by Nichols, TJ
That was true. Angus could see through their lies. Saka had been teaching him how to sense for untruths, but Angus seemed to be able to do it naturally. As much as he wanted to learn to heal, Angus’s talents seemed to lie elsewhere. He was a leader, someone who could inspire others. People liked him.
People would always want to be with him.
“He wouldn’t be a threat if they were being honest about what they want.”
“We always knew that they were not truly on our side, but it is better to have some human allies than none.” Guda flicked her wings. “We cannot leave Terrance in their hands. It will be easy for them to make threats and for Angus to feel pressured.”
“He shouldn’t have gotten involved with Terrance.” Angus’s affection for Terrance was a thorn that had worked its way deep.
Guda looked at him for several heartbeats. He wanted to look away like a guilty child, but he made himself sit still and hold her gaze. For all that he tried to hide it and deny it, his old teacher saw straight into his heart.
“Jealousy is just as damaging to a mage, maybe more so than having a lover,” Guda said softly. That only made it worse. She should tell him it was wrong, not accept that he cared for Angus more than he should.
Saka glanced away. “I did not know what it was at first. Now I do not know how to get rid of it. He is human. My apprentice. And I am jealous of the time he spends with another man.” It was a mark he could not scrub from his skin, no matter how hard he tried.
“We should try to get Terrance,” Guda repeated.
“We should tell Angus to ignore their threats.” Would the underground actually kill Terrance? Saka didn’t know. If they did, he would no longer be a problem, and if they didn’t, Angus could shake himself free of their demands.
“He will not. He has a human heart, and they are tenderer than ours. Not only that, but it would be a sign of our faith in him.”
It wasn’t the underground the demons trusted. It was Angus. No one had put that burden on his shoulders yet. For the moment, the underground was useful, even if they were not open. They had given Angus a chance to come and go and for him to find like-minded wizards. Some of the wizards were there because they felt they should be, and others because they genuinely wanted to help. The teams had been assembled with that in mind.
“It will have to be voted on.” And he would vote against. It was too dangerous, and they didn’t know where Terrance was.
Guda looked at him with sadness in her eyes. “Do not vote in a way that you will regret, just because you cannot contain the way you feel.” She used his shoulder to get up, but didn’t straighten immediately. “There is nothing wrong with falling in love, only when you let that love become a weakness. You would do well to think on the path you are walking, student of mine.”
She stood and shuffled away, her age clear in her gait. She would stay to supervise the training of the humans they trusted the least. Jim was one of them.
Her warning rolled around Saka’s skull. He could love Angus as long as it wasn’t a weakness, but it was already tearing him open. He didn’t know how to fix the wound or stop the poison from spilling. Seeing Angus had only made it worse. He’d wanted to embrace Angus, kiss him, and greet him as a lover when he stepped through the void. Instead he’d forced distance. That night, while Saka was with Guda, Angus was being shown how to pack up the tent.
There’d been a moment when it was clear that Angus hoped for something, but Saka had turned away. He hated himself for that, in part because he knew that the sex would help rebalance, but also because he wanted it too. He wanted to steal another moment where rebalancing and magic didn’t matter.
He closed his eyes.
He’d promised himself that it would be only the once for pleasure. And before Angus had almost given his soul to Demonside, there had been pleasure. But in the days when death stalked, Saka realized what Angus meant to him, and pleasure had become a dangerous indulgence.
It was all right to love. He didn’t doubt Guda, but most mages were told it was better not to. He’d had lovers, but he hadn’t loved them.
Was it love that he felt for Angus?
He didn’t know. He’d never been in love, and he had no idea how to stop it from turning him inside out. The tribe needed him whole. Angus needed him whole. He couldn’t be the mage they needed if he acted in his own best interest.
The mages were gathering, and he got up to join them. They would vote on what to do about Terrance, and Guda wouldn’t know how he voted.
But he would, and he didn’t know if he should vote with his heart or his head. It would be easier if Angus tore Saka’s heart free and left it in the sand for a scarlips, but Angus would never do that. If he voted against rescuing Terrance, he might as well carve a hole in Angus’s chest. He couldn’t do that either.
The vote had been taken and the plan made in a rush. The tribes were about to leave, so any rescue had to be done immediately. Saka thought it rash, but people were desperate to do something, to fight instead of waiting. His vote had been lost in the deluge of affirmative votes. He watched the dawn, and with the other mages, he waited for the return of the rescue party.
Guda and her warlock met every morning. They used the tear in the void to get through. From there, Guda planned to reason with her warlock and encourage Terrance’s release or, if the opportunity presented itself, grab Terrance.
The work should’ve been done in two stages—gain the information and then attempt a rescue or not.
It was midmorning when a tear opened and the mages and hunters returned. The group was smaller than it had been. His ribs tightened around his lungs and made it hard to draw breath. Where was Guda?
Then he saw his old teacher being carried. There was blood all over her and those carrying her. It splashed on the top of the mountain like rain.
He broke away from the other mages. There was no point in holding a circle for the returning demons. They were back—as many of them who were coming back. A mage and a hunter were gone.
