Bat Out of Hell (Promised to the Demons Book 2)

by Lidiya Foxglove

  "Well, no one asked you!" I said. "I'm going to pack some food and healing balms. We can carry that too. Just give me two minutes."

  "Celeste--"

  "I'm doing it," I said. "I bet you're all as terrified as I am, deep down, but he's my Bevan."

  "I've learned not to argue with you," Variel said. "So go on.”

  “I’ll pack a survival kit,” Piers said.

  I scrambled to fill a small pack with food and medicine, and Piers was very insistent that he carry a real coat for me to put on when we arrived. It all came together so quickly that we forgot to say goodbye to Cash and the rest.

  It hardly seemed to matter anyway. They would know, and either we would come back in a reasonable time frame, or they would have to give up on us, and that would be the end of us.

  Then again, Variel is a good fisherman, and I'm sure we could build shelter, so maybe we could live on the island if we had to, I tried to tell myself, but for once, a good sturdy plan was no use. I was terrified of that island.

  I had never seen a place I couldn't seem to like. Even Variel's swamp that had nearly killed me, I thought was still very enchanting. But that island… Something about it...

  I turned into a toad and Piers nested me in a pocket inside his wool coat, so I was very warm but I couldn't see a thing. I didn't like it at all.

  "I told you to hold me in your hand!" I cried.

  "I'm keeping you safe, and you're safe in my pocket," he said, and I knew he wasn't going to budge. The crew man helped tie Piers to Variel's back, grumbling all the while that we were all going to die.

  "Silence, or I'll toss you into the sea," Variel said.

  "That's rude, eh?"

  The man wasn't wrong about Variel, I thought, but I was very glad he stopped talking about our impending doom after that.

  "Just spread your wings," Piers said. "And try to get yourself leveled out when the wind catches you. I'll take care of the rest. Rafale de vent!" He said quite a string of French from there, and I certainly didn't pay attention because I was feeling suffocated and flipped sideways as Variel's wings caught a strong wind and it felt like we were nearly thrown into the air by some hand of a god.

  "Are you all well, little toad maid?" Variel called back over his shoulder.

  "I--I'm alive!"

  "Good!" He let out a whoop. "This is an amazing feeling! More thrilling than riding! This is not a bad sort of monster to be!"

  Piers was shouting in French, sounding tense, calling out spells to keep the wind going in the right direction. I don't think anyone but Variel was having fun. I shut my eyes and huddled in Piers' pocket, just riding it out.

  “C-cold," Piers said. "But I do believe we've reached cruising altitude. The wind is good and steady."

  "The dawn is breaking, Celeste," Variel said. "It's really a shame we hid you away."

  "Dawn?" Piers said. "Those clouds are as thick as an impending snowstorm."

  "Ah, well, that's what we would call dawn back home," Variel said. "The wonderful gray glow of sunrise softly stirring the black waters."

  "That actually does sound very pretty," I said, now wishing I could see it.

  "We'll be there before you know it," Piers said. "Variel can fly much faster than Bevan. We should have done it this way from the start, but I didn't know--shit!"

  "Piers!" I shrieked.

  We were both screaming as Variel suddenly started dipping, and then the wind jerked him sideways, off course. He fought to regain his direction.

  "I'm losing control of the wind!" Piers said. "It's the edge of the magical world! Damn, it's true!"

  Worse--much worse--I suddenly felt myself losing control, and changing back into a girl in my panic. My body suddenly exploded out of Piers’ pocket, thankfully to appear caught tightly between the two men. Piers and I almost knocked our faces into each other.

  I quickly wrapped my limbs around him and my teeth started chattering.

  "Can you manage two people, Variel?" Piers shouted as Variel seemed to be concentrating hard just to keep some control of his flight.

  "I should say that having such a nice round ass pressed against me only encourages me to live!" Variel said.

  As he careened toward the island, he said, "Piers, you can't cast any magic at all?"

  "If I could, I sure as fuck would!"

  "I see," Variel said, as he plunged himself into the trees.

