Chapter 17 Des
Des
By early December, things felt almost normal in Wisteria, though it was a quiet he wasn’t sure he could trust. Yule was in
just a few weeks, and with it, Des’s promotion ceremony. Nothing changed at the Iron Fortress, but the city proper was festive,
with families strolling the streets to buy wooden toys, roasted chestnuts, or glass baubles from vendors’ carts. There were
no more day-walking demon sightings, Gareth had moved on to working with Jasper, and Daisy was training a new guard (a girl
far too timid for this line of work; Des didn’t give her more than a month before she was moved to clerical).
Most of Des’s days were spent training with the Iron Swords. He had thought himself in peak physical condition, but he quickly
learned that there was another level to him. What little fat he carried was whittled off his muscles. He was sore everywhere.
In the evenings, he studied all the available texts on verita, none of which were particularly helpful, since they were mostly witness statements and crude renderings. Des and his nine
squad-mates, all older and more experienced than him, were becoming a well-oiled machine, however. Shifts were clean and straightforward.
He’d never slept better in his life. Everything was going as it should.
And if every now and then he caught the scent of Aurelie’s soap, or he found himself remembering the way her braid swayed between her shoulder blades as she walked, or how green her eyes were up close, he quickly put her out of his head.
Daisy had never told him what her punishment was, and he’d never asked, though he no longer relished the thought of her languishing in a prison cell.
Perhaps her uncle had returned and spoken with Commander Yew on her behalf.
So long as she wasn’t causing trouble, he didn’t care what happened to her.
Des was in the armory cleaning his weapons one evening when Aspen, another of the Iron Swords, appeared in the doorway.
“Whitlow. Gear up. There’s been a verita sighting near the university.”
Des lowered his rag to his lap. “Any injuries?”
“Not yet. But the campus guard raised the alarm. Meet me at the front gate in five.”
It took Des less than three minutes to get fully suited in his armor and meet Aspen. He willed his racing pulse to slow down,
telling himself he was just excited because tonight he might finally have a chance to catch a verita alive.
“You seem tense,” Aspen said as they crossed the street toward the university’s iron gates.
She was almost as reserved as Des, only communicating when necessary, which meant she must be concerned about his behavior
if she was bringing it up. Des forced his shoulders to relax and took a few deep breaths. The dean had to be back by now.
It was well past dinnertime, and the lights were off at the cottage. Aurelie would be in bed, not creating demons, if she
were here at all.
“There you are,” the guard said, lifting his lantern up so that it shone directly in their eyes.
Des raised his hand to block out the glare. “Where’s the demon?”
“Still on campus, far as I know. I lost sight of it out near the cemetery.”
“Who else is on campus tonight?” Des asked, earning an arched eyebrow from Aspen.
“Just Miss Blake.” Des was beginning to grumble when the guard continued. “And one of her professors. Sheldrake, I think.
He’s been known to conjure the odd demon or two; by accident, of course. It’s been years, though.”
This was no accident. Des was going to murder Aurelie, if she wasn’t already dead. And then he was going to tell Daisy off
for clearly not handling the problem like she’d promised.
“What’s that?” Aspen asked, pointing to a light in a tall tower.
“Professor Sheldrake’s office. But like I said, the demon was near the—”
“Cemetery, got it.” Des stalked past the guard onto campus, wishing he’d seen it in daylight so he had a better sense of the
place.
“Where are we going?” Aspen asked.
“To the tower. I think we should question the people who conjured the demon and find out what we’re dealing with first.” It
wouldn’t get far with the iron gates surrounding the campus, and he didn’t want to give Aurelie a chance to cover her tracks.
Aspen nodded. They were quiet as they approached the old building housing the tower, which listed precariously to one side.
It should have been condemned years ago.
A popping sound split the silence, followed by a shout.
Without thinking, Des broke into a run . . .
And skidded to a stop the moment he reached the courtyard in front of the tower.
“My word,” a man said. “That was a bit more than I bargained for.”
“It was incredible, Professor Sheldrake. I’ve never seen anything like it!”
Des’s stomach did something strange. It was too dark to see anything, but he’d know that voice anywhere. It was bright and
confident, educated without coming across as stuck-up. Just so long as it wasn’t directed at him.