Dead or captured? It would be better if they were dead, not used to drain more magic from Demonside in rituals.
“Guda.” He dropped to his knees by her side, and people gave him space.
She wheezed with each breath. He put his hands over her wounds. There were too many. He’d seen the damage before—bullet wounds. The metal was still inside her. Why had no one bothered to heal her? They were easy wounds to heal but fatal if left.
“No,” she whispered.
“It is not too late.” He glanced at the mages who had brought her through and sought help, but no one stepped forward. What had she said to them?
“I asked them… to bring me… back so I could die on… Lifeblood. They have done that.” Every word was a struggle.
Saka couldn’t imagine a world without her. She had been a constant for most of his life, a teacher and friend.
“You don’t have to die.”
She stated at him with her dark eyes. “Let me give my soul. You do not need me.”
But he did. He might be head mage for his tribe, but it was Guda that he spoke to when he needed guidance, when he needed to confide or be challenged. Was this her last challenge to him?
He would fail it.
His hands were sticky with her blood.
Terrance hadn’t even been rescued. Bitterness roiled through him. “It was for nothing.”
She gave a small shake of her head. “They wanted us to try. They were waiting, and we were too slow to realize.”
“Ellis betrayed you.” He’d thought Guda had a good relationship with her warlock. They had worked together for a decade.
“No. She was betrayed. She didn’t agree with the changes. Now she is dead.” She placed her great clawed hand over his. Her talons were no longer shiny. They were flaky, and some were broken. How had he not noticed that age had crept up and stolen parts of her? Or had he been blinded by his own need for her?
She drew in a breath. “Find a way forward, Saka. I can
no longer lead you.”
But he was lost and had no light. Already he was losing his footing and had nothing to grab on to. Her chest stilled.
“Guda,” he cried, but her soul was gone from her body, back into Demonside.
He rocked back on his heels. Blood dripped off his fingers. He wanted to howl like a child, but he couldn’t. He didn’t know what to do. She could’ve lived a little longer—a year, maybe two. He wasn’t ready to be alone, but he drew in a shuddering breath and pulled himself together. He couldn’t come apart with so many watching.
No one said anything.
There would be discussions later about what had gone wrong. Though no word of it would spread beyond Lifeblood Mountain. What was discussed there was secret unless they agreed otherwise. The hunters had been sworn to silence on the matter before they left. Their failure was something they would have to dissect. The brutality of the underground was a concern.
The hunters who’d accompanied the three mages hovered above the ground, unwilling to set foot on the sacred space. Their wings created a breeze that buffeted him, and for a moment, if felt as though he were going to fall off the side of the mountain.
The world would never be the same again.
His chin tipped to his chest. He would arrange the body and leave her there. Mages were left in the open so their bodies could be used by the creatures who roamed Demonside. Others were buried in the sand. It wouldn’t take long for there to be nothing left. When he came back next year, Guda would be completely gone.
Chapter Ten
Angus knew something was going on because Saka and the other mages hadn’t come down the mountain. The whole tribe was packed and waiting and none too happy about the delay. He’d done his bit to help, or at least not get in the way or botch it up as he was shown what to do. Everything was folded and stowed away. Even Saka’s little table had its legs folded so it became flat.
Most people didn’t have as much as Saka or Miniti. It must be a status thing as well as a practical thing because every item had to be moved. What wasn’t carried was loaded onto sleds or the backs of the animals that were tethered near the camp. He’d seen them from a distance, but never up close.
They weren’t as big as horses, but their backs were broad, their feet were like dinner plates, and they were covered in scales. Their toes dug into the sand as their burdens were added. They reminded Angus of alligators—if alligators had long legs, a stubby tail, and could be tamed.
“What do they eat?” He didn’t want to get too close and accidently lose an arm—not that anyone else seemed to be worried.
“Camp scraps, bark, bones, pretty much anything. They are scavengers,” the demon who’d been very patient with him all morning said.
When the creature let out a bellow through its nostril flaps, the demon gave it a friendly nudge. “Are you scared?”
“No.” A little. But he wasn’t going to reveal that to anyone. “Curious.” He reached out a hand, only to have it slapped away.
“Approach from the side. They have sharp teeth at the front for tearing and can give a nasty bite.” She stared at him. “You would be very tender and probably tasty.” She snapped her teeth at him, and Angus had the distinct impression that she wouldn’t mind giving him a bite. She laughed as she walked around the other side of the beast to adjust the straps.
Lizzie stomped over with an armload of stuff that belonged to her mage. “This is the last of it.” She wiped her forehead and pulled her shirt, which was stuck to her with sweat, away from her body. “It’s not even midday yet.”
“We should’ve left already,” Angus said as his gaze drifted to the mountain.
“Nothing good ever comes out of a meeting that lasts this long.” The demon clicked her tongue and shook her head. “No one wants to start a walk under the midday sun.”
“So this afternoon?” Or had they packed up for nothing and would remain another day? If they had to unload, no one was going to be in a good mood.
“Miniti will say when we go.”