  He was trying to break our fall with his own body so it didn’t affect the humans in his care. He caught the trees with his wings, striking them on branches, tearing him up and slowing our fall. Variel crashed to the ground on his feet. The spikes of his tail slammed into the ground and propped him up as he wavered. Small branches had punched right through his wings in spots, and scraped him badly all over.

  "Variel!" I squirmed out from between Piers and Variel and rushed to check out his wounds.

  "You are unhurt," he said. "That's all I wanted... Don't worry, I've survived much worse. When I was a younger demon we used to have duels and tournaments that could have easily killed me.”

  "If you're sure the medicine can wait? Some of these wounds look bad!”

  "Get my knife," Variel said. "And just get Piers free so we can find Bevan."

  I quickly cut the ropes free and Piers slid down, pulling the pack of supplies from his back to his chest.

  Variel looked a little disoriented. I was definitely worried as Piers tried to lead the way and the demon moved much more slowly than usual. If no one had magic, Piers and I weren't much use.

  Still, he forged on, not complaining, trying hard to keep up. We were soon stopped by the body of some canine beast with its head bashed and gashes on its side. The evidence of violence startled me.

  “It’s a good sign,” Piers said. “It shows that Bevan could take of any predators he encountered.”

  “What made those gashes?” I asked. “He didn’t carry any weapons.”

  “Maybe his fangs,” Variel suggested.

  “They do look more like claw marks,” Piers said. “Like you might see from a demon or even a large cat. The blood is drier than the blood on his head. Hmm…”

  I hugged myself, growing more nervous as we reached the steps. There must have been fifty steps, and Variel looked up at them and pressed his wing to his head. Blood was trickling down his wings and spotting the tiles of the temple courtyard.

  "Variel, just rest," Piers said. "That's an order. We'll go check out the temple."

  "I've failed you."

  "Don't worry about it," I said. "You've already done more than enough." I kissed him, and he lingered on it a moment, but not in a hungry way--more as if he thought it could be a final kiss.

  I was determined to stay optimistic, but this place truly gave me the chills. Piers put the coat over my shoulders, and now I was glad he brought it.

  We started up the stairs. Piers stopped and held out a hand. I took it. He gave me a small smile that was trying to reassure me. I remembered that Piers was no stranger to battles.

  My feet hardly seemed to feel the steps. I wanted to see Bevan so badly that I just sprung right up them.

  As soon as we stepped inside the temple, the air changed. A cold, damp, ancient smell greeted my nose and it made me think of a tomb. It was quiet and still.

  "This place...," Piers said. "Talk about bad energy...and yet, it's beautiful."

  "It is beautiful," I said. The building itself was magnificent the way an old cathedral was--full of majesty and a certain sadness. I had seen the basilica in St. Augustine with all of its mournful saints and glowing candles. I treasured the memory, like all memories of leaving the house, but I also recalled that it made me think of death.

  "Bevan!"

  He was collapsed on the cold stone before the altar, just outside of the light.

  I ran for him, and Piers kept up with me. We both tried to rouse him, calling his name. His hands were icy cold.

  "Bevan! Oh, no...oh, please..."

  "He has a pulse,"
Piers said, steadying me with his other hand, as he pressed his fingers to Bevan's neck.

  I was reaching for the potions when Bevan's eyes opened very slowly.

  "Jenny..."

  "You can call me Celeste now," I said. "Are you okay?"

  A weird smile twisted his face and a chill hit me, not for the first time with Bevan, but worse than before.

  "I'm fine," he said, in a guarded tone. "I'm just fine. But...they got here first. The wizards of St. Augustine." He lifted up a small piece of jewelry. "They took the cloak of the first familiar." He sat up a little and reached for me. "You came for me, ginger snap. You couldn’t wait at all, huh? How did you get here so fast?"

  I put my arms around him. "Variel flew! Piers helped steer the wind. But Variel's hurt. I'm so glad you're all right, I only brought a little bit of healing potions, and...I've been so scared."

