27. Leah #2
His hand stills for a moment, and I think he’s going to be angry, but I spot the way his mouth is pressed into a tight line as he tries not laugh.
“This isn’t funny!” I say, appalled.
He shakes his head, the smile cracking through. “It’s absolutely not,” he says, sounding sincere. “I’m just…Really? The stupidest plan you’ve ever heard? Because I can think of stupider things.”
“Nothing is stupider than leaving you behind in Aradis,” I say quietly. Because that’s it—the huge dermison in the room we’ve been avoiding. Syrus is physically barred from going to Strata, so if we can’t open a rift to Infernum, he’s trapped.
“I’ll be fine,” he says, throwing the bloody cloth aside now he’s done cleaning.
“It’s not like you’re abandoning a lost little kitten, Leah.
The ephilium won’t be able to catch up to me.
And even if they did, they’re not going to execute a demon lord on a peace mission without proof of his crimes. ”
My muscles tense, every part of me rejecting the idea of leaving Syrus to fend for himself in a realm full of people who probably want him dead.
Maybe it’s ridiculous to feel protective of a man with his level of power, his incredible strength and ability to heal, but I simply can’t imagine abandoning him to face this threat alone.
But I have to make him see that threat clearly if he’s going to listen to me.
“You really think so?” I ask skeptically. “After this coup, the seraphim might be pissed off enough to throw the whole Sola Morator thing out the window.”
“You’re the one who’s been living with the pale-bloods for months,” he says, far too casually for my liking as he starts measuring out bandages. “Do you think breaking a vow of honor is something they would do?”
“No,” I say automatically, then think of the way I’ve seen some ephilium bend, or completely break, the rules when it suited them. “Though, actually…Yes. Maybe. Garion must’ve broken twenty vows today, attacking the Seraph Seat.”
“But your grandfather is not the seraphim,” Syrus says, winding the cloth around Viz’s head.
The demon stirs again, and I see in Syrus’s eyes how much it comforts him to see these signs of consciousness returning.
“There’s a reason they’re this realm’s leaders.
They embody what Aradis is meant to be—strong, yes, but honorable too. ”
I sit with that for a moment, wondering where this generous view of the ephilium is coming from. Syrus has always talked about how arrogant they are, hating the way their culture glorifies war, yet it sounds like there’s a hint of respect there.
“There’s a lot of things the seraphs are meant to be,” I point out, testing his reaction. “I don’t know how much of it is true. I mean, everyone talks about their foresight, but how valuable is that second set of eyes if they didn’t see this coming?”
“Maybe they caught glimpses of it but not enough to tell exactly what direction the attack was going to come from,” he says, still concentrating on Viz.
“Or maybe they did know and made preparations we’re not aware of.
They seemed confident of their victory today.
Perhaps they sensed the threat and deliberately let it play out, so their enemies would be exposed.
Sometimes, the only way to deal with a viper is to draw it out of its nest.”
I shut my eyes, remembering the way Orelle let Garion get his hands around Orelle’s throat before killing him, and the expert way Wyvier dispatched Roryn…
Shit. Roryn. This will kill Rowan when he finds out.
Unless…did Rowan know about my grandfather’s plan? If Ghola didn’t, then I have hope my friend was also in the dark. I don’t hold any love for the seraphim, but it’s unsettling to think the person I always thought of as being open and sincere could be part of a conspiracy like this.
I push the thought aside. Rowan’s not what I need to focus on right now.
“Since when are you so reasonable about the ephilium?” I ask Syrus, nudging his thigh a little with my knee. “I thought you hated them.”
“I hate a lot of what they stand for,” he says simply, tying off Viz’s bandage.
“But I’ve had to live alongside them the last few weeks.
Without the distance between us, I’ve been forced to see there’s more to them than just their love of war.
The seraphim are having to deal with a lot—attacks from within, this blight of theirs—I can perhaps relate a little. ”
“Slow down,” I say teasingly. “Or I might start wondering if you’re the one with head injury.”
His red-brown eyes flick to mine. “Besides,” he continues. “Someone I care about very much happens to be part ephilium.”
It’s ridiculous considering I know very well Syrus has feelings for me, but this declaration still makes the heat climb into my cheeks.
He places a hand on my knee, his thumb rubbing a small circle through the fabric of my pants.
Then slowly—very slowly, giving me plenty of time to move away if I want to—he leans in.
