Chapter Thirteen
Ena
Ena fell into a routine over the next several days.
She spent her mornings looking through books in the Archives, while Ty was busy tending to the mine, or the forge, or one of the many other things that seemed to require his attention.
Then, in the afternoon, she exercised with her daggers with Ty, or sometimes just Turner, in the fighting ring.
She found she actually liked the act of letting go and being present that fighting entailed. She needed to maintain concentration, yes, but it was also freeing to shut off all other thoughts and focus only on the task at hand, losing herself in the flow and chaos of the fight.
And she certainly needed it as an outlet for her frustration.
It wasn’t like she thought she’d figure out the entire binding spell in one week, but she would have liked to have made more progress by now.
She’d already read all of The Evolution of Magic and started on some of the other books from Petyr—which turned out to be a witch’s journals, though she couldn’t quite figure out whose—but had discovered nothing concrete.
She planned on expanding her search into some of the daemonic books in the Archives soon, especially those focusing on runes, because she knew she also needed something to sell their cover to Cole at the onata celebration next week.
She’d planned to give Ty an update on her research this morning before he left, but he’d been summoned by Cole before the timekeeper arrived.
She was starting to realize how critical he was to the functioning of the Underworld, how much people here relied on him, and while she fully admired him for that, she resented the way those duties kept him from her.
They’d barely had time for anything but passing kisses and quick fucks in the morning before he was called away, or sometimes in the dark and quiet middle of the night, both of them half-asleep.
He often didn’t come back to his rooms until Ena was asleep, but he always sent Turner to escort her to and from the Archives, and he always had food sent for her.
And the nights when he wasn’t available to join her for dinner, she’d been invited to Lara and Steig’s, which was always a good time, but still… she missed him.
One morning, after a few days of this routine, Ena was dressed and waiting for Turner to arrive when she heard a knock on the door.
Assuming it was the daemon in question come to escort her to the Archives, she opened it to instead find Lara standing there, her auburn hair braided over one shoulder.
“Hiya, sunshine,” she said, grinning at Ena’s appearance.
Ena felt a slight pang go through her at the greeting. Greya used to call her that sometimes, and the memory of it hurt to recollect.
Brushing the feeling aside, she mustered a smile for her new friend. “Hey,” Ena said, surprise in her voice. “What are you doing here? I was expecting Turner.”
“I asked him to relinquish his witch-slave duty to me for the day. I wanted to show you around a bit more, if that’s okay with you?”
“Absolutely,” Ena said. She was a bit disappointed that she wouldn’t get to enact her research plan, but that could wait a day. She was curious to see some of the other areas of the Underworld. “Where did you have in mind?”
“I thought we could stop by the mid-level kitchens first, since you had such a fascination with mine, and then we could go see Ty in the forge.”
Her heart leaped. They were going to visit Ty?
Lara rolled her eyes. “Well, we can skip the kitchens if you’re that excited to see the guy,” she teased.
“No, no,” Ena said, laughing at her offer. “Let’s see the kitchens first.”
Ena joined Lara in the passageway, where they headed toward the Great Antre. Ena was starting to figure her way around a little bit. She at least knew what direction the Great Antre was and how to get to the Archives from there, but everywhere else was mostly a blur.
“So my reaction was that obvious, huh?” Ena asked Lara as they walked.
Lara looked over at her, one eyebrow raised. “Oh yeah,” she said. “Your face lit up like a darkrock lantern.”
Ena buried her face in her hand, but couldn’t help but smile underneath.
Lara laughed. “Don’t be embarrassed. I think it’s sweet,” she said. “Ty’s been…well, he’s been grumpy for a long time. I can tell you make him happy in a way I’ve never seen before.”
Ena blushed. “He makes me happy too.”
She changed the topic then, asking about Steig, who was apparently also off doing Cole-mandated duties while an older daemon woman watched the kids, until they reached the Great Antre.
Taking one of the ground-level passageways, they went down a stairwell to the mid-levels. Ena had yet to see much of the mid-level yet, aside from the fighting ring, since the Archives and Ty’s and Lara’s rooms were all on the upper level.
As Lara led her through the mid-level passageways, she could tell a difference almost instantly. The rooms were clearly smaller, with more doorways lining the halls, and the passageways were narrower, too, the ceilings not as high.
They passed several daemons as they moved about—no onata tattoos to be seen—which made sense, given that none of them were eligible to receive them. These daemons seemed different too—their attitudes were humbler, almost like the witches and mortals she knew.
Ena could tell they were making their way towards the center of the level, and eventually, they walked through a large open archway, entering into a spacious cavern filled with the same metal stoves Ena had seen in Lara’s kitchen.
There were about a dozen of them lined along the walls, and the air was filled with the conflicting aromas of several different foods cooking.
About half a dozen people moved around the space—chopping and stirring and chatting casually with one another.
Lara greeted several of the daemons as they entered, and they greeted her warmly in return, but the same couldn’t be said about the way they greeted Ena.
Their eyes darted to her imperae collar, and they looked at her with a mixture of pity and suspicion.
But Ena found that she was, unfortunately, getting used to that reaction, and it didn’t stop her from enjoying the unique atmosphere.
It was friendly, cozy, but for some reason, watching the daemons interact with one another, especially in the kitchen, made Ena’s heart ache for home. Despite choosing to be here, she missed her Coven, and she missed Greya.
“Are you alright?” Lara asked, pulling her aside next to an unused stove. She had clearly noticed the conflicting emotions on Ena’s face, and her brow was furrowed in concern.
“Yeah,” Ena said, trying to wipe the forlorn look off her face. “It’s just…”
She paused, wondering if they had advanced to the part in their friendship where Ena could share some of these things.
