by A. H. Lee
“You think it’s Mal?”
Tod shook his head. “You can’t use a living creature as a focal point, not even an inhuman entity. It has to be an object.”
Jessica thought for a moment. “Mal’s collar.”
Tod shrugged. “Don’t tell anyone I said so. Using something so intimately connected to a demon as a primary magical focus… Most magicians would call it perverse, and all of them would call it dangerous.” Tod finished straightening his clothes. “It’s one of the many things about Azrael that makes me wonder whether he was ever really at that school in Polois. He seems self-taught to me. Brilliant, but self-taught.”
Jessica leaned out of her bath to catch his hand. “Thank you again, Tod, for…for being my friend…and for letting me eat you…just a little.”
Tod smirked and kissed her hand in spite of the soap bubbles. “Like I said: worth it.”
Chapter 31. Lord Azrael’s Idea of a Date
The invitation came three days later. Jessica walked into her bedroom after a morning of Solarian parlor games to find a beautiful riding outfit laid out on her bed. The breeches and coat were crushed red velvet with gold piping, the shirt a crisp white with gold buttons. The long tails of the coat reminded Jessica of trailing butterfly wings. High, shiny black boots stood on the floor beside her bed with a note pinned on top:
Come meet us at home after lunch. I assume you remember the way.
The note was unsigned, written in small, precise letters. Jessica stared at the clothes. “Well…I guess he thought I needed a new riding suit.”
She was deeply curious about Lord Azrael’s idea of a romantic outing and how on earth that was going to work with Mal. Lunch seemed interminable. When it finally ended, Jessica hurried away to put on the new clothes and then made the long trek across the palace to the quiet northeast corner.
Nothing about the hallway leading to the apartments suggested any kind of significance, and Jessica wondered, even as she knocked, if she had, in fact, forgotten the way. However, Lord Azrael answered the door himself, dressed in equally elegant black and white riding attire. He was, however, still in his socks, and this made Jessica grin. Is anyone truly intimidating in socks?
“Miss Jessica. Please come in. Mal is beside himself with excitement to see you.”
“I am not beside myself,” flashed Mal. He poked his panther head around Azrael and gave Jessica’s arm a broad, wet lick. She could sense his desire to change shape immediately, but he held it in check. “I want to be a man now,” he said to Azrael. “Why can’t I be a man?”
“Patience,” said Azrael. “I thought Jessica might enjoy some actual riding.” He opened the door wide and beckoned Jessica into the cozy sitting room that was obviously intended only for its occupants and not for actual entertaining.
“Thank you, my lord,” said Jessica. “The clothes are gorgeous.”
“Well, I did burn your last ones.”
“Because they had your blood all over them,” put in Mal. After a moment’s consideration, he added, “We could probably find a way to get your blood all over these, too.”
Jessica gave Mal’s nose a swat, but then bent to hug him—soft fur over hard muscle. The panther rubbed his enormous head against hers—feline kisses that made Jessica laugh. Azrael strode into the next room and Mal said against her ear, “We have to be careful. I can’t change shape without permission, and you need to seem like an ordinary woman.” Before she could respond, he continued in a louder voice, heavy with mischief and irony, “You look good enough to eat!”
Jessica snickered. “Well, your master may prefer to spend his days in pajamas, but he certainly has excellent taste in clothes when he wants to use it.”
“I heard that,” said Azrael from the next room.
“She knows all your secrets!” shouted Mal.
Azrael came back into the room, now wearing boots. “Do not believe everything my cat says,” he told Jessica. “Did you get enough for lunch?”
“I did, thank you.”
“Then let’s go.” However, to Jessica’s confusion, they did not head out the door, but deeper into the suite.
“May I ask where we are going, my lord?”
“Mal says you like storybooks,” said Azrael over his shoulder.
Jessica brightened. “I do! Your library was one of the reasons I wanted to come here.”
He paused to shoot her a quizzical glance over his shoulder. “Really? Well, there are better books than Fool’s Gold.”