The kiss is slow too, deliberate and sweet—a savoring touch to his tongue, a cherishing manner in the way he slides his hand along my jaw.
It feels like a goodbye.
When we break apart, I know he’s about to bring up our next steps again. Now that he’s finished patching up Viz, there’s no postponing it. Still, if he has his strategy for getting me to do what he wants, then I have mine.
I will do everything I can to help him, and I think I know where to start. Because he’s right. I’m part ephilium, and that means having powers at my disposal he’s never had access to before.
“Leah—” he says, but I get there first.
“You came to Aradis for me,” I say. “You crossed realms and broke all the rules and put your position as lord at risk, all because you thought I wasn’t safe.
I hope you know me well enough to realize that I would do the same, Syrus.
” I put a hand to his chest, the gesture pulling at his shirt a little, revealing bare skin where Ajax’s runes would usually sit.
“Yes, I left before, but I did it knowing you were safe and well. It’s different this time. ”
“How many times have I asked you to leave Aradis to protect yourself?” Syrus says, low and serious, his voice on the edge of frustration. “Won’t you please listen now—if not for me, then for Viz?”
I drop my hand. “Viz needs a healer who can properly stitch him up,” I agree. “And I don’t fancy life on the run. So no, I’m not staying in Aradis,” I say confidently, and I see a flicker of hope in his eyes. “You’re coming to Strata with us instead. I’m going to break Ajax’s spell.”
Syrus
I stare, startled at the firmness in her tone, and something painful happens in the region of my chest.
“Leah,” I say gently. “Don’t you think I’ve tried? I spent the first decade of my demon life trying to find a way to get around the binding Ajax put on me. There just isn’t one.”
I tense at the memory. I don’t like to revisit those first few, desperate years when I thought I could still claw my way back to Strata. “The fast healing isn’t just to make me stronger—the magic stops me from removing the runes.”
Her eyes widen. “You tried to take them off?”
I try to keep my shoulders from bowing inward. This conversation isn’t going to go anywhere I want to be, but I try to stay honest. Aster told me this—showing Leah who I really am—was the only way I might get to keep her.
“Cut them off. Burn them off. I even tried ephilium blood once.” I wince.
“That wasn’t pretty. But at least Ajax’s magic stops me getting new scars.
” Her eyes dart to my arm, where the cut Viz made earlier is now gone without a trace.
“The marks I got from before I became a demon remain, but when I pierce my skin now, it just knits back together, good as new, runes and all.”
She licks her lips, then swallows. It would be distracting and would make me want to kiss her again, if I couldn’t tell she was building up to something.
“Did you ever try ephilium magic?” she asks.
“No,” I say slowly, not letting my thoughts get ahead of themselves.
I don’t want to jump to any conclusions until I understand what she’s driving at.
“It’s not like I knew any ephilium I could ask—nor would I have trusted them, even if I did.
I stopped trying to get rid of the runes after a while.
I realized I should accept my fate and focus on doing what I was brought to Infernum to do. ”
“There’s a way to break a rune’s power with lightning,” she says evenly.
I tilt my head, trying to ignore the way my pulse speeds up a little at her words.
“I’ve heard that,” I say. For the most part, I was never close enough to supernatural battles when I was human to know the details, and then I was a demon and trapped in Infernum, far from the Stratan battlefields.
But I’ve read reports about Brigade soldiers who can rip through a shadow shield’s protections or undo a spell on a weapon.
“By all accounts, it’s not something the pale-bloods do very often. Too difficult for them.”
She nods. “Yes. We get training for it because it’s so useful when it works. But most don’t really understand runes enough to be very good at it. I am though, Syrus.” She says, straightening her back. “I’m very good at it.”
“Go on,” I say, the words betraying the tightness in my throat. It feels too dangerous to hope.
Her eyes brighten at my encouragement. “It’s because I understand Cyrax,” she says. “That lets me pick the runes apart in a way the ephilium can’t. Of course, they didn’t know that—they just thought I was a prodigy at it. It didn’t occur to me at the time, but…”
She stops short of saying it out loud, like she might sabotage it if she does.
But, she could maybe break the power of the runes Ajax used to lock me out of Strata.
I’m aware I’ve gone very still. She reaches both hands out to grip my shoulders.
“Syrus.”
“I’m all right,” I say. “Just thinking.”