Damien had never heard Xander refer to his mother in such a way, and he was sure he never would again. He didn’t even bother to knock Xander’s hand away.
“So, yes, I suppose I’ve briefly considered why I am what I am, half human, and what that means, and it’s this: humanity is a necessity solely to be free from enslavement. Otherwise, we’re just demons, Damien, and we’re meant for evil, nothing else.”
Damien just stared back at him. It wasn’t a conversation, it was never going to be, it was simply Xander’s truth. “It must be nice to have it all figured out.”
“Until you understand that, we won’t really be the same,” said Xander, sighing wistfully, more gently placing his hand on Damien’s chest and giving him a pat. “That’s why you always end up losing.”
A blast of cold arcana caught Damien in the chest and knocked him to the ground. Pain seared up his back, and he lay there, coughing, the sound of Xander’s laughter echoing out into the hall as he walked away.
CHAPTER 7
THE CREATION OF A THOUSAND FORESTS CAN BE IN ONE ACORN, BUT THAT ACORN CAN STILL FALL ON ONE’S HEAD
When the door to the parlor opened, Amma jumped to her feet. She’d been sitting on the edge of the couch, worrying the binding of the Lux Codex with sweaty fingers, and Kaz had been pacing at her feet silently, doing his best to ignore her even as he consistently checked that she was still there.
Damien stood in the doorway, taken aback as if he hadn’t expected her to be waiting. His hair was mussed, and there was blood spattered on his chest, his hands, and his cheek.
“What happened?” she breathed, held to the spot.
He took stock of himself, then closed the door behind him, shrugging. “Xander and I got into a bit of a scrap.”
Amma abandoned the Lux Codex on the sofa and went to him. “Let me take a look at that.”
“No.” Damien caught her hand before it could reach him, holding it tightly. She would have pulled back if she hadn’t missed his touch so much. “I’ll heal as I always do. This is nothing.”
“But—”
“You should be resting.” He released her as if he’d been burnt and eased out from between her and the door to head for his chamber. “We’re leaving early tomorrow.”
Amma glanced back at Kaz who gave her a smirk and followed after Damien only to have the chamber door shut in his face. Amma waited there, hoping he might come back, but there was only wind buffeting the tower windows and the popping of the blue fire to fill up the silence left behind. Frustrated, she grabbed the Lux Codex, and went to her own room, the knot in her stomach tightening so that she wondered if it would ever come undone.
But when she woke the next morning, she was determined, and requested clothing appropriate for travel from one of the nicer shadow imps. Dressed in a comfortable tunic with a leather vest over top that laced up the front and was particularly flattering, and a pair of tight, knee-length breeches that allowed her to strap her silver dagger over instead of against her skin as she’d been doing, she felt a boost in her confidence. She’d also managed to acquire a new belt with a set of pockets. There wasn’t storage large enough on it for the Lux Codex, so she left it in the parlor with the shroud beside it, but did still have the raven feather Damien had given her in Elderpass, and the shard of pottery from the upturned cart in Faebarrow—those she had squirreled away inside her dress the night of the banquet, and she was glad for the reminder of a time before as she kept them close to her still.
They set out on foot over the Accursed Wastes, hoods up as it was drizzling again. Amma offered Kaz a ride on her shoulder to hide from the rain, but he only sneered at her and walked along behind them, dripping and grumbling instead. Xander and Damien walked at either of her sides, and without the Lux Codex on her, both could get close, though the strangeness of the Wastes kept Amma from minding the proximity. They were accompanied the entire way by shadow imps that flitted about at their sides, barely seen, but their presences ever ominous.
Half a day’s walk through the cloudy Wastes brought them to a gate that stood in the middle of nothing. The storm had abated, but the land about it was still cracked and dry, and it went on in every direction forever, it seemed, broken by small copses of trees or rock outcroppings and not much else. The gate was tall and made of a twisted metal, thin bars wrapping around one another, but was connected to no kind of fence. It stood closed, but to nothing—one could simply walk around it.
Xander went up to its center where the doors came together, half a circular pattern on each side meeting in the middle, and put a hand at the convergence. There was a burst of arcane energy that rattled through the metal bars, crackling over it and down into the ground. The doors swung open, away from them, and a dark image formed on the other side, illuminated just at its edges from the Waste’s low lights to show rocky walls. Xander walked through without a word, only a satisfied glance back.
Damien clicked his tongue. “Yes, yes, I’m sure your mother is very proud ofherwork.”
Xander scoffed, flicking off his hood as his figure stalked into the dark.
“He didn’t make that; the translocation is even more advanced than what he can do,” Damien told Amma. “Plus this portal’s older than him by at least five centuries.”
She smiled warily but said nothing—Damien speaking to her was welcome, even if it was to belittle Xander, and she didn’t want to ruin it. The two of them followed, Kaz and a small group of shadow imps trailing after.
On the gate’s other side, the air was cooler, the dampness different. A gentle glow of light silhouetted Xander’s form ahead of them. He was removing his wet cloak as he walked, and they did the same, reaching the end of the rocky tunnel to step out into a dense wood.
Amma glanced back at the opening they’d come through, an eerie cave built into a rocky outcropping in the wood. It gave her a chill just to look on it even though she’d just walked through, something telling her to stay away. That was likely by design. But there was gentle birdsong in the trees and wind in the leaves, and it seemed at least some of her unease was left on the other side of the tunnel.
Xander took a deep breath of the forest, squinting into the sunlight that streamed through the branches, then made an exaggerated retching sound. “About two days that direction, and we’ll be in Durendreg. It’s a shithole, but we won’t be spending any real time there.”
Amma didn’t recognize the name, and that likely meant it was outside of Eiren’s borders. The Accursed Wastes certainly were, and even though they’d gone through a portal that translocated them, there were still a lot of places that weren’t protected by the crown.
“Are you intending on ever telling us what we’re going after? Or how we’re meant to do it?” Damien ran a hand through his hair, damp despite the hood, and brushed it out of his face. The look he was giving Xander wasn’t friendly, but seeing him under the dim sunlight and not glowering and depressed made Amma’s heart hitch. She remembered him out on the road not so long ago and hoped their new surroundings might inspire him to return to who he had been before Xander’s tower.
“There’s a temple, tucked away in Durendreg, and every fifty or so years they devote a new sacred vessel to their goddess,” said Xander as if they should have known. He eyed Amma a moment, then went on. “The newest one was just created, and I want it, so that’s what we’re fetching. I’m sure Yannveceny won’t mind.”
