19. Syrus
Syrus
“You know, this stuff isn’t half bad,” Asterim says, helping herself to another spoonful of stew at the table in our guest quarters.
Viz wrinkles his nose, poking halfheartedly at a roll. “It’s horrible. Everything here tastes so bland and…sunny.”
The ephilium might be keeping us in the Seraph Seat building—something about friends being close and enemies closer, no doubt—but at least they haven’t insisted we eat every meal with them.
Frankly, I think the ephilium are as pleased with this arrangement as I am.
They might be willing to discuss peace, but that doesn’t mean anyone here wants to break bread with a demon lord.
And for us, we get long stretches of time to make plans privately.
“Don’t be dramatic, Viz,” Aster rolls her eyes. “You can’t taste sunshine.”
Viz sniffs. “Maybe you can’t because you’ve killed all your tastebuds with alcohol over the last three centuries, but I definitely can.”
She sticks her tongue out at him. It’s bright red from the ephilium wine she’s been drinking.
“Ugh. I rest my case,” Viz says.
“You’re both right,” I say from my position over by the window. “The food is a bit bland, but it’s perfectly palatable.”
“Our diplomacy cover story has gone to your head,” Viz tuts.
“You should be so lucky,” I toss back, checking the clock over the ostentatious fireplace. It’s later than I expected, and I straighten up.
“Are you both ready?” I ask, more abruptly than I’d intended. “I told her to fly in at one o’clock precisely.”
Aster’s lips twitch. “He’s nervous,” she whispers to Viz.
“Why would I be nervous?” I say, flicking a bit of lint off my sleeve, the picture of nonchalance.
“Well, firstly because we have to smuggle Leah in past the guard posted outside our door,” Aster says, polishing off the last of her stew.
“But mostly because you’re finally going to be able to have a face-to-face conversation with her.
” She rises from the table, neatly dropping her napkin in her seat. “It’s making you antsy.”
“Nonsense,” I say. “I don’t get antsy.”
“Please, darling, you’re an entire writhing colony of antsy-ness. Now,” it’s her turn to glance at the clock. “I think that’s my cue.”
Our strategy for getting Leah in and out of our quarters unnoticed relies on Aster’s unique power. If she does it right, she can send people to sleep and have them wake up again without ever realizing they’ve been unconscious.
“Time to go talk to Officer Alorin about his impressive wingspan,” she says, adjusting the neckline of the tight dress she’s wearing. “He loved it yesterday.”
“I still don’t think it’s wise to draw attention by flirting with an ephilium guard,” Viz grumbles.
He’s been grouchy ever since checking in with Quill in Infernum yesterday.
All’s fine there, but opening a rift between here and the demon realm has proven uncomfortably tricky, so he decided to go via Strata.
Viz has no great love for the human realm.
“The key is to flirt with all of them,” Aster says slyly. “Then they don’t bother taking any notice. Plus, it makes my magic go smoother if they’re a little more comfortable around me.”
I don’t think that’s the only reason Aster’s been busy charming the armor off everyone here, but it’s certainly working in our favor now.
No one will think it’s at all suspicious if they see her cozying up to the guard posted outside.
Honestly, I’m surprised the ephilium didn’t put more guards on our rooms, but the Seraph Seat itself has the heaviest security in the city, and they probably thought I’d take offense if there was too much visible evidence of how little they trust me.
This is meant to be a diplomatic visit, after all.
Aster disappears out into the corridor. I can hear the low voice of our guard and a high laugh from her which makes Viz roll his eyes.
Then it goes quiet. There’s the telltale sound of a window opening and closing, and footsteps.
I’ve been pacing, anxious, but I stop when Leah walks through the door.
Because damn it, Aster is right, I’ve been desperate for the chance to look her in the eye without fear of putting her in danger.
And now that chance has come, I want to make the most of it, even if it makes my heart stutter in embarrassing ways.
She looks good. She always did, but growing into her power has practically made her glow.
And her wings…I don’t think I’ll ever get used to them.
I never thought she was lacking anything when we were in Infernum together, but now that they’re here, they look so right on her, their uniqueness totally fitting.
I watch her take in our guest quarters—plush lodgings with gold-rimmed furniture, soft cream couches, and gauzy curtains by the windows. We’re in the communal area, but the doors to our individual bedrooms are open.
“Well, I made it,” she says quietly.
“I see that,” I say in return. Unfathomably, a faint flush of pink rises to her cheeks.
