44. Epilogue
Epilogue
A bbott was not happy.
He stood beside Midas in the Grand Cathedral, quietly surveying the destruction from the dais. Golden Sand blew throughout the hall, around their sandals, into their hair. Fifty acolytes worked furiously, trying desperately to collect it all and stop it from twirling around in the small gusts that billowed throughout the great space.
The broken glass pillars would need to be replaced, as would the flooring of the dais. The expensive mosaic would have to be redone.
“Come,” Midas said softly.
Abbott obediently followed the God-King away from the chaotic scene and back to his personal apartments, where they could finally talk, alone.
“Who do you think is responsible?” Midas demanded as he reached for a tall, thin pitcher and poured himself a flask of wine.
“I don’t know yet.” Abbott sat down on a plush settee and put his head in his hands. He was exhausted. “But, publicly, we should blame those separatists, the Children of Midas. That’ll take the wind out of their sails for a while.”
It grated deeply at Abbott that Midas had been quiet about the dissidents ever since they’d reared their heads. He could have shut them and their entire infernal doctrine down with a single word, and yet, for reasons known only to himself, he continually ignored Abbott’s requests to do so.
“I disagree. That would only derail the effort to find the real culprits,” the God-King said with a dismissive wave of his hand.
Abbott bristled. He watched as Midas settled himself comfortably in another seat and gazed out the window.
Abbott wondered if they were going to discuss the mishap that had occurred at the sacrifice, just prior to the explosion, or if Midas would simply ignore it and pretend it never happened.
He could barely believe it himself. Had Midas’s powers truly not worked on the demon?
The more Abbott thought about it, the more he realised that the explosion had actually been a blessing in disguise. He had no idea what he would have done – what Midas would have done – if the entire crowd at the ball had seen the demon standing defiant to his touch. It would have brought everything tumbling down. Such an occurrence had never happened before…and could not be allowed to happen again.
Midas seemed to be thinking about it too. “Did we apprehend the sacrifice?” he finally asked.
“Unfortunately, not,” Abbott replied through gritted teeth, rankled by the failure. “She escaped in the chaos.”
“How did she resist my touch?” Midas mused aloud, looking at his hands in fascination. “It was as though her very skin was made of these gloves. ”
Not for the first time, Abbott desperately wished that Midas had not killed the man who’d kindly made him the gloves all those years ago, at least not before finding out what they were made of, but he said nothing. Midas already knew his feelings about the matter.
What he said instead was, “It’s imperative that we find and interrogate her. I have jesu on the hunt as we speak. We need to know if she is simply an anomaly with a protective power, or if her ability to resist your touch was a more deliberate act. If it’s the former, then we have very little to worry about, but if it’s the latter, that’s a far bigger problem.”
Abbott couldn’t unsee the look of hope and relief he’d seen on the face of that other demon, Culis’s demon. He wanted to tell Midas about it, but her continued existence was already such a sore topic between them that he hesitated. Allowing his daughter to torture the creature for her own entertainment had been one thing, but allowing her continued survival in the employ of that trader? Permitting her to leave the ball after the explosion? Abbott didn’t understand these decisions at all. It went against everything he thought they’d tried to accomplish over the past four decades.
Why Midas had suddenly decided this particular demon was permitted to live and breathe so openly in their midst was a mystery, and even more infuriating was the fact that he would suffer no questions about it.
“If that female is resistant to my magic, you will bring her to me alive.”
Abbott noted the hunger on Midas’s face and barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes. They might uncover someone who could destroy the fabric of the Church they’d created, and all Midas could think about was finally bedding a woman he could touch with his bare hands. It would have been comical if it wasn’t so stupid.
“I will do my best to find her. Never fear, little brother.” Abbott stood up and walked to the door. “You know I’ll always do whatever it takes to protect you.”
Midas nodded and then groaned as he leaned back with a sigh of exhaustion that seemed to carry the weight of the world. He closed his eyes and drained his flask.
Abbott spared his limp form a parting glance as he pushed open the heavy wooden door. “The Church must be protected at all costs,” he muttered, closing the door behind him.