“Thank you.” Steam wafted off Helspira’s meal like a sentient fog, coiling upward, until it vanished into the sky. She took a bite, mouth still full, as she uttered, “Have you two always been this close?”
Sikras returned to the fire, helped himself to a portion of rabbit, cursed only a few times for burning his fingers, and returned to sit beside Helspira. “I’m not proud to admit I originally sought his company to make introductions with his sister, but he wriggled his way into my heart. It’s no exaggeration to say Benjamin’s the only thing keeping me sane these days.”
“I think anyone who loses their spouse is allowed to go a little insane,” she said with a smile. The sympathy in her eye shifted to irritation. “I’ve known some who went insane for far less.”
“And just like that”—Sikras grinned, scooting closer—“we’ve another story that begs telling. This wouldn’t have anything to do with your acquaintance of an acquaintance, would it?”
“For someone who failed their wizardry apprenticeship, you’re pretty perceptive.”
“Studying people is easier than studying books. What was his name again?”
Helspira squeezed her lips into a tight line before letting out a sigh. “Cecil. He belonged to the same order of wizards as Theodore before he ...”
“Went insane?”
“I think. I don’t know.” With meat in one hand and the bunching fabric of her scarlet scarf in the other, Helspira looked down. “By Chthonian standards, I suppose Cecil’s behavior was normal. You expect that kind of thing from demons, imps, harpies, diavoli, goblins, fiends ... But not humans.”
“With respect to your experiences in both Chthonia and Nyllmas, I can say with great certainty that insanity is plentiful amongst humans. We can be downright monstrous when—”
Monstrous.
He stopped suddenly, their conversation in Saelihn’s castle flooding his mind. In the hall, beside the painting. Helspira had spoken of meeting monsters outside her native Chthonia. With each passing millisecond of clarity, he stiffened. “Cecil’s the one responsible for your eye.”
Gaze fixated on the grass, Helspira nodded. “It’s fine. It was my own fault. I was naïve. I mean, when word got out that the Red Sentinel had hired a demon, Cecil sort of just ... appeared. I should’ve found it strange that he wished to court me when every other human seemed fit to avoid me entirely.”
“Just so I’m clear on the timeline”—Sikras ticked off occurrences with his fingers—“you fled the living nightmare that is Chthonia. You found sanctuary in Nyllmas. Fell in love with a wizard. And heripped outyour eye?”
“That’s the long and short of it,” she said with a casual laugh and a shrug. “Apparently demon eyes are a rare material component, and he needed one for a spell.”
Sikras dipped his head back in a dramatic groan. “Material component casters? Ugh. They’re theworst. Cowards too afraid to draw from their own body’s energy. They’re an embarrassment to wizardry.”
Wiping a trail of juice from her chin, Helspira smiled. “Careful who you say that to tomorrow. Theodore uses material components as well, and we can’t afford to offend him if we want that scroll of his.”
“I’ll try to be on my best behavior. And, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I don’t know you well, but I know enough to believe you deserved far more kindness than life gave you.”
Helspira nonchalantly swallowed another mouthful of food. “It’s all right. That was twelve long months ago. If I’m honest, the most frustrating thing is that Cecil was so intelligent, so determined, so driven. He could’ve beenanything. And he settled on being Siaphara’s biggest asshole.”
“A common trait among most material component casters. Want me to kill him?”
A coughing fit ensued as Helspira choked on either her food or her own saliva. Understandably so. Perhaps offering to slaughter her ex with the same indifference one might use to discuss the weather could be perceived as mildly unsettling.
“I’m sorry. Did I hear you correctly?” she managed between coughs.
“Yeah, no, you’re right. I overstepped. Clearly if you wanted him dead, you’d have done it already. However”—Sikras pointed his index finger skyward and smiled—“should you ever decide one day he’d make a fine corpse, and you’re feeling generous, I wouldn’t mind giving whatever’s left of him a solid kick.”
Her coughs turned to laughter, and she favored him with a strained smile. “I appreciate the offer, but revenge isn’t in my nature. It may be in my blood, but I never was a proper demon.”
Contemplation stole Sikras’s smile. Though her face was barely visible in the pale moon’s glow, he searched it with a fascination he hadn’t felt since he had first met Vessik twenty-some years ago. “How do you do it?”
“Do what?”
“You’ve witnessed the worst the world has to offer, and you’re still driven to save it. Why?”
Her smile was so genuine, so pure. “Nobody knows how important compassion is more than those who’ve lived a life without it. Nyllmas isn’t perfect, but it’s aparadisecompared to Chthonia. There are ideas here, hopes, dreams, aspirations, art, culture, love. I mean, I haven’t really experienced those things yet, because people are still skittish around demons, but I’d love to someday. When people like Vessik try to turn a sanctuary like Nyllmas into even a sliver of the wasteland that Chthonia is”—she shook her head, drawing a slow breath in through her nostrils—“I can’t let that happen. Not to this place.”
“Good.” Ignoring the sting of hearing Vessik’s name, Sikras propped his arms onto his knees and followed a shooting star as it streaked across the sky. “Nyllmas will rejoice knowing it has a real hero in its corner. I was afraid it might come down to me. What a fucking disaster that would be.”
Her laughter echoed through the expanding darkness, the flickering glow of invading lightning moths sparking behind her in small golden bursts. “Queen Saelihn doesn’t suffer fools. If she believes in you, it must be for a good reason.”
