose and she knew the lines of red to be blood. Ignoring the provenance of the protection about the building, Emilia thrust her power into the stones and sucked with the essence of herself.


    Power flooded over her, thick as syrup and tasting of chalk and torment. It tried to overwhelm her, to bite back at her assault, but she absorbed even the attacks. Pulling the hostile energy into herself proved as easily as spooning cereal into her mouth. And like a hearty breakfast, the power strengthened her as she drank it down.


    A portion of the stone wall finally crumbled under her draining attacks and Emilia passed though the structure unharmed. Behind her, the mystical boundary repaired itself, but Emilia ignored it for now. She only cared about finding Cary.


    Dozens of rooms, all of them ephemeral and flashing into and out of existence flew by her astral body. Without the cord between her and Cary providing direction, Emilia might have fallen for those rooms. Each of them called to her with the promise of her goal and Emilia recognized them as dangerous magical traps intended to capture someone like her who dared to project their consciousness into this place.


    The magical protections here terrified Emilia with their ruthless pull. But she¡¯d begun her journey focused on Cary, so she recognized them as false projections, even the ones who claimed to be her mother. Those gave Emilia the most pause, provided the greatest temptation. But after several such attempts, Emilia knew them as lies.


    At the end of a long hallway, Emilia found a doorway covered with black runes and lines of power. They mirrored the golden lines she¡¯d seen the night before on the black spire and the Fel Slaves. Instinct informed her that these lines shared an origin, a magical background with the lines of the spire, but she dismissed the link. She didn¡¯t have time to puzzle over them and knew one way to force through them.


    The Consumption flowed out of Emilia like a black miasma of force, streaked with the red power she¡¯d already drained from the exterior of this place. Upon contact with the black lines on the door, Emilia screamed from her real body. Barbs of black thorns stabbed through the clouds wrapped around her and dug into her skin, both her astral body and her real one. Ignoring the pain, Emilia drew and consumed, released her innate power upon the black wards and saw the light-draining power within them fade. As they did, the black thorns writhed and sunk into Emilia¡¯s bodies, leaving marks on her soul as she drained them of their magical essence.


    When the last of the power drained away into her, the thorns finally died. At the same time, the door flew open and a figure stood within. He wore an elaborate headdress: a horned skull mounted on the top like a crown. It was humanoid and almost certainly demonic. Blood streaked the headdress, which made the runes carved into the bone stand out to Emilia¡¯s magical vision.


    He wore a brown robe, streaked with dark fluids and wielded a knife in his left hand that sucked the light away with far greater potency than the runes on the door had. A voice echoed from within the room, behind the man. ¡°What breaches our stronghold, Maurice?¡± It was another male voice, who¡¯s source Emilia could not locate.


    ¡°I don¡¯t see anything. Let me check the Astral¡­¡±


    Before Maurice could find her, Emilia darted by him. A black and scarlet figure loomed larger than a man, larger than Boris in the back corner of the room. Sliding her vision over the figure made Emilia¡¯s head pound with agony, so she avoided looking. Two women sat tied to chairs in the center of the room, with a golden scroll before them on a raised altar. Both women were bleeding from multiple cuts, and one of them was Cary.


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    Emilia screamed into the void at the sight of the demoness. They¡¯d flayed parts of her skin, cutting it away in large sections as if trying to keep the pieces intact. Her rage struck both men in the room with the force of her anger, but the black and red figure out of nightmares ignored the force. Instinct driving her, Emilia shot to Cary and deposited most of the magical energy she¡¯d collected along her trip. Projected as she was, only a trickle managed its way down the line, as if something on her physical end stopped her, or consumed the energy before it reached Cary.


    But the demoness raised her head at last, looking into Emilia¡¯s eyes as if she could see them. ¡°Flee, my love. Do not come here with anything less than¡­¡±


    ¡°Emilia! Holy shit, save her!¡± the voice broke into Emilia¡¯s consciousness, interrupting Cary¡¯s words and dragging her back. A foul odor surrounded her, pulling her out of her trance with its disgusting, acrid bite. Engaging every last bit of her will, Emilia poured the last bit of power she could manage into Cary.


    As she did, her eyes fluttered open. Emilia lay on her back with Regina and Mirabel hovering over her. Regina held her arm over Emilia¡¯s chest, bleeding freely over Emilia as she poured a small mountain¡¯s worth of pungent herbs atop Emilia¡¯s chest.


    ¡°Is it her? She could have a rider!¡± Regina¡¯s voice echoed through Emilia¡¯s ears as if they all lay in a massive room and she stood on the opposite side.


    Emilia raised her hand and patted Regina¡¯s cheek. ¡°Pretty voodoo girl. Did I die?¡±


    Tears flowed from Regina¡¯s cheeks as Mirabel sank out of Emilia¡¯s vision. ¡°It¡¯s her. I¡¯ve tasted her soul before and only Emilia would pat me like that.¡± Regina sounded closer this time, but her voice still echoed as if they lay in a large, opened room. Every part of Emilia¡¯s body ached, as if she¡¯d been crushed or worse. She tried to sit up, but Regina put her hands on her shoulders. ¡°You¡¯re hurt. You need to stay down¡­¡±


    For a moment, Emilia agreed. She was hurt, maybe even severely so. But then the image of Cary¡¯s flayed body flashed before her eyes. ¡°No!¡± She shot up into a sitting position to find herself entirely naked, her skin covered with tiny cuts and holes. A puddle of blood lay beneath her, as if Emilia had soiled herself in her dreams.


    ¡°What the fuck?¡± Betsy, her hands covered with blood, pointe at Emilia. ¡°How is she even conscious?¡±


    Many of the holes in Emilia¡¯s body still leaked, as if the injuries she bore ran deeper than she could imagine. The expression of horror and disbelief written across Betsy¡¯s face and in her words made sense in light of appearances.


    ¡°Emilia, you need to rest.¡± Regina tried to push her down again, but the slippery blood made her grip unsure.


    Emilia twisted away and stood, uncaring that she was nude or that her lifeblood trickled onto the floor. ¡°No! They¡¯re torturing Cary! We need to find her!¡± For the first time, Cary saw where they stood, in a large room with multiple sets of shelves on the walls and a wide open space with a permanent silver-edged circle in the center. Emilia had bled over the circle, the puddle breaking the perimeter.


    Mirabel¡¯s voice all but moaned as she floated up to meet Emilia¡¯s eyes. ¡°Is that the demon speaking or her?¡±


    In a flash, Emilia understood the full import of Mirabel¡¯s question. She turned her rage-filled gaze onto Betsy and Regina. ¡°You fucking told her? You betrayed me!¡±


    Mirabel slapped Emilia then, the blow ringing her head with more force than the little fairy should have been capable of. ¡°Are you an idiot? They just saved your stupid little mortal life. And if I hadn¡¯t known you were some demon¡¯s slave, my first attempts at saving your dumbass would have ended it. You should be thanking them!¡± Mirabel flew away, a look of disgust spread across her face as she kept her eyes on Emilia. ¡°We don¡¯t even know if this is the demon speaking. We can¡¯t trust her.¡±


    ¡°Shut your stupid little pixie mouth, this is Emilia you¡¯re talking about!¡± Betsy rose to Emilia¡¯s defense, and though her head swam from the blood loss and pain, she silently thanked her best friend.


    ¡°You have no idea what you¡¯re saying, child!¡± Mirabel shook her hand at Betsy, fury growing as her normally still wings began to flutter. ¡°The demon is her master, she could speak through Emilia¡¯s mouth and none of us would be any wiser. Not that you were wise to begin with.¡±


    ¡°You little fucking bitch¡­¡± Betsy began a tirade as power built where Regina stood.


    A rumble sounded in Regina¡¯s throat as two separate, but harmonizing tones erupted from her mouth. ¡°ENOUGH!¡± Red motes of power gathered about Regina¡¯s body as she stood up tall, even taller than she did normally. Many of the motes concentrated themselves around the fingers of her left hand, as if forming rings there.


    Mirabel sputtered and made an unexpected sign of the cross over herself as she whispered, ¡°Granne Erzuli¡­¡±


    Regina¡¯s voice took on a Creole accent as she nodded to the fairy. ¡°The ancient one has the right of it, children. But she is also wrong about the slaveries. Granne knows slaves, has known slaves for a thousand years and that little girl there ain¡¯t no slave.¡± Regina walked to Emilia as the red motes of light collected about her body formed a crimson wedding gown. ¡°Unless you count love, this girl is a slave to no one.¡± She patted Emilia on the cheek. ¡°But her love gonna die unless you do something to save her.¡± With an almost mechanical twist of her head, Regina faced Mirabel. ¡°You gonna let another love die, Mir of the White Belle?¡±


    Mirabel gasped at the name and brought her hand to her mouth. A single tear rolled down her cheek as she shook her head. Before she could speak, Betsy said, ¡°What do we need to do?¡±


    Regina dropped her hand to her hip and turned away from Mirabel and Emilia. ¡°I like you, Mon Cher. Your friend gonna die before you reach her lover if you don¡¯t find a way to save her. My horse knows a way, but you gotta ask her right, you hear me?¡± Granne Erzuli turned about the room, a crimson glint in Regina¡¯s eyes as she met Emilia and Mirabel¡¯s gaze. ¡°Trust the lightning in your veins, children, if¡¯n you wanna live through this. But don¡¯t you even think a¡¯bringing my horse, or she¡¯s gonna die now.¡±


    With those final words, Regina sank to her knees and shuddered. The red light flowed away from her, leaving only a crimson mark on her left ring finger in the shape of a skull and crossbones. ¡°What the fuck just happened?¡± Sweat poured down her brow as she tried to stand.


