I look at him suspiciously, and he rolls his eyes. “Are we not going to be spending all our time together for the immediate future regardless? If I wanted access to you for nefarious purposes, surely I have that already.”
That’s fair. Maybe that’s the real reason he started this conversation—to work through the awkwardness of new partnership before we’re tested in the field.
And anyway, given the truth, the answer to where I live doesn’t matter. “Nowhere really. I travel too much for it to make sense to pay for an apartment anywhere. I just get set up wherever I go. Where doyoulive?”
I lean his seat back with magic, and he leans mine forward.
It’s a good thing we’re cloaked, or the next few minutes of our seats moving constantly would attract someone’s attention.
“A realm called Makora,” Nariel finally tells me. “It’s filled with spires of obsidian that, once upon a time, spirits there used magic to shape and hollow into living spaces. Now that so little magic is available, we live in what spirits generations ago made. At least,” he adds sardonically, “overpopulation is not a concern.”
Because there’s too little magic in Dark Earth to support expansion. Oof.
I add more lightly, “So am I to assume you have the tallest spire in all of Makora, then?”
He smirks, this time liftingmein my seat and bouncing me. Motherfucker. I automatically reach for too big of a spell and have to scramble for something smaller, poking at him a thousand times with little pricks of magic gradually increasing in intensity before he drops me back down with a plop.
I can’t wait for the limitation about not doing large magic so High Earth can’t track me to be rendered moot. Practicingreaching for small spells is probably especially important for me, given how much of my training wasnotthat, which by now Nariel no doubt understands.
So we get to play and train—and get a sense for each other’s style—at the same time.
Nariel is a sneaky motherfucker, and I’d do well to remember that. His slipperiness isn’t just magical.
“Naturally,” Nariel says blandly, and it takes me a second to remember what I asked. That he occupies the tallest spire in a whole realm of Dark Earth, right.
“How didyouget set up in spirit world?“ I ask.
He smirks lazily, but this time it doesn’t look like real amusement to me—this is a façade. “Why, I killed my way to the top, of course. That’s how things are done in Dark Earth, and no one takes other forms of strength seriously without that foundation.”
Aha. Right. “Yes, yes, you’re one dangerous dude, message received.” I pat his arm placatingly.
There’s an instant where he’s totally frozen, staring at me in disbelief, and it occurs to me only belatedly that we have not previously touched, and I have no idea how he feels about that and should not have assumed casual contact is unproblematic for him.
Then in the next instant Nariel snorts, magically brushing my arm off him. And we go back and forth moving my own arm about a few times until I’m struggling to respond because I’m laughing too hard and he’s barely containing himself too.
When we resolve that, the silence that settles between us is—not uncomfortable, exactly, but expectant. We broke off a conversation we weren’t finished with.
I backtrack to safer waters and say, “Anyway, there’s a wizard who can get to Heathrow pretty quickly that I think will help me. But I need to get his contact info and, you know, contact him.”
“And that’s why we’re going to such an obvious place as Stonehenge, when there are other power spots?”
We need three power spots, and I’m spreading them out around the world. I’ll set up one for Europe and Africa, one for the Americas, and one for Asia and Australia. All of those places have multiple options for power spots, but they’re not all equal for what I need from them.
“The UK government is a disaster right now, but Stonehenge is still very well protected and that’s unlikely to change,” I explain. “It will make it harder for High Earth mages to get to the nexus once I’ve set it up, them lacking a stealth demon of their own.” High Earth has its own stealth spells, of course, but they would require setup, and someone on-site would notice.
“You will need a deterrent against them acquiring a stealth demon of their own, then,” Nariel points out.
I nod. “Good point. Thanks, I’ll work that in.” A block against the magic of a bound spirit is something I’ve done before, and I can add that easily.
I can’t really block against all unbound spirits’ magic, but that’s a much lower risk since it would be counter to their interests. Blackmail obviously exists, but High Earth isn’t directly connected to Dark Earth, so that would be much harder for them to set up.
Nariel cocks his head. “You’re not going to ask me to handle it? A demon prince at your behest?”
My surprise is genuine. “Of course not. I don’t need to bring either of us any more trouble in the form of angels. I said you were here for stealth only. Did you think I didn’t mean it?”
His gaze searches mine, so clearly the answer to that isyes.
I have to remember that whatever my history, he has hundreds more years of being hunted by people he once considered comrades, and by people trying to survive the same oppression he faces.
