A Den of Tricks
“This is an evil, violent, and turbulent world, Miss Hellswan,” Caspian replied. “The good of the many outweighs the good of the few, and you know it.”
I cursed under my breath and gave him a brief, sullen nod in response. Heavy growls sent shivers down my spine, and I looked over the edge again—giant daemons sauntered across another bridge not far from us, pushing the smaller, weaker fiends to the side.
“They’re freaking huge,” I gasped, my eyes nearly popping out of their orbits as I took in their incredible size. They were twice as big as the daemons we’d encountered before, with double the muscle mass and thick, burly arms and necks. “I bet it would take five or six of us just to tackle one and maybe live to see another day…”
“Which is why we need to keep a low profile.” Caspian pulled me back again, his grip firm on my right arm. “We need to get to the other side of the city. There’s someone there who can help with the information you need to prepare a campaign against the daemons.”
“Why won’t you spare us the trouble of trekking through a damn daemon city and give us the information yourself?” I raised an eyebrow at him.
“Because I took an oath of silence on these matters,” he finally relented with a deep sigh. He looked at all of us, and shook his head slowly. “You wouldn’t understand, but I’ll try to explain anyway. As an Exiled Mara and the heir to House Kifo, I take my oaths very seriously, even when everything in my body and conscience tell me otherwise. I swore to keep certain things secret until the right time comes along for me to speak up, but it won’t stop me from taking you to see someone who can tell you what I can’t. It is the best I can offer, at this point in time.”
“How will we get across to the other side of the city, then, given the variety of fiends waiting for us down there?” Blaze frowned.
Caspian pointed at a narrow set of stairs just twenty yards to the right, carved into the wall. They led somewhere below, and were bordered by large, sharp chunks of obsidian.
“We’ll go around,” he replied. “There are several routes that the daemons barely use in these parts of town. They’re narrow enough for us to slip through and kill any fiend we might come across without causing a stir. It’ll take us farther to the other side, where we can sneak between huts, undetected.”
I braced myself for what came next. My heartrate increased as Caspian took my hand and guided me toward the stairs. The others followed quietly, but I could feel the tension mounting as we descended. The closer we got to the daemons, the harder it was to breathe.
Whatever came next, we had to pull through. Caspian’s hold on me helped a little, soothing some of my frayed nerves; it was enough for me to focus and use my True Sight along the way, looking out for daemons who might get too close and see us through the obsidian gaps. Down here, nobody bothered to hide.
Down here, the daemons could be themselves, and we were the ones hiding.
Oh, how the roles have changed…
Scarlett
(Daughter of Jeramiah & Pippa)
We’d been scouring the city library’s archives for several hours. Patrik looked through all the scientific papers available, while I took notes from pages of local lore—though we only had the Exiled Maras’ written words to go on. There was absolutely nothing from the Imen’s culture.
Patrik nervously flipped through the pages of a science journal that analyzed the effects of the asteroid belt on the Nerakian fauna and flora. There were patterns that the ancient Maras had identified, but they mostly concerned the impact of the asteroids in conjunction with the alignment of the three moons. He was beginning to lose patience, and it wasn’t like him.
“Are you okay?” I asked, taking a quick break from my notes. My survey of local lore hadn’t yielded any useful insights, other than the Maras’ suspicion that the asteroids influenced dreams during certain periods of time.
“Not really,” Patrik replied, pinching the bridge of his nose, a clear sign that tension was building up inside him. “I just can’t find anything useful. There’s no data on how to potentially disrupt the asteroids’ effect on communications and spells, but there are plenty of hypotheses on how they actually affect the planet. It’s like the Maras have plenty of information on the problem, but absolutely nothing on a solution.”
I looked down at my book, a three-hundred-year-old volume of folklore, and sighed. I had nothing to offer him either, but we couldn’t stop searching. We had to find a way to reach out to Calliope, and we definitely needed a way off the planet, sooner rather than later.
“I don’t think we’re done here yet,” I offered. “We’ll find something eventually. It has to be in here somewhere…”
“What if it isn’t?” He frowned, concern darkening his steely blue eyes. “What if this is all there is? What if we find nothing and I have no means of helping our team with those wretched asteroids? What if these are my limits?”
“Patrik, it’s not… I don’t think it will come to that,” I replied, not liking his hopelessness. Patrik was our beacon of light, the Druid with enough knowledge to get us out of any conundrum, no matter how difficult. It wasn’t in his nature to be so negative and frustrated, and it clawed at my stomach to see him like this. “I think we need a bit more patience, and to exhaust all our options here before we start looking elsewhere. It’s what we do…”
He leaned against the back of his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, sulking. His breathing was heavy, judging by how his chest moved up and down. His brow furrowed, and a vein started pulsating in his temple. He was getting anxious, even angry, and I had no idea what I could do to get him out of that state.
Anger never produced results, or even any good ideas. It was a destructive emotion and adverse to a Druid’s ethos.
“What if this is it? What if we’re stuck here for the rest of our lives?” Patrik muttered.