    At the same time as Betsy ran to help Regina, Emilia¡¯s legs wobbled and she dropped to the floor. A fourth set of hands grabbed her under her armpits, hands that couldn¡¯t belong to anyone else in the room, as only Mirabel remained and she was too small to hold Emilia like that. Craning her head over her neck, Emilia discovered that she was wrong, Mirabel had grown to human height, or about a head shorter. ¡°Relax, let¡¯s get you back on the floor and see if we can¡¯t patch you up, Emilia.¡± Patting her on the forehead, Mirabel guided Emilia back to the circle.


    ¡°How in the actual fuck do we heal her?¡± Betsy¡¯s voice brought Emilia back out of slumber. Exhaustion and blood loss pulled her in and out of consciousness.


    Hands patted Emilia¡¯s cheek tearing her back to the painful bright light of consciousness. ¡°Emilia, none of us knows how to heal you, but Granne said we have to ask her right. Do you know?¡± It was Mirabel¡¯s voice, but wrong somehow. Or maybe the voice belonged to Betsy, Emilia couldn¡¯t be sure. ¡°Can you hear us? Open your eyes, hon.¡±


    At the sound of Cary¡¯s voice, Emilia¡¯s eyes shot open. A black void formed in her middle, from which flowed impossible amounts of power. On the other end, Emilia could feel Cary trying to stem the flow, trying to keep from drawing upon Emilia¡¯s essence to keep herself alive. But, like water siphoned from a pump, the flow had started ¡ª Emilia herself set it into motion ¡ª and nothing she did would stem the tide.


    She felt as though she were back studying under Boris, drained of her magic due to over-exertion and awaiting the tiny vial of power he let her draw from to replenish. ¡°Water.¡± Emilia¡¯s voice came faint to her own ears, and it wasn¡¯t what she¡¯d intended to say. She coughed and cleared her throat. Someone drizzled a few sips of water into her open mouth and she could speak clearly. ¡°There¡¯s a glowing vial. Boris¡­¡±


    The effort to speak pained her, drove her back into the darkness at her center. Where the sucking force pulled her in, Emilia could easily just let go. Peace dwelled at the other end of surrender. No more effort, no more pain, no more anything.


    On the verge of accepting her end, hanging in the blackness as she was, Cary appeared as an apparition. At the same time Emilia felt the steady flow of Prajna draining into the demoness, she felt tremendous sorrow from Cary. ¡°Please, Emilia. Do not give up. Please don¡¯t die because of me.¡± Kneeling before her, washing Emilia¡¯s feet with her hair and tears, Cary stared up at her. ¡°I cannot stop the flow. They are trying to end me, and the only thing sustaining me is you. I am truly sorry.¡±


    Emilia bent down and cradled Cary¡¯s face with her hands. ¡°I gave myself to you in the darkness. I was sure you were dead back then and I would do it again. Live for me, Cary. Survive and remember my name, remember that I love you, wherever I am.¡±


    Cary screamed in rage at Emilia, as if the force of her anger would reverse the course of power between them, as if her will alone could sustain Emilia in the face of the power she lost. In a way, Emilia though it fitting she would die this way. She¡¯d tried to end Esme like this, justice demanded she meet her own end at the complement to her power. Has she hurt Esme this much when Emilia had tried to finish her?


    Emilia closed her eyes within her vision, stroking Cary¡¯s head as she did. Letting go was good, it would bring her to completion. It would ensure Cary would survive. This was okay. She felt her heart stop beating, heard the screams of those around her as they discovered the same. As her very soul began to depart her body, a brilliant light reached out and grabbed her by the ankle.


    The hand was tiny, absurdly small for the force it applied. And it belonged to a children¡¯s toy, held together with bubble gum, ceiling wax, and a myriad of string and other frivolities. Eyes that bounced about their sockets stared up at Emilia and power flowed into her.


    Upon her death, when her heart stopped beating, the flow of energy from her body to Cary stopped. An incredible flow of energy began from her chest while the paper mache and toy figure pulled Emilia back into her physical body. The link between her and Cary bloomed into force, highlighting the demoness¡¯s location like a blazing beacon in the night and assuring Emilia she still lived. As magical force poured into her, Emilia sighed, her heart beat and she passed into a comfortable slumber.

 Chapter 19 Regina - Interlude III

    ¡°Vial!? What the fuck is she talking about, vial?¡± Regina held poultices over the various injuries on Emilia¡¯s body. Had these been normal injuries, the herbs and magic instilled in the poultices would have sealed the wounds at a touch. But some kind of magical force held the holes and lacerations open as if whatever made them in the first place had not quite been removed.


    ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t know. She said Boris¡­ what the fuck did she tell me about it?¡± Betsy hyperventilated as she held her hands to the sides of her head.


    Regina ignored Betsy for the time being and whispered prayers to the Mambo and the Gede, begging them to give Emilia extra time, long enough for the three of them to figure something out.


    Mirabel, now as tall as a human and naked as a jaybird, leaned over Emilia and whispered words in a language Regina didn¡¯t recognize. Whatever she was doing wasn¡¯t hurting, but she ignored the others. If she knew something that would help them, she wasn¡¯t bringing it up then.


    ¡°A vial!¡± Betsy jumped up with an epiphany. ¡°Emilia told me that when she¡¯d end up too exhausted to move or use her power any longer after her exercises, Boris would let her hold a glowing golden vial. Is that what she meant?¡±


    Mirabel¡¯s head shot up at Betsy¡¯s question, but Regina had already made the connection. ¡°A Philter of Light. Damn, of course!¡± Regina shot up from her position next to Emilia and pointed to the enlarged fairy. ¡°Don¡¯t you dare let her die. I will be right back.¡±


    Regina¡¯s long legs chewed up the distance between the summoning room and the alchemy lab. Philters of Light were used to store power from the sun and moon, to be used by alchemists when they needed one or the other, but the time was wrong. For Emilia¡¯s purposes, they could act as endless supplies of magic, renewed each day at the appropriate time. Such a use would never have occurred to her, Boris was clearly a resourceful genius. As an alchemy student, Regina had a key to the supply closets and no one would question her removing a Philter or two from the shelves.


    Upon finding the closet she needed, Regina pulled four total vials out, two from each aspect solar and lunar. They were all she could hold as she scrambled back to the summoning room, glad that no one had stopped her in her mad dash to save her friend.


    When she reached the summoning circle, Betsy had her hands on Emilia¡¯s chest, compressing her heart manually while breathing into her mouth. Mirabel glowed with a cerulean light, that outlined an impossible skeleton made of children¡¯s toys and nonsense. Regina¡¯s sight had been trained to observe fine details during her time among the Sanctorum, though Mirabel appeared to be holding Emilia¡¯s ankle in the real, she was in fact holding both Emilia¡¯s leg and her soul, trapping the latter in the boundary of the former. Blue light motes faded from Mirabel as she wrapped her hand around Emilia¡¯s soul. ¡°Hurry.¡± More little foxfires spread from Mirabel¡¯s lips as she urged Regina onward.


    ¡°I still can¡¯t feel her pulse!¡± Betsy didn¡¯t stop her compressions as she stared up at Regina with the same plaintive look on her face. ¡°Regina, do something now!¡±


    Regina upended two vials of liquid starlight onto Emilia¡¯s chest and set the other two atop. A few trickles of light dropped to the floor to mingle with the blue motes escaping from Mirabel¡¯s form in greater numbers. Regina stared at the fairy as she began to turn transparent. A sad smile crossed her lips, but then brightened as she said, ¡°my life for hers, tis a fairy trade.¡±


    She winked at Regina as Emilia gasped. At the same time, the light pooling on her chest vanished into Emilia¡¯s wounds and the blue motes that had been sloughing from Mirabel joined them. The spectral image of Emilia flashed back into her body as Mirabel collapsed to the floor. A few bits of string and twigs rattled to the ground as the fairy began to disappear.


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    Emilia bolted upright with an explosion of movement. Her injuries closed as the starlight filled them. She turned to the fading fairy and whispered words Regina did not know.


    Light poured from her lips as Emilia reached into Mirabel¡¯s gradually disintegrating body. Her other hand wrapped around a Philter of Moonlight, Emila shouted, ¡°no,¡± and the vial cracked, then shattered in her hand. Blood dripped from her fingers, which found its way to the still glowing pile of string and sticks where Mirabel had lain down.


    Regina had to shield her eyes as the second Philter of Sunlight shattered and more blood flowed to merge with Mirabel¡¯s substance. An ochre after image of a hunched old woman stooped over the fairy, patting Emilia¡¯s head and dipping a lone finger into the fairy¡¯s substance. ¡°Granne Erzuli?¡± The old Loa rose and winked with a flicker of the stars as she faded against the flaring light from Emilia and Mirabel.


    When the light faded, a tiny fairy woman, in her original size, curled around Emilia¡¯s thumb, cupped and sleeping. Her butterfly wings, once royal purple, had been streaked with red in the form of a skull mask. Tiny white scars replaced the holes over her body, dotting her form like polkadots. To Regina¡¯s magically enhanced vision, she was sure she bore little crosses over each of those scars.


    With that final act, Emilia shuddered and fell back, still breathing.


    ¡°Holy shit. What just happened?¡± Betsy was sweating visibly as the light around Emilia dimmed and then faded into darkness.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, make sure she¡¯s still breathing.¡± Regina pointed to Emilia, who had a small birthmark now on her collar in the shape of a cross with butterfly wings. Whatever had happened had changed both Mirabel and Emila, though how, Regina could only begin to guess.


    ¡°She¡¯s breathing and her pulse is strong. She looks¡­ I don¡¯t know, she looks healthier than she did this evening. What the fuck?¡±


    Regina rocked back on her heels and started to cry. She¡¯d owe the Loa a feast after tonight, though she might strong arm Betsy, Mirabel, and Emilia into helping her. Before she did that, she needed to call her papa and ask about Granne Erzuli and why she¡¯d show up uninvited. None of that mattered before the sight of Emilia hale and hardy, breathing on her own.


