Chapter Twenty-Five #2
My muscles tightened as our eyes locked, and Bronwen held my stare.
I thought I could manage in close quarters with the demoness.
I’d been wrong. Sitri seemed able to shake her insults off, and Apollo was too busy to deal with her directly.
If it weren’t for this damned injury, I wouldn’t have to put up with her, either.
But I’d rushed in, barely survived my encounter with Mara, and gotten stuck here.
With her.
For many moments, Bronwen was quiet, as if deliberating just how willing she was to involve herself in my affairs. She shrugged.
“Alright. I’m an open book. Ask, and I’ll answer.”
I blinked, then narrowed my eyes. Unlike Sitri, who reluctantly accepted Bronwen’s counsel, I couldn’t quite bring myself to trust her.
With the magic of lust and lies in my hands, I didn’t need to.
I unfurled the threads of my gift, casting a web in my mind, hoping to expose any deception she concealed.
Desires came to me like visions, one cascading after the other.
A sunlit patio in the evening, covered in plants, the air filled with birdsong and chirping insects.
A bathtub overflowing with jasmine-scented bubbles, and the hiss of a bath bomb beneath the water’s surface.
The purring of a cat kneading in my lap, the warmth of it settling against my legs, its eyes narrowed in contentment. My brow furrowed as I took them in.
Bronwen laughed through a mouthful of food. “What’s wrong, tenderfoot? Can’t find what you’re looking for?”
My lips curled back in a snarl. “What are you playing at, Bronwen?”
“Relax,” she said with a wave of her hand. “That little trick is the reason I’m here. Haagenti is the President of Alchemy, Alteration, and Anarchy. We warp magic, among other things.”
“And why would that be a reason to bring you here? Why would Sitri bother hosting another noble’s demons, knowing they could lie and keep secrets from him?”
“Because it works on other kingdoms’ gifts as well. Odds are, Vapula has a seer or two; demons who predict the future. Suppose he asked those seer demons to divine your Prince’s strategies. Wouldn’t it be a shame if they got faulty intel?”
I paused, processing that information.
Demons who predicted the future. If that was true, then the ambush at the gorge was no unfortunate accident, and the enemies who’d recognized me…
they’d known I’d be there, been prepared to find me.
Zaleos, too, had known exactly where I’d wake in the badlands.
He’d brought supplies for me, clothes in just the right size, and he hadn’t been lying when he promised me safety in Sitri’s care.
In hindsight, it was hard to believe I’d missed something so obvious.
Then again, I’d been sheltered from other kingdoms and the gifts they possessed.
Sitri said there were seventy-two of them, each with their own innate skills.
I couldn’t even begin to think of what other powers they might manifest.
“So you’re here to jam the signal, to come up with strategies Vapula won’t predict?”
“Now you get it, girl.” Bronwen flashed me a grin. “But I can’t control my talents, not like you can. I’m a catalyst. Your magic starts a runaway reaction. Don’t bother trying to use it on me.”
“Thank you for telling me. No one else has.”
“That much is perfectly clear.”
Bronwen shoveled the last of her food into her mouth.
Without even a glance at me, she stood from the table and ducked into the kitchen.
The clatter of dishes against wood told me they hadn’t been put down gently.
I grimaced. With Mara gone, Bronwen as stubborn as a mule, and both Sitri and Apollo occupied, tending the dining area had become my charge. And there she was, wrecking it.
“Be careful with those!” I shouted to the room over, rising to my feet.
Before I could make my way in, she emerged from the doorway, nonchalant as ever. She breezed by me, and I bristled.
“A few broken plates won’t matter soon, Lillia. When was the last time you went outside?”
“The least you could do is show a little respect,” I shot back. “This isn’t your kingdom, it isn’t your home, but it is mine. Do you really need to throw things around like that?”
“When?” she repeated. The demoness paused in the doorway, hand on her hip, crimson eyes trained firmly on me.
“Three days.”
Bronwen shook her head. “Come on, we’re going for a walk. There’s something you should see.”
She waved for me to follow and waltzed right out of the room. With a groan, I complied. Bronwen led me through the mansion, walking the halls as if she knew them by heart. She must have been sent here before. To torment Sitri, no doubt.
As we neared the entryway, I heard the sounds—the clatter and shouts, not born of conflict, but labor. Without a word, she threw the door open, and I gasped at what I saw.
I’d helped Apollo with fortifications once before, but nothing of this scale. Dozens, if not hundreds, of demons toiled in tandem. They hauled wooden barricades made of spiked fungus logs, dragging them through the gates of the estate and behind its stone walls.
Fire-maned demon horses pulled carts overflowing with equipment.
Hounds congregated in packs, following commands issued by crimson-skinned infernals who threw bits of meat to reward each successful maneuver.
There were human-like demons, too; lots of them.
Most wore strange cloth garb, some sort of sophisticated body armor, wholly unlike the crude leather and mail Sitri’s soldiers used.
Those must have been Haagenti’s legions, the ones Bronwen said she would request.
“Have you seen war like this before? War, like we’re preparing for?” she asked.
“No… I haven’t. Vapula caught me in one ambush. In life, I saw pictures and heard stories, but I’ve never been part of it.”
The demoness turned to me. “You’re lucky, girl. You won’t stay lucky for long. We aren’t winning a war anytime soon, no matter how this battle goes. Best case scenario, we will loan more time from fate, but we cannot win. Think about what that means.”
And I did.
I thought about what I’d seen at the gorge, the broken bodies, eyes empty, scattered on the ground. The stench of gore and smoke. Howls of pain, fear, and agony as beasts tore and hacked each other apart. Sitri and I, bloodied and despairing, riding back to Lantyca in silence.
I imagined that brutality in the streets; the demons who called Lantyca home forced to take up arms and partake in that violence in the places where they’d built their afterlives.
Apollo, Sitri, and even Bronwen, standing armored beside them, and against impossible odds. I looked around, taking it all in.
This was a suicide mission. Every single one of them must know it, but that hadn’t stopped them from participating. Did they have families? Partners? What would happen to them when Vapula’s forces came pouring in, prepared to annihilate Sitri and take me prisoner by any means necessary?
And here I was, worried about the dishes. How small that seemed in comparison.
Bronwen watched my face. It must have been contorting under the weight of my newfound understanding. At last, her own eyes softened, and she clasped a firm hand on my shoulder.
“You get it?” she asked, any edge gone from her voice.
“I do.”
“Good.”
The demoness lifted her head and looked out over the ongoing preparations. I don’t know what I expected from her, but it wasn’t the smile she gave; soft, fragile, hiding a sadness I’d never seen on her before.
“Never forget, this is Hell’s true face—endless war, never-ending strife, the weak scrabbling for a foothold as the strong tear the ground away beneath their feet. You have a few short days until that war comes for you. Are you prepared to confront it?”
I bit my lip, unsure of how to answer that question. I wanted to be ready, but when I recalled the brief violence I’d seen, when I surveyed the demons prepared to surrender their souls in my defense, I felt the truth in my heart.
“No…” I admitted, “I’m not prepared at all, but I’m going to confront it. I have to.”