She didn’t want Lara to think that missing her Coven meant she excused what witches had done in the past, or that her loyalty was to them over Ty and the daemons, but Lara had been nothing but kind to her, so… maybe it would be safe to open up.
“It’s my sister,” Ena explained. “Being here reminds me of her. She loves to cook. She makes the absolute best biscuits this side of the Chasm Mountains,” Ena said, smiling sadly. “I try not to think about it, but I miss her. A lot. She’s like my other half, and we didn’t part on very good terms.”
Lara looked at her sympathetically. “Did those terms maybe have something to do with Ty?” she guessed, raising her brows.
Ena nodded. “I just hope she forgives me for coming here. I hope I get the chance to explain better about everything, and that she’ll believe me.” Ena offered a watery smile, trying to act as if she wasn’t distraught at the thought, but Lara wasn’t falling for it.
“She’ll believe you,” Lara said simply. “If she’s anything like you, she’ll come around.”
Ena laughed slightly at her confidence. “How can you be so sure? You don’t even know her. You barely know me.”
“I know you’re brave as fuck for coming here. And loyal to Ty, for choosing to help him after all these years. If you’re as close as you say, when the time comes, I know she’ll believe you. And I bet she’s already forgiven you.”
Ena felt the knot in her heart loosen slightly, and she stared gratefully at Lara.
Should they hug? Ena felt like maybe they should hug, but she didn’t know if Lara was a hugger. Gaia, new friendships were awkward sometimes.
Luckily, Lara spared her any more fretting. “Come on,” she said simply, nodding towards the back of the kitchens.
Ena followed her friend as they resumed their tour of the kitchens.
Lara showed her the food pantries, which were communal for the entire mid-level.
She explained how they rationed the food, giving each family an equal portion, but that since they hadn’t yet built kitchens in every home, thanks to Cole and his refusal to sanction the labor required, they often came together to cook and share what they made.
Ena found herself in awe of the cold storage room, which had been Imbued with runes from a daemon’s Power of algus, which was similar to the witches’ Gift of glacio, lowering the temperature of the room, making it cold.
In it, Ena saw slabs of meat, from venison they’d hunted in the surrounding area, or the chickens, pigs, and goats they kept on the lower levels.
In the other, smaller room, Ena saw sacks of grain, potatoes, garlic, onions, and sparse bunches of herbs.
She could tell instantly by their aroma that many of them were too old to be of much use in cooking.
She wondered how often they were able to get new supplies.
Without the ability to grow their own food underground, Ena realized how difficult it must be to keep the entire population fed.
“Where does all this food come from?” Ena asked Lara.
Lara led her back out of the dark pantry into the well-lit cooking space.
“Some of it we trade for. When upper-levels go out on missions, they’re often tasked with retrieving supplies as well.
It serves two purposes—helping aid them in the cover, and allowing us to get what we need to survive.
But…” She hesitated, as if she were nervous to admit what she was about to say.
“Some of it is stolen?” Ena asked, eyeing her friend.
“Yeah,” Lara responded matter-of-factly. “I hope you won’t go getting all witch-judgy on me. We only do what we need to, and with my father in charge…well, it’s not always up to us.”
“I’m not judging,” Ena said sincerely. “Just…wishing it were different.”
Lara sighed, watching the families cooking and laughing together. “Me too,” she said sadly.
“So, what level of daemon are you, then?” Ena asked her as they made their way back out into the passageway. “You said your Power isn’t suited for missions and that you manage the kitchens instead, but you live on the upper levels.”
“I’d live on the mid-levels if it wasn’t for my father and my husband. Steig is upper-level because of his Power, so I live there, too, but yes, technically my Power makes me a mid-level daemon.”
“So…what is your Power anyway?” Ena asked.
She’d been extremely curious, but had been hesitant to ask.
Witches’ Gifts were often a sign of their status in the Coven, especially for matriarchs since their Gifts tended to be rarer, and clearly, daemons’ had even stricter ideas about Powers and status, so she didn’t want to make Lara feel like she was judging her.
“It’s gaudium,” Lara said without shame.
“I can bring people joy—cause a euphoria so intense you break into a fit of giggles,” she added, smiling widely at Ena.
“It’s extremely useful as a mother, I’ll give it that, even though I try not to use it too often.
But…not as suitable for missions,” she said with a shrug.
“Making mortals and witches happy is not quite fitting with Iblis’s desire for discord. ”
She said that last part ruefully, and Ena was again struck by the utter bullshit of this arrangement—both that daemons were separated based on what Iblis wanted, and that they were all forced to serve him at all.
“How does Cole interpret Iblis’s will anyway?
How is it that he can say so definitively Iblis doesn’t want that?
In my experience, intense happiness, at the expense of everything else, can be just as destructive as other emotions.
” She remembered that drunk-on-life feeling she’d gotten from Ty nine years ago when they’d first met, and she recognized it welling up in her frequently when they were together now too.
Who was to say that feeling wasn’t chaos incarnate, given the way it had made her uproot her very life?
“Mostly divination with rune stones, and sometimes Iblis comes to him in dreams, but a lot of times, I think he just follows his instincts,” Lara replied, sounding bored by the idea.
“Hmm,” Ena said, pondering that.
“What? You’re suspicious of that?” Lara asked, misinterpreting her reaction. “How do witches interpret the will of Gaia, anyway?”
“No, not suspicious, just…that’s similar—very similar—to the ways witches commune with Gaia. Our matriarch will also use divination, but with bones, and Gaia visits her in dreams as well. But it’s also often just…her natural instincts that guide her, like you said.”
“Hm, yeah,” Lara said, seeming intrigued by the similarities as well. “Seems like maybe witches and daemons have more in common than we thought,” she replied, smiling widely at Ena.
“Absolutely,” Ena said, returning the smile to her new friend in kind.