    Wiping tears from her eyes, Regina took care of one last examination before she picked Emilia up and carried her back to her bedroom. She set Betsy to cleaning up the blood and making sure the aura of this place left no signs as to their activities.


    The Fae Queen, S¡¯ha Ren-la Shen Tel Roh, waved her hand across the face of the waters before her. A lone figure, Betsy her friends called her, scrubbed the floor of the summoning room in the junior complex while the other three figures slipped away into the night.


    A hunched old woman, swathed in torn starlight robes, and attended by the white and black ephemeral Geminae who usually flowed over the Fae Queen¡¯s shoulders, crooked her eyebrow at the Queen. ¡°You saved that little fairy¡¯s life just now. The girl too. Why?¡±


    The Fae Queen had grown unaccustomed to having her actions questioned, but this particular questioner had long ago earned the right. Besides, even a Fae Queen respected an incarnate Goddess. ¡°Technically, you saved them, Grandmother.¡±


    Granne Erzuli gave a wheezing cackle, and tapped the scrying urn with an old gnarled, lightning-blasted cane. ¡°I learned long ago not to joust with ye, old woman. But my question stands.¡±


    S¡¯ha Ren-la tapped one long nail against the arms of her throne. ¡°Grigo and his ilk are wrong. Boris and Joshua are wrong too. I believe that Emilia Olren and Cary Formless will prove my belief.¡±


    ¡°Ain¡¯t helping them cheating?¡±


    The Fae Queen¡¯s laughter mixed the sound of tinkling rain across a windowsill and the scraping of snow from the stoop. It set the white and black Geminae to dancing between the Loa and the Fae Queen. ¡°As I said, you helped them. My hands are as pure as Grigo¡¯s are stained.¡±


    ¡°Will you punish any of them?¡± The Loa¡¯s voice turned quiet, rumbling with menace.


    ¡°I will not, especially not the girl whom I promised to you. As for the others¡­ I¡¯ve lost three of my court this night, Grandmother. I do not wish to lose anymore. Besides, the punishment for what Emilia has done would be death, even if Mir of the White Belle survives. What remains to be seen is whether they will be caught.¡±


    At that, Granne Erzuli began to cackle, nodding her head at the Fae Queen. ¡°Tis my honest hope you never change, S¡¯ha. It would sadden me greatly.¡±


    ¡°And it is my hope that our relationship never changes, though we both must. Now, would you care to see what happens next¡­ and would you place another wager on the outcome?¡±


    The Loa gritted her teeth, but rather than shake her head and reject the Queen¡¯s offer, she nodded. ¡°Maybe in this, you could change a bit, but here are my terms¡­¡±

 Chapter 20 Emilia - Petrichor & Flowers

    Warmth shrouded Emilia as she danced under a late spring sun. A Western wind blew over fields of solid gold and a bevy of children squealed and cavorted through the amber grasses. Over the tops of their heads, they held a figure swaddled in sheepskin, bearing a painted grin, and twin wings made from swigs and rough spun yarn.


    As Emilia studied the doll ¡ª or idol ¡ª a translucent pink face turned to regard her with a wink and a outstretched tongue. An aspect in those eyes hearkened to a memory that tickled the back of Emilia¡¯s head.


    Singing songs in a strange language, the children deposited the object of their worship on a stump at the edge of their fields. Beyond that border lay a vast green wood, dripping with emerald moss and the promise of danger. The idol had many purposes, the most important of which was to guard this border, to keep the enemies of the children, mortal and otherwise at bay.


    When the last of the children had lain flowers and bits of the first fruits of the harvest at the feet of the idol, she shimmered in the dappled forest light. One moment a dull piece of wood, leather, and wool sat inert upon the stump and the next a gorgeous nude woman flexed delicate feet and flapped her wings in the fading sun¡¯s warmth.


    She looked at Emilia, her gaze piercing Emilia¡¯s skull. ¡°Once, I was a goddess. Revered as the watcher of the harvest, the mistress of the lesser boundary, and protectress of the young. They showered me with gifts and swept the cobwebs from my wings.¡±


    The woman, clad only in the flowers she¡¯d been given, danced through the twilight and into the deep forest. Emilia followed, drawn on by the woman as if drawn by invisible forces. ¡°As all children do, these grew old. Their traditions changed and the manner of my service did as well.¡±


    Though they¡¯d walked deeper into the forest, Emilia and the fairy emerged back into the field. It looked larger now, the stump where the fairy took her offerings now a major feature of the field. Wreaths, ribbons, and goblets of wine surrounded the careworn idol. Her wings had been upgraded to polished woodgrain, etched and stained with designs reminiscent of a butterfly. Children played among the field, and when they ventured too close to the edge of the forest, they ran back and touched the idol on the base of her wing. A century¡¯s worth of such obeisance had marked the bottom of the wing with the oil from a thousand children¡¯s hands.


    ¡°I still watched them, but now from afar. When they ventured too deep into the woods, all I could do was lead them back and pray that some errant beast feared my presence too much to take them.¡± The ephemeral fairy danced among the children, looking on with great concern when they raced too far away for her to stop them. ¡°I indulged too much in their gifts, too much food, too much wine. After time I grew indolent and foolish.¡±


    When Emilia turned around, the farm had grown incredibly, a half-dozen plots had sprang up with the ancient stump at their epicenter. Now the idol held a tankard in her hand and a bawdy smile upon her face. Her wings had once again been replaced, this time with large butterfly wings carved from wood and painted with a host of colors. Children and adults alike nodded to her out of respect and old women brought her gifts under the full moon, begging for grandchildren or the safety of those they already possessed. Where the fairy found milk left for her, she snuck into the home and cast her blessings upon the wombs and loins found there. Where her aegis was sought an the proper gifts left behind, she cast her simple magics upon the targets, ensuring they would never lose their way home.


    But once again, she ceased to defend her borders. The night the invaders struck, the fairy was steeped in fresh milk, hovering over a couple doing their very best to make a grandchild for their beloved elders. Until the fires stared, the fairy did not even know her home was under attack.


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    The invaders¡¯ blades brought cold iron and foreign gods to her village. The fairy loved each of those beneath her care, and she had to watch as each of them died beneath the hands of strangers. All power to stop them lost now that she¡¯d chosen a path of pleasure, none remained who could defend the village. Too afraid of the idol to strike it down while its faithful remained, the invaders finally turned upon her when the last of the fairy¡¯s chosen were dead. They desecrated her form with the blood of their victims and turned their own gods loose on the fairy.


    She suffered deprivations and abuse no goddess should suffer that night. As she lay abased and broken upon her stump, a true Goddess heard her cry. S¡¯ha Ren-la Shen Tel Roh, the Twilight Queen of Morning Dew, answered the fairy¡¯s dying wish, not to live and survive her kith and kin, but justice for those who dared defile her home. And, if possible, survival for even one of those the fairy had sworn to protect.


    As the dawn light rose upon her village, the smoke cleared. The dead lined the streets, invader and native alike. A plague had swept through their ranks in the night, a curse they said, inflicted by the angry gods of the village. Few of the invaders lived through the night and those who did died under the scythes of the village¡¯s angry neighbors.


    The fairy found no solace in her vengeance, despite the pyrrhic victory. Not until a single group of children was found, huddled beneath the floorboards surrounding a tiny doll made from string and twigs. The fairy, Mir of the White Belle died that day. In the ashes of her pyre, Mirabel was born.


    Upon the shattered altar of her former life, she swore she would die before she allowed another of her charges to pass without fighting with all of her might for their fate. With that realization, the world sped up around Emilia.


    Mirabel swore her allegiance to the Fae Queen and followed her own chargesthrough the countryside, ever watchful for danger that might strike them without knowing. She met many more fae, several of whom shared a sorrowful past. She met mortals, not of her flock who Mirabel loved and lost, to the ravages of nature and time. When the last descendants of her village passed away, the fairy Mirabel sat at her bedside and wept for her. Disease, not violence laid the old woman low, as if to reflect the curse Mirabel laid on those who¡¯d burned her village.


    With no one left to protect, the fairy devoted herself to the Fae Queen, serving her in whatever capacity she required. Mirabel stood guard at the borders when the first spell was cast to set the Sanctorum in place. To her ever watchful gaze was devoted an almost countless number of troubled students. Mirabel loved them all, and cared for them with the same intensity she devoted to those who¡¯d first worshiped her.


    Until Emilia died.


    As Emilia¡¯s soul tried to escape from her body, Mirabel faced the first failure of her second life. Only Gods, true Gods, could stave off death without consequence. And Mirabel had never been a God in the literal sense, merely a guardian and helpmate. That did not stop her from grasping Emilia¡¯s soul and holding her back from the gates of death. But to do so cost the fairy girl her very essence, which blazed away as surely as if Emilia had Consumed it herself.


    ¡°You died for me?¡± Emilia stared into the eyes of a glowing fairy maiden, Mirabel¡¯s face stared back through a haunting luminescence.


    ¡°No, you died. I refused to allow it to come to pass. I was forsworn, after all.¡±


    ¡°But it cost you your life instead of mine.¡±


    ¡°Did it? This may be a vision, a dream, but I feel very much alive right now.¡± Mirabel patted her chest and sides as if confirming they were solid. ¡°If you ask me, we¡¯re even-steven.¡±


    ¡°But¡­¡±


    Mirabel dropped her face down close enough that a stiff breeze would have shaken her into Emilia. ¡°But nothing. All that¡¯s left is for you to awake and go save your demon master. Do it quick, I¡¯m not sure how, but I can tell she is in danger.¡±


    Rather than kiss Emilia on the lips, what she¡¯d been expecting, Mirabel laid a finger on her lips and breathed into Emilia¡¯s face. Petrichor, a wreath of flowers, and the smell of musk washed over Emilia¡¯s face. Mirabel faded as Emilia blinked her eyes open.

