The blood mages stared at one another, both utterly baffled, but the ire in the air fell away.
Diana blew out a sigh, shoulders relaxing. Sword left plunged into the ground, she wandered passed the burnt carpeting where the tear into the infernal plane had been, around Archibald’s body and the pool of his blood, and didn’t glimpse at Xander as she took to the stairs. The wall at the top of the platform had been torn away, and she entered the room beyond.
Amma was tugged along as Damien followed her, pointing to Xander as they went. “This isn’t finished,” he grumbled, but the blood mage only stuck out his tongue in response.
Inside the vault, Diana stood with her hand on what looked like a massive ruby, a human-shaped shadow inside. “I’m sorry,” she said to it. “I wasn’t strong enough.”
Amma released Damien’s hand, and he went to stand beside her. “Well, we can chip a piece of it off again, and TheBrotherhood can enchant it so that we can at least talk to him in Aszath Koth.”
“That would be nice,” she said with a sigh, and the two stood before where Amma could only assume Zagadoth was trapped amongst broken glass and blood and dashed hope.
“Hey, uh, which one of you killed my father?”
In the wrecked entry to the vault, a very young, opulently-dressed woman with ginger hair and an awe-struck look stood. Amma swore under her breath and then scurried up to her, did half a curtsy, and then huffed, not bothering. “Princess Isabella,” she said, clearing her throat. “We’re truly sorry for your loss, but it was a demon who struck down King Archibald. And, uh, in vengeance, Priestess Diana has slain her.” She held out an arm, gesturing vaguely to Damien’s mother.
The princess didn’t really seem to care though. “I’ve never been allowed in here before,” she marveled, glass crunching below her feet as she wandered in. “He only ever let in Iggy, not me.”
Amma stayed at her side. “Um, wearesorry about your father,” she repeated carefully.
“Oh, yeah, well, he was a jerk.” She lifted a broken crystal from a pedestal, looking it over. “This plan of his wassostupid, I’m not surprised it killed him.”
Amma, Damien, and Diana traded awkward glances.
“Hey, you have your father’s abilities, right?” Amma hopped in front of her and drew her attention away from the oddities and destruction in the room.
“Yes, not that he ever let me use them,” she scoffed, tossing the broken crystal over her shoulder where it shattered in the rest of the mess.
“You wanna break something else of his?”
It took a few tries, but with a little coaxing and focus, the ruby in the vault cracked and arcana filled the air, dark andcloying and heavy, and then, there was a voice, deeper than the Abyss and rumbling up from the broken stone. “Kiddo?”
It went, of course, exactly as sweetly and strangely as one would imagine a reunion between a demon, a priestess, and their son could go after twenty-three years spent apart, imprisoned, enthralled, and toiling under half-truths. There were tears and embraces and frustrated sighs, and when the demon pulled the priestess into a deep and passionate kiss, Damien retched and covered his face.
Zagadoth was almost what Amma had imagined, about seven-and-a-half feet tall, with spiraling black horns, skin as red as liathau leaves in the heart of autumn, and, just as she predicted, atail.But he was also a delightful surprise: warm, kind, and very good at giving hugs, picking up Amma the moment she was introduced and nearly squeezing the life out of her. Though, Amma supposed, she should have really expected all of those things since Damien was his son, after all.
But soon the sky through the windows in the throne room cleared and those who served in Eirengaard Keep began to venture out into the halls. Winnifred, Laurel, and Pippa had discussed next steps, intending to stay in the city to assist in cleaning things up and clearing names, but it wasn’t exactly what any of them would consider safe for the others to stay.
Xander had not run off, watching the others with a keen eye. He composed himself and revealed a rolled parchment from his pocket. “To Aszath Koth?”
“Where did you get that?” Damien was peering at him dubiously.
“What do you think I was doing in the translocation closet at Yvlcon?” He waved the scroll in his face. “I knew we’d both need a way home after all of this. Don’t worry, I won’t stick around, I have other things to do.”
“Well, I hope you at least stay for dinner,” Diana cut in,and both Damien and Zagadoth grumbled at that, but it seemed there would be no arguing with her, especially once she’d retrieved her sword.
“All right, just a moment,” Damien requested of the others, and he pulled Amma aside and into a shadowy corner of the throne room where it was quiet. He took a deep breath, clasping her hands in his, eyes turned down. “Amma, I am unsure what to say.”
“Well, that’s not like you.”
He chuckled and looked up at her. “I promised to return you to Faebarrow, and I will, but first, would you please come with me to Aszath Koth? It is a dark and dreary place, especially in the winter, and it can be cold and brutal, but I want you to know the truth of it before—”
“Of course I’ll go,” she said, drawing him close, “and I’m going to love it because it’s part of you.”
He grinned that grin that brought such lightness to her heart, that one he never had when they’d first met but had become more frequent yet never common. “And then we’ll go to Faebarrow, I swear it.”
“As long as we’re together,” she said.
“Always,” he promised.
