by Nichols, TJ
“I don’t know.” He knew it was the wrong thing to say as soon as the words left his mouth. “Finding other demons might answer those questions.”
She shook her head, and her white skin glittered in the sunlight. Her mouth was too wide for her face, and her dark gaze turned on him. She wouldn’t eat his soul, but she was clearly unhappy.
“We have enough problems without uncovering more. What? Would you propose that we walk until we run into strange demons? Who is to say they even have the answers. We must concentrate on doing what we can. Destroy those who would destroy us.”
How could she be so blind? “Those strange demons could bring their humans into the fight. We wouldn’t be so dependent on the goodwill of the underground.”
He was very close to arguing with her, but she hadn’t given him a direct order yet.
She stopped and faced him. “If their world is in trouble, why are they not already in the fight? You will not chase this idea. Find a better way to help us.” She started walking again. “I want to see Angus when he returns. Alone.”
Saka kept pace with her, unwilling to let Usi or the other mages think there was a problem. “Very well.”
Teaching Angus to not give up the magic within him wouldn’t help Demonside in the short term, nor would ignoring his knowledge. It opened doors and Saka thought they needed to tear down the whole tent, one panel at a time, until the structure was revealed. Only then would they be able to fight back and heal both worlds.
“How many days are we from the blue pool?”
Saka slid his mind to the river and away. The last time he’d seen the blue pool, it had been a muddy puddle surrounded by brilliant blue rocks. Metal workers liked the site because it was rich in ore. There was also enough space to plant and grow crops. He sensed it, cold and clear. And brimming. He blinked and realized Miniti had her hand on his arm to stop him from wandering in the wrong direction. It was easy to accidentally walk into the river when following it. “About four long days.”
“And how long until the humans come back?”
“Five.” Five in Vinland and ten in Demonside.
He hoped Angus’s eyes were as blue as the lake when he returned, that it was easy for a human to reabsorb what Demonside had taken, but he had no idea.
He had no idea how he was going to find the other tribes either. But he would.
Chapter Sixteen
The debrief in the snow-covered yard was mostly Angus half lying about what he had learned. Yes, he had sex with his demon. Yes, he was learning sex magic. The warlock who’d ripped into his mind, without any lube or permission, had passed on everything he’d seen to the man in charge. A headache still pulsed at the base of Angus’s skull. He wanted to learn how to block such magic and turn it on the user, but he bit back on the anger and the blatant lack of trust. He needed the underground or he had no way to get out of Demonside.
Without the underground’s protection he was a wanted criminal in Vinland.
It was only after the debrief that Angus was allowed to go inside. Norah and Lizzie were kept away from him until they were spoken to. When he walked into the house, a light pressure formed on his skin. He hesitated in the doorway.
“Is there a problem?” the warlock who’d called him a skitun asked.
“Yeah. I didn’t ask where my room was or where the bathroom was. I’m dying for a shower.” He smiled as though he hadn’t noticed there were magic dampeners in the house. It was clear the underground didn’t want them using magic or summoning demons. Were they the underground anymore or just an offshoot of the college?
He didn’t know, but concern had blossomed into full-grown distrust and suspicion. The original aim of the underground had been to promote learning among wizards and to push back against college propaganda. Now it wanted to take control from the college, and while Angus had no problem with the fall of the college, he cared about what replaced it. There would be a power vacuum to fill, and it didn’t appear that trained wizards would take over. It would be more college-trained warlocks.
“Turn right at the kitchen. Both are down the hallway.” The man studied him as though he were trying to work out which part of Angus was defective.
Angus turned away. He would not be made to feel shame or embarrassment. But it was there just beneath his skin, threatening to rise and stain his cheeks red. Soon they would all know, and they would all look at him with barely hidden revulsion.
It’s not wrong.
It didn’t feel wrong, but maybe it was….
And yet it must have been practiced at some point. Or had it always been forbidden? Was it forbidden everywhere? He had no idea and no one to ask.
He made a mental list of things he wanted to do. At the top was a shower—a long one so he could get the sand out of his hair and have a shave. When he was in Demonside, the beard didn’t matter, but in Vinland, it itched, and he wanted the scruff gone.
He collected clothes and toiletries from the wardrobe in the room that was clearly his—the things Terrance had liberated from the college were on the desk—and went to the bathroom. Two steps in, and he stopped and stared. The man in the mirror wasn’t the way he remembered himself. The bowl of water in Demonside had not revealed the full extent of the changes.
His hair had taken on a life of its own. No longer neat and styled, it was long and messy. His skin was no longer pale, and his freckles had darkened accordingly—there was no escaping them apparently. One step closer. His cheekbones were more pronounced. There was an edge to his face, as though it had been carved and not sanded down to give curves.
But it was his eyes that were the worst.
Another step closer.
His eyes were still blue—barely. Coupled with the half-grown and unimpressive beard and his hair, they made him look more than a little unhinged. He wasn’t sure he’d trust a man who looked the way he did right then. It would take more than a shower to even come close to respectable.