 Chapter 21 Emilia - Mir of the White Belle

    ¡°Emilia, can you hear me?¡± A familiar voice reached out to Emilia and roused her from from her slumbers. For a moment, she resisted the call. It was neither urgent nor worried. The voice sounded almost motherly, filled with tender concern, without the tones of alarm.


    ¡°Mom?¡± The words slipped out of Emilia¡¯s mouth unbidden. Her own response pulled how out of unconsciousness and back into the world of the living. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±


    Betsy hovered too close to Emilia¡¯s head, so when she shot up, she narrowly missed smacking her best friend¡¯s head with her own. ¡°Holy shit!¡± Shouting as she dodged, Betsy covered her mouth as if to keep all of her teeth in her head.


    From a spot on Emilia¡¯s chest, a sleepy voice muttered. ¡°Holy shit is right, you idiots keep it down. Gods!¡± Emilia stared at the front of her shirt to find Mirabel clinging to the white cotton, naked as the day she was born. She shifted as she grumped at Emilia and Betsy, but didn¡¯t raise her head or open her eyes.


    ¡°Mirabel¡¯s okay?¡± The sight took Emilia¡¯s breath away. After her vision, she¡¯d been certain the fairy was dead. As soon as she posed her question, her inner eye sought for the answer on its own. Right below her connection to Cary, a handspan under the center of her chest, Emilia felt a link to the sleeping fairy. Nerves sent tremors through Emilia¡¯s body at the discovery. Mirabel had sworn herself to the Fae Queen, and based on the vision Emilia had of the Queen from Mirabel¡¯s past, Emilia did not want to cross the woman.


    Betsy burst out a single guffaw that turned into a weeping jag. ¡°You died, Em.¡± Shaking as she covered her mouth, Betsy put her hands on Emilia¡¯s arm. ¡°I felt your heart stop, there was so much blood¡­¡± The mixture of laughter and crying continued while Emilia reached up to offer comfort to her friend.


    ¡°I¡¯m okay now, right? No more blood, no more dying?¡± Emilia took the opportunity to look around the room. This was the same room she shared with Betsy ¡ª no one else stood within waiting for them or watching to see how Emilia would recover.


    Betsy nodded through Emilia¡¯s questions and over a few minutes, relayed what her friends had gone through to save Emilia. When she was done, Emilia explained what she¡¯d found when she went looking for Cary. ¡°How long has it been?¡±


    Wiping her eyes, Betsy checked her phone. ¡°Only an hour since you¡­ died.¡±


    Emilia rose from the bed cradling Mirabel as she did. ¡°Then I need to get going. Cary¡¯s in danger.¡±


    ¡°Emilia Olren! Are you insane?¡± Betsy stopped crying in an instant at Emilia¡¯s words. ¡°We just finished saving you, we can¡¯t do that again.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not letting Cary die, Betsy. I love her.¡±


    Betsy¡¯s ashen complexion darkened upon Emilia¡¯s declaration. ¡°You finally figured it out, huh?¡±


    ¡°Yes, and I am not going to let anything happen to her. Will you help me?¡± Knowing how much she¡¯d already asked of her friend, she didn¡¯t resent Betsy¡¯s hesitation before she answered. She managed the shadow of a nod before a chime sounded through the dorm.


    The ring vibrated the roots of Emilia¡¯s teeth and held her fast during the announcement. ¡°All mortal students are confined to their rooms, by order of the Sanctorum Administration. Prepare yourselves for inspection.¡±


    ¡°What the fuck is that, Bets?¡± Emilia could move again once the voice finished speaking.


    Shaking her head, Betsy said, ¡°beats me, but we did miss an assembly in the dining hall while you were out.¡±


    ¡°Shit. We¡­ we can¡¯t stay here while they search the dorms¡­¡± Emilia stood in a white cotton tee-shirt and boxer shorts. Something was missing from her outfit as she stood up and glanced in the mirror.


    ¡°Nobody wants me to fucking sleep, do they!¡± Mirabel vented her anger from Emilia¡¯s shoulder. ¡°If you¡¯re dead set on saving your demon master, we need to get moving. And quick! Maybe put on some pants?¡± Emilia settled on an easy to slip on skirt and rallied with Mirabel at the door. ¡°If they¡¯ve activated a mortal Forbidding, then you¡¯re pretty much screwed. There¡¯s no way for you to get out of here. And if they already suspect you of something, then you¡¯re double-screwed because they are going to put you to the question about what you did last night.¡±


    ¡°And S¡¯ha Ren-la won¡¯t be happy about you either, right?¡±


    Mirabel¡¯s eyes widened and she buzzed over to Emilia¡¯s lips. ¡°Holy shit don¡¯t say that name. I mean, ever! And yes, she¡¯s going to be pissed when she finds out¡­ everything. Fuck! We both need to get out of here.¡±


    Knuckles rapped against their door, as if the inspectors had begun with Emilia and Betsy¡¯s room. With her back to the door, Betsy hissed, ¡°What do I do? Let them in?¡±


    Mirabel waved her hands about and wove an illusion over the room, hiding herself and Emilia. ¡°Lie! Try to buy us some time!¡±


    Betsy nodded while Mirabel turned to Emilia and pressed her hand into Emilia¡¯s cheek. The little fairy¡¯s voice spoke loudly into Emilia¡¯s mind. ¡°You¡¯re not leaving here without transforming.¡±


    Emilia frowned and shook her head. ¡°Then we really are screwed, because I can¡¯t transform.¡±


    Shaking her head before Emilia finished speaking, Mirabel said, ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure you¡¯re just being a big dumb lunk about that. You should be able to shapeshift into anything, but I bet physical contact would help. Here. Try it now.¡± Without further warning, Mirable laid a gentle kiss against Emilia¡¯s lips.


    Eyelids fluttering, only the door opening next to them shook Emilia out of her shock enough to try what Mirabel had suggested. Where Cary had tasted of spices and heat, Mirabel tasted of bubblegum and passionflowers.


    On the inside of her mind, in the center of her being, Emilia recalled the sensation of pouring her life into Mirabel. The magic in her body responded, wrapped itself about the fairy, but the last step was broken somehow, as if that particular image weren¡¯t enough. Distantly, Betsy spouted lies to Boris and the other masters gathered behind him, one of who¡¯s voices sounded exactly like the man from the black spire last night.


    Ready to give up, Emilia¡¯s mind traced itself back to the first time he turned her into a frog. She had to imagine her shapeshift, she had to want it more than anything else. Opening her eyes to stare over at Mirabel¡¯s naked form, Emilia found a vast inner font of concern for the fae. Not only that, but she found envy and interest there too. What Emilia wouldn¡¯t give to float about on translucent butterfly wings, shooting from distraction to distraction with hardly a care in the world. Such pale skin, such lovely curves, all of Mirabel¡¯s exposed parts called to Emilia. At the end, she needed only to remind herself that she wouldn¡¯t ever see Cary again if she didn¡¯t rescue her before nightfall today. Erzuli had said that, Emilia was certain of it.


    Need and imagination poured over Emilia and shook off her mortal form like the billowy skirt she had on. Rather than abandon her clothes, she absorbed them into her, taking the blue and gold batik with her and using the fabric to craft her own dragonfly wings. Though not a perfect reflection of Mirabel, Emilia could see how she was the same height with the same pale skin as the fairy.


    ¡°Ha! I knew ol¡¯ one horn¡¯s tricks would work for you. Now we need to get the fuck out of here without them catching us!¡±


    As she spoke, the administrators pushed their way into the room. Betsy had made her best effort at putting the men off, but they didn¡¯t buy it. Boris began to weave a spell in the air, one that made Mirabel squeak and grab Emilia¡¯s hand. The illusion faded from around them as they sailed by Boris¡¯s head, Mirabel delivering a light tap on his horns as she passed.


    With the speed fairies could manage in flight, none of the administrators searching for them could keep up. And true to Mirabel¡¯s prediction, they passed out of the dorm without trouble, skiing by the prohibition against mortals.


    ¡°Hot damn! To the archway before they seal that off too! Quick quick!¡± Mirable led with her hand wrapped around Emilia¡¯s, who, despite the danger and thrill of the flight, could not quite tear her gaze away from Mirabel¡¯s feet or the small spot of hair between her legs. Blushing through the wind coursing against her face, Emilia hid her cheeks and her eyes so she could stare at something else. To do so took a supreme act of will.


    They hovered to the edge of the Sanctorum, floating up to the passage Emilia had found when she left the area astrally to hunt for Cary. ¡°Can we squeeze through here?¡±


    Mirabel nodded. ¡°Yeah, but this is your first time, so be sure to tuck you wings, arms and legs. You super don¡¯t want to get your bits cut off flying through the keyhole.¡± To demonstrate what she meant, Mirabel wrapped her wings around her body and crossed her arms over her chest and her ankles one over the other and flew like an arrow through the gap in the field around the Sanctorum.


    Emilia sucked in air as a gong sounded behind her. Pulling her wings in tight with her fingers, she ignored the sound and flew through the hole in space and time. Her body stretched and warped as alien geometries tugged at her and distorted the very fabric of reality. Passing through this gap in the astral was utterly unlike passing through physically.


    A tiny hand shot back into the gap and pulled Emilia through as the warpage of space chased her through the interior of the Sanctorum and back out into the real. ¡°Goddamn, they sealed the place. You almost got stuck in the stuffing!¡±


    ¡°The stuffing?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t ask. If you get lost in that mess, you never come out again. Teehee.¡± Mirabel pirouetted midair and ended pointing at Emilia with her chest bouncing in the breeze. ¡°Where to? And you are welcome to keep staring at my hot bod! I know you want me!¡± Mirabel slapped her ass with one hand while cupping her breast with the other.


