by L. L. McNeil
Damon looked over at her and blinked, as though he’d forgotten she was there. ‘Yeah. Seems like the best thing to do.’
The Enchantress was the most powerful creature Seila had ever encountered. She’d be a fool not to ally herself with her. Especially with a Djinni, too. If it led to the Elite Demon and her soul, she had nothing to lose—so long as she had the killing blow, its power would be hers.
‘Come, now.’
For Seila, the evening and seeing Fallow again couldn’t come quickly enough.
9
Seila was beginning to grow fond of Mathilda by the time Damon drove them into Richmond. As it carried them down the motorway and into London, they passed through the triple steel walls surrounding England’s capital city, the gates opening and closing smoothly before and after them. She’d flown over the walls many times, and she actually enjoyed the novelty of passing through them on the ground. To most people, the walls were what kept them safe from demons. You took your chances in the country, but in cities and large towns, you were guaranteed to be safe. Of course, their safety was in actual fact down to the Kouzlo. But public knowledge of the demon hunting organisation would open a can of worms, so they were left to function in secret. In peace.
The car coughed and spluttered, but it kept going, even when Seila was certain it was about to give up and die. Damon’s love for the vehicle was endearing as well. He spoke to it like she was an old dog, forever loyal and always trying to do her best, but often not quite able to do as much as what she could in her youth.
Seila even had to stop herself from patting the dashboard like Damon did when he parked up down a quiet side street a short walk from the theatre.
Damon saw, though. His face split into a wide grin—the first time she’d seen him smile since leaving Caramond House—and he actually laughed aloud. ‘See? I told ya Mathilda is great.’
Seila rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop a sly grin creeping onto her own face. ‘Yes, yes, she’s very good.’ She leaned towards the car and patted it slowly and deliberately. ‘Well done for not dying.’
Damon stuck his tongue out at her and Seila shook her head. ‘Mathilda appreciates your compliment.’
Seila rolled her shoulders and stretched her arms up in front of her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d said more than a few words to a passing stranger, and now she’d practically fallen into Damon and Amber’s family after one night.
What on earth was happening to her?
She glanced to Damon as he locked the car and straightened his suit jacket. He’d gone without the tie, told Amber that it wasn’t needed, and had tried to tame his messy hair. He was an Elemental, properly now that Fallow had awakened his dormant powers. She wondered what he’d be capable of when it came to fighting demons. Sure, Amber could warm a mug of cold tea with her fingers, but she’d also seen her set a demon alight.
Would he be able to do the same?
Or would he be afraid of it, after their childhood? Turn the battlefield into a blaze?
He certainly hadn’t leapt at the new skills.
Seila couldn’t ignore his response to discovering his powers, and the conversation he’d had with Amber hadn’t inspired much confidence, either.
Either way, she didn’t want Damon to become a liability. He had the chance to help her, and she didn’t want him to ruin that chance because he was afraid of a little fire.
She’d gathered that he wanted to help Amber, to avenge his mother, and those he’d lost through demons. He’d just never had the ability to do so, nor the opportunity. That had changed, and Seila wondered whether Damon would embrace his new powers, or hide from them as he had done all his life.
She took in their surroundings, listened for demons. A force of habit, more than anything else. She didn’t actually expect there to be a demon waiting for them on the street. She breathed in deeply through her nose. London stank, that much was true, but she couldn’t detect any of the tell-tire bonfire burning that meant demon blood was close.
London was too built up, there were too many people. While there was plenty of cover for Toxic Fangs and Soul Eaters, they preferred more isolated prey. People who were easy to pick off one by one, in remote areas. And any of the larger types of demons would be seen immediately if they tried to hunt in these streets.
The Kouzlo kept them away. At least, they had before they’d been overwhelmed by the Elite Demon and whatever tricks it used to stay one step ahead of Fallow and her fighters.
