Chapter 13
I’d started by renovating Carmine’s room.
And I’d stopped after that, my renovations complete and perfect.
I hadn’t seen Carmine all day—another bonus—and I figured that had something to do with the mood in the training hall this morning, rather than in response to my paint job.
Something was brewing at the gates.
“He readies his army to attack,” said my grandfather from where he sharpened his dagger near the small, round table where we tended to eat.
“I’d say so.” I tossed some vo berries in my mouth—I’d taken food from the fortress again, but stole it directly from the kitchen this time. Adeuto’s face was covered in the green vo juice.
“Which supernatural will he attack first?” mused Grandfather.
Whoever it was, they should tremble with fear.
Carmine had an army of thousands, and demons were a vicious enemy.
Pain was our survival, and where most races naturally feared pain, those in this realm chased such suffering.
On top of that, we possessed magic, which Vissimo and Luthers did not.
They had their own strengths, but magic was a formidable edge and one that allowed us to attack from a distance—as Carmine had done for hundreds of years.
I answered, “I didn’t pay much attention at the time, but I expect that he will attack magus first. He spoke least of them because of my ties to the race, and there was a forbidding edge to his posture that warned me not to ask because I wouldn’t like the answer.”
Vissimo clans, a Luther pack, and a magus coven occupied the three surrounding territories, so if not magus, then one of them would soon have demons knocking at their doors.
Attacking magus made sense as they possessed magic too.
But a physical war was the final attack, really.
Unbeknownst to other races, Carmine had been attacking them for a long time.
He’d capitalized on a painful event within each race—the death of their last ruler in the case of magus—to seep his power inside their territories.
His goal had been to create as much pain as possible for as long as possible.
“Carmine knew that he couldn’t just cleave the other races in two to create the division he needed.
At this distance, Carmine can’t affect such drastic change. ”
So he’d created a situation that achieved that for him. And the magus—and then the Vissimo and the Luthers—had done all the dirty work for him. Ingenious, really.
Each supernatural race had been encouraged, in ignorance, to spark a game to decide something crucial to their species—like a new magus ruler.
The games were the foundations for Carmine to continue seeping his magic into their territories and homes in a bid to split their covens, clans, or packs in two and create a real and lasting divide.
My mother’s coven had been playing their game for longest.
And all that pain and anger and division? That was crucial because it allowed Carmine to push hundreds of demon gates into their territories. These gates were invisible to them, but one day soon, demons would pour through those gates into the heart of their homes—inside their defenses.
“He must have gates inside their walls now,” I murmured.
“A good thing we are two weeks from sending them a warning,” grandfather answered.
Unlike me, Grandfather didn’t care about the other supernaturals. He did care that they received a warning because he wished them to rise against Carmine and do our murderous work for us. He cared about hurting Carmine.
But me… perhaps my mother and grandmother had fled their coven when Mother fell pregnant with me, and perhaps I didn’t know any of them, but I felt a kinship to the magus coven that was impossible to ignore, mostly due to my particular magus affinity.
Of the four affinities, divination tuned a magus keenly to her ancestors and her sense of home and duty.
The demon realm was my home, but there was a sense of a sister home on Earth too.
“Two weeks feels too long,” I answered as Adeuto ran to play outside. “Anything could happen in that time.”
I felt his blue gaze settle on me.
I glanced up. “I need to search the dungeons.”
He accepted that in a blink. “The dungeons that are guarded by crimsons and likely his magic.”
“Yes, but Athira left the fortress again this morning. Aside from Carmine, she’s the only other demon who can mask their presence around me. If an opportunity presents itself, I must search for my sister.”
“You know she is there.”
I nodded. I did. Adeuto had told me, and when I’d explored his magic, I’d felt her.
The tethers that used to connect me to my twin, mother, and grandmother had withered the day of their murder.
I’d assumed that the connections were gone because they were all dead.
What I hadn’t realized for some time was that the mating ritual also severed a woman’s tethers.
To everyone but her mate. Once I’d known that, I hadn’t thought to question whether my family was all dead.
Instead, I’d felt some peace in knowing that I would have always lost those connections from mating Carmine.
Back when I’d loved him.
Adeuto, part magus in his own right, possessed his own familiar tethers.
One to me and Grandfather, one to Carmine, his sister, and Mother, which thankfully none of them could feel, being demons.
Then one day, for no apparent reason, he had gained one to my twin.
What remained of her. The tether was never there before, not like the others, but suddenly it had popped into being.
That was how I’d learned, two and a half months ago, that my twin was alive.
“If you are caught?” he asked.
I blew out a breath. “Ideally, I won’t be. If I am, I can try to say that I was undertaking my queenly duties. Nothing will convince Carmine, though. He’ll know that I’m aware of my twin if I’m caught.”
“A great risk. Especially when you already know she is there.”
