Chapter Fifteen
THE LAST PART of this plan lay in the Allegreian temple, after Ceronzar’s agreement had been so easily secured.
One of the largest temples in the city, it was prominently located only one road back from the main market square, with its doors open to all folk at all times.
It was not one of the religious orders that preached austerity or abstaining from worldly pleasures so when Eric walked up, his footsteps echoed on marble steps.
“It’s almost as fancy as the palace,” Eric remarked as he passed through the ornately wrought gates and rang a tiny gold bell for a novice’s attention.
He hadn’t been inside this temple before and he remembered why almost as soon as he’d stepped over the hallowed threshold: Ix had stopped at the door.
Eric joined him back outside. “Anti-demon wards?”
“I don’t feel them.” Ix looked grim as he took that final step into the temple with no trouble. Eric had never been in the Allegreian temple because the wards kept Ix out. If the wards didn’t detect his demonic blood, then Ix truly was completely human right now.
Any other time, Eric might have been interested in seeing more of the temple grounds.
Columns soared over their heads, melding into arches that created a vaulted ceiling, each decorated with exquisitely carved vines, flowers and animals.
Tapestries draped across the wall depicted Allegra’s story, which Eric remembered vaguely from his religion studies.
Something to do with being birthed from a rose to seduce some other god and then cause the downfall of some king, or some such.
He could have paid more attention to religion.
But seeing Ix with a scowl leeched all that interest away from him. Ixthan had never looked so annoyed at not being denied access before. As they waited inside the entrance for someone to find Brother Ramsay, Eric lowered his voice to distract him.
“You could have told me about the manor. What’s your intention? Will you buy it?”
“I came up with the idea in the moment. No buying. That’s in the Accords,” Ix reminded him.
Eric had forgotten that part of the Accords, the treaty with the demon queens that dictated that he and Ceron wasn’t allowed to own any land.
Surely one single manor didn’t count as owning land.
“But if I rent the manor from you, that doesn’t count. ”
Eric sighed. “Your reliance on loopholes is going to get you into trouble sooner or later. And I’m going to get dragged into it with you.”
“As if you wouldn’t simply follow me, no dragging required,” said Ix with a sneer. Eric breathed in and back out. He was not going to let himself be goaded like that. He was not. It was just that the stained glass windows were exquisite craftsmanship and he was going to admire them for a bit.
Ramsay found them like that, Ix smirking and Eric studiously admiring the windows. He looked surprised to see them, but agreed to hear them out easily enough. And then glanced at Ix again. “My apologies, the Novice Brother didn’t mention that you were here, Your Highness.”
“I didn’t break your wards,” said Ix, somewhat testily.
“I did not mean to imply that you had,” said Ramsay hastily, with a deep bow.
Eric kept his face blank, because he had the good training to do so; Ix had received the same courtly training and chose to ignore it by raising an eyebrow rather obviously.
Priests weren’t required to bow to royalty the same way as non-clergymen did.
It meant something that Ramsay had done it, Eric just couldn’t figure out what.
“Somewhere private, if you please,” said Eric when Ramsay made to sit on the pews.
“Oh, of course. Let me just think… Will a study do? I’m sorry, our accommodations are mostly communal. The only room suitable for visitors is the High Priest’s office,” said Ramsay apologetically. He took them down a corridor and opened several doors before finding a room not already occupied.
Studies in temples were only was meant for study, Eric discovered.
The only thing inside was a desk and a bookshelf, although the corner had a cushion placed on the floor.
For emergency prayers, he supposed. Ramsay insisted that Ix took the only chair, so Eric perched himself on the edge of the desk.
He wasn’t meant to, judging by the look Ramsay gave him, but Eric ignored it. He was picking up bad habits from Ix.
Ramsay himself stood. “What is it I can do for you, Your Highness?”
“It was Eric who said you might be able to help,” said Ix, before explaining the situation.
After hearing them out, Ramsay smiled tightly. “You wish to open a way to the demon realms? Your Highness, forgive me but this sounds highly unlawful.”
Ix corrected him. “It is illegal to summon a demon. Otherwise, the law is…” He shrugged. “Ambiguous.”