Aurelie had the audacity to laugh then, a sound he’d never heard before. It was, to his utter annoyance, adorable.
A moment later, a massive creature leapt on Aurelie. On its hind legs, it was nearly as tall as she was. Sure she was being
attacked, Des drew his sword and rushed forward into the courtyard.
Then, as if the entire universe was conspiring to humiliate him, the clouds shrouding the moon parted. Silver light bathed
the courtyard and everything in it: a little old man wearing thick spectacles, presumably the professor, and Aurelie, struggling
to push off the snarling beast . . .
Which was, in fact, an overgrown Wisterian hound. And it was licking Aurelie’s cheek.
Des’s sword arm dropped as the two turned to look at him and he became acutely aware of the cold sweat on his brow. Aspen
caught up to him just in time to see Aurelie and Professor Sheldrake standing side by side, the hound now seated beside them,
docile as could be.
“Who are you?” Professor Sheldrake asked, sounding more curious than alarmed.
Aurelie, clearly not planning to be of any use whatsoever, only folded her arms across her chest and cocked her head.
“We’re the Iron Guard,” Aspen responded, saving Des from further humiliation. “We were told a demon was spotted on campus.”
The professor and Aurelie exchanged a look and burst into laughter. “Who told you that?” the old man asked, wiping tears of
mirth from his eyes.
“The campus guard. Said it was near the cemetery.” Aspen stepped forward and leaned over to pat the hound on its broad head.
“Fine-looking specimen you have here. I haven’t seen one this size since I was a child.”
Des, finally gaining control of his faculties, gestured to the iron-spiked collar around its neck. “I imagine it comes in
handy for fighting demons as well.”
“Who, Alastor?” Professor Sheldrake shook his head. “He looks far fiercer than he is.”
“He’s a big softie, aren’t you, Alastor?” Aurelie kissed the top of the hound’s head, her eyes never leaving Des’s. He hadn’t
seen her in weeks, but it was clear she hadn’t spent any of that time in a prison cell. She was as vibrant as ever, cheeks
rosy, eyes sparkling. Nothing had changed for her, and he should be furious.
But he wasn’t. He wasn’t happy about it, but he wasn’t angry, either. The only emotion he could pinpoint was relief.
“So there’s no demon?” Aspen asked.
“Highly unlikely. We’re the only ones on campus, and I can assure you, we aren’t conjuring anything but a little smoke. The guard must have seen Alastor out for his nightly constitutional and become confused,” Professor Sheldrake explained.
Des was about to protest when Aspen nodded. “Glad to hear it. Sound the alarm should anything change. We won’t be far off
campus.”
Des, once again at a loss for words, could only nod and follow her.
“That was strange, wasn’t it?” Aspen asked when they were on the other side of the gate, seemingly unfazed by Des’s inane
behavior.
“She’s the dean’s niece,” he said, his voice gruffer than he’d intended. Aurelie was a science student. It wasn’t any of his business what experiments she conducted, just so long as she wasn’t inventing anything
new. Sheldrake seemed like the sort of bumbling professor who could accidentally conjure a demon, foreign as the idea was
to Des. And the dog was just a dog, albeit overgrown. He should be glad Aurelie had supervision of some sort while her uncle
was away.
Scratch that. He should be indifferent to all of it.
Des groaned and ran his hands through his hair, which was in dire need of a cut. It was so long he’d actually had to brush
it this morning, which annoyed him to no end.
“Everything okay?” Aspen asked.
“Fine. Just tired.”
Aspen, bless her, said nothing.
When they reached the barracks, they went their separate ways to shower and sleep.
Daisy, as usual, was waiting up for him, reading a book that she’d purchased from one of the Yule vendors.
It was ancient and missing half its pages, but that was all she could afford.
Unlike many of the other guards, she did have remaining family.
She sent most of her earnings to her cousin, who had three children of her own.
Des worried they were taking advantage of her and had started putting part of his own salary aside for her.
When she got out of here next year—and Des was confident she’d leave at eighteen, if only to be with family—she’d have something to show for it.
“Not tonight, Daisy,” he said as he collapsed on his bunk. Just a few hours ago he’d been feeling optimistic about his life.
Well, not optimistic. But close enough. Now he felt tired and out of sorts, and he wanted to close his eyes and not replay
the sound of Aurelie’s laugh in his mind.