They’d reached his bedroom, and Jessica paused in the doorway. The large, empty picture frame on the far wall had become a window into a fall wood, blazing with color. A broad dirt path wound through the trees. Two horses, one black and one white, stood tethered there.
Mal had gone right up to the dresser and put his front paws on it. “Nice. What story is this?” Only then did Jessica notice that a book lay open below the picture, the air above it shimmering.
“Skyfire. You’ve been there before.”
Mal thought for a moment. “Are there dragons and airships?”
“Yes.”
“Oh!” said Jessica suddenly. “I’ve read this book. It’s a good story!”
Azrael smiled. “I agree.”
Jessica turned to him. “Have you read many of the books in your library, my lord?”
“All of them.” He walked past her towards the picture frame.
Jessica stared after him. She had a hard time reconciling her image of the meticulous, academic sorcerer with a love of fiction. But if you can’t have relationships with real people and you won’t travel, how else can you experience the world? She thought, also, of the considerable pressure of the job he’d chosen for himself. How many times have I escaped my troubles in a book?
“Mal, on the other hand, only wants to read grimoires,” said Azrael with a hint of acid as he stepped onto the dresser, “particularly the ones he’s not supposed to.”
“I will read storybooks sometimes,” whined Mal.
“Really? When was the last time that happened?”
“Well, I’ll listen if you read them!”
Azrael stepped through the picture frame, Mal bounding past him. Jessica followed. The step up onto the dresser was a bit high, and Azrael turned to give her a hand up. Space seemed to bend around them, as though they were somehow both three-dimensional and two-dimensional at once.
Then Jessica was stepping out onto the packed earth trail, with woods rustling all around her, inhaling the scent of loam and mountain air. The leaves had just turned and were mostly still on the trees—a riot of red and gold.
The horses looked at them in mild surprise, but they didn’t try to bolt. Azrael caught the lead rope of the white horse and started to untether her. “Our heroes leave these animals by the path in chapter eighteen. No one ever mentions them again. I’ve always thought it was a bit of a plot hole.”
Jessica laughed, delighted with the idea of taking advantage of plot holes.
“There are all manner of talking beasts in this story, so they’re not unduly troubled by Mal,” continued Azrael as he swung up into the saddle.
Jessica proceeded to do the same with the black horse. They were gorgeous animals, with muscles gliding under sleek, glossy coats, their manes and tails impossibly free of mud, burrs, or tangles. Storybook horses. Jessica couldn’t stop grinning.
She thought Mal might complain at being asked to walk while they rode, but he was already snuffling around in the bushes, darting back and forth across the path like an enormous, excited dog. The three of them started off at a fast walk, through a lazy rain of red and gold leaves, with a cerulean sky flashing through the branches overhead. The path was wide enough for all three to walk abreast with room to spare. Mal’s head came to the horse’s chests, and he paced them easily. The path wound uphill, occasionally zigzagging around mossy, fern-draped boulders. Liquid birdsong rang through the forest. Somewhere in the distance, water murmured.
“There’s a batt
le over the valley ahead in about forty minutes,” said Azrael. “It’s worth seeing.”
“The Battle for Presha?” asked Jessica.
“That’s the one.”
“This little town and its dragons have to take out an enormous airship,” Jessica explained to Mal. “The dragons and their riders are considered hopelessly outmoded. The big airship has biplanes with guns. It’s very exciting.”
Mal looked up at her curiously. “Are there any shapeshifters?”
“I don’t think so,” said Jessica, “but the dragons have feathers.”
“People also ride giant cats here,” put in Azrael. He’d picked up his horse’s pace to a trot, and Jessica did likewise.
Mal sputtered. “They ride cats? And you ask me why I don’t go visiting pocket worlds very often!”
“Don’t worry; no one will try to ride you,” said Azrael sweetly. “You’re much too small and fragile.”
“I am not fragile,” sneered Mal. “And generally I do the riding.”
Azrael turned to Jessica. “Do you have much experience with horses, Miss Charles?”
