Estelle looked taken aback. “Aren’t you going to visit me once I’m married? It’s only a day by coach.”
“Oh.” It was Archie’s turn to be off-kilter. “I mean, yes of course. If you want me there. I just—”hadn’t realized you wanted to spend time with me.He didn’t say it, because he felt foolish enough already, but he wasn’t fast enough to stop himself thinking it. “I just assumed you’d be busy. Spending time with your newhusbandand all that.”
“Archie!” Estelle’s face pinkened, and she swatted at him with her unmatching gloves. “I mean after the honeymoon of course.”
“Of course,” he said, and let himself smile. He hadn’t done that around her for a while, he realized. Not since she’d successfully gotten engaged and he was still stuck with their mother’s matchmaking efforts, even though it was hardly Estelle’s fault. She grinned back.
Archie penned his replies as soon as she left.There, he thought rather viciously at a non-existent Charlie,I have friends. Or half-wilted seedlings of friendship that were coming back to life after being neglected, at least. It was a start. He grabbed his books and headed out, not wanting to be stuck here when Charlie’s guests started arriving, and made sure to tip Nell off that a large group would be descending on the servants shortly.
The palace libraries were scarcely populated at this time of year. In the spring and summer, the large windows would be thrown open and people might gather under the flowering trees with a view of the rose gardens, but in the winter it was dark early and cold aside from the few chairs huddled around the fireplace. Archie claimed one and set to work on his books.
He’d never really been a keen scholar, always more interested in his daydreams and the pulpy fiction novels that were passed around among his friends rather than the histories or philosophies. But perhaps it was the way the demonology books were written, like the diaries of an adventurer exploring a new world, that he managed to engross himself in them.
It was difficult to tell how much time had passed when the sun set in the afternoon these days, but at some point Archie found himself turning and shifting on the armchair, trying to find a comfortable position. Everything felt slightly uncomfortable, a bloated ache similar to the feeling of overeating. Everything felt swollen and slightly too large for his skin, and he grimaced as he realized he also had an unexpected reaction between his legs.
The library was still empty, so he discreetly moved his book up his lap and reached down to adjust himself. It happened often enough when he was an adolescent, sometimes with a stray thought or a sudden change in temperature, but much less frequently now.
What are you doing?Archie thought out of his mental tower at Damaris when he finally realized it wasn’t coming from him. Now he was aware of it, the demon’s presence in his mind felt too large, as if he were pushing up against the back of Archie’s eyeballs. A disgusting visual, and one he quickly tried to dismiss.
Feeding. Damaris sent Archie a thought. Not an image, but an impression of colors and energy and weight. Archie’s mind struggling to make sense of it. This must have been that extra sense of magic that Damaris talked about, that demons had and humans did not, overlaid on his own vision. The tickle of it on his skin made the hairs on his arm prickle.
Is this what you see all the time?asked Archie, fascinated. The fire was energy, a crackling buzzing thing in the side of his vision, but he could somehow differentiate it from magic. When he looked down, there was an aura surroundinghimself flickering from blue-black to the bright blue of a gas flame, which must be what Prince Ixthan could see of Damaris. And there was another sense of energy, muffled.
Archie squinted, following it until he hit the wall. Apparently brick was no barrier for magic, because whatever he could sense came from the other side of the wall, in whichever room backed up against the library. This moved, and then he realized it was two separate energies, intertwining until they often appeared as one. Archie gasped when he finally realized what it must be, recoiling and closing his eyes. Except he’d forgotten it wasn't sight, it was this other sense entirely and Archie could still see it inside his head.
Stop it!He pleaded, and the impression dropped away. Archie opened his eyes and shuddered. He was still alone in the library, looking at the blank wall next to the fireplace, except now he knew there were people on the other side. He felt repulsed, knowing that he was was violating their privacy even though anyone sensible shouldn't be doing that in such a public place anyway.
Were you... feeding on them?Archie felt vaguely sick, thinking back to his conversation with Prince Ixthan.I thought you only fed on me. Isn't that part of the deal?
Is it?Damaris sounded genuinely puzzled. Archie wished he'd been more in his right mind when he'd made that deal and could remember it more clearly.That would have killed you.
Archie's gut clenched.What do you mean?!
A jumble of thoughts landed in Archie's mind all at the same time, a crush of images and thoughts that took him a moment to sift through. An impression again of Damaris the first time he'd managed to pass into the mortal realm, weak and existing only as a sliver of magic. The memories were vague, more of an impression than an image since Damaris himself barely had a consciousness back then, but he'd drifted in the wind until he managed to slide into the body of an animal, and then another, until he finally found the shadow of a farmer who carried him into the city, where he'd discovered the overwhelming scent of humans all around.
Except without his magic, Damaris wasn’t strong enough to even feed properly so he drifted along as a shadow. He relied on dribs and drabs of emotion he sensed from passing humans, soaking them up whenever they crossed his path. Humans desiredso much. From there, he gained the ability to move himself, siphoning up the energy from any desire that dipped into his shadow until he came across a better meal.
His timing was fortunate, the Season had started, with new faces being introduced at court and young people keen to match, everyone who had summered in the countryside suddenly back and excited to reconnect with their friends. Damaris hadn't known their purpose then, nor could he make sense of what was happening since he didn't understand the human language, but he had gravitated towards these parties like a sunflower following the sun.
Over time, he absorbed enough that his memories returned and his sentience sharpened, allowing him to puzzle out the sounds that humans made and connect it into language. His magic powers were still weak, but humans were easilyinfluenced, he found. Archie flushed at that, detaching himself from the bundle of thoughts to stew in his own indignation and embarrassment for a moment.
The curiosity got the better of him though, so Archie firmly put his own discomfort aside and dived back into the memories. Damaris had discovered that it was easy to ignite desire in humans, or perhaps his magic responded more potently in this realm than in his own, so he had only had to stretch out here and there. He would flick a little whisper or thought that the human was inclined to think already, encouraging it like a gardener with a seedling.
What are the different colors?asked Archie, trying to distract himself from thinking too much about seeing other people in such a state, some of whom he recognized even though the warped perspective of Damaris viewing them through a shadow.
Damaris’s weight changed in Archie’s mind – a frown.Humans separate different energies in ways we do not distinguish. And we too separate energies in ways humans do not distinguish.He brought up several memories of fires, lamps, lanterns, which all glowed a hazy orange.You call this heat.Another set of images, this time of humans all with a multitude of different auras superimposed on them. Damaris stopped, as if he was struggling to explain it in concepts that would make sense to Archie, and then seemed to switch tack.
Archie cringed back so hard the armchair rocked slightly on its back legs as numerous images of himself from Damaris's perspective flicked through his mind like pages of a book. All of them were from some distorted angle, depending on whetherDamaris had been watching him from a shadow on the ground or the reflection of a window somewhere. He could place a fair few in his recollection from the clothing he’d been wearing or the weather or some other identifying detail. Even though he'd already confirmed that Damaris had been watching him much earlier than Archie knew, it was still a jolt to see it so blatantly before him.
In each of them, Archie was a patchwork of different colors. Except the more images Damaris showed him, the more Archie noticed a pattern. Even when there were more energies coming from him, there was always an underlay of blue and purple, deep and rich. Everything else, the reds and greens and golds, came and went, but through it all, he was stained blue-purple in Damaris's vision.
All of them feed me, but I like the taste of this the most, said Damaris, indicating the purple.
Is this… desire?
Hunger, yes. For people. There are many desires, said Damaris.
Archie barely allowed himself to think the word. Even in the privacy of his mind to a demon who already knew it, it felt too much. He whispered it.Sexual desire.