I shook my head, instantly rejecting that premise. There was no way that was happening. My family, my friends… my life… It was all back in The Shade and on Calliope, with GASP. I had no intention of spending an eternity on Neraka, surrounded by daemons and secretive Maras and brainwashed Imen. The mere concept of such powerlessness made my stomach churn in painful ways.
“That’s not happening, Patrik,” I replied, feeling my muscles tense and harden under the pressure of such grim thoughts.
“I’m feeling so damn helpless right now, Scarlett.” He looked at me, the pained look on his face too much for me to handle. “I should be able to fix this somehow. I should be able to help my team get through this, and I’m just so… powerless. How do I make this right?”
He was so nervous and insecure—I’d never seen this side of Patrik. On one hand it was endearing to see him in this light, to know he had weak spots despite his prowess in the magical arts. But it really wasn’t going to help us now. I needed Patrik at the top of his game.
I exhaled deeply and decided to do something that would disrupt his current state.
I need to shock him somehow…
“There’s nothing here to—” He tried to speak, but I cupped his face and kissed him, pressing my lips against his for a few deliciously long seconds. It was the only thing I could think of. And it felt so good. Time seemed to stop as I relished the sensation produced by his lips. His skin was so soft against my fingertips, I had a hard time letting go.
My heart fluttered in my chest, the taste of him lingering on my lips long after I pulled myself back. I needed a moment to catch my breath, my eyes closed as I struggled to regain my composure. The effect that Patrik had on me was far more powerful than I’d thought, and the kiss was vivid proof, as my brain had switched off.
Not a single thought passed through my head for about a minute, but my blood simmered. Tingling sensations traveled through my chest, gathering in my stomach before they dissolved into a peculiar but wonderful warmth spreading all over.
I opened my eyes and found Patrik staring at me, dumbfounded. His lips were parted, and his heart th
undered in his chest, the frantic beating captured by my vampire senses. He was speechless, and I couldn’t help but smile softly.
“What… What…” he managed, his voice barely audible. He blinked several times, trying to make sense of what had just happened.
“I had to do something.” I shrugged, my cheeks catching fire. “You were spiraling out of control with all that negativity. I’m sorry…”
“No, don’t… I…”
His eyes lit up, and he lost his train of thought along the way. I knew that look. He had an idea.
“I know what to do,” he mumbled, straightening his back.
I can’t believe it worked…
“You do?” I croaked, now realizing the full impact that kissing him had on me. Ironically, he was snapping back to his old self, the confident Patrik that I’d fallen for, while I was melting on the inside, unable to string together a single coherent thought.
“Yes, I… I think I’ve got it.” He stood, reenergized and downright beaming with excitement. He took my hands and pulled me up to my feet, closing the distance between us to the point where barely a few inches separated our lips. “Thank you, Scarlett. It was a strange method you employed to snap me out of it, but it worked. We’ll have to talk about this later, but for now… we need to go.”
I nodded slowly, losing myself in his gaze for a split second before he guided me out of the reading room and back to the library’s main reception. He’d said we’d talk about it later, but what did that mean? Was I in some sort of trouble?
Pretty sure you’ve been in trouble since you first laid eyes on him, girl…
“There’s an ancient Druid spell I can use,” he said as we rushed down the circular staircase leading toward the main hall. “It’s part of the forbidden dark arts scrolls that Draven found at Stonewall, and it didn’t immediately spring to mind, but I think I can perform it here. I can aim it at the asteroid belt directly and try to disrupt its flow in space, but I’ll need some ingredients for it… Certain crystals and herbs.”
“Do you think the Maras have them?” I asked, finally able to speak as the concept of a forbidden spell set in. It meant we actually stood a chance after all.
“They might, if they brought some with them from Calliope,” he replied as we reached the reception desk. “If not, I could try to replace them with local ingredients and try the spell at a shorter range first, just to test it until I get the formula right. Either way, you were right, Scarlett. We can do this.”
My heart was doing expert somersaults at that point, as I was thrilled to have been able to give Patrik the support he desperately needed during such trying times. It filled me with a kind of happiness that I’d never experienced before. The Imen currently working in reception shifted their focus to us, producing faint but warm smiles.
“How can we help you?” one of them asked.
“I was wondering where we could find certain crystals, powders, and plants that the Maras may have brought over from Calliope when they first arrived here,” Patrik replied. “Surely they must have brought stuff over that wasn’t endemic to Neraka, right?”
The two Imen looked at each other, then back at us, and nodded.
“You might find what you’re looking for at the Spring Fair,” the first Iman said. “It just so happens that it starts tomorrow.”
“Ah, we’ll have to wait until tomorrow.” Patrik shook his head with disappointment.
“Well, you can also try Master Specter’s store on the first level, if you’re in a hurry,” the second Iman replied. “He usually opens a stall during the Spring Fair, as well. You could check with him first before the Spring Fair. He closes at midnight, so you still have some time.”
“Thank you.” Patrik beamed at the Imen with renewed enthusiasm, then gave me a confident wink. “Let’s go see Master Specter.”
He kept holding my hand as we left the library and rushed down the alleys and stone steps leading to the first level. The evening had set in cool shades of purple in the sky, the streetlamps were lit, and people had begun to scatter away to their homes.