The side street only had a handful of parked cars, and was lined with tall trees. It all seemed perfectly normal, despite the fact that there were dozens of shadows in which demons could hide. Seila believed she’d be able to spot any demons nearby, she had plenty of experience after all.
‘Come to me now. I’m here. I’m waiting here.’
She wrinkled her nose and tried to ignore the voice, an almost constant companion now. She’d never have believed one demon had such strength and perseverance. Elite Demon, indeed.
‘Ready?’ Damon called from several paces away.
Seila gave the street one last check over and was about to follow him, when she saw white feathers in one of the trees. ‘Looks like our welcome party is here.’
Damon followed her gaze. When he spotted Sierra, the grin that had been on his face drooped. ‘I guess it is.’ He checked his watch then slipped his hands in his pockets and Seila saw his jaw clench. ‘Let’s not keep the Enchantress waiting.’
Seila hurried over to him and the two of them walked down the street, around the corner, and onto the main road towards the theatre.
‘I’m waiting.’
She could have sworn the Elite Demon’s voice was growing louder, and it put her on edge. If she could hear it, then Fallow could, too. Their footsteps echoed on the pavement, and the hairs on the back of Seila’s neck stood up, like they did when she was being watched.
Seila whipped her head around to look, but only saw Sierra flying silently overhead. No demons stalked her from the shadows.
Was that all she could feel? The owl’s intense gaze?
She kept still, watched the shadows. The evening breeze was cool and light, but she couldn’t see or smell anything that might be a threat.
‘You okay?’ Damon asked.
She glanced back at him, annoyed that he thought she was scared. ‘I’m fine. Look. There’s Fallow. She’s waiting for us.’ Seila could pick out the Enchantress in any crowd. She had a presence to her, an aura, that humans simply didn’t have. Magic flowed through her veins, and even if other people didn’t realise that, they couldn’t help but stare at Fallow.
Seila, herself, was drawn to her like a moth to flame.
She fed on power—demonic power, yes, but power all the same—and Fallow oozed it like a fountain, even in her weakened state.
The Enchantress stood to the side of the queue of people waiting to get into the theatre. She held a clutch bag in perfectly manicured fingers, and she’d loosened the curls in her hair so it fell in waves around her shoulders. She watched them like a hawk.
‘Fallow,’ Damon said with an awkward nod of acknowledgement. He didn’t take his hands out of his pockets to shake her hand again and leaned back from her.
‘Damon.’ Fallow inclined her head with more grace. If she was offended, she gave no sign. Her eyes flicked over to Seila. ‘Phantom Seila.’
‘Can you hear it now?’ Seila asked, blunt as ever. There was no point in avoiding the topic that had brought them all to the same spot.
Damon cocked an eyebrow.
‘I can. Faintly. I can always hear, them, though. I dream of the day London is quiet,’ Fallow said. She sighed, wistful. ‘We’d have to take care of a great number of Mirages for that to happen, though. Perhaps more than we could seal in our lifetime. But enough doom and gloom. Are you ready? Shall we go inside? I have a box.’
‘Of course you have a box,’ Damon muttered under his breath, but Seila still heard him. She didn’t know why
he was showing such disrespect—Fallow had done him a great service—but she didn’t scold him. She had more important things on her mind.
Fallow led them to the front of the queue and the doorman unhooked the red rope barrier to let them all through. Seila didn’t like how cramped it was inside the building—there was nowhere to escape easily—but supposed with Fallow there, they’d be safe. At another time, she’d probably appreciate the architecture, but now, with a demonic voice in her head and the constant sense of being watched, she was too on edge to enjoy the experience.
It was clear that Fallow was a woman of the world. She’d travelled, enjoyed music and culture, and had her set routines and ways. But Seila didn’t know why they wasted a night in the theatre when they could be out hunting demons.
It had to be some sort of trick. Had to be.
The box provided them with height and a good view, and Seila watched the seats below slowly fill. She supposed she could fly down, if she needed to. It was better than being cramped in one of the stalls.
Fallow sat down heavily in her seat, dabbed at her brow with a pocket kerchief.