  "I told you I'd come back to you," he said. "But I'm glad you get to see the temple. It's something worth remembering. Celeste, it’s just as we thought. This temple held the cloaks of hundreds of shifters who were trapped by wizards, unable to escape the bonds. I can’t even imagine how it must have felt for them, to be forced into marriages or servitude, and to see the men who trapped them taking the cloaks away, to be locked up in this remote place so that they could never find them…” Bevan’s voice held a deep anger, as if it had just been awakened in him.

  I looked around at the empty vaults, and I felt their pain. I could imagine them, watching their warlock sailing off with their cloak in hand. I wondered what despair they must have felt to spend the rest of their lives with someone who took their freedom.

  I swallowed. I couldn’t stand this place for too long. ”I just hope we can get back. Variel's really banged up and it's harder to get off the ground than to ride a wind you've already caught."

  "Let's start a fire and get back to Variel," Piers said. "Then we'll discuss it. You're as cold as ice. How long were you laying there?"

  "Not too long," Bevan said. "But it is freezing in here."

  He did seem to be just fine, his steps as spry as ever as we went back to Variel. The demon had sunk onto the stones and looked like he was close to losing consciousness.

  "That does look bad," Bevan said. "Let's get you off temple grounds," he told Variel, helping him up.

  "I don't need help from you, I can get up.”

  "Don't give me that. I'd rather get you under the trees, out of this stark wind. Did you bring something for starting a fire?"

  "No!" I gasped. "I thought magic--"

  "I did, in my kit,” Piers said. "I knew what we might be in for, although I wish I'd been wrong..."

  Soon we had Variel resting with the pack as a pillow and a fire going strong with all the dead wood and leaves scattered around. I tended to every wound and scrape with the medicines I brought with me, although wings weren't easy to bandage.

  "I heal quickly," Variel said, once I got him all patched up. "Don't worry over me too much. I think I might need a day or two to rest, however. I'm sure Cash wouldn't abandon us that quickly.”

  “I fear it will take longer than that,” Piers said. “You need to be very strong to fight that wind coming back.”

  “The wind is blowing toward the island,” Bevan said. “I’m not sure we can make it back at all.”

  I stiffened. “Not at all? Then what would we do?”

  "Hmm," Bevan said. "Can we just travel to the Fixed Plane and go to St. Augustine?"

  "St. Augustine!?”

  "Familiars, of course, are capable of traveling between worlds, but this is such a strange corner of the magical realms,” Piers said. “It doesn't feel like any place I've been. Actually, it feels more like the Fixed Plane, but a very haunted bit of it. One of those spots you don't mess with.”

  “Something got here from St. Augustine,” Bevan said, holding up the jewelry.

  "I--I might be able to draw us to St. Augustine," I said. "Because Bernard is there. I could follow his call. And I think I could bring the rest of you. But then I'll have to face him."

  "So face him," Variel said. "You can do it, and maybe you even should tell him just what you think of him and how he treated you, the way you told me. You'll never be free until you do."

  "It's true," Bevan said. "Even if we found the cloak, you might still need to reckon with Bernard. There's nothing to be afraid of. You have me, and..."

  "Us," Piers said. "You have all of us."

  I nodded. "Bevan...while you were gone...Bernard tried to summon me back, and Variel and Piers held me here. We didn’t move too fast…but they did…distract me.”

  "You did have my blessing,” Bevan said. “They weren't better than me, were they?"

  "No!"

  "But Bevan isn't better than me either, is he?" Variel demanded.

  "You are all perfect."

  They both gave Piers a skeptical look that he tried to ignore. "Bevan, what exactly happened in the temple?" he said. "How do you know for sure that someone took the first cloak of a familiar?"

  "I heard voices. Ghosts," Bevan said. "They said that it was stolen, just as I found the jewelry."

  "So it's still a bit of assumption..."

  "I would not be one bit surprised," Variel said. "When Jameson was looking into the origins of familiars in the library of Etherium, he ran into familiars from St. Augustine who were doing the same."

  "Ah...is that so?" Piers said. "We'll get a very harsh reception there in St. Augustine if Celeste can get us there…”

  "Yes..." My fists clenched.

