“I said she tried to instruct me, I didn’t say she wassuccessful.”
Charlotte laughed, then quickly sobered and shook her head. “I wish I knew more to help you, but I only know stories—just enough to warn me off ever tangling with them.”
“But you said—Caspian’s a high-level demon. How do you figure that?”
Charlotte pursed her lips and took a moment to answer. “I’ve never heard of a Caspian, but Ihaveheard of Asmodeus, the other demon you mentioned inyour letter. Asmodeus is supposed to be one of the Demon Princes, and a really nasty piece of work. If Caspian has him in his service—I would bet Caspian is a high-level demon too.”
“Where did you hear of Asmodeus?” Elizabeth looked at her blankly.
Charlotte smiled wryly. “Asmodeus is said to have made deals with men that have ended in horrible curses.” Charlotte leaned forward and said in a conspiratorial voice, “Usually curses that involve genital warts or the inability to get it up for all eternity.”
“And? What was the deal if that was the price?” Elizabeth asked, amused despite herself.
“Power, wealth, whatever someone asked for, but apparently, Asmodeus would tell them the cost would be the thing they’d miss most. And the person would usually insist on leaving their family and loved ones alone, and then, upon wracking their brains for what else could possibly be so bad, they agree. And … you guessed it.”
Elizabeth giggled. “Imagine amassing all the wealth in the world, and the price for becoming rich overnight was that your favourite man parts would never work again.”
Charlotte threw back her head and laughed. “Yes, it is a bit funny.” She quickly sobered. “But I’ve heard of him. He sounds devious. Don’t make any more promises to demons if you can avoid it.”
“I wasn’t planning on it.”
Charlotte wrinkled her nose and looked deep in thought for a moment. “I don’t like this at all. I wish you could leave and stay somewhere else.”
Elizabeth sipped her tea and sighed. “I know. But I signed a contract. I think I’ve made my bed and must lie in it, at least for the time being.”
Silence drifted between them for a while.
Elizabeth broke it by saying, “I think I was blessed by an angel.”
Charlotte gasped. “Lizzy! You didnotmention you had spoken to anangel.” Elizabeth gave a sheepish shrug, and Charlotte pressed on. “What did he look like? What did he say? Did he really have angel wings?”
Elizabeth blew on a spoonful of soup to cool it before taking a sip. “Tall, blond, and ethereal looking. Yes, he did have wings.” She paused. “He talked to me about magic and told me what his magic feels like.” She tapped her chest. “Then he put his hand on my chest, and I felt something funny happen in here, like something stretching taut and collapsing deep within my chest.”
Charlotte looked stricken. “Tell me exactly what happened.”
So, she did. She told her about what had happened with Ambriel and everything that had happened since leaving home.
It was a relief to speak to Charlotte, but she found herself avoiding certain details, like the bodies in the cellars and the fact that the demons of the castle drank blood in front of her every night. Things that she thought would only make Charlotte worry about her more than she already did.
Charlotte listened carefully and didn’t ask too many questions.
When her tale was done, Charlotte was quiet for a long moment. Finally, she said, “I thought only witches had magic.”
Elizabeth gave her a wry smile. “I did too.”
“So,” Charlotte said, tapping her chin. “You may or may not have magic. And can hear … thoughts.”
Elizabeth pressed her lips together and nodded.
“I don’t believe you,” Charlotte said, grinning. “What am I feeling then? Tell me.”
Elizabeth placed a hand atop Charlotte’s and looked her in the eyes, focusing and casting out her thoughts. After a moment, she said, “Warmth, friendship. A warm, fuzzy, happy feeling. Concern, more than a little.”
Charlotte’s eyes twinkled. “Okay, little miss witch.”
Elizabeth looked scandalized. “Char! Don’t call me that. Someone could hear.”
“Being a witch wouldn’t be the worst thing, would it?” Charlotte mused. “If you are, it wouldn’t matter to me, you know. We would still be friends.”