As much as he loved the shower—there was no time limit, unlike in Demonside—he eventually dragged himself out of the warm water. He shaved and was glad there wasn’t a tan line on his face. If he’d stayed longer, no doubt there would be. His body was pale, but his hands, face, and lower legs were tanned. It wasn’t a great look. Dressed in clean human clothing and with his hair washed and brushed, he looked better.
But he didn’t feel it. The magic dampeners pressed on him as though trying to smother him. They were common in public places, for security reasons, but he’d never been able to feel them before. Suddenly he could, and he didn’t like it. How long until it became unbearable?
Maybe there were weak spots in the house, places he could claim as his own without explaining why. So he wandered through and noted how many bedrooms there were. Only three. It looked as though the underground planned to keep the groups of trainees separate so they couldn’t compare notes. Some of the rooms had closed and locked doors. Lodgings for the people who would stay to supervise them? Angus didn’t think for a moment that they’d be left alone.
In the kitchen he helped himself to bread and made a sandwich full of meat and cheese and relish. Still hungry, he made another and ate it over the chopping board. There was no point in using a plate when he ate them so quickly. He looked in the fridge again and helped himself to milk. At least he remembered to get a glass just before he took a drink from the carton. Was he expected to cook, or would meals be provided? Were Lizzie, Norah, and he under house arrest or being protected from those in the college who’d like to make sure no one went to Demonside to learn?
Lizzie wandered in and made herself a cup of tea. She took the carton of milk from him without a word.
Next time they would need to make sure they spoke before they returned. Assuming they were allowed to go again. Nothing was certain, and Angus didn’t like that at all. He suspected the underground wanted them off-balance, which made him like it even less. He needed a new plan, one where he wasn’t dependent on the increasingly unreliable un
derground.
He couldn’t linger in Demonside—that was painfully clear—but he couldn’t stay in Vinland either. Certainly not New London. Too many people would have seen his image, and reward money would sweeten the deal and make them ask fewer questions about what he’d done. His father’s threats and promises were still causing him problems. For a horrid moment, he thought he’d never be free. His whole life would be running and hiding.
Too many people bought into the lies that wizards and rogues had caused the cooling climate. Not enough people were able to access news from around the world before it was heavily filtered. He’d read pamphlets put out by the underground when he was with Jim. Did they still do that?
Lizzie watched him from beneath her lashes, though she was clearly trying to be very busy stirring her tea.
He couldn’t take it any longer. “Just ask.”
He ate the last piece of bread crust. He’d missed fluffy white bread. And butter. And milk.
She put the spoon down and let a few more awkward seconds slip past. “So it is true? I mean, I thought something was going on… especially as that other demon with the green skin….” Lizzie took a sip of tea and gave him a pointed look.
“Usi.” That other demon had a name, and he would make her ask.
“Yeah, her, was always going into the tent.”
“That was for something different.” He wouldn’t share that either. It had been hard enough trying to explain that to learn blood magic there had to be a volunteer willing to bleed during the debriefing. The warlock asking the questions didn’t seem to believe that mages would put themselves in that position. It didn’t surprise Angus at all. Warlocks didn’t teach the way mages did, and they didn’t encourage curiosity. At least the man asking the questions hadn’t asked for details about the sex magic, which was a small relief.
Angus glanced up at the dampener. Was it also a camera or a microphone? Until he discovered otherwise, he would be careful. Somehow he’d advise Norah and Lizzie to watch what they said and did. They were stuck there together, so they had to be on the same side.
“Usi has nothing to do with that. Saka….” He shrugged. “It’s what Saka is good at—raising power with lust—so it’s what he started to show me.”
“And you like it?”
Lie or truth? When they got back to Demonside, he wouldn’t be able to hide it. Besides, Lizzie might be the only human he could trust… sort of trust. “Yeah. What’s not to like? He’s a good lover.”
“He’s a demon.” She sipped her tea and raised one eyebrow.
He crossed his arms. “Truly? I hadn’t noticed, though I did wonder about his horns and tail.”
She rolled her eyes. “Does it work?”
“What?” He wasn’t going to hand over everything he knew. If she wanted details, she would have to dig.
She lowered her voice. “Can you raise power that way?”
“Yes.” But he needed to learn to not put himself into it, to raise the power but keep his magic separate. That was going to be difficult when rebalancing the magic was part of the point. Or was that merely a side effect? He didn’t know.
And he had no way to learn while he was stuck in this house.
He needed books that were in use before the college became the one and only way for warlocks to train. He needed to see old wizarding texts—or better, books from beyond Vinland. How did other countries work with their demons? His chances of acquiring anything except college-approved texts were extremely small, but that wouldn’t stop him from asking. Then he had a better idea. “If we’re trapped in this house, we should do something useful.”
“Like what? Practice?”
Lizzie hadn’t realized there were dampeners, and he didn’t want to let it slip that he’d realized. “No, we should ask for old textbooks. I’m sure the underground must have saved some from destruction.”
She frowned. “Is magic all you think about?”
It was most of what he thought about because it was tied intimately to his survival in both worlds. Meeting Saka had made his life dangerous and interesting, and it could only go back to how it had been if the warlocks erased all his memories. Losing Demonside would be like carving out a lung and a kidney and half his liver. He could live without them, but life wouldn’t be the same, and he’d know something was missing.