‘Any particular reason you brought us here?’ Damon asked. ‘I’m sure we could talk just as easily at Caramond House. And be more comfy, too.’ He shrugged out of his jacket to illustrate his point.
‘I like the theatre,’ Fallow replied simply.
Seila didn’t doubt that. But they were also in Richmond, close to the area where Fallow thought the new Mirage was. Perhaps she wanted them to be near, in case anything happened. Was she expecting something? Was it some kind of test?
She balled her fists in her lap, but didn’t summon her sword yet.
Damon didn’t appear to have anything to say to Fallow, so he simply folded his arms again and watched the bustle of people filling the stalls below.
The Enchantress flicked up her hands, and a shimmer of light surged from her fingertips to the top of her box.
Seila was on her feet in an instant, chair kicked back. But there was nothing. The light disappeared almost as quickly as it had appeared, and even the audience beneath them—who were still getting settled and talking amongst themselves—hadn’t noticed. ‘What was that?’
‘A small enchantment. Nothing special,’ Fallow said, smoothing out her hair. ‘It’ll keep everyone’s attention off us.’
Damon gasped, his eyes wide at Fallow’s sudden, blatant use of magic.
Fallow sighed. ‘Damon. Like it or not, you and Amber are Elementals. You have great—’
‘Power. We can do good. Yeah, yeah. I’ve heard it all before.’ His mood switched back to a childish sulk.
Fallow narrowed her eyes. ‘If you’re that lackadaisical, why did you come here?’
Damon looked at her, frowning. ‘If I’m that...what? I came here ‘cause she told me to.’ He jerked a thumb in Seila’s direction.
Seila didn’t like being accused of dragging him out. He’d driven. He’d said he’d wanted to hear Fallow out. ‘I told him I was going to see you and talk. I guess Damon wanted to tag along.’ She really didn’t like other people speaking for her. Especially when they twisted things in untruthful ways.
‘What do you do for work, Damon?’ Fallow asked, trying a completely different tact.
‘I’m a welder,’ he said, sitting up straighter. Seila detected a hint of pride in his tone.
Fallow nodded. ‘Tricky skill to master, isn’t it? Welding?’
A small smile passed over Damon’s lips. ‘Finished my apprenticeship two months ago. Longest three years of my life.’
‘Full marks on your final exam?’
Seila saw where the conversation was going, and waited for the penny to drop for Damon. Fallow seemed quite adept at manipulating others.
Damon was grinning, now. ‘Journeyman level right here.’
Fallow encouraged him with a mirrored smile, her eyes twinkling. ‘And...you need to have excellent control of the fire, don’t you?’
And there it was.
Damon hesitated, shifted in his seat. In too deep to back out, now. ‘Comes with knowledge of tools, of experience in the field.’
‘Absolutely. But knowing what the fire will do before it does it must help?’
‘I ain’t a cheater!’
Fallow shook her head. ‘I didn’t say that. And until this afternoon you weren’t even aware of your own Elemental abilities, were you? They’d never materialised, so you had no reason to suspect anything. So, if you finished the apprenticeship two months ago, you couldn’t possibly have cheated, could you?’
Damon scratched his head. ‘No…?’
‘Then there’s no problem, is there?’
‘No?’
‘But it might explain why you’ve become so skillful at it so quickly. Coupled with hard work, determination, and practice, of course.’
Damon nodded. He wanted to agree, Seila could see that, but he was also unsure. He’d hidden away from his powers for so long that facing them must have been difficult.
If Seila woke up one morning able to manipulate fire, she’d jump at the ability. Perhaps that was the difference between true demon hunters and those with some supernatural gifts; you needed power and the wherewithal to embrace it.
Fallow continued to encourage Damon. ‘Which is a good thing. Because you’ll need exactly that grit and skill to seal Mirages.’
Seila expected Damon to flinch, to pull away, to deny any interest in what Fallow had to offer. But he didn’t. He gestured for Fallow to explain.