Miniti, who had graciously allowed others to join her tribe as long as she was still in charge. Who’d already gotten a taste for his blood and who Angus tried to avoid as much as possible.
“Go humans, before you turn pink and pass out.” The demon shooed them away.
He was never going to live the heatstroke down. Lizzie glanced at him but didn’t say anything as they made their way to the shade of the trees. The buzzing insects had also retreated and were making the most of the fruits and the flesh available to bite.
As much as he wanted to squash the green-winged thing that landed on his arm, he settled for flicking it away. He already had a welt on his shoulder from where something else had bitten him. And while he knew he shouldn’t, he missed the dry when the insects were dormant. Even the rain was better. At least it had been slightly cooler.
“Ugh.” Lizzie brushed something off her ankle. “I’d sit, but I don’t want them crawling up my pants.”
The river was a glistening ribbon of temptation about ten yards away, but there’d be no relief there. Things that lived in there had woken up and were breeding and doing their thing before the river sank. Some of the things—fish, eels, he wasn’t sure—sank with the rivers. They were pale and eyeless and apparently delicious. He might have eaten some for dinner. It was easier not to know.
“You okay with the split?” He hadn’t spoken to either of the trainees in his group because they’d been too busy packing. While he didn’t want to talk too much about himself, he could try to find out where Lizzie sat when it came to magic and demons… and Jim.
She shrugged. “Yeah. I guess. We’re here for a few weeks, then home. It’s not forever. Jim and I will be fine.”
Angus nodded. “He didn’t seem happy.”
“He’s not. He wanted us to stay together, and he hates that his mage is going slow. His words.” She shooed away another bug.
“Ah.” Angus wasn’t about to share his suspicions. “And yours?”
“Good. Drawing up, rebalancing, the basics, I guess. What about you? You do other stuff?” She lifted an eyebrow as she looked at him.
“Yeah.” He was being taught like a demon apprentice.
“I’ve seen you with him. You’re friendly. Jim mentioned the marks on your arm. That’s not just rebalancing.” She pointed to a few faint scars that were visible.
What else had Jim been saying, or asking her to do? Angus glanced down. The scars were only the thickness of a hair and almost completely faded. He was hoping he’d learn how to heal himself soon, and then they would be completely gone. How much did she know about what he did? Some wizards used blood magic, but did they know about the emotion behind the cuts? “It is, but different.”
She studied him for a minute. “You’re learning other things. I heard whispers that your mage is your lover.”
From Jim’s lips to her ear, or had she heard something from the demons? Angus swallowed. No one thought twice about it. Back home, even the underground would be horrified, especially the college warlocks.
Lizzie pushed a strand of hair off her face. “I’m not going to say anything. I just wondered if it were true.”
There was no point in lying about it if people were talking about it. He wanted Lizzie to trust him, even if he didn’t trust her. At some point Lizzie would have her suspicions confirmed or she’d learn there were more powerful ways to rebalance than what she was being shown. “There are three ways to rebalance—blood, sex, and souls.”
“Souls as in death.”
“Yes. Although little bits can be given.” He was sure Demonside had taken a piece of him when he almost died. A part of him never wanted to leave when he was there. He was accepted. Magic was as natural as breathing, and it flowed through him. He missed that when he was across the void.
Lizzie nodded. “So the people who were killed.” She nodded at the mountain. “It wasn’t just about their blood.”
There would have been ritual
cuts before their death. They would’ve been given a choice. They would’ve been offered either drugs or magical relief. It didn’t make it any less distasteful knowing that they were criminals or volunteers who wanted their deaths to mean something. Their deaths had brought life to Demonside.
“It’s complicated, and I don’t fully understand what goes on up there.” He’d been part of one power-raising orgy. That had been enough for him to step aside. He wasn’t ready for that kind of magic.
“But you’ve been up there.”
He nodded. “And I can’t talk about it because I was there as a mage. What is discussed by the council of mages is private.”
The trainees had been welcomed up there, like any apprentice, but the next time they went up Lifeblood, their training would be over. The next time he went up, it would be to be tested and admitted as a mage. That would take years. He would be between two worlds for… not just years but for the rest of his life, He didn’t want to give up Demonside to live only with humans.
For a heartbeat his future unfurled in front of him. Never in one place for more than a few weeks. Always back and forth. Who would want that from a partner? How could he expect anyone to put up with that? He shivered despite the heat.
“Do you trust the demons?” Lizzie’s voice yanked him back to the sticky shade of the trees and the droning of the insects.
“As much as I trust anyone.” Which wasn’t much. He could count his friends on one hand. And one of them was imprisoned because of him.
Lizzie stared at the river, and neither of them spoke. A small herd of tenga wandered over for a drink. While they couldn’t be called cute and furry, they shimmered like gold in the sun, their tiny green horns like emeralds. They were also good to eat. He’d eaten more in Demonside in the last few weeks than he ever had. Members of the tribe were no longer thin. Saka’s collarbone had vanished. It wasn’t just the animals making the most of the abundance of food.
Lizzie kicked at a few fallen leaves. “I never realized how many warlocks are in the underground. I thought it was all wizards.”