“You’re just small,” he groused, strong enough, apparently, to talk back, but not enough to actually walk.
“Where’s Kaz?” She heaved him toward the door with all her might. “Can’t he get all big and carry you?”
“That,” said Damien, scuffing back up to his feet and wobbling, “is for a future discussion when our lives are not in peril.”
Behind him, a tendril struck out, headed just for the two, but the last bit of Damien’s energy seemed to run out and he fell forward, landing on Amma, and they both tumbled into the frigid darkness.
CHAPTER 36
SUMMONED TO YVLCON
Amma’s body ached, Damien’s full weight atop her and not at all in the way she would have preferred as he was unconscious and bleeding, but at least the dread that had firmly placed itself at the base of her spine had gone. She touched his face and whispered his name, wiggling out from under him while gently flipping him over. Damien was still breathing, and he made a sort of sound, enough to tell her he was alive, and she glanced about to see where they’d ended up.
The small chamber was silent, a stark contrast to the chaos of where they had just been, and doused in a blue light from crystals affixed along the base of the stone walls. There were relief sculptures carved on the surfaces, scenes of war, it seemed, of great destruction and death and mayhem, so she tried to not look on them for too long. The ground was also covered in carvings, and the two were in the center of a circle of sorts, symbols at even intervals along it that could have been Chthonic but somehow prettier. But there was no pit of darkness trying to eat them, and so she breathed a relieved sigh and wiped a hand over her face and through the tangle that was her hair.
With a low creak, a dull light flooded the room, and Amma straightened. A hidden door swung open from the wall, and a figure appeared in it, low to the ground with long limbs and big ears.
“Kaz?” She pushed up onto her knees, hopeful.
The creature stepped fully into the blue lights, and while it was almost definitely an imp with bulbous eyes and swirling horns, this one had maroon skin, better teeth, and much knobbier elbows than Kaz. It did, however, give her the same disapproving look she’d come to associate with imps.
“Late arrival,” it said in a voice that creaked like a chain in the wind. “Who are you?”
“Um…” Amma looked down at Damien’s still form, covered in blood and mud and bruises, then thrust the crumpled bit of parchment in her hands toward the imp.
He scowled at her even deeper but waddled up to take it. “Bloodthorne,” he murmured to himself as he snapped his fingers and a slate appeared in his hand. Running a claw down it as he mumbled the name to himself again, the sound was terrible as it screeched into the chamber, and even Damien’s passed-out form winced.
“Ah, right here, Damien Mal—wait, really? What didthisto a blood mage?” The imp dropped the slate, and it disintegrated before it could shatter against the floor.
It was really too much to explain, so Amma just shrugged.
“I need a priest!” the imp called back through the door, crossing his arms and continuing to glare at her. He waved the scroll in hand. “The summons didn’t mention a minion.”
Amma opened her mouth, not sure what to say to that, but a figure appeared behind the imp, and she gasped instead. Slithering in on a serpent’s body as thick around as a human’s torso, the creature loomed well above them all, a long, thin tongue poking out from beneath the hood it wore. Her instinct was to reach for the crossbow that was no longer on her back, feeling for nothing as the creature slithered further into the room and went for Damien.
“Don’t you dare,” she growled, throwing herself over him.
Damien’s hand twitched up against her leg, tapping her. “It’s all right,” he mumbled from beneath her, and hesitantly, she backed away just enough, eyes tracked on the snake-man.
He reached human-enough arms covered in patches of scales out from his robe and lay them on Damien’s chest. Amma gnawed at her lip, entwining her fingers with Damien’s and squeezing so he would know she was there. Arcana pulsed through him, and all at once the blood mage shot up like waking from a bad dream, breathing heavy, eyes wide.
“Amma,” he husked out, “where are—” His free hand flailed, falling on her and grabbing tight, and then he blinked up at the hooded priest and the imp. The two creatures were still, the imp’s features twisted up in confusion, and then Damien pulled both hands back from her, cleared his throat, and set his face stony. “Zagadoth the Tempestuous sends his dark regards to the Grand Order.”
The snake-man fell into a bow and then slithered back out of the room. The imp nodded at Damien, but was much more curt. “And the Grand Order begrudgingly accepts. But you’re still late, and you are only registered as one. If you would remain here, Lord Bloodthorne, I will see to proper quarters and…approval. It will be but a few moments.”
The imp bowed, awkward and put upon, and backed out of the room, the door sinking smoothly into the wall and leaving the two alone again in the small chamber.
“Oh, bloody, fucking Abyss.” Damien dragged a hand down his face, slumping forward then turned to Amma. The coldness he’d injected into his features was gone when he looked on her, replaced with something else, something she wasn’t used to seeing. “Amma, are you all right?”
She glanced down at herself, clothes torn, covered in mud and blood, skin beginning to bruise. But she was alive, and, most importantly, she was with him. “I think so.”
Though he looked as though he didn’t quite believe her, he nodded. “Things are about to be…” He swallowed and licked his lips, eyes darting around the room. “How can I explain?”
She looked about too, not seeing what it was he searched for. “Maybe you can tell me where we are?”
“If only I knew. This is where the Grand Order converges, but they’re never clear where exactly it is. I’m not even sure what plane we’re on.” He struggled to his feet, and she did as well, grabbing onto him in case he wavered. Damien collected himself though, and then took her by the wrists, pulling her hands off of him. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