My pulse raced as I followed Patrik, his touch making my arm tingle. I couldn’t believe I’d actually kissed him. My courage had come out of nowhere, and it had disappeared just as fast. But I’d kissed Patrik, and the feeling that lingered over my lips was proof that I hadn’t imagined it.
I held my breath whenever he glanced at me. All I could think of were the consequences of my gesture. How did this change the dynamic between us? Would it have a negative impact? Was he going to tell me I made a mistake?
Did I, though? Did I make a mistake? Or am I just overthinking this?
How couldn’t I overthink it? I’d just freakin’ kissed Patrik.
Avril
(Daughter of Lucas & Marion)
We looked around on the third level of the city, asking the occasional passing Iman to show us where Lemuel’s bookstore was. One young Iman girl pointed us the right way, and, shortly after we’d left Cynara and Hera back at the South Bend Inn, we found the old Iman’s place.
The lights were off. Heron and I quickly circled the house, listening and looking for any sign of movement inside, but the place was empty.
“We need to get inside, though,” I said, checking to see if anyone was coming by. Lemuel’s house was on a relatively secluded street, and the evening shade did a pretty good job of further concealing it. “I have to catch his scent from an object he has touched.”
“Okay, I can help with that.” Fiona smirked and produced a pin from her hair, which she used to pick the lock on the main door, while Heron and I kept a lookout.
The lock’s mechanism surrendered with a click, and Fiona pushed the door open. We went inside and began our survey of the place, without turning any lights on. The bookstore was on the ground floor—a quaint little place with wooden shelves and racks loaded with a variety of books, scrolls, and literary papers. Judging by the titles, there were some Imen works being sold; the Imen author names carried the mention of their species on the covers. I figured the titles were necessary to differentiate between the Maras and Imen.
There was a small reception desk in a corner, behind a circular staircase leading upstairs. Farther to the right, there was a kitchen area separated from the bookstore with a wooden panel, on which various literary scenes were illustrated in broad and colorful brush strokes. The opposite corner held a reading space, complete with a bench and two velvet armchairs, and molten candles on a side table.
Heron followed me upstairs, while Fiona kept looking through the shelves.
“Maybe there’s something useful here about the asteroid belt,” she whispered before I started up the stairs.
“Fair enough,” I replied. “I’ll look for something of Lemuel’s in the meantime.”
The top floor was spacious and modestly furnished, with a bedroom, an open living room, a kitchenette, and a tiled bathroom. I found a coat thrown on the armrest of one of the lounge chairs, and briefly sniffed it. Lemuel’s scent reminded me of crisp autumn mornings, a mixture of burnt wood, fallen leaves, and crushed grapes filling my senses.
“Got it?” Heron watched me, his jade eyes flickering with curiosity. I gave him a brief nod, and he moved back toward the stairs. “Let’s go, then.”
I followed him back to the ground floor, where Fiona was sifting through the bookshelves, checking each volume carefully before putting it back.
“We’re going to track Lemuel,” I said slowly. “Do you want to stay here and keep looking through the books, Fi? Or do you want to come with us? It’s up to you.”
“I’ll stay here.” She gave me a reassuring smile. “If anything, I’ll see you two later, at the infirmary. I’ve got that dinner to get to, anyway, so I’ll just hang out here until it’s time to go change.”
“Ah, yes, you’ll have to get all pretty and fabulous to knock Vincent off his feet.” Heron grinned playfully, and I gave up on nudging him for his taunts. I actually found his banter atte
mpts cute, even endearing at times. His sense of humor and lightheartedness made our compulsory stay on Neraka a bit more bearable.
“At least I’ll be treated to a fancy dinner and not be roaming through this wretched city at night, unlike other people I know,” Fiona shot back, wiggling her eyebrows.
I chuckled as we left her in the bookstore and took to the streets to look for Lemuel. His scent lingered heavily in the air, and I could confidently follow it down the alley leading into the western part of the third level.
“Do you think Lemuel is keeping those hidden archives back there?” Heron asked as we walked through a thinning crowd of Imen and Maras. Most were going home, but some wore black uniforms and were headed to the city’s inns and bars for the night shift—I could tell from the crisp scent of fresh laundry, along with the fragrances and other toiletries they’d used to look their part as servants in certain establishments.
“In the bookstore, you mean?” I asked, and he replied with a nod. “Maybe, but not in plain sight, and we don’t have Harper to help us with her True Sight. If he’s keeping them at his place, they’re well hidden. Lemuel doesn’t strike me as a careless Iman, based on what scents I caught in his house.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, he uses a lot of detergents around the place, and those substances can really throw a tracker’s nose off the grand prize,” I said. “It’s why I needed to sniff his coat to get a good trail. You wouldn’t notice it at first, but that bookstore would normally smell like old books, ink soaked into pages, and even a little mold and dust from the older stuff he keeps in there. But it smells of… brandy and lime, incense and something akin to bleach. That place was scrubbed clean.”
“Maybe he was doing some spring cleaning in there.” Heron gave me an amused sideways glance as we turned left into another alley.