Pocket Full of Tinder

by Jill Archer

  I nodded. I knew that Ari, unlike me, had attended Host schools before enrolling at St. Luck’s.

  “When I reached adolescence, however, my father started encouraging me to seize my demon destiny.” He scoffed. “As if there is such a thing. Unlike humans, demons aren’t born with a birthright. They aren’t spawned as the patron of something. They have to forge their identities and followings from whatever openings are available. I told him I didn’t want to be the patron of anything. I didn’t want followers. But he said that was only my mother talking.” Ari’s voice grew soft. “My dad pointed out that even Matt, my younger brother, would be gone in eighty years, maybe less. What would I do then?”

  My throat grew tight. Lots of people talked about immortality as if it would be a blessing. Didn’t they realize how lonely it would be? Demons weren’t immortal, but they lived for so much longer than we did, they might as well be.

  “There were discussions. There were fights. In the end, it was agreed that I’d contact your father about becoming a demon executioner. Since I have zero tolerance for rogares, it was a job I was good at.” He paused then, perhaps giving me a moment to complain. In the past, I’d made all sorts of noise about his violent history. Considering the things I’d done since, though, I’d lost the right to object. I wouldn’t say I was bloodthirsty, but I could no longer describe myself as a pacifist without being a raging hypocrite as well.

  “When Karanos asked which Maegester school I was going to attend, I told him I didn’t know. He suggested St. Luck’s and… you know the rest.”

  I frowned and barked out a laugh. “No, I don’t. Hello? Rockthorn Gorge? Cliodna? Why her? Why here?”

  I wasn’t resentful. Not anymore. But I needed to know more about her since she was a member of the camarilla. Not to mention she’d threatened my life. Maybe.

  Ari’s expression was inscrutable. Was he mad? Embarrassed? With who? Over what?

  “She was my first,” he said quietly.

  “Your first…?” The words were out of my mouth before I realized what he meant. Oh. Never mind. I clenched my jaw and looked away.

  We sat in silence for a few minutes and then Ari said, “And that’s all I’m going to tell you about her, Noon, because she… doesn’t… matter,” he repeated. “I never loved her. I was just… talked into her.”

  “Uh-huh,” I said, rolling my eyes, “whatever, Ari.” I snorted. “And you can’t say she doesn’t matter, by the way. She’s the Lady of the Gorge, the demon with the second most seniority here. So… let me guess, she played a big part in helping you get elected?”

  Ari’s silence was all the affirmation I needed.

  “You know, she threatened to poison me.”

  “What?” His voice was sharp.

  I told Ari the details of my conversation with Cliodna, and his expression darkened. He stood up and started pacing. Even if Cliodna had just been testing me, it was clear that Ari didn’t like what she’d said.

  “She knows I would do more than kill her. I would pluck her feathers out one by one, debone her, and then kill her.”

  Ari’s signature had become icy. Last year, it might have alarmed me. This year, I just asked him to sit back down. “What good would that do me?” I asked. “I could care less about being avenged. I want to live.”

  “So does Cliodna.”

  It was his matter-of-fact delivery that tipped me off. “You’ve had this discussion with her,” I said breathlessly, trying to convince myself it was incredulity I felt, not fear. “You’ve already warned her not to kill me.”

  “Cliodna is excitable and high-strung,” he said. “But she’s not suicidal, and she doesn’t do anything that isn’t in her own best interests. I made her understand that killing you would not result in a favorable outcome for her.”

  I sputtered. Ari sounded so pragmatic. Was this the demon side of him? Having seen – and felt – the drakon earlier today, I thought not. That beast’s desires were passionate and primitive, whereas the man in front of me sounded cold-blooded and analytical. This time I jumped up, no longer able to sit still.

  “When did you tell Cliodna about me? Before or after she helped you get elected?”

  I could only imagine the Lady of the Gorge’s reaction to discovering Ari’s feelings for me after helping him get elected. She’d have wanted to kill us both.

  But Ari said, “Before. I told her about you last summer – the day I arrived, almost a year ago. I would have told her anyway, but she sensed your signare on me and demanded to know who put it there.”

