34. Leah #2
“So the spell the sorcerers used left me with some pretty incriminating demon traits,” I say, trying to give the general shape of things without getting too into the possession element.
I told her that Syrus possessed me to rescue me from the sorcerers, but I’ve downplayed the frequency with which he kept possessing me after that.
I think Filippa can stomach most things, but I don’t think she’ll understand that I came to want Syrus in my mind and body.
She’ll assume I was being controlled by him all this time.
“It made my wings black, obviously. It also gave me some demonic powers. When Syrus realized I would probably be killed once the oracle discovered that, he came to Aradis to try to break the spell.”
I can practically see Filippa chewing this all over. It takes her a few minutes. The truth is pretty grisly.
“So really he was doing you a favor?” she says weakly, perhaps too overwhelmed to pick at any other aspect of my story.
“Yep,” I say. “And it was a very risky move for him. It never even would have occurred to me to ask him to come, knowing how much danger it would put him in. When he turned up at that ball, I was as surprised as the rest of you.”
“Nice of him,” Filippa says, bemused, and I choke back a laugh.
“Yeah.”
“So you and he—”
“Yep,” I reply, popping the p.
She exhales, rubbing a hand across her head. “I can’t believe I was pushing you at Rowan Gradis. Now I see that he’s definitely not your type.”
“Rowan was fine…” I say, not wanting to think too much about the ephilium man whose family must be in turmoil right now.
She waves away the comment. “Never mind about that. Did it work?” she asks. “Breaking the spell, I mean.”
I focus and pull my wings out of the space between light, unvanishing them. “Unfortunately, no. These are still black. On the plus side, I can hide them if I want. It’s a demon thing.”
She looks at the dark feathers like she’s seeing them for the first time.
“So…are you going to hate me now, for having demon friends?” I ask quietly.
She pulls her sleeves down over her hands in a nervous tic, and I notice now that the shirt she’s wearing—made of plain, soft fabric—is far too big for her. It must be one of Hodges’s.
“I’ve never thought very highly of the war,” she says.
“It always seemed like a waste of resources to me. And it didn’t seem like Infernum was doing anything terrible to us that we weren’t doing to them.
Even if one of them tried to kill me, it’s not like I spent my time on the battlefield picking daisies, either.
It was kill or be killed, and our side is as much to blame for that as theirs.
” Her hand goes to her stomach again as she shrugs.
“So no, I don’t really hate demons, and I definitely don’t hate you. ”
I grin in relief, relaxing a little more. “Do you hate Hodges yet? Honestly, I’m impressed you guys have managed to survive in such close quarters these past two weeks without killing each other.”
“I mean, he has really weird taste in breakfast foods, and he snores like a drunk pig, but otherwise he’s not so bad.” A smile briefly lights up her whole face before quickly disappearing again. “Anyway, it’s not like I’m a dog he never lets out of the house.”
I raise my eyebrows. “What about…” Now it’s my turn to gesture to her wings.
“Oh, he made me a thing.” She rises to go into the bedroom and emerges with something made of soft brown leather—a series of straps and buckles forming a harness.
“It helps strap my wings down so I can wear a cloak, and it doesn’t look bulky.
It’s a little uncomfortable, but it’s worth it to be able to go out and not be noticed.
Hodges said it wasn’t fair to keep me cooped up for weeks on end.
And he’s making adjustments, says he thinks he can get it so it doesn’t cut into my carpal so much. ”
“Nice of him,” I say, echoing the words and tone she used a few minutes ago about Syrus. I have a theory brewing, which takes a little more shape when Filippa’s complexion darkens ever so slightly.
“Yes, well, he’s very handy,” she says, and I laugh.
“What?” she demands.
“Nothing. He’s great. It’s why I picked him as a scavenging partner.”
She nods. “He told me about that. We talked a lot about you, actually.”
I groan. “So he’s given you all the dirt, has he?”
“Nothing too bad. Although we did get into an argument when he insisted—”
Heavy steps on the stairs cut her short as the door handle turns and Hodges’s voice floats into the room.
“Hey, Pip, I got those pastries you like. The ones with the—Polaris!”
He stops short when he sees me, tucking the bakery box under one arm and looking a mix of pleased and sheepish.
“Hi, Hodges,” I say, grinning. “I was just checking in with Pip here.”
Filippa clears her throat in a way that tells me I’m definitely not allowed to call her that.