“Of course tonight,” she said, settling down so her feet were next to his head.
“You stink,” he told her.
“So do you.”
He arched an eyebrow but said nothing.
“Heard you went to the university with Aspen.”
He sat up on his elbows. “When you say you ‘heard,’ what does that mean exactly?”
“Fine. I asked the duty officer where you were.”
He collapsed back again. “And?”
“And I was wondering if you saw our friend.”
Des sighed heavily. “She’s not our friend, Daisy. Which reminds me, why isn’t she in jail where she belongs? I thought you
were going to turn the sketch over to Commander Yew.”
Daisy at least had the decency to look chastened. “I was going to. But then I got a letter from her . . .”
“What letter?”
She sat up, pulled something out of her pocket, and dropped it in Des’s lap.
He stared down at a folded piece of ivory-colored parchment. “What is that?”
“I already told you what it is.”
“She actually wrote to you?”
Daisy nodded, looking mighty smug for someone with two short pigtails sticking off her head like turnip greens. “She wanted
to thank me for all my help last month. She has excellent penmanship.”
Des kept his hands at his sides, avoiding the paper that rested in his lap like a live grenade.
“Go on. Read it. She mentions you.” Daisy waggled her eyebrows as she said it.
He would never admit that he was curious. “Not sure why you think I care.”
Daisy sighed and snatched the paper out of his lap. “ ‘Dear Daisy.’ That’s right, she called me dear. Like I said. Friend.” She cleared her throat. “ ‘I wanted to thank you for your help during what was a rather difficult
week. I realize that someone of your rank and capability has far more important duties than escorting a university student
around the city, and it touched me deeply that you went through such an effort to keep me safe.’ ”
Des made a gagging sound. “Aciano’s beard, is she long-winded. I’ve never heard such a wordy—”
“I’m not finished. Ahem. ‘To be honest, I’ve never given much thought to the Iron Guard.
Living on campus as I do, we rarely see your work, and what encounters I’ve had have given me a rather different impression of your fellow guards.
Frankly, I expected them all to be of Lieutenant Whitlow’s character.
Imagine my delighted surprise, then, to meet someone as kind, intelligent, and thoughtful as yourself. ’ ”
Des reached for the paper. “She did not say that.”
Daisy managed to evade him and continued reading. “ ‘I understand that your work keeps you busy, but should you ever find
yourself with a few free hours on a Monday afternoon, please don’t hesitate to reach out. I would love to buy you a cup of
tea, or perhaps a hot chocolate, as thanks. Yours, Aurelie.’ ”
Daisy sighed and folded the note back up. “Isn’t that the most beautiful letter you’ve ever heard?”
“It’s a load of absolute bollocks.”
Daisy’s mouth opened in mock offense. “How dare you speak about my friend Aurelie that way! I’ve already asked for permission
to leave for a few hours on Monday evening to meet with her.”
Des was speechless. Well, nearly. “Daisy, you can’t be serious.”
“I am.”
“She wrote that entire letter to get to me. Even you must see that.”
Daisy was quiet, and for a moment, Des was afraid he’d gone too far. He was sure Aurelie did like Daisy. She was a thoroughly
likable person. But anyone could see that she was fishing to find out if Des was going to turn her in. She’d deliberately
insulted Des, knowing that Daisy would share it with him. Had she no shame at all?
“My, you certainly think highly of yourself,” Daisy said, punching him lightly on the shoulder. She was smiling, but there
was genuine hurt there, and Des hated that he’d caused it.
“I’m sorry, Daisy. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just clear that—”
“That what, Des? That no one like Aurelie could possibly want to be friends with someone like me?”
“Daisy.” He reached for her hand, but she was already climbing off his bunk.
“I suppose I’ll be able to ask her on Monday when we meet. If she can talk about anything other than you, of course.”
“Daisy, I didn’t mean it like that.”
She didn’t respond, but a moment later, he felt her settle back down next to him.
“I did see her tonight,” he said gently. He felt like he owed it to her, somehow. “I think she blew something up.”
“Aw,” Daisy said, patting his forehead. “See, you two are more alike than you want to admit.”
Des shoved his pillow over his face, hoping he might suffocate by morning.