Chapter 6
“We’ve looked everywhere,” Athira said.
Carmine was in the hangar of demon gates.
My circle of ghosts was in place. This time, I couldn’t fail to notice three past kings were present.
Their presence had killed the cheeriness of the other ghosts, well and truly.
I was almost certain that one of the past kings was Uryrth—the very first demon king—but he was so stooped over that I couldn’t see his whole face.
I focused on Athira. “Like where?”
“Like in sheaths and cupboards and behind furniture.”
“You had two children, Athira. Did they ever hide things there?”
Her face blanked. “I don’t know. They were with servants.”
I blew out a breath. “You never spent time with your young children?”
“Better that my mate believe that I had no particular bond with them. Especially Carmine.”
I could see the logic in that. I would do the same to convince Carmine to keep Adeuto alive until sixteen, during which time I would have figured out how to kill him.
I rubbed my face. “I want to get out there and look too. Not a great idea after my dungeon visit.”
“Learn anything?”
I’d already decided to let Athira all the way in. “Know anything about a demon named Hge? He was in the cells at the same time as Carmine. Their bond was important. Carmine says that Hge was killed in front of him, but my magus power couldn’t summon any ghosts. Whoever he was, he’s important.”
Athira regarded me. “Why? He’s the past.”
Did she know what affinity of magus she was speaking to? “I…” I shook my head. “Carmine mentioned him out of the blue—”
“Out of what?”
I groaned. “Out of nowhere. For no reason. The comment didn’t make sense in the scheme of our conversation otherwise.”
“Why didn’t you just say that?”
Before I could strangle the life from her, she continued, “So you think my trapped son was giving you a hint?”
“Yes. My magus power is also warning me Hge is important. Are there dungeon records?”
She shrugged a shoulder. “In the records room where the event planner is.”
“Really?” I asked.
“Really. Who cares about dungeon records?”
I mean… me. “Can you get them for me? Carmine will know if I go there.”
“Put something in the event planner to cover yourself.”
“I’m not going to find Hge in the five seconds it would take to enter something in the planner, Athira. Are you going to help or not?”
She smirked, then opened a portal and disappeared.
Ten seconds later, another portal opened and a heavy ledger smacked me in the back of the head. Her laughter rang through because she closed it again.
Someone was hung up on being stabbed.
I rolled my eyes and dragged the ledger over. Skinnier than expected. I opened the ledger and inspected the first date. Five hundred and twenty years ago.
Next to the date was a name column, a description column for their offense. Every offense stated Treason. Then a space for any daily records.
Most demons hadn’t stayed long. Not many demons had occupied the dungeons at all. We weren’t really a dungeon-using race.
“Three days,” I murmured. “Five weeks.”
The daily records cleared up any confusion about why certain demons were locked away.
Tortured. No information.
Tortured. Accidental death.
Tortured. Answers extracted.
Then suddenly the prisoners weren’t listed in the records any longer. Definitely dead. There was no way they were freed after interrogation.
The length of each demon’s stay was determined by how long they’d resisted giving up details of their treasonous crimes.
Until Carmine four hundred years later.
I ran a finger over the date and his name. Previous heir to throne—his crime. I was meant to search for Hge, but since first hearing about Carmine’s century in the dungeons, I’d felt such curiosity about that dark time.
The daily records were details at first. Food untouched. Attacked guards. Beaten.
A few years later, the details changed. Unresponsive. Sick. King visited. Checked for life. Unmoving—checked for life. Refuses to answer questions—beaten. Still alive. King visited. Alive, same condition. King visited. Same condition. Same condition.
That same record went on and on.
All the way through a century. The entries about him stopped suddenly after that, which had to have been when he’d defeated my father and taken the throne.
I flicked through the last twenty years of records. The next fifteen years were blank, and then my sister’s stay was labeled under ‘Magus’ with no crime listed. “She was the only prisoner after Carmine.”
I thumbed back through the pages. There was no record of Hge in here. No record of crime or name or death. It was as if Hge had never existed.
I closed the ledger. “What now?”
This guy was a fucking mystery. Not only had Carmine dropped his name. He’d also lied about Hge’s murder. As if he’d known it wouldn’t add up if I checked.
One thing I was certain about was Hge’s presence down in the dungeon. He’d been there—for a long time—specifically to keep Carmine whole. To keep him company. To remind him there was life to live.
A support person.
Those people didn’t exist in the demon realm. Not without a really strong personal tie. Athira hadn’t known anything about Hge, which could rule out the personal tie. Then again, she’d admitted to distancing herself from her children to keep them safe from her mate.
If not a personal tie, then Hge had to have had a huge investment in Carmine’s future. Not just his future. But in nurturing what Carmine was to preserve the best parts of him.