That, Eric hadn’t actually known. He’d just assumed that Ix had thought he could get away with it, being the King’s son and all. It felt like something that ought to be illegal.
Eric had been watching Ramsay. The priest hadn’t seemed offended or angry at the idea, in the same way that the Magisterium mages would definitely have been.
Instead, he was fidgeting, worrying at the hem that draped over his wrists and twisting the ring on his middle finger. Nervous. At what, Eric wondered.
“I suppose… I suppose it does benefit the Temple to make sure such a delicate piece of magic is performed well,” Ramsay said slowly.
Eric waited, let Ramsay talk himself into acceptance.
“And we certainly want to mitigate any possibility Your Highness is in danger. And from what you have said, nothing in this interferes with my duties, as far as I can tell.”
“Precisely,” said Ix airily. “You may decline, I shan’t force you. But we will do this with or without you.”
“In that case, it would be safer for me to be there than to not,” Ramsay agreed reluctantly.
It didn’t take long to arrange after that.
Ramsay went to inform someone that he would be away for a while, and came back dressed in a simple jerkin and armed with a sword.
It didn’t look ornamental either, it was wider than Eric’s rapier and Ramsay moved as though he was familiar with having a weight at the hip.
He looked amused at Eric’s look, the first time Eric had seen anything other than awkward discomfort on the man’s face.
“Did you think we fought demons dressed in robes, milord?”
“Somewhat,” Eric admitted sheepishly.
They ended up traipsing back to Ceronzar’s rooms above the tavern again; Ceron refused to step foot in the palace and honestly Ix didn’t want him there anyway.
“Who’s this?” Ceron wasn’t wearing a shirt again, though he had at least bothered with breeches this time. Then again, putting a shirt on around those wings of his seemed very cumbersome.
“Prince Ceronzar, may I present Brother Ramsay of the Allegreian Temple,” said Eric, the only person in the room who seemed to care about proper introductions and social etiquette. “He has kindly agreed to oversee the ritual.”
That was much nicer than saying that Ramsay was going to keep an eye on the magic that neither Eric nor Ix would be able to see and tell Ceronzar when he was doing it wrong.
“Your Highness.” Ramsay bowed.
“A shame, I thought you’d brought him as my first snack.” Ceron sneered, looking him up and down. Ramsay’s face was perfectly polite. Thank the gods Eric had remembered to warn him about Ceron’s tendency to provoke on the carriage ride over.
The next part felt oddly familiar, Eric watching as Ix traced out symbols in chalk over the mirror they had painstakingly lugged over and up all the stairs.
(Ceron had a mirror, Eric had protested, but Ix’s mirror was apparently better, bigger, with fewer flaws in the glass.) This time, Ix explained what he was doing, how each symbol helped shape the magic, pulling it all together like a spell.
Ramsay nodded along with occasional questions; Ceronzar looked bored but Eric still caught him looking intently at the symbols.
Much of the discussion went over Eric’s head.
Why was he here anyway? He was an outsider looking in for matters of magic; he had nothing of use to contribute to this, aside from his family manor being used to entice Ceron into behaving.
He’d rarely seen Ix discuss magic with anyone before, his usual disinterested look giving way to a gleaming glint in his eye.
If Eric had showed more interest in magic, would he have found himself on the receiving end of that look? It was hard to say.
Eventually, Ix was done with the demonstration.
He wiped the mirror clean and joined Eric on the sofa.
His face didn’t betray any feelings, but Eric could sense the tension coiled in his body.
He watched intently as Ceron drew the runes on the mirror, with a look Eric had never seen before.
His eyes flickered keenly between Ramsay, holding Ix’s notes, and pointing at something invisible in the air, and Ceron, who made some adjustment with a huff and a swipe of his fingers.
Eric realized suddenly that it was nervousness.
He’d honestly never seen Ix nervous like this before, he wasn’t entirely sure demons were capable of it.
It was only because they were in such a strange situation – in a brothel, in the company of both demon princes, about to do something that definitely should be illegal and only wasn’t technically breaking the law because no one had thought of making a law about it – that Eric let himself unbend a little.
He put his hand on Ix’s knee and squeezed gently.