  “And you had no trouble telling her.”

  Ari laughed. “Why should I? I’m not ashamed of my feelings for you. You’re the one going around telling everyone you’re my ex-inamorata.”

  I opened my mouth to tell him it was Fara who’d first called me that, but then decided we needed to stay on track. I walked over to where Nova was napping in a patch of sunlight and leaned against the stone wall of the castle.

  “What about Malphia? The only thing the Demon Council seems to know about her is her name. What’s her role?”

  “She was Potomus’ spymaster.”

  I made a face. “And you kept her on?”

  “Noon, if I fired everyone who was dangerous or deadly, you’d go too.”

  My cheeks flushed and I looked away. I didn’t know whether to feel ashamed, offended, or pleased. I cleared my throat and turned back to him.

  “Tell me about Yannu. Frankly, he seems like the best candidate for patron. He’s Captain of the Guard. He’s lived in the gorge for almost as long as Cliodna. He’s a bunyip and over half the ranks are bunyips. Why wasn’t he elected? Do the people or Cliodna not like him?”

  I could hardly blame them if that were the case, although it would be weird to be aligned with Cliodna on something.

  “Acheron and Yannu don’t get along. Technically, Acheron doesn’t get a vote, but realistically, he’s got at least three thousand. Over a third of the residents in Rockthorn Gorge consider Acheron to be their primary deity. They follow other demons, of course, both greater and lesser, but their main adoration and devotion belong to Acheron.”

  “Why doesn’t Acheron like Yannu?”

  Ari’s mouth quirked. “Two totally different life philosophies, that’s all. Yannu is all about action whereas Acheron is not. Acheron is, in many ways, like his river – natural, flowing, meandering. He’s incredibly powerful. Like his river, he can rage and kill. But most of the time he prefers to be a part of the background, not control the foreground.”

  “Maybe Yannu is upset that Cliodna and Acheron backed you,” I argued. “Maybe he’s been vying for the patronship all along. Maybe he killed Potomus and then tried to kill you because he wants to be Lord of the Gorge, not Captain of the Guard.”

  Ari frowned, not following. “Displodo has bombed the dam when patrons haven’t been present too. The dam was the target, not me.”

  “But the fact that Acheron opposes the dam is well known, isn’t it? Maybe Yannu wanted to make it look like Acheron was Displodo. Or maybe Acheron really is Displodo.”

  Ari seemed to seriously consider my theories, but he looked doubtful.

  “If you don’t think either Acheron or Yannu are Displodo,” I pressed, “then who?”

  “Why do you think Displodo is a demon we know?”

  I told him Zeffre’s theory then – that Displodo was one of the demons in his camarilla.

  “Is it true?” I asked. “Were they the only demons who knew you were going to be on the dam that day?”

  Ari nodded slowly.

  “Do any of them have a reason to destroy the dam… or you?”

  He sighed, and I felt the faintest whiff of melancholia in his signature. For a moment, it took my breath away. I realized how abrasive my questions must have felt to him. Yes, Ari had hurt me deeply when he lied to me about being a demon. But I was the one who’d broken up with him. I was the one who’d told him I couldn’t be with him anymore. I was the one who�
�d forced him to find a future elsewhere.

  Well, he had. And I’d just shot it to hell by telling him one of his new allies might be trying to kill him.

  He rolled up the blanket, deep in thought, and then stuffed it, the bottles, and the empty bags back in his pack. Melancholia turned to resolve and he stood up. “I don’t know…” he said finally. “The only thing I’m sure of is that I don’t trust them. Not really.” He looked over at me then, his expression ambiguous.

  “Besides, why do you think Displodo is a demon at all? Maybe he – or she – is human.” He looked both patient and impatient, resigned and determined, forlorn and optimistic. Had I not sensed his earlier blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment of vulnerability, I might have responded with a joke about demons being the root of all evil. Instead, I asked about Zeffre.

  “Then what about your foreman? I’m betting he knew you were going to be on the dam the day Displodo destroyed it. Do you trust him?”

  Ari smiled. “With my life and yours.”