Almost as if for the battle ahead—the battle against Tyran.
My eyes widened. “Mother be.”
Fucking mother be!
A grin widened on my face. “You’re with Istg.”
Hge was on Neti’s side. He was a white scale. Or a white creature—a nismus or qer or butyker.
No. I surged up off the bed. “Not a nismus.”
The trail deep underground finally made sense. “You’re a qer or a butyker.” The rodent-like qer tunneled deep underground. And the giant serpents, butyker, could probably do that too.
Carmine had been kept company and held safe in the dungeons by the Istg, who had the exact motivation to do so.
My jaw dropped.
That was why Tyran wouldn’t let Carmine go there! The Istg were a healing source for the Ronj’s wrath curse.
Which was why, when I’d portaled Carmine there before escaping to Earth with Owu and Axel, Carmine had come to his senses enough to push back against Tyran. Enough that Tyran hadn’t been able to pursue me to Earth.
I covered my mouth. “It all makes sense.”
Tyran’s hold was weaker in the dungeon, and that was… “Huge.”
There was now a setting for Carmine’s eventual healing, and I was willing to bet that if I went back to the dungeons and took a closer look, I’d find Istg magic everywhere down there—just like how the dust in the Crave Arena was filled with Ronj magic.
That was what Tyran hadn’t wanted me to find out?
I frowned. Or was Tyran worried that visits to the dungeon would heal me of the wrath curse?
Oh. And lessen his total power.
Of course. That had to be it. He didn’t want to possess less magic than Neti, or the power struggle between Ronj and Istg would tip in her favor.
I opened a portal to the records room. Wiping the ledger clear of my presence, I tossed it onto an empty spot on one of the desks.
I hadn’t dropped my awareness of Carmine—knowing his location had to be a constant effort now. He was walking to the dirt garden for tonight’s festivities. Another fair. I’d need to join him very soon.
But first.
I opened a portal to my old shack in the desert. “Neti?” I called through, checking the presence of my ghost circle. One of them smiled nervously at me before darting a quick look at the fourth and fifth past kings standing either side of her. One of them was nearly as stooped as Uryrth.
I called the nismus a few times. She usually came straightaway. Then again, I hadn’t spoken to her since she hoof kicked me across my bedroom for daring to ask how Tyran’s power could be used.
Then she’d healed me into unconsciousness.
I called once more, then opened a portal to the second shack—the one where Athira had “cared” for Owu and Adeuto. “Neti?”
The shuffle and thud of her running was immediate. I watched her approach, taking in her hooves, which were flatter than those of a horse to allow quick passage over sand.
Neti stopped in front of the portal, and I eyed her. Gone were the days when I mistook her for a simple four-legged animal. This demon once led the Istg against Tyran, and where he’d lived for thousands of years in pursuit of his agenda, so had she.
“Hey,” I said lamely. “Quick question. Who’s Hge?”
With her hoof, she drew a wiggly line in the sand.
“Butyker?” I asked.
She tossed her head and snorted. I was going to say that was a yes. A sarcastic yes.
One of the giant serpents had guarded Adeuto and me at the last shack. “Not the one who was by us?”
She shook her large head.
I nodded. “I know there are two. So the other stays around the fortress dungeons.”
Another snort. Considering I was in my twenties, and she was probably five thousand years old, I’d appreciate less attitude.
“Tyran isn’t as strong there.”
Head shake.
My hands curled into fists. Yes! I’d been right.
What else? Oh. “The blue gems. Tsan and Athira can’t find them. Did the qer bring them to Adeuto?”
Neti nodded. No snort.
“Can you show Tsan and Athira where they are? They’re on our side?”
Neti backed away.
“I can’t get there myself,” I said. “We need the gems.”
The nismus turned around and walked off.
Okay. Message received. Dismissed by a horse-mule with flat hooves.
Fine by me.
I closed the portal and ripped a crimson dress out of the wardrobe. I’d started lacing myself into it, when I spotted a white dress hanging in the back. I paused in my lacing efforts.
White.
White scales.
White magic.
Now that dress would really mess with Tyran. I laughed under my breath and ripped off the crimson dress before tugging the white garment over my head.
This was different from anything else in my wardrobe. The halter neck was collared, and the bodice was a backless vest that buttoned up the front. The bodice was really part of a leotard; then the shirt over top was sheer and feminine. It would move with my body.
The dress was sexy businesswoman. Sexy, white-magic businesswoman.
Tyran would definitely worry about my intentions when he saw me.
Perfect.
Perhaps a nismus just got the better of me, but I was absolutely up to fucking with the immortal controlling my mate’s body.