18. Silas
Silas
To fool the clever, give them a truth so large it fills their mouth. They’ll never taste the lie folded underneath it.
Icouldn’t concentrate.
Lore was saying something important, probably. Her voice had that edge it got when she was trying to talk me out of being reckless or pissed off. But all I could see was Syneca in that hallway. All I could feel was the echo of her anger through the bond.
I’d fucking bargained with her again.
A fool’s bargain, really. One word and she had to obey.
The kind of control that would make her hate me even more than she already did.
But lessons needed to be learned, and if this would force her to be more careful with her words in the Underworld, I’d keep the other end of that leash for as long as necessary.
Even if it meant watching fury burn in her eyes every time she looked at me.
Especially because of that fury.
Lore’s pacing pulled me back to the study. She was still talking. Something about risk. Variables.
I lost the thread again.
Because my witch had unlocked her power. I’d felt the explosion of fire, uncontrolled and fucking magnificent. Then the moment she’d pulled it inward and shielded it, I could have drowned in the sudden silence where chaos had been.
“—listening to me?” Lore’s voice cut through.
I blinked and focused on her face. “Yes.”
Her dark, narrowed eyes said she didn’t believe me as she spun away.
She shouldn’t. Because my mind was still in that hallway watching Syn in nothing but a towel and attitude. Watching her light me on fire out of spite while I stood there pretending her half-naked body didn’t affect me.
Such a beautiful distraction.
But I needed to focus.
I forced myself to be present.
Lore had paced back and forth across the worn rug like she could wear a hole through it if she just moved fast enough. Ramiel stood at the window. Perfectly still. Watching the street and planning our ambush. He’d always been strategic.
Dez sprawled in a chair. He looked relaxed, but his eyes tracked Lore as she went on about the plan. A flash of blue in the cabinet caught my attention as two sparkling buns poked out from behind poorly chosen cover.
Pip.
I didn’t call her out. Best to let her think she was succeeding. She’d learn more from practice than from me pointing out every flaw. Though that hair needed addressing. It was impossible to miss. I’d get her a cloak. Something enchanted to actually hide what needed hiding.
Later.
“This is a bad idea,” Lore continued.
Ramiel didn’t turn from the window. “We have a small opening before Evanoch retreats to his court. It’s now or never, regardless of risk.”
“There has to be another way.” Lore stopped pacing again. Her hand drifted toward the blade at her hip.
Dez had already argued this point to exhaustion, but still he went on. “There isn’t. Not without one of us committing to his court to gain access. And that’s not happening.”
“So instead, you walk into his manor and hope he doesn’t retaliate?” Lore turned to face me. “This is reckless even for you.”
I sat back in my chair. “It’s calculated.”
“It’s suicide.”
I smirked. “I’ve never been afraid of Evanoch. When did you start?”
She glared at me again. “When you brought a beacon of power to our doorstep and asked us to help protect her from him. Now we’re stealing his new favorite possession? Again, it’s suicide.”
“Only if we fail.” I met her eyes and held them until she looked away first. “And we won’t fail.”
“You can’t know that.”
“I know Evanoch. He’ll talk before he acts. That gives Ramiel time.”
Ramiel finally turned from the window. “I’ll change into one of his guards, walk through the front door like I belong there, find the charidryn, and walk him right out.”
She began pacing again. “And if Evanoch sees through the shift?”
Ramiel’s confidence wasn’t arrogance. It was certainty born from centuries of practice. “He won’t. Don’t act like you haven’t seen me do this.” He mouthed a word and his face changed. “Isn’t this your favorite look of mine? Or was it this one?” He shifted again.
Lore’s jaw worked. She wanted to argue. Wanted to find some flaw in the plan that would make us reconsider.
She wouldn’t find one. We’d already gone over every angle. This was the best option we had.
“If either of you die,” she said finally, “I’m going to be very annoyed.”
“Noted.” I headed for the door. “Dez, keep an eye on things here.”
“Always do.” But his usual levity was missing. He understood the stakes as well as the rest of us.
Ramiel followed me into the hall before calling back to Lore. “Didn’t know you cared about me so much, Lore. Let’s revisit this conversation later.”
“Fuck off, Ram,” she snarled back.
“I do so love it when you bite.”
The study door closed, and I heard Lore resume pacing immediately.
“Ready?” Ramiel asked.
