Chapter Thirteen #2
Everyone. Damaris allowed him to peer through his eyes, and Archie could see the flickering of hundreds of human bodies, each a mosaic of differently colored energies, veins of blue-black gently being wafting towards his body.
We agreed you wouldn’t, thought Archie, the sting of betrayal sharp in his chest. After that couple the other side of the library.
Damaris sent a thought of him using his magic, flicking desire into the audience to provoke it in return. We agreed I would not do that. You are the only recipient of my powers that way. This is different. It is like breathing it in.
Archie scowled, glad that everyone was turned towards the stage so no one could see his face. You didn’t mention this before.
We have not had occasion to. You are rarely in crowds. Damaris pointed out. It is like when humans stand in rain, you naturally get wet. Yes, you have methods to avoid it but it takes effort. It would take more effort to not do it than to do it and it harms no one.
Archie had no argument for that. He still felt irrationally angry but even that was fading.
It was the being caught unawares aspect, he knew.
That he thought he had covered this conversation with Damaris and yet discovered that he had not.
He peered down into the stalls, where the general ticket holders sat.
None of them stared back up at him with eyes brimming with lust, so he was reassured that part of Damaris’s claim held.
Fine, he said reluctantly. Unspoken was the acknowledgment that both of them wanted Damaris to rebuild his powers up as quickly as possible, so Archie would have to get over his qualms on his one.
I can shield you from the sensation, offered Damaris. He did something, presumably magic, and Archie’s body felt less like an oddly-stuffed toy.
Another song started, and Archie realized he’d missed some crucial reveal. He sighed. At least it was a good excuse to come back and rewatch it. This was the finale now, and he settled back to watch.
“I am most aggrieved to concede the point this time,” said Miss Georgia as soon as it was over and the standing ovation had died down. She was smiling though, so Archie didn’t take it to heart.
“It was a point well made. You had convinced me up until the hidden alchemy scene,” said Archie graciously. “And in any case, I enjoyed the conversation itself regardless of the outcome.”
“Yes! The most fun part is the speculating, to the point that I scarcely need to know the real story by the end,” Georgia agreed. “Though I could not have foreseen the poisoned cup changing the reveal.”
The others added their opinions, most of the party agreeing that it was a delightful new production. Archie mentioned that he might see it again to see the foreshadowing now he knew where it lay, and Georgia clapped her hands. “Oh, me too! We could attend together if you are free.”
Archie had a moment of stunned triumph. This whole thing had been to appease his mother, to be witnessed in the company of women, but he hadn’t even been trying and this had gone so much better than any of his previous attempts.
That, and Georgia was pleasant and witty, and though Archie still didn’t hold any attraction for her, he could at least enjoy her presence. That had to count for something, right?
And then she added, “I must see it again soon before I leave, for it’ll surely be gone by the time I come back.”
“You’re leaving? Where to?” asked Archie, wrestling his face into politeness before it could give away both the highs and lows his emotions had gone through in two mere heartbeats.
“The continent! My aunt is accompanying me and we are running away,” said Georgia, though she was smiling. “I fear I am becoming the age where my parents are concerned at the lack of offers for my hand now, and drastic measures will soon be taken. And so, I must take them first.”
Something must have shown on his face, because she frowned. “You shan’t snitch, will you?”
“No, no, of course not,” Archie said hastily, before adding, “Who would I even tell? I just think it’s…” He paused. “Admirable.”
He’d surprised her, judging by the little ‘o’ her mouth dropped into, and himself too, but it felt right. He wondered if she was in the same predicament he was in, but he didn’t know her well enough to ask. “I wish I could too.”
Georgia’s face softened in understanding, and she patted his hand. “Well if you ever find yourself out there, you must send word and I will show you around.”
“Thank you,” said Archie, relieved. “And if you can make time next week, I would still like to come to the theater again.”
Georgia agreed warmly before they departed as unlikely friends. It was strange, to head home both disappointed and yet with a warmth of having found someone who understood him.
It occurred to Archie as he waited for a carriage to take him home that he had never thought to simply run away, to leave all of this behind.