“A fair amount, my lord. My cousins have a farm, and I’ve been riding since I was little.” She hesitated, wondering whether he might be about to give her a critique. Azrael rode well; she could already see that. “My lessons here have improved my form,” she ventured.
“Nothing could improve your form,” put in Mal.
“He is a never-ending supply of footnotes on any conversation,” said Azrael to Jessica.
She laughed. I think the two of you together are a never-ending supply of footnotes.
Azrael looked down at his cat. “You warmed up yet, Mal?” He kicked his horse into a canter.
“That depends on what you want to do,” drawled Mal, increasing his lope without apparent effort. “I’m pretty sure you’d need a lot more foreplay.”
Azrael refused to be drawn. “I’d like to get to the edge of the valley in time to see this battle.”
“Well, don’t hold back on account of me, Boss.”
Jessica understood then why Azrael had asked about her riding. He accelerated into a gallop, and Jessica’s horse was keen to keep up. The animals had a beautifully smooth gait, and they flashed along the forest path, going higher and higher. Mal had opened out into a long, bounding run. Jessica had never seen him run. It was mesmerizing.
By the time they reached level ground at the top of the ridge, they were all breathing hard. Azrael didn’t slow down, though. “Need any more foreplay, Mal?”
Mal didn’t answer him this time, just shot ahead—a spring-loaded ribbon of liquid night.
Azrael kicked his horse, and suddenly they were running all-out. Jessica leaned forward, edging a little to the side, making sure they all had plenty of room. The trees were thinning as the path disappeared, opening into a meadow of long grass dotted with yellow flowers. The cliff loomed in the near distance—a knife-edge of green against the blue sky.
An enormous log lay across the meadow. Jessica’s horse went around it, but Azrael and Mal went straight over. Jessica knew she should keep her eyes to the front, but she couldn’t help turning to watch them. Azrael crouched half-off the saddle, his back a straight line from hips to shoulders—a slim, dark figure on a white horse, and Mal a glossy black ripple with a flash of silver.
They are really racing.
It was not at all clear who would win. As they neared the cliff’s edge, Azrael leaned forward and whispered something to his horse. The animal put on a burst of speed and pulled ahead. Mal gave an outraged snarl and found enough breath to shout, “You—are using—my—magic!”
Jessica thought she heard Azrael laugh. He turned in a shower of earth and grass just before the cliff. By all the gods, he can sit a horse, thought Jessica. He was outlined against the sky for an instant like some vision of a cavalry officer.
Jessica was only seconds behind, but she had time to shout, “Mal, don’t!” before Mal sailed through the air, never slowing down, and took Azrael cleanly off the horse.
Chapter 32. Intimacy and Threat
Azrael’s startled horse bolted. Jessica’s own animal reared and pranced as she tried to stop. Mal pinned Azrael flat on his back on the edge of the cliff and roared into his face. Jessica saw the panther flicker—as though he wanted to change shape and couldn’t. In the same instant, Azrael’s body and clothes lit up with swirling lines of iridescent blue.
Jessica caught her breath as she realized what she was seeing—Azrael’s personal wards. He was covered in them—a second skin of protective magic. Both Mal’s flickering and the visible wards disappeared in an eye-blink as Jessica scrambled down from her horse.
“Get off me,” said Azrael. He didn’t sound injured, but all the playfulness had gone from his voice.
Mal backed up, as though suddenly realizing what he was doing. He averted his eyes and licked his lips, looking embarrassed and slightly confused.
Jessica wanted to give Azrael a shake. What do you expect when you keep teasing him?
Mal was fluffed from head to tail. He started pacing back and forth, walking off his run, pink tongue lolling between long white teeth.
Azrael rose and dusted himself off, still breathing hard. After an awkward moment, Jessica said, “What shall I do with my horse? Does she need a cooldown?”
“Not really,” said Azrael, “but sometimes I do it anyway. There’s a stream about ten minutes’ walk in that direction.” He gestured with his hand along the cliff. “If you take her over there, give her a drink, and tether her, she’ll be fine.”