  My eyebrows rose. “But he was Lord Potomus’ foreman. Basically, you inherited him in the same way you inherited your camarilla. How come he alone has your trust?”

  “Because he’s my uncle.”

  My jaw dropped. Huh?

  Ari laughed, but then sobered. “My aunt died years ago. She was my adoptive dad’s sister. Tenacity is Matt’s cousin – and mine.”

  “Tenacity is… Zeffre’s daughter?” Even I laughed. And then I teased, “The demon Lord Aristos has an Angel cousin. Ha!”

  But Ari’s face stayed serious and he walked over to me. “You’re wrong, you know,” he said quietly. “Zeffre’s not the only one who has my trust. My consigliere does too.”

  By late afternoon I felt as if we’d hiked all of northern Halja, but of course that wasn’t even close to being true. My legs were burning, and I was sweating and beginning to wonder if Ari was prolonging this patrol simply because it was an excuse for him to be alone with me. But when I saw the via ferrata rising up the nearly vertical rock face in front of us, I knew Ari had led me this way with a final destination in mind.

  Via ferratas, or “iron roads,” were a misnomer. There was nothing roadlike about the iron rungs, pegs, and cable route that had been screwed into Mount Occasus’ limestone wall here.

  I put my hands on my hips and glared at Ari. “Seriously? What’s up there anyway? It can’t possibly be worth it.”

  He smirked and pulled a large paper-wrapped package out of his pack. “Come on, Noon,” he said while unwrapping it. “You’ll be fine. First semester, I’d have had to carry you up. But now? I’m pretty sure you’d be able to carry me up, if you were determined enough.”

  I snorted my disbelief while Ari pulled a meaty bone out of his bag and tossed it to Nova. She let it drop in front of her and then sat back on her haunches, waiting for me to give the signal that it was okay to start gnawing on it. I wish I could say her behavior was the result of her getting better about not chewing things she wasn’t supposed to, but truth is, Ari made her wary. I think it was because he was a demon. In some ways, I couldn’t blame her.

  I sighed and gave her the go-ahead. Ari handed me a water bottle and I took a few swigs, eyeing the via ferrata with trepidation. I didn’t have acrophobia, but nor did I have the head for heights that some people did. Rafe and I had done a lot of climbing last semester and, at one point, he’d had to cast me up with three different climbing spells.

  Seemingly out of the blue, Ari asked me how another of our former classmates was doing – Brunus Olivine, the MIT who’d shot the cursed arrow at me.

  I froze with the water bottle halfway to my lips and then slowly lowered it.

  “Is Adikia looking after him,” Ari asked, “Or did one of your father’s Maegesters take care of him?”

  Adikia was the Patron Demon of Abuse, Injustice, and Oppression. She was also the patron of the New Babylon Gaol. She was well known for her love of torture. “Looking after” a prisoner meant boiling, burning, flaying, branding, cutting, and anything else dreamt up by her enforcers’ sadistic minds. I wouldn’t entrust Adikia with my worst enemy. Still, mercy hadn’t been my motivation.

  “I took care of him,” I said, meeting Ari’s stare.

  “You killed Brunus?” Ari’s tone made it clear that he found the idea pretty unbelievable. But, for once, I wasn’t offended that he’d underestimated me.

  I’m not exactly sure why I said what I said next. Maybe it was because, without further explanation, Ari would likely think that I’d killed Brunus for revenge.

  “He was holding a knife to Rafe’s neck,” I said.

  “So you killed Brunus to protect your Guardian?”

  I frowned. Was Ari going to try and make me feel guilty about killing Brunus? I refused to look away. After a moment, Ari did. But when he turned back to me, the full force of his gaze made me feel like the water I’d been drinking had suddenly turned to ice. Instinctively, I took a step back. My foot hit a rock that I hadn’t known was there, throwing me off balance, and I fell backward and landed on my rump with a thump. It was such a girlish thing to do that I just sat there, glaring up at Ari, pissed that he’d literally brought me so low. My uncharacteristic clumsiness then led Ari to do what he might not have done otherwise. He offered me his hand to help me up – and I accepted it.