    Emilia blushed hard enough that she feared she might swoon, shook herself and pointed in the direction of the compound where they¡¯d taken Cary. ¡°That way. Let¡¯s go!¡±


    Mirabel¡¯s fingers were chilly in Emilia¡¯s hand, but that might be due to the warmth radiating from Emilia¡¯s embarrassment. The last thing she needed was a new romantic entanglement while she still hadn¡¯t professed her love for Cary. Emilia found it odd that she wasn¡¯t concerned over Cary¡¯s safety, as if Erzuli¡¯s assurances meant nothing could harm Cary as long as Emilia reached her before the sun went down. And the morning was brought and fresh about them.


    ¡°Well this is sour-fucking-pickle.¡± Mirabel paced the side of the building where Emilia had followed Cary¡¯s lifeline the night before. From two stories up, the wall she¡¯d torn open in the astral looked pristine and undisturbed.


    When Emilia concentrated on the stone, her eyes lost focus and the lines of magical force glowed in the morning sun. They were unbroken in this light and as strong as reinforced concrete. Tapping her fingers against the wards, Emilia felt a static charge grow beneath the pads. This was different from the wards she¡¯d broken through the previous day with her magic. Whatever had changed might try to bite her back the way the altar of testing had her first day in the Sanctorum.


    ¡°What are you waiting for, absorb these wards away and let¡¯s bust this place open!¡± Mirabel hovered behind Emilia, watching her study the surface.


    ¡°This feels like the magic cast on the Altar of Testing. Something about this feels like a bad idea.¡±


    Mirabel dragged Emilia away at those words. ¡°Shit! Why didn¡¯t you say something!¡± Switching with Emilia, Mirabel cast a simple vision spell on herself. ¡°Most wards are simple and dumb as mortals.¡± She tapped the concrete and sparks flew from the contact. ¡°Ugh, make wall storng. Ugh. Make wall shrap. Oog.¡± Mirabel sighed as her hands traced the lines upon the concrete, ¡°but some wards are pieces of art. Clever little puzzles meant to trick the careless into blowing themselves up. These kinds of wards work even against ancient, inscrutable powers like the Consumption. The harder you try to smash, the harder the wards smash back. If you try to Consume such wards, your power is turned back on you.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that makes sense. Then what do you do?¡±


    Mirabel snorted. ¡°Boris will kill me for showing you this, so maybe let¡¯s make this our little secret.¡± She continued to trace the runes on the wall and the maddening shift and dance settled. ¡°You just have to follow them, like a maze with your fingers. Break the walls of the maze, and you might get a little shock, a small taste of the ward¡¯s power. But as long as you find the repeating pattern, you can unlock them, like a key.¡±


    ¡°That seems super obvious!¡±


    Mirable shrugged and lazily kept her finger along the wall. ¡°Everything seems obvious when you explain it, duh. But you¡¯d be lit up like a careless electrician if you tried this. It takes a gentle¡­ ow!¡± A loud spark jumped to Mirabel¡¯s hand and she giggled at herself as she turned her attention back to the concrete. ¡°The main problem, of course, is that the people who set these wards already know we¡¯re here messing with them now.¡±


    ¡°Shit! Can you hurry?¡±


    ¡°Not unless you enjoy the smell of fried fairy, no. But get ready. The wards under these will require your special touch. In the meantime, practice trying to trace the upper wards with your eyes. It¡¯ll help you.¡±


    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Emilia had to cast her own spell to see the runes and paths of the wards clearly. Once she did, she could tell that several layers of runes protected the exterior of this place. Beneath the newer, silvered runes, she could see the ominous dark ones she¡¯d found the night before. Based on the tugging at her chest, Cary was still in the same place. Emilia avoided following that line too far, lest she absorb more of Cary¡¯s pain and end up hurt again. What she and Mirabel intended to do about the final defenses of this place remained to be seen. They could worry about that once they breeched the outer bailey.


    A soft pop announced Mirabel¡¯s successful escape from the maze of runes and symbols on the outside of the wall. The upper layer of runes turned faint, though as soon as they did, Emilia could see them brightening again. ¡°Are those coming back?¡±


    ¡°Yes, that¡¯s a pretty hard to pull off trick, so we need to hurry. Do your thing girl. This time, try to take the magical power into your self. Don¡¯t shunt it into Cary.¡±


    ¡°How did you¡­¡±


    ¡°I watched your whole dumb astral projection. Cary probably couldn¡¯t help it, but she drained a good deal of your magical energy, likely because you were trying to pull yourself closer to her. So don¡¯t do that right now. Or even at all until we free her, okay?¡±


    ¡°Check.¡± It felt counterintuitive to shut herself off from Cary, and Emilia could sense that the best she¡¯d manage was to narrow the path between them, like the opening to a balloon making a ridiculous noise. But she would take what she could get. As soon as she¡¯d set the clamp on the link between her and Cary, Emilia reached out and touched the concrete wall.


    For an instant, the defensive runes tried to snap at her, but Emilia had already thrust her Consuming power deep into this wall. The fact that she¡¯d done it astrally the last time meant this time was much easier. She didn¡¯t feel so much as a twinge as a flood of power exploded into her. Her body couldn¡¯t hold the sheer volume of power, so she redirected it into Mirabel and along the link to Cary, heedless of the danger in doing so.


    Mirabel moaned ecstatically as Emilia filled her with Prajna. Somewhere in the glorious burst of power, Emilia had grabbed Mirabel around her waist and the little fairy had wrapped her legs around Emilia¡¯s own hips. Leaning her head into the nape of Emilia¡¯s neck, Mirabel shook with the pulses of power as Emilia drained the black lines of their magic, then the silvered reflecting lines. Soon the concrete was as mundane as any building, but Emilia wasn¡¯t done. Even without the runes, they wouldn¡¯t be able to penetrate this building, not without weapons or demolition equipment. But Emilia¡¯s power fed just like it would have fed from the lifeblood of a person.


    Pieces of concrete crumbled under her hand as she drained its essence, its very atomic cohesion. Fine grey ash drizzled from the holes her fingers poked into the concrete as Mirabel threw her head back and screamed in pleasure. She rocked her body against Emilia¡¯s as she did.


    ¡°Oh hot damn girl. Let¡¯s do that again sometime.¡± Mirabel struggled to catch her breath as she fanned herself. ¡°Man, I hope that was as good for you as it was for me.¡±


    Emilia flashed her a grimace. ¡°Mostly it just itches. I¡¯d¡­ let¡¯s get in through this hole before someone comes looking for us.¡±


    Mirabels¡¯ neck was flushed red as she panted and shook herself. She followed Emilia into the dark hallway without another comment, though she occasionally trembled, which Emilia could feel from where she held Mirabel¡¯s hand.


    The doors on the sides of this hallway all lay cracked opene, and voices emerged from all of them. Mirabel¡¯s¡­ state ended abruptly as she stiffened. A woman in the throes of childbirth screamed from one door, while another woman groaned in agony, begging Emilia to end the pain. The former was a voice Emilia had never heard before. The latter belonged to Cynthia. What did it say about her that Emilia was more drawn to Cynthia¡¯s voice and to the chance to end the evil bitch¡¯s life?


    The fairy clung to Emilia as they floated down the hallway, moving slowly so as to avoid surprises. ¡°I could save them, Emilia. I should save them¡­¡± Mirabel wandered toward a door from which Betsy and Max cried out for Emilia¡¯s help. Her astral journey through this place had left Emilia immune to the traps behind these doors.


    Emilia grabbed Mirabel¡¯s hand and pulled the fairyto face her. ¡°They died, Mirabel. None of them yet live.¡±


    ¡°Just one, Emilia, just one could be alive still. I swore I¡¯d help them¡­¡±


    ¡°Mir of the White Belle, your children have died. You know this as well as I do, for I have seen it.¡±Emilia¡¯s voice spoke with a second throat, high-pitched and more fae-like than the one her shapeshifted body used.


    Mirabel¡¯s eyes were wide and dominated by white when she turned back to Emilia. ¡°That¡¯s right. You do know¡­ I¡¯m sorry, Emilia.¡± Her wings drooped as Mirabel forced herself to look away from the door. The sight punched Emilia in the chest, hard enough to steal her breath away. She¡¯d lived through Mirabel¡¯s pain. Emilia hated the people who dared do this to Mirabel in the moment, setting aside what they¡¯d already done to Cary.


    Emilia patted Mirabel¡¯s hair the same way the fairy had done for her. ¡°It¡¯s behind us now. All of the pain and failure. I¡¯ll help you get through it if you promise to help me.¡±


    Tear-streaked eyes looked up at Emilia and Mirabel snorted. ¡°Of course¡­¡±


    The change in the air pressure warned Emilia that something approached them before it struck. Her cotton dragonfly wings vibrated a warning at the pending assault, which made Emilia wrap her arms around Mirabel and drop to the ground.


    A claw lashed out and ripped gouges from the nearby wall. The space around them rippled and the opened doors that had been trying to lure Mirabel and Emilia into their aphotic depths. Mind crushing blackness distracted Emilia from the creature slashing at her for an instant, but she recovered and rolled away with Mirabel in her arms before it brought its foot down on the two fairies.


    Mirabel squirmed out of Emilia¡¯s arms, ¡°I¡¯m good now. Let¡¯s murder this punk!¡± The sword Mirabel wielded, that had not been noticeable anywhere on her person until then, flashed into her hand, illuminating their attacker.


    It was a stooped, dark red beast with horns that curved toward each other on the top of its head. A dark field that sucked in light clung to the creature¡¯s bare body, swishing through the air as if it were a robe. Emilia had no sword she could wield agains the demon, but her weapon was her very flesh.


    While Mirabel commanded the demon¡¯s attention, Emilia flew around it, making sure to stay out of its line of sight in the process. Emilia didn¡¯t need to say anything to Mirabel. The other fairy darted around to keep the demon¡¯s back to Mirabel as she grabbed it from behind with both hands.


    She poured her will into her Consumption, driving her power into the demon and past its unholy defenses. A power flared against Emilia, but it did not try to reflect her own magic back onto her. Rather it too succumbed to Emilia¡¯s consuming magic.