Hodges just smiles and shakes his head, putting the bakery box down and pulling me into a hug when I stand up to greet him properly.
“Good to see you again. Pip’s filled me in on the mess back in Aradis. Are you in trouble? Is that why you’re back in Strata?”
“Yes, kind of. It’s complicated.” I shrug.
He rolls his eyes and shares a look with Filippa.
“When is it not with you?” He grins at my cousin, easy and joyful, and she returns the smile, if a little more cautiously.
“Hey, no ganging up on me,” I protest.
“All right then,” Filippa says, that open, hopeful expression wiped from her face. “Why don’t you tell Hodges about who you’re staying with in Pax?”
I narrow my eyes at her, but if she can accept the truth, Hodges probably can too.
“Okay,” I sigh. I’m just scrounging up the energy to run through the whole story again when I hear a familiar pealing sound. It’s the bells at the wall, announcing to the city that a battle has broken out and they’re closing the gates.
Filippa looks to Hodges, her gaze drawn to him like a magnet. He’s already crossing to his bedroom and grabbing his satchel with his scavenging gear in it.
“About time,” he mutters, glancing at me. “There’s not been anything for a few weeks. Pip says she reckons it’s because of the attack on the…the seraphim, was it?”
She nods, turning to me to explain. “They’ll have wanted to focus on shoring up domestic security after the coup,” she says. “Though I don’t know why Infernum’s been quiet.”
I know. It’s because the lords have been dealing with one of their number going rogue. I haven’t explained to Filippa about them coming after Syrus yet.
Filippa sighs. “Hodges, if you’d just trade the rest of my armor like I told you to—”
“We’re not going over that again, Pip,” he says firmly, before his expression turns apologetic. “But I’m sorry I’ve got to go.”
“Yes, I know you are,” she replies quietly. They’ve clearly had several conversations like this before. I’m pretty sure they’re communicating whole speeches to each other in looks I don’t know how to read.
“I’ll come with you,” I say, and Filippa’s head jerks up.
Hodges just shrugs. “Why? I wouldn’t think you needed the strats anymore.”
“I don’t,” I say. “But I can help you get a good haul. You can hit the plains just as the rifts are closing, and I’ll make sure you stay safe.”
He hesitates, unsure.
“Let me do this,” I say. “I’ve got all this power and strength now,” I gesture to my wings. “What’s the point of it if I can’t use it to help my friends?”
I’ll stop short of scavenging myself. I don’t think I can ever go back to my former detached approach to the people who die on the plains, but I can at least make sure Hodges doesn’t get caught in the crossfire.
I owe him much more than that for looking after Filippa all this time.
Even if I’m starting to think he rather enjoyed it.
“All right,” he says, and Filippa stands up abruptly.
“If she can go, then so can I,” she says, bristling.
“Pip, you’ve only just healed,” Hodges says, uncharacteristically stern again. “Don’t you think—”
He cuts himself off when Filippa gives him a withering stare. “Okay,” he says, holding his hands up. Then he glares at me.
“This is your fault,” he mutters to me as Filippa pulls on her harness and cloak.
I gape at him, trying not to be offended that Hodges is clearly far more worried about Filippa’s safety than mine. But then, he’s seen me scavenging. Facing danger together is all we’ve known. By contrast, the last time Filippa was near the battlefield, she was delivered to him limp and wounded.
“Shut up, Hodges,” I say and vanish my wings. When he startles at the sudden change, I feel a little spark of petty satisfaction run through me.
“One of my party tricks,” I say, winking at him as we leave his house and make for the edge of the city.
The city walls are unchanged, still dotted with crumbling stone and strings of ropes left by scavengers. I stay below my cousin, who despite her ephilium strength isn’t an experienced climber, making sure she doesn’t slip. Hodges climbs slowly above her, offering his hand to steady her as needed.
“Where was all this chivalry when we were working together?” I murmur to him when we’ve all safely reached the top.
He lifts his eyebrows. “I can think of exactly the four-letter words you’d use if I’d offered to help you back then.”
Which is true, really, so I don’t have a good response.
“What do we do now?” Filippa asks.
“Now we wait,” Hodges says. “And keep an eye out for anything hitting the ground that might be particularly valuable.”
I glance at Filippa, expecting her to find this morbid, but she’s watching the battle with an analytical stare.
“Is it always like this?” she asks after a few minutes. “I mean, I’ve only seen the Brigade in action once before, but that time, it didn’t seem so…intense.”