I thought of Syneca. If this went wrong, she’d never forgive me. If it went right, she’d have Calder back. Either way, the risk was necessary.
“Let’s go.”
We stepped into Kiamond. The city hummed around us, demons haggling over goods that ranged from useful to lethal, grimmies darting around the melancholy gargoyles, music spilling from establishments that never closed.
Normal chaos. The kind that made excellent cover.
Ramiel’s face shifted mid-step and he grew into broader shoulders. A scarred, downturned face. He now looked like a demon who’d spent centuries following orders and had stopped questioning them generations ago.
Even his voice changed when he spoke. “You’re certain you want to be the distraction?”
“Evanoch wants me in his court. He’ll try to trap me, as he always does. That’s all the time you need.”
“And if he’s less patient than you expect?”
“Then improvise. I declined his last offer and it pissed him off.”
Ramiel’s mouth curved. Still his expression despite the unfamiliar face. “Just watch your words in there. He’s clever.”
“I’ve been doing this a long time.”
“So has he. Don’t underestimate him just because you’re smarter.”
“He has more to fear from me than I do from him.”
Ramiel gave me a look that might have been concern if he were capable of it. “Indeed he does.”
We split at Evanoch’s entrance.
The manor rose ahead, all black stone and windows that reflected nothing, like the building itself refused to acknowledge the world around it. Guards flanked the door, their attention sharp but not focused on us yet.
Ramiel moved toward them and nodded once. They didn’t question him. Didn’t even hesitate before one stepped aside to let him through.
Perfect.
I went to the front and cracked the knocker against the metal plate on the door.
The sound echoed louder than it should have but the door opened immediately.
A long-horned guard I didn’t recognize gestured me inside without speaking.
He led me through halls lined with tapestries depicting battles I’d heard about but never witnessed.
Demons tearing through mortal armies. Furies falling. Realms bending to the Underworld.
Evanoch’s version of history. Biased and brutal. The halls smelled like sulfur, or maybe decay smothered in perfume. It was the sole reason I loathed this manor. Whatever death Evanoch courted in his section of our realm, it was putrid.
My guide stopped at a door, knocked twice and opened it without waiting for a response. Evanoch sat at a table in what might have been a dining room. A blade lay in front of him. He picked it up as I entered, trailing his finger along the edge with deliberate slowness.
Blood welled. He healed instantly and did it again.
Cut. Heal. Cut. Heal.
The casual display of regeneration. The complete lack of concern about pain.
Message received.
“Silas. It’s been too long since you and I spoke alone.” He gestured to the chair across from him. “Sit. Please.”
I sat, keeping my hands visible on the table. Relaxed in a way I knew would infuriate him. He relished fear and I wouldn’t give him a drop of it. But he knew that and agreed to meet with me anyway. Even after I’d turned down his last offer and walked out.
He was watching for tells, searching for any weakness he could exploit. I gave him nothing but mild interest and boredom.
Evanoch continued, setting the knife down with a soft click against wood. “I was surprised when you requested a meeting. You’ve turned down my invitations for so long I’d begun to think you were allergic to my company.”
“Consider me curious.”
He lifted a brow. “That’s unlike you.”
“What brings you back to Kiamond after spending so long playing in your own world?”
His smile widened, pleased I’d acknowledged his absence, most likely. “I grow bored of chasing the Furies around that little realm.”
“All these years and you’ve only managed to kill one. That was you, of course, that killed the Fury tied to fate?” The question would bother him because the hunter had been responsible, and that small trace of satisfaction was worth the scowl on his face.
He leaned back, fingers steepled in a gesture I’d seen him make a thousand times.
Always the same tells, even after all these years as he ignored my question entirely.
“Tell me about the day you killed the Fury. Celeste, wasn’t it?
What did it feel like when she died? When your power took her life? ”
The lie came easily because I’d practiced it for centuries, refined it until even I almost believed it. “Satisfying. She fought well. Made it interesting.”
He leaned in. “Did she beg? When she whispered those words to you, was it a plea for mercy? A bargain?”
“No. She was too proud for that.”
Evanoch’s eyes gleamed with pleasure. “I’ve always admired that about the Furies. Their pride, even when it destroys them.” He picked up the knife again, trailing his finger along the edge. “We had a fool-proof plan. Someone interfered. You wouldn’t know anything about that though, would you?”