Chapter 4
Nathaniel and I watch each other from across the clearing.
“Watch” is an empty word for it. We’re notwary, exactly, or sizing each other up. It’s that moment when you’re both poised on a knife’s edge, the moment in sharp focus, each an instant away from making a move that will plunge you into a contest of magic and wits against an opponent worth the effort.
I love moments like this. I thrive on them.
It’s a pity I have to break it, but my intuition tells me fighting won’t serve me in this instance.Orhim.
Also, I saw how fast Nathaniel broke Destien’s wand, and Destien was not exactly not on alert. And I’d strongly prefer to keep my new one.
“So,” I say, back in English again. “Should I still call you Nathaniel?”
He studies me. “That depends on you.”
Too many things that could mean. “I don’t suppose you could be more specific?”
He snorts but to my surprise clarifies promptly, “Do you still want to associate with me?”
How could I possibly have enough information to make that judgment? It’s not really what he means, though. I think.
“I was already aware that you were probably a spirit, but now I’m thinking you might be a little higher up the food chain than I’d realized. Is that going to cause me more problems than I already have?”
Nathaniel has gone still. “You knew?”
“I’m not stupid,” I remind him dryly.
It sometimes feels like I have spent a lot of my life reminding people of this, in both worlds. I never fit neatly into what people expect from me, but it isn’t—usually—because I don’t understand what they think I should be.
In this case I clarify, “The timing of your initial appearance could only mean so many things.”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” Shadows swirl in his eyes, and he looks coiled, like more hinges on my answer to this than I know.
That’s not impossible, honestly. I know a reasonable amount about the politics of High Earth—or at least, I knew how they worked ten years ago. But while some specific things will have shifted, given how long-lived grand magi are, the broad strokes will be similar.
But I don’t know much about politicsbetweenthe worlds, and I have just dropped myself into them with all the subtlety of a nuclear bomb.
A powerful spirit who keeps an eye on portals in Low Earth and is willing to intervene in a fight between mages not only knows more than me for certain, he’s also probably my best source for advice. No High Earth mage is going to help me, no human in Low Earth knows more than me, angels don’t come here, and most other spirits wouldn’t risk themselves. They keep out of the way of humans—I haven’t met one in years.
So I take another risk.
I lower my wand.
Then I stop watching him and go about my business.
I can still cast from this position, but this is... symbolic, and my heartbeat pounds loudly in my ears.
I talk over it.
“When I realized I couldn’t trust everything I learned in High Earth, I gradually taught myself to question anything they taught me. You know they believe you’re a lower lifeform, but they believe that of me, too. You just helped me when you didn’t have to, and I’m not about to look a gift-demon in the mouth, as it were.”
Nathaniel obligingly bares his teeth at me, and I bark a sudden laugh.
My heartbeat doesn’t slow down, but it’s a little easier to breathe.
“If you become my enemy, I’ll fight you,” I tell him. “I’m hardly going to lie down and allow you to kill me either. But I’m not going to assume you’re my enemy until you’ve taken action against me. Right now, I don’t know of any spirits or demons that fit that bill.”
Nathaniel goes still. “And angels?”