    The demon faltered as Emilia drained it of its magic. In the process, she watched as it overlooked Cary¡¯s torture and flensing, saw through the monster¡¯s eyes as it relished the pain it inflicted on Emilia¡¯s love.


    Any change at mercy the creature might have had vanished in the moment. Where Emilia had restrained herself from killing Esme, though ultimately had failed, she gave up all pretense with this fiend. It wailed as Mirabel stabbed it with her magical blade while Emilia sucked out the last dregs of its magical power. The nugget at the end of the demon¡¯s magic, it¡¯s very life essence evacuated its body faster than even its magic.


    Before Mirabel could strike her finishing blow, Emilia Consumed the demon¡¯s essence. She looked on as a small coterie of demons, among them Grigo and Esme, requested the demon¡¯s vengeance against both Cary and Emilia.


    Cold fury built within Emilia¡¯s chest. She could have ended Esme, she should have ended the perfidious Temptress. Emilia would not make the same mistake a second time. The demon¡¯s memory informed her that its light-draining robe was an object of power akin to Mirabel¡¯s blade. Blazing with power, Emilia darted to the ground and snatched up the robe.


    As she did so, the illusions of the doors around her faltered and disappeared. Clarity she¡¯d not possessed even in her astral form filled Emilia¡¯s sight. Truly, the opened doors to her right and left were filled ¡ª as much as that word applied ¡ª with nothingness. They opened into an empty void that consumed its victims as surely as Emilia¡¯s own power.


    Behind her, the dead fiend¡¯s body reduced to ash as its robe shrank to fit Emilia¡¯s form.


    ¡°Holy shit Emilia, you straight murdered that guy!¡± Mirabel sounded chipper now, as if the exertion had freed her from the spell of the empty doors. She avoided looking at them while she congratulated Emilia, but Mirabel sounded better after the battle.


    ¡°We make a good team! Thanks for distracting him for me!¡±


    Mirabel winked at Emilia and giggled. ¡°You have no idea how often I¡¯ve done that. Nothing is more distracting than a me with a big honkin¡¯ sword!¡±


    Emilia ruffled Mirabel¡¯s hair, and the fairy wiggled into Emilia¡¯s hand gleefully. The change in atmosphere and attitude was palpable as they walked down the hallway. At the end of this path, Emilia expected to find Cary. She worried that her magic and Mirabel¡¯s knowledge might not be enough to stop whatever they found there.


    Based on her experience the previous night, something scarier than the demon they¡¯d just fought lurked in that room. And its power damped the bright mood Emilia shared with Mirabel.


    Facing that door, Mirabel raised an eyebrow as Emilia hesitated. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    ¡°The boss is behind here. Cary too. I think I can feel them both.¡± The demon Emilia had consumed was bound to the monster behind this door in a way that Emilia couldn¡¯t quite enunciate.


    ¡°If it¡¯s another demon, we¡¯re gonna roll it up and smoke it!¡±


    ¡°What if it¡¯s something else?¡± Emilia hated asking the question, hated the delay. But fear clamped her arms to her sides and kept her from reaching out and opening the way ahead.


    ¡°Here, let me magic us up then. We should do that anyway. Watch me so maybe you can do this yourself later!¡± Mirabel twinkled as a garment of light washed over her. This was no repurposed glove, no homespun hand me down like she¡¯d worn before she met the Fae Queen. This was a ball gown made from tiny sapphires, rubies, and purple gems Emilia had no name for. The gemstones gathered at Mirabel¡¯s chest and midriff as if they would protect her like armor from damage. A crown completed her outfit that likewise covered her ears and the top of her head.


    ¡°What is that?¡±


    ¡°These are my Vestments. You¡¯ll learn about them eventually. They work kinda like my sword¡­ sorta.¡± Mirabel waved her hands in the air as if to erase her comment. ¡°That doesn¡¯t make much sense, I get it. Just rap that black robe around you and try not to get hit.¡±


    What little confidence Emilia had fled before Mirabel¡¯s words. Before she could demand further information from the fairy, Mirabel cast a second spell. This one covered the two of them in a glittering field Emilia recognized as the same one Mirabel used to activate her illusion magic.


    After a shimmy and brief examination of herself and Emilia, Mirabel nodded and said, ¡°good, now you should be about two feet away from yourself and a little lower.¡± Mirabel darted up to the location she¡¯d indicated and waved her hands in the air. ¡°Try to keep that in mind as you move around or you¡¯re gonna get squished. Got it?¡±


    Emilia nodded and grinned at Mirabel, despite the danger. ¡°They know we¡¯re here.¡±


    ¡°Yup. Your job is to save Cary. My job is to keep the bad guys busy while you do that. Once Cary¡¯s free, get her to join the fight. Or we might all die!¡± Mirabel sounded awfully upbeat, considering the danger they faced. ¡°Come on, no reason to let them prepare any longer!¡±


    Emilia nodded and focused her power on the door before her. She couldn¡¯t use her power without touching the intended target, not yet. So she needed to be ready. As soon as her fingers contacted the door, the golden runes across the surface flared to life. Once again, these did not turn her power back against her, but still tried to sap her will. If not for the magic and life force she¡¯d drained from the fiend back on the hallway, she might have succumbed to the runic ward¡¯s draining. But Emilia had a vast supply of power she could use to turn her own magic on the door¡¯s wards.


    Though her thoughts felt sluggish and her power took forever to kick in and begin draining the magic from the door, only a few seconds passed before the door started to smoke and buckle from her magical assault. ¡°Ready?¡± Emilia felt the door¡¯s substance wan, so she braced her wings to blow it open.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡±


    At Mirabel¡¯s signal, Emilia thrust her hands into the doorway and yanked. A section of the metal folded inward like foil and the two fairies darted into the black room. At the distant wall, two women hung from dark hooks. Behind them the stones had been stained black from constant blood loss.


    The creature who stood before Mirabel and Emilia was wrapped in thorns, with black feathered wings dripping with ichor that sizzled as it struck the floor. Mirabel cried out, ¡°Shit! A Fallen! Get them while I distract it!¡±


    Both eyes had been cut from the figure¡¯s sockets, which bled the same black ichor that dripped from its wings. As it moved, Emilia saw that it had two spare sets of wings, one of which emitted steam as the black blood dripped on them. They looked almost grey, stained from the dark fluids that infused them from the upper wings.


    It opened its mouth to scream, but Mirable moved her fingers in a twitching, stochastic motion. A clarion horn blared over the unknown monster¡¯s voice, drowning it out with Mirabel¡¯s volume. Despite her magic, a portion of the Fallen¡¯s voice still reached Emilia¡¯s ears.


    Blood ran freely down her cheeks as the room tilted precariously. Across from her, Cary and the temptress Esme winced from the sound. Emilia hated the demoness and hoped she ached from the awful words of the Fallen, but she pitied Cary. The sight of the woman she loved in agony drove Emilia forward, across the room to save her.


    A swipe from a flaming sword missed Emilia as she flew. A second swipe neared her and Emilia froze for fear that she would sail into the weapon¡¯s path. Instead, a massive clang resounded through the room as Mirabel caught the Fallen¡¯s attack on her own magical blade. ¡°I said I got this! Go now!¡±


    Emilia aimed herself at Cary and sprang forward. Blood covered her from head to toe, shiny and grotesque where the raw flesh underneath poked out. If not for Cary¡¯s condition, Emilia would have struck out at Esme then and there. But Cary was a bigger priority.


    Raising her head, Cary wept tears of blood as she spotted Emilia. ¡°Oh sweet Boundary, you shouldn¡¯t be here.¡± Emilia had nothing to say to that as she pressed her hands to Cary¡¯s cheeks.


    Magic flowed from Emilia then, ending her fairy transformation, drawing the night black light stealing robe into her as she shifted. Power flared around her, chasing away the encroaching darkness of the room and sealing Cary¡¯s injuries as Mirabel dueled the fallen behind them.


    Emilia only had eyes for Cary, who¡¯s perfect skin slowly reknit itself under her ministrations. Without their link, Emilia would not have been able to do this, and she¡¯d already braved death to save Cary once. The battle behind her became meaningless in compared to what Emilia had already faced. ¡°I love you Cary. I¡¯m sorry it took me so long to get here.¡±


    It was the most important thing after healing the demoness. Emilia spoke the words mind to mind, heart to heart in a magical way that could not involve any level of deception. For a pregnant, horrifying moment, Cary didn¡¯t reply. ¡°I love you too, Emilia Olren.¡±


    Emilia could breathe again and a massive well of love and compassion opened up within her. For the first time, she could sift through Cary¡¯s memories, though most of the images were fractured and beyond her understanding. Some of them were not, among them the knowledge that the tortured demoness next to Cary wasn¡¯t in fact Esme, but her tiny sister and another victim of the Fallen Angel fighting with Mirabel.


    The knowledge they battled a Fallen Angel did nothing to slow Emilia. As if her fear had already reached the red line and topped off its capacity, she set the information aside and turned to the other victim. With one hand on Cary¡¯s cheek, Emilia extended her hand to Dorcas and thrust her power into the Temptress.


    As she did, she received brief impressions from Dorcas¡¯s mind. The Temptress had feelings for Cary and in that bright shining moment of gnosis, Emilia didn¡¯t mind. Her own illusions had been stripped away and Emilia recognized that she felt parallel feelings toward Mirabel. Perhaps urgency forced her to ignore the complications and entanglement of her love life, but in the midst of saving Dorcas¡¯s life, Emilia did not care about or mind a rival for Cary¡¯s affections. In truth, she had to admit a bit of attraction to the Temptress herself, especially as she witnessed directly how innocent and kind the demoness was.


    Emilia¡¯s power flared bright enough to cast shadows onto the blackened wall. The light from her magic faded. Cary and Dorcas stood up and wrapped themselves around Emilia as the fight with the Fallen angel grew more desperate. It struck at Mirabel with one hand, its wings buffeting and swinging down at her while it turned its eyeless gaze on the other three.


