She gave him a long look then counted off the steps as he requested with her back to him, pressed hands to the sides of her head, and began to hum.
Damien stared at the back of her for a long moment, fingers flexing at his sides, noxscura prickling under his skin. Maybe he should have asked if this was a good idea. She would know, and if she didn’t, she would make him feel good about whatever decision he was about to make. She tipped her head and sighed between hums. She wouldn’t continue humoring him forever, and he knew he needed to just get on with it no matter how messy it would be.
When he brought it out of his pouch, the shard of occlusion crystal had the slightest vibration of arcana thanks to their accidental trip into the depths of the mountains and the weakened veil to the infernal plane. It stared back even without Zagadoth’s eye visible, disapproving of how long it had gone unspoken to, but then he remembered the tautness to the demon’s voice in the message left for him, the worry, thecare, and he pressed his thumb to its sharpest edge and spilled his blood.
A yellow eye blinked to life. It darted from edge to edge, confused, then focused right on Damien. “Damien! You’re alive!”
Damien nodded, guilt squeezing at his chest, unable to speak.
“By all that’s grim and unholy, champ, I’m just so fuckingrelieved. I thought—no, I didn’t think that, I knew you were fine, I just…” Zagadoth sighed, and his eyelid went heavy. “It’s good to see you, kiddo.”
“Yeah,” Damien mumbled, trying to cover the quiver in his voice. “You too.”
“You’re not in danger, are you? I see sky and trees and…and sunlight. Where are you?”
Swallowing hard, Damien ran a hand over his face. “Oh, it’s, uh, just this village south of Eirengaard.”
“South? Took a little detour, eh? Something wrong with the gates to the north?”
“Took a lot of detours actually.” Damien’s head swam with questions, his father’s just adding to them.
“Sure, well, makes sense with divine mages swarming around like butterflies. Abyss, you made it out and back from The Accursed Wastes! Must have traipsed all over. You see basilisks out there? Or how bout a fire roc? You know I don’t believe they’re all dead. You great aunt once—”
“Father, I’m in Orrinshire.”
“Orrinshire?” The demon’s tone practically singed his ears as it shifted. “What in the Abyss are you doingthere?”
The anxiety seeped out of Damien, replaced with a mirrored anger. “I think you know why.”
“Damien Maleficus Bloodthorne, you leave that place immediately!” Zagadoth’s voice was booming, and Damien tried to muffle it under his hand.
“Or what?” he growled back, holding the stone close to his mouth to keep the entire conversation’s tone down.
“Darkness help me, I will break out of this crystal and drag you back to Aszath Koth myself.”
Damien quickly looked up to be sure Amma hadn’t heard. Her head was rocking back and forth as she continued to hum. He grit his teeth. “That better be an absolutely hollow threat or Iswear to the dark gods, I’ll devote myself to Osurehm right now.”
Zagadoth took a breath, but his eye fell still, the anger in it abating for the moment. “Of course it is, Damien,” he said, voice a rumble, “but you stillcannotbe in that Empyreahole of a place.”
The demon’s tone suggested the village was a cesspool of danger, like Damien might be run through or burnt alive, but he had walked its streets, slept in its inn, and was now standing by its roadside without even so much as a dirty look from the inhabitants. And if anyone garnered dirty looks in tiny villages, it was him.
But they both knew it had nothing to do with Orrinshire itself. “I need to ask you something, and for once I need the complete truth.”
Zagadoth’s eye widened, but it did not flick away. “Son, I don’t know if—”
“Dad. Please.”
There was a slight movement in the crystal, something like a nod.
Shallow and ragged in his chest, Damien’s heart pounded so hard that he felt as though air couldn’t pass it, like his body wanted to remain ignorant, too used to pondering and believing he would never, truly know. He took a breath, tensed his muscles, and prepared himself for the worst. “Zagadoth, is it really true that infernal creatures are incapable of love?”
His father’s brow came down, and he choked on a strange, confused sound. “Wha-who…well, that’s not exactly what I expected you to ask.”
And that wasn’t an answer.
“Love,” Damien said a little louder. “Are demons, no—amIcapable of it? You said we can’t feel it, that the infernal plane makes it impossible, and we’re too far removed from the gods and humanity, but I feel…” His voice caught, and he fell quiet,listening, waiting, hoping.
“Look, kiddo, is nowreallythe time to—”
