“I didn’t mean identifying what they were anyway. I was talking about that possessed idol being in the house. You knew that someone had sold Morel something at the shrine. How?”
Damien shifted a hand inside his cloak pocket. “It’s an old tactic of an acquaintance.”
She blew out a long breath, stretching overhead as they turned down another road amongst the estates, the knoggelvi and Kaz trailing after. It wasn’t the exact way they had come, but the street was quiet and pleasant with a cool breeze sweeping down it, and the magic forcing Amma to follow him was abating. “Well, that was still an awfully nice thing you did. You probably cleared Morel’s name, and you stopped him being tormented by those demons which is a big help.”
“Succubi and incubi aren’t demons—ubi are just infernal creatures, like Kaz.” Damien slowed his pace for a moment, glancing upward.
“Oh, okay, well regardless, getting rid of those infernal creatures was still quite thoughtful of you. If they follow up with their priests, they can destroy any more of those idols, and everyone around here will be safe.”
He scoffed.
“I mean, if you think about it, you’re sort of a hero to these people, and—”
“Have you forgotten already that you’re the vessel of a talisman that renders you helpless to me, and that I’ll be killing you later to fetch it out?”
Amma’s shoulders drooped, and it was her turn to knit her brow.
“If you would like that death to be swift and painless, I would suggest not insulting me with words likethoughtfulandhero.” He took another turn where the estates were even farther apart from one another. It didn’t appear they were headed back into town, but they weren’t headed for the road either, and evening was slowly falling all around them.
Amma huffed. It wasn’t meant to be an insult, but the finality to his voice told her there would be no convincing him otherwise. “Where are we going?”
He took a few more long strides she had to hurry to keep up with, and then stopped. “Here, I suppose, is good enough.”
Damien turned to face a garden with high walls of sandy-colored brick covered in thick ivy. It stood alone, the closest estate set far off from the quiet path they had taken away from the main road, and the entrance they faced looked disused. They hadn’t passed a villager in some time, and the sounds of evening had come out, crickets chirping in competing tones and a loon somewhere far off called into the setting dusk.
Damien stepped forward through the arch in the garden wall, its gate falling open at an angle. Though the exterior was sprawling, it looked uncared for, a corner of some lord’s too-lofty estate, tucked away and forgotten.
“Um, this looks private,” Amma said, standing at the arch and peeking in, the knoggelvi mimicking her from behind.
The path that led inward was overgrown, flat stones for walking along were hemmed in at their edges with dainty, white flowers. They led to a tree with a thick trunk that spun around itself and branches crawling overhead, gnarled to look just like its roots.
“Whoa, that is one beautiful calpurnica.” Amma knew the tree, from both the look of it and the scent of its early-autumn blossoms, a sage green flower that was only slightly lighter than its thick leaves, of which would last into early winter. The cover was thick and sprawling and cast the entrance to the garden even darker.
Damien eyed her for a moment then swept through, seeming to take no notice of the ancient tree or the wild lilac bushes fighting for dominance with the cornflowers and knapweeds that tried to choke them back. Equally, he seemed unconcerned that this was where neither of them belonged. Into the shadows he went, Kaz scurrying along at his heels, and Amma followed before she completely lost sight of him in the overgrown garden.
CHAPTER 18
TRADE DEALS, TARIFFS, AND TRANSLOCATION
Damien pulled the idol from his pocket again. It was maybe the third time since they’d left the Stormwing manor, but he knew himself well enough: his patience wouldn’t hold up, not even long enough for them to get out of town first. He had to know for sure, and he had to knownow.
The garden was deserted and walled. It wouldn’t protect from infernal arcana, but he hadn’t seen a single guard wandering amongst the estates, holy or otherwise. A mistake on their part, but then he had taken care of their Abyssal problem, even if they didn’t know they had it. Amma was right about that at the least, though it was just an aftereffect of his true goal.
There was a sparse patch of ground ahead, and Damien took a look around. The walls were set far off but high; one would need to stand on the roof of the closest estate to see inside, and the place was so ill-kept he doubted anyone would. As the sky shifted to deeper blue, he placed the half of the idol on the ground, his smear of blood still across it. Spent blood lost its magic quickly, a lucky thing for blood mages who were so cavalier with the stuff. It was only through arcane means of preservation that their inherent magic could linger in a droplet or smear, and that needed to be done immediately.
Damien moved to slice his finger once again on his dagger, but stopped. No. This would take much more blood than that.
He tugged down his tunic and cut into his chest this time, cold metal against skin still hot from the succubus, both from fighting her and…the other thing she’d done. Perhaps it was foolish to cast now, after expending so much arcana already, but the thought was a moment too late into the commitment. And this was no time to show weakness, especially with that embarrassment back in the bedchamber.
Succubi weren’t typically formidable, and had he just cut through that Stormwing boy, he could have taken down the one who had gotten to him, but spending the time to expel the possession allowed that infernal creature to see too deeply into him and exploit the thing he wanted.
Being too careful with that human also put him right in harm’s way. That wasn’t how Damien did things, but when he saw Amma there in the corner, watching him hold a dagger to such a weak and possessed man, he felt compelled to show mercy, like he was the one embedded with an enthrallment talisman.
And weakness always followed weakness. Pinned down under the succubus, Damien had fallen under its charm, briefly but dangerously, and when he looked up, he hadn’t actually seen the infernal creature atop him. Ubi creatures showed their victims forms and faces they believed would entice them, and Damien was embarrassed to admit she had looked like Amma for a moment. It was because the woman was in the room, of course, an easy target for the succubus to copy, but that visage had stripped away any desire for him to hurt the thing. And that was disadvantageous.
Damien shook his head, placing a hand over the cut on his chest before it healed. Hot blood seeped up between his fingers, but this cast would be different, not fast, not defensive. This was ritualistic, this was searching, feeling, calling. The idol had told Damien almost everything he needed to know—it had been turned into a gateway for purely infernal creatures. Like Kaz, when a succubus was killed, she returned to the infernal plane and would have to be summoned again in order to pass into the realm. But they needed someone to do the summoning.
The bit of wood cracked, and a red glow emanated from it. Damien cocked his head. Typically it was only a sigil that would pass through, a marker that would tell him who cast the initial spell, writing itself across the vessel for a moment before being swept away for good. No sigil showed itself, but instead, the bits of wood broke away from one another as the ground rumbled and tore itself apart. Damien took one step back, hearing Amma gasp behind him.