Jessica turned in relief and started walking through the lush grass and yellow flowers. After a moment, Mal came bounding up beside her, and Azrael did not call him back. They walked half the distance in silence. Mal was still getting his wind. The valley stretched below them on their left, a patchwork of fields and hedges, pretty as a painting.
Jessica wanted to say something about what had just happened, but she thought better of it. Let’s talk about anything else. “I had sex with Tod a couple of days ago. I managed to feed without killing him.”
Mal gave a tongue-lolling grin. “That puppy’s got a little more stamina than most.”
“You know what he is?”
“Do you?”
“He told me.” Jessica decided not to mention what she had told Tod.
“Aw, you did get under his skin.” Mal smirked. “I thought it was funny—you dancing with him in that red dress.”
Jessica considered this for a moment and laughed. Red and the Wolf. She glanced at Mal sidelong. “He said you could give world-class lessons in cock-sucking.”
If she’d hoped to embarrass him, she failed. “Of course I can. I am Lust.”
“You are yourself.”
“Azrael’s textbooks would tell you otherwise.”
Jessica did not want to pursue this subject. “So you’re not jealous that I had sex with Tod?”
Mal looked frankly astonished. “Why should I be? I can have him anytime I want!”
Jessica put a palm to her face. “I meant— Gods, never mind.”
“Humans get jealous,” said Mal more gently. “Or some of them do. Humans seek exclusivity for purposes of rearing their young and forming alliances and such things. But succubi and incubi can’t behave that way. If I were the best cook in the world, it would still be ridiculous for me to expect you to eat only my food.”
Jessica rather liked this analogy. She turned it over in her mind. “Well, you are a good cook,” she said at last, and Mal butted his head against her hip. “Although you know it far too well.”
They’d reached the stream, and Jessica busied herself with the horse. Mal went to the water and lapped daintily. “Can we drink it?” asked Jessica.
“Yes. Although you’ll still be thirsty when you get out of the book.”
After Jessica had drunk, she asked, “How often do I need to feed anyway? On magic, I mean.”
“If you’re not using m
uch, once a month will do,” said Mal, “although you’ll feel better if you take more.”
“Oh.” Jessica brightened. That’s not so much.
“On the other hand,” continued Mal, “if a sorcerer is drawing on your magic like you’re an enormous battery, there’s really no limit to how often you’d need replenishing.”
Jessica sighed. “Oh, Mal. I’m sorry.”
As they started back towards Azrael, Jessica saw an airship approaching the valley—a dirigible with a massive, armored gondola and a swarm of planes and floating dinghies coming and going. By the time she and Mal arrived at their starting point, the battle had commenced. Colorful, feathered dragons carried their loyal human riders into desperate combat with biplanes in the sky over the valley. The battle had been engrossing to read, and it was breathtaking to watch.
Azrael had stretched his long, narrow frame in the soft grass—one hand behind his head, the other across his stomach. He’d taken off his coat, which lay neatly folded beside him. He was watching the battle in the sky and didn’t glance at Jessica and Mal as they approached.
Mal padded over and lay down at a right angle to Azrael. To Jessica’s surprise, he then flopped his great head down across Azrael’s chest. Jessica flinched, anticipating an explosion. But Azrael only made a little “oomph” sound at the sudden weight. He wrestled his arm out from under Mal’s chin, stroked his head once, and left his hand there—long and pale on the sleek, black fur.
After a moment, Jessica came forward and settled herself in the crook of Mal’s body. She watched the two of them out of the corner of her eye, trying to understand what she was seeing—the strange combination of intimacy and threat.
Meanwhile, the battle over the valley was every bit as impressive as she remembered. There was death and triumph and billows of flame. Azrael and Jessica watched it to the end, but Mal fell asleep on his master’s chest.
Chapter 33. Pitiful
“Well, I’ve got to get some work done.” Azrael sat up, displacing Mal’s head onto the grass.