It’s distractingly wonderful, and I force myself to look away.
Taking the opportunity to drink her in is all well and good, but it’s too tempting.
I want desperately to go to her—touch her, run my thumb over the spot where that pink becomes the backdrop to a sprinkling of freckles. But I can’t.
Luckily, Aster ducks back into our quarters and interrupts before I can make a fool of myself.
“All done. Alorin and I had a lovely chat about feather care, and he’s none the wiser.
I said I’d bring him some wine in a bit—that can be our cover to get you out of here.
Now, let me say a proper hello.” She drags Leah into a hug, and a spark of envy lights inside me, watching Aster touch her so casually.
“It’s perfectly wonderful to see you, darling. And those wings? So chic.”
Leah’s smile is wide and genuine. “Thanks. I grew them myself. But I can’t believe you came all the way to Aradis for me!”
Aster waves a hand airily. “Please, as if I’d let these two have all the fun.”
“Fun is hardly what we’re having here,” Viz grumbles again as he hovers by the table. “We did just have to sneak you in past an armed guard.”
“Exactly, my dear,” Aster says as she winks at Leah. “Sneaking around can be a lot of fun if you have the right attitude.”
Leah laughs. “Oh, I’ve missed you, Aster.”
“Likewise, darling. The castle’s a touch empty these days without you.”
Leah pulls a face, as if she doesn’t like to think about Infernum at all, and changes the subject by turning to Viz.
“I missed you and all your sensibleness too, Viz,” she says, surprising my chamberlain by hugging him as well. He stiffens, but then tentatively pats her back with his long, bony fingers.
“Good to see you in one piece, mire rat,” he says, surprisingly gently.
Which leaves the only person she hasn’t formally greeted, though I suppose we haven’t truly been apart these last few months. Still, there’s a pregnant moment when we both watch each other from across the room, and it feels like the few feet between us could be a thousand miles.
I clear my throat, taking command before the silence becomes unbearable.
“Let’s get down to business. The more time you spend here, the more we risk being found out.
Which would be a shame, given that we came in the first place to keep you alive since—” I give her a heavy look, “—you’ve decided to stay in Aradis no matter how likely it is to kill you. ”
My words have the desired effect. She rolls her eyes, and a sharp reply comes my way. “Sure, because it’s not like I was ever almost killed in Strata or Infernum either. Oh wait.”
Good, this sniping is much easier to handle than us staring woundedly at each other.
“Yes, and I bailed you out then too,” I say, playing my role. “It’s becoming a bad habit for both of us. But let’s do it just one more time. Viz?” I turn to my chamberlain. “Will you break things down for us?”
Leah gives me an unimpressed look but goes to take a seat in a chair at the table.
“All right,” Viz says, dropping a stack of papers in front of her. “Here’s our main issue: we need to invert the spell the sorcerers performed. But to do that, we need a detailed knowledge of the runes they used. And unfortunately for us, our one link to those human-sacrifice hobbyists is dead.”
“Hathwell,” Leah says on a shaky exhale. She whips her head around to me, and I read her expression easily. The implications of her killing Reed—and me encouraging her to kill him—are hitting her hard.
“You didn’t have a choice,” I remind her. “He was trying to kill you. Again, might I add.”
“Except now I’ve screwed myself,” she says dropping her head into her hands.
“Probably. But not completely,” Viz replies, no doubt thinking he’s being very reassuring. “Thanks to my research, I have some idea of the general shape of the spell. But it will take some trial and error for us to get it exactly right. Which is why we needed to meet with you in person.”
Leah lifts her head, a calculating look in her eyes. “Would it help if I actually remembered some of the runes they put on me?”
Viz’s toothy smile makes an appearance. “Do you?”
She shrugs. “Maybe if you showed me some options, I could pick them out. That night was…memorable. Being painted with your own blood isn’t something you easily forget.
And yeah, at the time they were just random shapes to me, but I can read Cyrax now, so it’s probably even more likely something will ring a bell if I look at them now. ”
“You can read it?” Viz repeats with interest. “Is that how you created the rift out of Infernum?”
For Viz, it’s a perfectly innocuous question—a matter of intellectual curiosity—but it falls on the room like a leaden weight.
Leah refuses to meet my eye.
“Of course,” she says in flawless Cyrax. “I speak it, so reading it should be easy, right?”
Viz shakes his head. “Not everyone who speaks Cyrax can read it too. A lot of the mireborn don’t bother to learn.”