“No, I think about Terrance, and I hope he’s okay.” He drew in a breath and then took the chance. “The underground took him hostage to make sure I behave.”
If there was a microphone, he wanted the people listening to know there were some things he wouldn’t keep quiet about.
“They wouldn’t do that.” Lizzie shook her head, and her expression shuttered.
“They did.” He lowered his head as though beaten. “They don’t trust me.” He even managed to sound like he cared that the underground didn’t trust him. “But how can I trust them when they’d do that to my boyfriend?”
The following morning there were some books on the breakfast table. While Angus was sure they’d all been vetted and deemed suitable, he didn’t care. They were all from before the Warlock College became so powerful. He ate cereal as he flicked through them. He noted that some pages had been removed.
It didn’t matter. Something was better than nothing, and he didn’t want to sit around and watch the lies that passed for news. He didn’t want to hear about demons breaking through the void and killing when he knew that someone had to have summoned those demons. No one could open the void from Demonside.
Nor did he want the filtered news from the outside. He knew about the proposed trade sanction and the envoys from the World Council of Demonology, but he was sure Vinland’s media would spin it as though they wanted to help, not that Vinland was the problem.
He heard the guards talking about magicless countries threatening war. War wouldn’t make things better. The college would probably just draw more magic. Countries that didn’t use magic didn’t seem to understand that the solution was to rebalance. The college needed to release the magic it had stored. It wouldn’t help the situation to starve the citizens or wipe out the people who knew where the magic was stored.
There was a knock on the front door, but he didn’t bother to get up. One of their friendly guards would get it. The one who looked at him and sneered and muttered, or the one who wouldn’t look at him at all? There was a third, a man who spent most of his time outside with a pipe.
Voices drifted from the foyer, and Angus looked up. His heart already beat a little too fast, but his head told his ears they were wrong. It wasn’t Terrance’s voice at the front door.
It couldn’t be. Angus glanced at the books.
Maybe it was, and the people in charge wanted to look like they cared or at least like they weren’t complete assholes. Or maybe they just wanted to keep Angus on their side. Give him the books and his boyfriend. What could go wrong?
It proved that someone was listening to everything.
He stood, quietly easing the chair back, and made his way through the dining room. He stopped in the doorway. A smile formed, and he didn’t know what to say.
Then Terrance noticed him. Shock flickered over his face, and a smile arranged itself on his lips. Angus rocked back on his heels as though he’d been pushed. Had he changed that much? A full night of sleep had left him rested, if not relaxed. The guard with the sneer grabbed Terrance’s arm and murmured something in his ear. Angus didn’t need to hear the words to understand what he said.
“I know,” Terrance said as he shook off the grip.
A few steps and he stood in front of Angus, who still hadn’t managed to move and wasn’t sure if he should. He’d never considered how his changed appearance might affect Terrance. Angus hoped his eyes would go back to normal. He still startled himself when he looked in the mirror, so he had to forgive Terrance his shock.
Terrance studied him for a moment longer. To decide if he wanted to stay or leave? “Did you learn heaps?”
“Yeah.�
�� What else could he say?
Terrance hugged him. His lips brushed Angus’s ear. “I’m wearing a dampener. I can’t open the void and escape.”
Angus returned the embrace. He didn’t need to act as though it was a welcome reunion. It was. He leaned in, smelling the cold on Terrance’s skin and the faint musk of deodorant. “How long are you here for?”
“Not long enough. An hour at most.”
They drew apart. They needed to talk away from the dampeners and the microphones. “Do you want to go outside? Maybe we can build a snowdemon.”
“What?” Terrance and the guard asked simultaneously.
“I’ve been in the desert. I want to be in the snow. It’ll be fun.” He gave Terrance a nudge and a look that he hoped Terrance would understand.
“As long as it’s with you, I don’t care.” That sounded almost genuine, but there was something else there.
“You can’t go outside,” the guard said, suddenly on alert and acting as though Angus had suggested blowing up the house.
“I can’t sit out and enjoy the cold after baking my ass off for ten days? Do you know how hot it is over there?” Angus walked toward the back door. He doubted they’d admit to the dampeners, but what other reason could they give for not wanting him to step outside?
“It’s too dangerous. What if someone sees you? You’re still a wanted criminal.” The guard appeared just a little too happy to say that.
Yes, that was a problem, but he was sure the house had been selected because it was in a secure location. He hadn’t paid much attention to the neighbors the day before. Getting his memories inspected had scattered his thoughts and given him a headache that lasted most of the night.
“I’ll keep my head down and hood up.” Angus swiped his jacket off the hook by the back door. He paused for half a second to give the man time to react, but he did nothing except call his superiors.
They had a few minutes at least.
As soon as he stepped out of the house, the pressure on his skin eased. As he got ready for bed the night before, he thought sleep would never come, but he was so tired from the walking and the late nights of learning that sleep dragged him under before he had time to worry about it. He woke up aware of the pressure before he fully realized it was well past dawn.