  I wanted all of us to be strong. I knew Variel would need several days to recover.

  When I shut my eyes, I could still hear Bernard's voice deep inside me, that lonely call. I knew now that what bound me to Bernard was this ancient betrayal. It had never been love. I never wanted to see him again.

  But they were all counting on me now, to use that bond to save their lives, to get us off this island.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  To Her Majesty Queen Morgana,

  I'm sorry to report this. We successfully reached what appeared to be the island with the temple of the familiars. As planned, Bevan flew to the temple alone to investigate. After a full day, he hadn't returned, and Variel, Piers and Jenny decided to attempt a flight on Variel's wings to help him. They departed on December the 19th, and we watched the island night and day.

  Unfortunately, we never saw any signal or sign of life on the island. Finn, Lorian and I did seriously consider trying to go there ourselves in the rowboat, but in the end, we're just merchants, and I can't think of a single scenario where we would be able to help if four individuals who collectively overpower us in every sort of strength encountered a mortal danger.

  We waited there until our crew was near mutiny and our food stores ran low—three full weeks.

  I still despair over it. I had to protect the crew. I'm afraid that those four brave souls might be lost, and the mysteries of the familiars with them. The island really is a foreboding and downright terrifying place, where even a sea dragon took a look and said, if you’ll forgive my colloquial language: Hell no.

  Of course, I leave any rescue attempts to your own judgment, but...I'm more of a realist than a dreamer, I guess. Daisy can tell you.

  Certainly not what anyone wanted to hear, in the end. I'm very sorry, and my condolences to any friends and family, from all of us on the ship.

  Sincerely,

  Cash

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Ten Years Later

  “That’s the island.”

  Jameson and Gillian looked out at the gray sea, and the lonely dark blotch against the thick clouds, after Finn told them they had finally reached the spot.

  Having prospered in the theater for these past ten years, now heading his own Shakespearean touring company that delighted the fae all across the realm and receiving acclaim, gold and gifts for his turns as Macbeth, Hamlet, and Iago, he had finally taken this break to pay his respects. To g
ive their master the funeral he would never have. He had paid a handsome sum to hire this crew, but it felt like the only way to truly get any closure.

  They all wiped their tears, Jameson and his wife and their oldest friend Uram. Jameson and Gillian had brought their two lovely winged little girls with them, now nine and seven years old, and they spent the day toasting and drinking to Lord Variel the Devourer, sharing old stories of their favorite moments when he pretended to hate them but actually gave them some small kindness, of working in the castle, of the feasts they had of the game he caught for holidays, and the way he had started to change as he fell in love with a sweet little toad shifter.

  “It really is a shame,” Jameson sighed.

  “Oh, poor Miss Jenny,” Gillian said, wiping her tears. “And Bevan, too. They were so happy.”

  “What happened, Mama?”

  “They died on that island?”

  “I like to think they didn’t,” Jameson said, sighing into his cup of rum. “I like to think they’re there still and we just can’t get to them. But a decade has passed, and no one ever heard from them again.”

  “No one?”

  “Well, we check in with their families,” Gillian said. “Jenny’s warlock, and Piers’ clan, and Lord Sartel.” A new demon had claimed Variel’s abandoned castle.

  Just in case this was true, they set off flares to let Variel and his comrades know that the ship was in reach. But after a few days, the island remained as dark as Cash said it had always been, and they pulled up anchor and sailed home, having cast flowers into the sea.

  Remember when Helena said that they didn’t know where Bevan was for twelve years? You think I forgot? I did not! I probably forgot some other things. But at least I didn’t forget that.

  Unless plans change (and you never do know), the next book will be the last of the entire saga of the realms of Sinistral, Etherium and Wyrd. It started with the light-hearted standalone Tempted by Demons, which I decided on a whim to set in a world I used to write about now and then. I dove in more seriously with A Witch Among Warlocks, a four-book series that really started delving into the lives of witches and familiars, vampires and demons and fae. I’ve had so, so much fun following these characters around across many books and it’s all thanks to you that I was able to keep pulling story threads.