Grandfather disapproved. He’d also survived this long on cautious instincts.
Which wasn’t something to discredit, but caution was the loudest voice in his head now.
“My magus power is not something to ignore. That’s warning me to seek out my sister, and I trust that warning.
What if my sister is… unresponsive or incapable of doing what we wish?
Our plan hinges on her ability to move and talk, and to talk cohesively and convincingly.
She was all of those things when I last knew her.
But 95 percent of her is dead. How functional is that last 5 percent? ”
He nodded. “Your human instincts have not led you astray yet.”
Magus instincts. I didn’t bother correcting him. Demons had some serious hang-ups about other supernaturals.
Adeuto barreled back in. “Mama! A rock.”
I caught him as he leaped onto my lap and pushed a blue stone toward my face.
“Look,” he declared, then lisped, “special.”
I took the blue rock in my hand and grunted at the trickle of warmth. “It is special, darling. My magus power is reacting to it.”
“Me too, Mama! It’s like your hugs.”
I smiled and hugged him in response. “And yours. Warm, comforting, and reassuring. I’ve never seen another gem like it.”
Magus were big on gems to purify and center—and gems could also behave like power reserves.
I’d never collected them in the same way Tempest had, but I’d recently realized that not exploring my divination affinity was a mistake.
I hadn’t considered that there would be a range of gems in this realm too.
Adeuto closed my fingers around the gem. “For you.”
I shook my head. “No, my little love. I want you to have all the hugs.”
His eyes were unseeing as a deep voice floated from him. “The gem is meant for you.”
I nodded. “Then I shall keep it safe and always with me.”
“Put it in your boot.”
My brows rose. “Okay?”
“Now.”
I wasn’t about to argue with a possessed toddler. “Done.”
His divination magic released him, and he beamed angelically up at me.
“Thank you for the gift,” I said, my mind on the gem wedged in my boot. No doubt the mother would reveal the purpose of the gem in her own time. No point worrying about it.
Adeuto kissed my cheek, then nuzzled into me for a cuddle. He was getting clingier the longer I was away.
I wrapped my arms around him. Nearly time to go.
I hated this.
Two weeks until I could free Tempest. If she was functional, then how long until she delivered a warning to other supernaturals? As a demon too. Would other supernaturals even listen to a demon?
And then how long for them to wage war on demons? These things didn’t happen overnight. Months—it could take months. Months of trying to keep myself together. Months of these goodbyes. Months of risk.
So many maybes and ifs. When it came to my son, I wanted neither of those things.
My exhale shuddered, and I realized Grandfather was speaking. “What was that?”
He frowned. “I need to go on a supply run this week.”
“I can bring food from the kitchen.”
“You know there are other supplies we require. Supplies that you cannot be caught stealing as they would point to our possible location.”
The desert required some unique items, that was true enough. But a supply run? We’d intended to do one before I’d entered Tiers, but with training and planning and entering the game, doing so had fallen by the wayside. “When?”
“Before the next round.”
The next round when I might not come back after. I nodded. “Yes, then I can come for part of the day.”
And I’d come back earlier. Or several times in the day. “Just for a day?”
“A day and a night.”
The night would be fine. Adeuto slept like a brick. And he was just old enough to make this possible. Still, I didn’t want to ask so much of my son’s bravery. A whole day alone was no small thing. “You know who is looking?” For you. I tried to keep my tone light and casual for my son’s sake.
Grandfather grunted. “I do.”
Carmine’s mother could not be underestimated.
I carried the bundle in my arms outside. “Adeuto…”
Where to start?
Gray eyes peered up into my own, so utterly trusting of me that I nearly broke down there and then. “Grandfather’s going for the day. I’ll be okay, Mama.”
“You will be okay,” I said firmly. “You are brave.”
He nodded. “Even when I’m not brave, some tasks must be done.”
The floating quality to his voice was not entirely his.
“Our ancestors lend us wisdom when we need it most.”
My son smiled. “Ancestors are my friends.”
Guilt twanged in my stomach. They were his only friends, just as they’d been my friends as a child—but I’d had Tempest too. I wasn’t doing enough for my son. Trapping him out in the desert without others. How would he learn all that was needed to survive?
The weight of not being and doing enough as a mother was crushing.
“They were my friends too,” I said softly.
“I’m like you.” He beamed.
I considered all the disorders that I hadn’t officially been diagnosed with.
“You’re better than me, darling. Much better.
Mama will try to come back more times when Grandfather is away.
He will leave food out for you—it needs to last all day.
” I’d bring more food from the fortress as well.
“You must stay inside, my love. All day until I’m here, do you understand?
I know it’s hard, but that is very, very important. ”
Adeuto nodded solemnly. “I hear you, Mama. I’ll stay inside.”
I kissed his forehead, then held him close. “How about a game before I leave?”