  Ari pulled me up from the ground and I stood in front of him, inches away, head tilted back, eyes defiantly narrowed, until he rubbed his thumb across the back of my hand. I shivered and looked down. The warm glow of my skin where Ari had touched me contrasted sharply with the silver patina of Rafe’s bracelet. When I looked up again, Ari was staring down at it.

  “Is this bracelet a signare, Noon?”

  His voice was solemn, but not menacing.

  “No,” I said quickly, shaking my head. There was a lot of meaning behind the bracelet, but it wasn’t an Angel’s version of a signare. Ari’s relief was so palpable, it prompted me to admit something I wasn’t even sure Ari had a right to know – that I’d kissed Rafe.

  It was the shortest, most peculiar admission I’ve ever made. Rafe had told me to tell Ari “everything.” I assume he’d meant that, if I wanted to, that included the fact that we’d shared a kiss… or two… or more.

  I wasn’t much for kissing and telling. It was poor form. And, besides, Ari and I were definitely not together at the time. So it wasn’t really any of his business.

  So why burden him with my admission?

  Because I believed in having “clean hands.” I’d accused Ari of lying to me by omission. I wasn’t about to do the same thing to him. I didn’t know how, or if, my confession would change things between us, I only knew I had to make it.

  “Ari… Rafe and I… during my last assignment… down in southern Halja… we… well, he… No, me—I kissed him.” And then, as if Ari couldn’t already sense my conflicted emotions, I added, “Not on the cheek. Not as a friend.”

  Ari closed his eyes and buttoned up his signature. But his grip suddenly became vicelike and hot as a brand. I tried to pull my hand back, but he held tight. Nova stopped gnawing and started growling, her hackles rising. Instinctively, I sent a pulse of magic down my arm into my hand. There was a spark and then, thank Luck, the moment before my fireball exploded, Ari released me and stepped back.

  We glared at each other.

  Nova rose from the ground, tense, ready to strike, her eyes on Ari.

  I wasn’t going to apologize. Rafe and I had done nothing wrong. Ari would just have to deal with what had happened and move on.

  “Why isn’t Rafe here now, Noon? Why is he no longer your Guardian?”

  “I told you. He said he wanted to train with the Ophanim.”

  “So he’s an oath breaker.”

  I huffed. “I released him from his vow.”

  Ari recapped his water bottle, crumpled up the paper wrapping from Nova’s bone, and stuffed them both back in his pack. It took longer than it should have, and the entire time I could
n’t help feeling he was digesting what I’d said.

  I let him. Better here than down below with his camarilla, the entire town, and apparently his uncle and cousin too, watching.

  Finally, he looked me in the eye. “There’s only one way down,” he said, pointing back toward the trail. “You can’t get lost. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  And then he shouldered his pack and started climbing the via ferrata.

  Luck spare me from jealous ex-boyfriends. Luck spare me from men who think they’re invincible. Luck spare me from via ferratas.

  Watching Ari climb the via ferrata with only one good arm while he was still upset about my revelation was excessively agonizing. I suppose, if you’re the kind of person who thinks that girls should be punished for kissing people after their boyfriend has broken their heart, then the next hour was my true just deserts.

  Needless to say, I left Nova contentedly munching on the bone Ari had so thoughtfully brought for her and followed him up the iron road. I barely spared a thought for my own safety, so focused was I on Ari’s arduous climb.

  What if he fell?

  I couldn’t stop him or catch him. Could he even fly with his damaged wing? I became so concerned that I fired up a knife and was just about to cut my palm and make an offering for Ari’s safe passage to Verstung, Patron Demon of the Northern Mountains, when I heard his voice.

  “Don’t,” he called out. “Please don’t. I’m fine. You’re fine. It’s not much farther. You don’t need to make an offering.” It almost seemed like he was trying to convince himself as much as me.

  I’m fine.

  Was he?

  11

  THE MAGNA FAX

  The via ferrata led us up the side of Mount Occasus. At its windy top was a walled plaza surrounding a stone tower that matched the crumbling architecture of the ruined castle below. Perched in one of the tower’s crenels was the huge bore of a cannon – the Magna Fax.