Damien awkwardly brought the spawn to his shoulder, one hand enough to hold it there. The baby’s tiny hands clumsily pulled at a strap of his armor, and it let out a happy sound as it bit down on the leather.Disgusting, but that was better than crying, he supposed. Its ridiculously small feet were still bare, so he grabbed the turquoise blanket from the basket and bundled it up around the spawn as best he could one handed.
When it seemed to no longer be on the verge of wailing, he went to the opposite side of the room and the set of shelves there filled with religious tomes and a few ledgers. He touched the wall above them, calling out arcana and pressing it into the structure. If there were another way out of the room, his infernal magic would want to escape through it and perhaps they too could use it to flee the temple.
“Look at this,” said Amma, crossing the room to him with a set of scrolls and interrupting his work. “Didn’t Xander say theancast erfindwas already stolen? I think this is what he meant.”
Damien traded the infant off for the scrolls in one deft move before she could protest. Unfurling the parchment, he read a list of names. Beside each one was a small family tree drawn across the page, and additional dotted lines running from one person to another as if pairing them off. Further along the page the names were written in sets, most crossed out, and finally there was a pair circled and a date written below that only nine moons past. He looked up at the infant in Amma’s hands. If he had to guess, it was likely nine moons old.
Though the banging on the door grew, Damien’s thought were suddenly filled with the shard of occlusion crystal in his pocket and, curiously, the last memory of his mother before she disappeared. He shook his head at the terrible timing. “Bloody Abyss, these are its parents, aren’t they?”
Amma nodded, and behind her the door began to splinter.
CHAPTER 9
THE ADVANTAGE IN BEING LITERAL
Damien’s infernal arcana flowed back into the walls of the chamber, hateful and angry. It jerked along, searching for escape, and then began to flood toward a corner of the office. Places like this, they always had second exits, and there, behind a hutch, was a panel that could be lifted off the wall, a winding set of stairs within. He ushered Amma and the baby through then followed, pulling the hutch back in place as best he could but not bothering to be exact. Those banging on the door would know where they’d gone, the two of them simply needed to get out. And he very much wanted to be out.
The temple was making him nauseated now, especially after pumping so much arcana into it. The noxscura wanted to seep out too but much more destructively. For a moment he had let it, and it had felt quite good, but when he cut it off it dangerously prodded at him to be free once again. That wasn’t how arcana was meant to work—it was supposed to be his tool, not use him in return.
At the foot of the tight staircase, they met a wall, but a lever sticking out was simple enough to pull, and with a grinding sound, a passage opened up into a bedchamber, likely where the head priest slept as it was adorned a bit more fancifully than any priest would profess to live.
But it was empty, and after shuffling through it and into a back hall, they found an exit to a courtyard full of thick hedges that kept them hidden until they were free of the temple’s shadow.
A red squirrel jumped down in front of them then recoiled. “How long were you in there?” he hissed in Kaz’s gurgly voice, eyes on the baby in Amma’s arms.
Damien clicked his tongue, the fog in his mind clearing. “Too long. Where’s Xander?”
“The shadow imps have set fire to the southeastern corner of the village, but a lot of them were banished. Xander is parading what’s left through the streets just west of here.” There was a crash from the far side of the temple and a scream.
“He’s still alive, eh?” Not terribly surprised, Damien frowned at the row of residences before them, darkened with no movement through the windows.
Kaz chuckled nervously. “He seems to be having a very good time.”
“To the meeting place,” said Damien, heading off into the alley behind the houses, away from the city center and toward the woody outskirts.
“But Damien.” Amma remained still, holding the baby against her.
“I understand your trepidation, but we may not have a choice,” he said hesitantly. When she still didn’t move, he sighed. “Please, Amma, we should go now.” When he headed off, he could hear her behind him, thankful he didn’t have to use the Chthonic word again.
Traversing the forest was simple enough to wade their way back to where Xander proposed they meet, trading words in hushed but sharp voices about theancast erfindand what to do with it until they came to a dubious agreement.
They waited, Damien pacing slightly, Amma sitting on a fallen log, the bundle in her hands held tight to her chest. Her knee was bouncing despite that he’d told her to calm down multiple times which, of course, only made things worse.
“Ah, you’ve succeeded despite my doubts!” Xander’s voice boomed into the forest, jovial and high as he pushed his way between two ferns.
Amma inhaled sharply, jumping to her feet and glaring at the blood mage.
“Not happy with me, kitten?” Xander’s smile turned down into a playful pout.
“This is unconscionable,” said Amma, and though her voice was shaky, she held firm to the spot. Well, she was certainly jumping right into it, wasn’t she?
“Spare me,” spat Xander.
“You knew,” she said, a fire in her eyes he hadn’t seen before, “and you still want to experiment on him?”
Xander shrugged. “Yes?”
“On ababy?” She was absolutely aghast.