Perhaps there was hope for him yet.
‘When we seal a Mirage, we cut off the link to the world the creature came from. In the case of demons, without access to their native dimension, their powers will disappear, and they’ll eventually die.’
‘Uh-huh,’ Damon said. ‘So, how do you seal ‘em?’
Fallow opened her clutch and brought out a leather-bound pocket notebook. The binding was covered in runes inscribed in rich, dark ink. She opened it and trailed her fingertip across several marks on the pages, pausing to show Damon some of the specific runes inscribed. ‘Written spells are used for many things, one of which is sealing Mirages. Runesmiths are particularly proficient in the art, but anyone with a little power and understanding can apply runes. They just need to know which ones to use, and have the correct tools to write them. It’s all about balance, really. The rune manipulates the fabric of the Mirage, so it must be done at the site of one.’
Damon took the book from Fallow and studied it, flicking over pages and pausing every time a particular selection caught his eye.
‘The problem is that many new Mirages sprout all the time, so we Kouzlo follow the trail of demonic activity and then seal the associated Mirage. That’s what I’m trying to do here, to stop the recent influx of demons to Fernhampton, and London.’
‘Come now. Come at once.’
Seila winced. The demonic voice had grown louder still. Now, it boomed in her mind like thunder, and she desperately wanted to see the Elite Demon responsible for the obsessive order. Was it the same one who had taken her soul? A brother to it? Something completely unrelated?
She looked at Fallow, who continued her explanation to Damon about runes, Mirages, and sealing them. It didn’t seem like the Enchantress was even aware of the thunderous voice ordering them to go to it, or she was very good at ignoring it.
Seila pursed her lips. She didn’t like it. Didn’t like it one bit.
The lights in the theatre dropped and the musicians walked on stage to raucous applause. Seila flinched at the sudden shift in atmosphere, but regained herself quickly. She ignored the stage for the most part, her eyes still scanning the audience for signs of demons. The commanding voice was so loud now, it felt as though it were right there in the theatre with her.
But she couldn’t see anything. There was no smoke, no dark shadows, no bared fangs.
Fallow would know, wouldn’t she? If there was a demon among them?
Demons didn’t routinely
attack people in theatres. Didn’t enter cities very often, either.
But Fallow must have had a reason to bring them there. Even if she didn’t overtly tell them what it was.
Seila sighed and tried to ignore the voice in her head, keep an eye on the audience, and listen to Fallow. But something pulled at her.
She needed to find that demon.
10
Seila fidgeted in her seat. As much as Fallow’s knowledge was invaluable, she couldn’t pay attention to what the Enchantress said. There were too many other things going on; an Elite Demon and its demonic voice; curiosity about why they were in the middle of London; her insatiable desire to hunt.
‘...that’s the tool we use.’
Seila glanced back. She’d been so intent on searching the stalls below that she’d missed everything Fallow had just told Damon. She caught snippets of their conversation, and realised very quickly that Fallow’s little light show from earlier had somehow sealed their box. It was now their own little bubble, where they couldn’t be heard outside. Seila wondered whether they could be seen or not, but supposed it didn’t really matter.
‘Can you seal Mirages?’ Damon asked, his voice growing louder with his excitement.
‘Yes. But not very quickly. I’m no runesmith.’
Seila faced the two of them and tried to listen in case she missed something important.
‘When is Claes coming back?’ Damon asked.
Fallow shrugged. ‘Could be a few days, could be a few weeks. But I don’t think we can wait much longer. I’m under a lot of pressure to do something. There’ve been too many demon sightings—well over than our threshold. People are beginning to worry there’ll be an attack, next.’
‘Claes?’ Seila asked. It would be obvious now that she’d missed key facts.
‘He’s the other leader of the Kouzlo here. A Master Runesmith and Fire Elemental.’
Seila carefully filed the information away. No doubt he was off on an international or interdimensional mission, if what Fallow had said earlier was true.