    ¡°My charge is complete. The targets have assumed the position, master¡­¡± The Fallen Angel opened its mouth and Emilia screamed. A dart of light shot from the opposite side of the Fallen Angel as a crawling darkness emerged from its mouth.


    Hideous shrieks, weeping and other terrible sounds exploded from the Fallen Angel¡¯s maw along with the morass of creeping darkness. Like a blob from a horror movie, the creeping darkness slithered toward Emilia and the three other women. As it reached them, Mirabel grabbed onto a lock of Emilia¡¯s hair. Blackness stole Emilia¡¯s conscious mind as the morass touched her.

 Chapter 22 Cary - Final Trial

    Despite the imperious attitude of the throned woman and uncomfortable twitching of her attending masters, Cary¡¯s heart sang. After everything they had been through, the torture and separation from Emilia meant nothing to her now. Emilia had confessed her love for Cary, and Cary had taken the opportunity to do the same. Nothing could nullify that fact.


    Masters Cary did not know escorted Dorcas and Mirabel away, though the fairy lingered as long as she could waving to the queen on her throne and assuring her that not only was she a loyal subject, but that the queen ¡°could totally call on Mirabel for sex anytime.¡±


    Until the others had left Cary and Emilia kept their hands intertwined and faced the throne with their heads held high. When the queen turned her gaze upon the two of them, Cary saw the all-silver orbs within her eye sockets for the first time. This was no mortal queen, this was a Fae Queen, possibly the Fae Queen. The first hint of nervousness crept between her shoulders at that revelation.


    ¡°Do you know why we diverted your portal to this place?¡± The queen spoke without preamble, keeping her rod-straight back flat against her throne as she moved only enough to stare down at the two of them.


    Cary felt nothing in particular from that gaze, but the words send Emilia¡¯s hands trembling. ¡°No ma¡¯am.¡±


    ¡°I would care to hear your guess.¡±


    Emilia¡¯s slight tremor shifted into full on quakes as her knees knocked together and her shoulders rocked back and forth. ¡°B¡­because we snuck into the black spire and spied on the captive Fel Slaves?¡±


    Cary sucked in breath and bit her lip. She had heard such titles and did not care for them. That the Sanctorum used them transformed the flickering between her shoulders into something vicious and painful.


    ¡°No, but perhaps we will hear more of this adventure. For now, I wish to hear the darkest secret you can manage from your own lips.¡± Until she had spoken those last words, Cary had not realized what the Fae Queen was doing. Her powers were beyond subtle, here Cary was holding Emilia¡¯s hand and Cary could not sense the effect the Fae Queen laid upon Emilia.


    ¡°I¡­¡± Emilia bit her lip in a mirror of Cary¡¯s pose.


    In a fit of inspiration, Cary whispered to Emilia telepathically, lending her the strength to foil the Fae Queen¡¯s power. ¡°I snuck away astrally and found my demon servant. Then I snuck away physically and rescued her from a Fallen Angel.¡±


    The self-same words issued from Emilia¡¯s throat, bidden by the mortal¡¯s instant acquiescence to Cary¡¯s will. She could have coerced Emilia, but she trusted Cary and nothing on Earth would move the demoness to abuse that trust.


    Cary smiled as Emilia finished her delivery, right until the Fae Queen dug her nails into the top of her throne. ¡°Separate them, now.¡±


    I love you Emilia, I am sorry¡­ Cary sent a message to Emilia, but a pair of rough hands, large enough to belong to a giant, grabbed Cary and pulled her away from Emilia. Another giant appeared at Emilia¡¯s side and held in her place.


    ¡°Now I will re-ask my question. What is the darkest secret you keep from me, child? What have you been hiding?¡± The Fae Queen stared at Cary with a glare hot enough to melt Cary¡¯s own stone body.


    ¡°I am Cary¡¯s mortal servant.¡± Emilia shook her head as the Fae Queen¡¯s magic forced the words from between Emilia¡¯s lips.


    Boris sucked in a breath shaking his head and mouthing ¡°I don¡¯t believe it,¡± at Emilia¡¯s acknowledgment. Joshua blushed and tried to maintain a deadpan expression at Emilia¡¯s non-revelation. At the very least, Cary knew she could trust the master to hold his tongue.


    As if the Fae Queen read Joshua¡¯s thoughts, she raised her head and said, ¡°all servants and masters who knew of this secret themselves, step forward and declared yourselves recreant.¡±


    Joshua mouthed words silently as his legs forced him forward. Even Cary stepped forward with two steps toward the throne. With a small puff of air, Mirabel appeared. All three of them spoke in unison. ¡°I am recreant of my oaths.¡±


    The words offended Cary. She had spoken no oath of fealty to this queen. The Fae Queen turned her gaze upon Joshua and said, ¡°you are dismissed from your place among the masters. You are returned to your place as servant.¡± She then pointed to Mirabel, ¡°Mir of White Belle, when did you learn that Emilia was the mortal servant of this Formless One?¡±


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    Mirabel lowered her head, nodding lighter than the queen deserved. ¡°The night Miss Olren saved my life and I hers, the night I gave up my centuries of service to You, my queen.¡±


    The Fae Queen sucked in a breath, but her eyes did not move. With a strange flash of insight, Cary recognized that as one of the Fae Queen¡¯s tells. She already knew Mirabel no longer served her, this theatre had been arranged beforehand, though as far as Cary could tell, Mirabel had no part of the deception. ¡°I will decline to punish you, under the condition that you provide a full report of this night and explain how it was that a mortal risked her life for yours.¡±


    ¡°Now, my queen?¡± Mirabel spoke with a miserable tone in her throat.


    ¡°No. We must first dispense with those who endanger Us.¡± The Fae Queen pointed at Cary. ¡°Demon, what are you intentions with the mortal Emilia Olren?¡±


    White and black ribbons of translucent magical power streamed out of the Fae Queen¡¯s hands, flowing from the two ghostly twins over her shoulder. Though Cary saw the magic coming, the giant¡¯s hands on her shoulders kept her from moving. The power the Fae Queen wielded was insidious and absolutely compelling. ¡°I intend to love and protect her, to make her my own in every meaningful way.¡±


    Emilia gasped at Cary¡¯s bold proclamation. It was the truth and nothing more. In a way, Cary¡¯s chest swelled with pride at her bold announcement. But the others around them murmured with concern. As far as Cary knew, nothing she had said should have produced such noises.


    The Fae Queen sighed and shook her head. ¡°Then We have no choice but to proceed. Prepare the mortal for the Fel Prison. Take the demoness and hold her.¡±


    Cary had a notion of what they meant by ¡°Fel Prison.¡± And she had no intention of letting this assemblage take Emilia from her now. ¡°Over my dead body¡­¡±


    The stone came to Cary as naturally as breathing, as if the seed of density lived within her heart. The hand locked on her shoulder clamped itself around Cary, but instead of dropping down, she shot up into a leap from a standing position. Though she had not been able to view the full scope of the giant¡¯s position, based on the way he held her shoulder, she did not believe he had much room to move.


    To her surprise, the hand went limp on her shoulder. Cary checked with a glance and found a small red portal next to her, with the giant¡¯s severed arm flopping pathetically on the ground. She assumed they intended to drag her into the portal when the queen made her judgement.


    Two targets presented themselves for Cary, the queen herself and Emilia. Violence was always an option, but in this case, Cary just had to save the woman she loved. Wrapping her arms around Emilia, Cary lifted her out of her own giant¡¯s grip and rolled with her toward a door at the edge of the tent. It was a desperate move, but the only moves available to Cary were desperate ones.


    No one stopped her as she pulled Emilia with her into the next room. Through curtains beaded with small gemstones, Cary rose with Emilia still in her arms. Emilia¡¯s light brown hair covered Cary¡¯s face for a moment. When Cary could see again, she swore. A small cadre of guards stood in a semi-circle around them. Cary whispered into Emilia¡¯s ear. ¡°I am going to run, I want you to escape through the path I make. Don¡¯t wait for me and don¡¯t look back.¡±


    Those guards wielded daggers and short swords that crackled with gold and green energies. This was not Cary¡¯s first encounter with such weapons. Such weapons would slice through Cary¡¯s body as if it were thin reeds, even if she assumed her toughest stone nature. But Emilia would live, and that would be enough for Cary.


    As she crouched and readied herself to pounce, Emilia placed a hand on her shoulder. Unlike the giant, that hand stopped Cary without the slightest pressure. ¡°Wait, please Cary?¡±


    Shaking, on the edge of springing forward, Cary shook. ¡°What?¡± None of the guards moved as the two women conferred with each other.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to watch you die. Please just let this happen and remember that I love you too. Please? I don¡¯t think the queen¡­ I don¡¯t think she will let them kill you or she already would have done it.¡±


    The thought of her impending execution rocked through Cary¡¯s mind. Of course that was how people who saw Emilia as nothing more than a Fel Slave would end this. Cary should have known. One simple path presented itself to keep Emilia safe, now that she saw it, it was obvious to Cary.


    ¡°Okay. I love you too, Emilia.¡±


    Emilia threw her arms around Cary¡¯s neck and kissed her, pressing herself into Cary¡¯s body as if she could take an impression of it before they were separated. Seconds passed and hope sprung up from Cary¡¯s chest. If the guards were not going to stop them, perhaps they would be allowed to leave this place unharmed, together.


    Then the guards burst into motion, the tiny sprig of hope in Cary¡¯s heart died as they tore Emilia away from her. Two masters, neither of whom Cary recognized, hoodwinked Emilia with a black and gold shroud that grew longer as it wrapped itself about her.


    Cary bowed her head and ceased resisting. Those energy-charged weapons could strike her down instantly, especially as she shifted herself into weakened flesh. Those guards pulled her into the queen¡¯s throne room and forced Cary to her knees before the Fae Queen.