And how could he? He was a gentleman at heart – he had no useful skills in trade or knowledge of business, no ability to make his own way in the world without the crutch of his father’s estate.
There was no war for him to take up an officer’s position and prove himself at in battle.
And yet, said a little voice in his mind, Georgia as a noblewoman likely had even fewer options and she was finding a way to manage.
Who are you talking to? asked Damaris, intruding in on his thoughts. I do not sense another demon.
Archie jumped. He’d forgotten to pull his defenses up again. Just myself.
In the carriage, Archie tried to think through what he needed if he were to disappear on the Continent.
He’d heard rumors of it happening: people who had indulged in affairs and had run away to another country where no one would know that they and their lover were not married, or people who brought shame to the family name and were never seen again.
Money was the biggest obstacle; no matter how many letters Ollie wrote about the measures the estate had to take to get through the next harvest or wet season, Archie had never had to worry about the clothes he wore or where his next meal was coming from.
He’d never had to consider walking back to the palace instead of hailing a cab.
And now he had Damaris, and Damaris was capable of influencing people with his magic.
If he could convince a whole court that he’d been an established member for three whole years then surely he could charm people into thinking that Archie was meant to be at this hotel or this restaurant or had already paid for this set of new clothes.
The moment this occurred to Archie, it was as if a whole new world of possibilities opened up to him.
He really could drop everything and travel abroad with the help of a demon.
And in that same moment, Archie immediately cut off that thread of thought.
Even from experiencing that one heady rush of corruption, he knew he could never do it.
This was exactly why mages were under supervision, why their demonic deals were closely monitored, why the temples preached against demonic possession.
He’d already been discovered by Ixthan so quickly, if he and Damaris weren’t careful, they would be hunted down immediately.
He had what he wanted already. A lover – if an unconventional one – who was devoted to him.
Archie pressed the heel of his palm against his chest. It seemed ridiculous for his heartbeat to be thudding so fast just from some panicked thoughts when they weren’t in danger of being reported, and he willed himself to calm down.
There was no remark from Damaris, which was odd given he was usually attuned to anything unusual happening inside Archie’s body.
Damaris? asked Archie, before realizing he wasn’t there, not simply silent. He sighed.
I wish you’d tell me before disappearing. He wasn’t sure if thinking something more loudly meant that Damaris would be able to hear him, and resolved to say it again when he could be certain.
It was only because Archie was so focused on the space between his ears that he noticed the ache come on so quickly.
It felt like one of those things his mother described as a tension headache, where everything in his mind felt stretched taut like a scrape of butter over too much bread.
Suddenly, a snap left Archie reeling, a sudden lash of agony as if he’d been cracked with a whip.
Damaris was back, a heavy mass of swirling shadow and magic in his mind, and his matching pain bled into Archie’s own thoughts.
Archie clutched at his head with a cut-off cry. Damaris!
The pain receded, Damaris deftly sifting through their co-joined thoughts and sorting out which belonged to whom.
“Milord, is everything all right?” asked the hansom cab driver, muffled through the walls as he knocked on the roof.
“Yes, yes, I just stubbed my toe in the dark,” Archie called up hastily. It was strange to know that the pain was magical, not a real wound. It didn’t feel any less real, even after the hurt subsided. Damaris? What was that?
Damaris sounded peevish. My magic is not as recovered as I thought. When I tried to manifest as Damian, I remained tethered to your body. The further I went, the less substance I could maintain, and once I reached a certain distance, I could not get any further.
Isn’t that what possession means? asked Archie, stretching himself with a groan. Now that the fright was over, he had to try and convince his tense neck and hunched back that the danger was done, unpeeling himself to lean back into the carriage seat.
A silence. Archie detected a waft of surprise, as if it hadn’t occurred to the demon that in making a deal for Archie to be bound to him, he was in turn bound to Archie.
I take it you hadn’t previously known a limit to the distance you can manifest away from me?
asked Archie, thinking back. As far as he was aware, Damian had only tried to appear inside the palace, and as big as it was, that distance was still confined to one building.
Perhaps they would be able to be further apart once Damaris recovered more of his magic, or became more proficient at manifesting a solid body. That was certainly one thing to test.