“It’s not an ice cream cone, mate,” Ezra said. “They’re not edible.”
“Come on, you pay some attention,” Leah said. This was how all conversations went at the Lyceum: students talking over and under each other, three conversations at once. Luckily, I’d been trained by having three sisters. “There’s a treaty. It gets renewed every twenty years.”
“No offense,” Daziel said smugly, “but I think your lot pays far more attention to us than we do to you.”
I almost grinned at how pleased he sounded. Of course we paid attention! Demons were magical and rare! I didn’t want to givehim the satisfaction of impressingmeso easily, though, so I rolled my eyes. He grinned back.
“You’re a wild demon, though,” Ezra said. “Do you know what’s going on with the magic? It’s the natural-world magic that’s off, not letterform. Wild demons are close to the natural world, right?”
Leah turned to Daziel sharply. “Doyou know? Because if the rains and winds continue to be unpredictable, it could affect my family’s silk harvest.Everyfamily’s harvest. My parents are freaking out.”
“Shedim don’t control natural magic,” Daziel said, his voice gentle. “Natural magic is controlled by the primordial beasts. I’m sorry.”
Our waitress came over, a beleaguered woman who must have subsisted on her irritation at students, because it certainly wasn’t on tips. “You lot buying anything else?”
“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight, Sophie?” Ezra said.
She regarded him stonily. “You need to purchase something if you want to keep sitting here.”
“We’ll get mixed nuts. You arestunning, Sophie.”
“You need to get more than mixed nuts.”
“Two orders of mixed nuts?”
“Out,” Sophie said.
“Sophie, we have ademonwith us,” Ezra said, as though sayingplease let us stay.
Sophie examined Daziel. She did not look impressed. “And is the demon paying for food?”
Daziel smiled. “I am happy to.” He pulled at the obsidian-black nail on his pinkie. Blood welled up in the bed as the nail began to detach.
Good lord. Was he serious? Nails were not an acceptable form of currency, and I didn’t want to be responsible for bits of demon floating around the black market. I batted Daziel’s shoulder, and he turned to me, startled, letting go of his nail.
“He is most definitely not,” I said firmly. “Sorry! We’re leaving now.” I dragged Daziel out of the pub behind me. Maybe it would be more work than I thought, managing this demon.
Eight
As I walked to theKeep a little more than two weeks later, I kept noticing the result of the birds’ absence. Beetles everywhere. A disconcerting number of cobwebs. The lack of birdsong I hadn’t realized I expected.
I reached the Keep, climbing swiftly to the fifth floor. Paz accompanied me. Daziel was at knockball practice, having taken to the game immediately—he’d announced after his first practice he planned to become a professional player. Who would have expected a demon to be so sporty?
Paz, on the other hand, was not charmed. He disliked all the running around, preferring to stay curled on someone’s shoulder, so on knockball days he stayed with me.
No one else was in the scroll room; it was six, and while I often ran into the others at odd times, it wasn’t unusual to be here alone. We all came as our schedules allowed. I bent over the replicated fragments, moving them round and round. So many of them looked identical—how could we manually match them together? Surely a spell would be better, if only we could get one to work. But despite every attempt, we’d come no closer the whole time I’d been at the Lyceum.
I shifted a few fragments, then sat back with a sigh, gazing outthe window. To the west, the Lersach River ran dark green, and on the far shore, the vineyards and mulberry trees of the silk farms rippled in the wind. I stroked Paz’s head. He snoozed gently, little rings of smoke rising from his snout.
When I looked back at the scrolls, the fragments I’d grouped together had separated. I blinked. How was that possible? I must have only thought I’d put them together. I tried again, then moved to a different section. When I looked back, my earlier attempts had been undone.
Was I losing my mind? What was going on?
As I worked, wind howled past the windows, rain smacking big, loose droplets against the glass. I bent my head closer to the parchment, then glanced at the windows—all tightly closed. No way for any wind to slip inside.
So why did I now feel it swirling around my ankles, tugging at my feet? I looked down, baffled. It felt like the wind was inside me, blowing me toward the door. Urging me to go outside.
I hesitated.