    ¡°If you kill me, Emilia will never forgive you. But since you will do it anyway, you deserve her vengeance.¡± Cary¡¯s mouth was dry, but not so much that she could not make her last words count. ¡°And you are as dark as a Fallen for doing this.¡±


    ¡°Are you done?¡± The Fae Queen did not sound amused.


    ¡°No. And fuck all of you for doing this! I hope you find yourselves a particularly nasty corner of the Infernim for¡­¡± a strike against her head knocked Cary senseless. As she staggered into unconsciousness, she cursed the court, the Sanctorum and their cowardly masters, and the gods themselves for turning against her but more especially against Emilia. Only as her awareness faded did she spare a thought for why they knocked her out rather than cut off her head.

 Chapter 23 Emilia - The Fel Prison

    The spicy-sweet taste of Cary¡¯s lips lingered on Emilia¡¯s tongue. That savor did nothing to staunch the flow of tears as she realized what they would most likely do to Cary. In the moment, she had been brave and certain of the Fae Queen¡¯s compassion. But shackled beneath this magically enchanted hood, she could no longer sense Cary.


    It made no sense, why imprison her if they intended to execute Cary? Why go through any of this farce? Those thoughts did nothing to assure Emilia, not anymore. Unlike the Fel Slave she¡¯d first seen brought into the black spire, she wept like a child the whole way.


    Minutes passed as the group slowly processed Emilia through the camp. With her hood covering her sight, Emilia couldn¡¯t tell if it was day or night. The masters wanted to keep the black spire from the rest of the students, but maybe they wanted to make an example of Emilia more?


    The tears flowed harder and Emilia stumbled with the manacles around her legs tangling in her feet. After a short pause, during which her escort untangled the chains and shoved her on, Emilia discovered she could still hear. And Cary¡¯s gift of preternatural hearing had not yet left her. The discovery filled Emilia with hope, as did each soft chirp and hum from the insects surrounding her.


    A night filled with buzzing announcements of the hour told Emilia they had arrived back on Earth quite late, so late the sun would soon rise. No other students crossed their path; her escort most likely saw to that.


    They stopped her early, as a voice hailed the men from up ahead. ¡°Wait! I would see the prisoner before you confine her!¡± It was Joshua¡¯s voice.


    ¡°You are master no more Joshua of the Cabal. Stand aside for the Fell Prisoner.¡± The voice belonged to one of the other masters, not Boris. In a way the fact her teacher was not necessarily one of the men leading her away reassured Emilia.


    ¡°Yes, Elijah. You are correct of course. I bear a missive from our queen. Here.¡±


    Emilia prayed this was her escape attempt. Right about now, Joshua would activate some secret magic to free her from her hood and chains. The man who¡¯d challenged Joshua clicked his tongue. ¡°We will change the hood once we have entered the Fel Prison.¡±


    ¡°Ah, did you read the note? To switch the hood within the prison poses a significant risk. Surely you know this, Master Elijah?¡±


    A growl answered Joshua¡¯s provocation. But after a moment¡¯s pause, the hoodwink came off. To Emilia¡¯s dismay, Boris was one of the men bringing her to the black spire ¡ª she refused to use their name for the place.


    Joshua avoided looking at her as Boris and another master wove a cooperative spell. After a few seconds, the black caul vanished and a red one replaced it. Emilia shivered at the presence of that caul. But no amount of sinister cloth could cause her real pain now. Through the connection between their hearts, Emilia could feel Cary. Her beloved lived, they hadn¡¯t executed her. The longer that remained true, the more certain Cary¡¯s chances became.


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    It was all that mattered to Emilia. Before she met her, Cary had suffered more than eight thousand years of forced slavery. If it meant Cary survived, Emilia could suffer twice that term of imprisonment. The only pain there would be the very separation from Cary.


    Joshua nodded to the other masters and flicked his eyes to Emilia as they unfolded the cloth. A faint whisper reached her hears. ¡°Tikkun Ollam. Say the words, emblazon them on your heart, child. Tikkun Olam. The Shamir prefer their native tongue.¡±


    Joshua¡¯s lips didn¡¯t move, but none of the masters around Emilia noticed him speaking. As the red shroud covered Emilia¡¯s head and shoulders, she shivered again in surprise. She¡¯d paid the connection between herself and Mirabel far less attention than she had the connection between her and Cary. Once the red shroud blocked out her sight, both connections sheared away as if cut by a knife. With the change to her awareness, Emilia noted that the black shroud had not cut off her connection to Mirabel. Joshua¡¯s presence made far more sense now, though he¡¯d apparently given her something she could use with the Shamir.


    The red shroud dulled Emilia¡¯s hearing, but not absolutely. Sound faded to the background, but the hum from the black spire could not have been more distinct. It resonated in Emilia¡¯s bones, the green light from the spire leaked into the red shroud as surely as the sound vibrated Emilia¡¯s body.


    ¡°Tikkun Olam.¡± She prayed she¡¯d heard Joshua right and had pronounced the words correctly. But the green mist did not respond. She¡¯d hoped it would melt the red shroud around her body and throw off her chains, but a brighter glow was all she got. And Emilia was uncertain about even that. Still, she repeated the words at low breath over and over. For all she knew, she was insulting the Shamir or the ancestry of the masters who escorted her. But Emilia clutched at any lifeline, anything to give her hope.


    Around her, the masters jerked her chains and brought her to a stop. The clanking of the chains in a circle around her made Emilia¡¯s chant falter. As if the masters had been awaiting her mistake, they began their own loud chant, a kind of call and response that would seal Emilia into the black stone forever. Desperation brought renewed tears to Emilia¡¯s eyes and made her own repeating phrase quake between her lips. She didn¡¯t know how they would put her in the stone, what would happen to her when the spire took her. Rather than hoping it wouldn¡¯t hurt, Emilia only hoped that Cary would be safe.


    With a final ¡°Tikkun Olam,¡± the stone at Emilia¡¯s feet began the slow, inexorable process of crawling up her bare legs. A darkened part of her soul flickered in response and Emilia remembered her shadow robes, the ones she¡¯d absorbed into her body before leaving the Infernim. As a final desperate move, she tried to expel those robes to bring them out as vestments to protect herself. A tiny sliver of shadow emerged from her throat as the stone rushed to cover her.


    For an agonizing second, Emilia was certain she¡¯d choke to death. Suddenly, air filled her lungs and she could breathe. But she could not move a muscle. A red field covered her vision with tiny darting lights on the other side. Gold and black runes obscured Emilia¡¯s sight as she watched the masters shuffle her through the deck of imprisoned magicians like some kind of toy on display.


    When she opened her mouth to scream, one of the lights appeared and blinked at her. ¡°Tikkun Olam?¡± She could imagine it cocking its head to the side like a dog or cat trying to understand its owner¡¯s inscrutable ways.


    Emilia¡¯s mouth worked suddenly and she said the only words she thought would matter: ¡°Yes! Tikkun Olam!¡±


    The green light flared to brilliance and Emilia passed out, lost to awareness.

 Epilogue - Sha Ren La

    ¡°Why not simply destroy the demoness, my queen?¡± The Fae Queen flexed her fingers as Marcus, the Master of the Prison, eyed her from beneath his raised eyebrows. In a different world, S¡¯ha Ren-la ripped the throat from such an impertinent questioner, as an example to the others. But the same explanation stayed her hand. Should the whole camp of mortal magicians turn against them, that would be inconvenient too.


    ¡°I do not care to explain my whims, Marcus.¡± She settled her hand back on the throne, trying to relax the tension out of her body. ¡°But as it is you who asked, I will answer: it is because I wish to study her. She was prepared to give up her life for the mortal. When was the last time such a display occurred among the Infernals?¡±


    ¡°If I may offer my opinion, my queen?¡± S¡¯ha Ren-la shut out the image of slitting his throat and motioned to Marcus to continue. ¡°It is because the demon knew her only chance of survival was to display so-called compassion. Her race is not capable of such feelings.¡±


    ¡°I wonder¡­¡± Rage made the Fae Queen voice her question and she bit her lip. Around her, the Gemini shook their fingers at her as if admonishing a naughty child. She rolled her eyes and decided to complete her thought aloud. ¡°¡­once Fae and most otherworlders were seen through the same lens. Soulless and therefore incapable of empathy, love, or any rarefied emotion. And yet, even ogres and giants are accepted among the mortals who know the truth.¡±


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    ¡°My queen, but the demons are Infernals¡­¡±


    ¡°I do not believe I heard you correctly, Master Marcus. Were you about to attempt to educate me on the nature of the demonic?¡± S¡¯ha Ren-la had her limits. Sometimes examples had to be made.


    But not this day. The sycophant dropped to his knees, with his head touching the carpet. ¡°Forgive me, my queen. I have vastly overstepped my bounds.¡±


    ¡°Indeed.¡± S¡¯ha Ren-la dismissed the masters with a flick of her hand. ¡°I have made my decision regarding the Demoness Cary. She is to remain alive and imprisoned in the special demi-plane for now. Before you leave, Marcus, what of the true instigators of these events, Grigo and his consort, Esme?¡±


    Marcus¡¯s shoulders sagged into the carpet where he kowtowed. Still, he waited for the last of the masters to leave before he answered. ¡°They¡¯ve been secreted away. Under our noses, as it were. I suspect whoever removed them used the same general trick they used to allow the mortal Emilia to escape our notice.¡±


    S¡¯ha Ren-la dug her nails into the arms of her throne. ¡°Find them. I would have them flayed as Waerlock as a lesson to any others. And I would find their conspirators.¡±


    ¡°The traitor fairy, Mira¡­¡±


    ¡°Stop. Mir of the White Bell is no more a traitor than I am a goblin. I have examined her and found nothing amiss. She is to be returned to her former position. Restore her freedom.¡±


    Marcus twitched under the queen¡¯s orders, but he left his forehead touching the carpet. ¡°As you command, my queen.¡±