“Seriously, Jas?” Oriel groans as his eyes flitter from the smallest tent to the large one we’re standing closest to. “This is such a bad fucking plan.”
X frowns, giving me an uncertain expression before they nod. “I second that, man. Too much risk of being identified.”
Slash grunts, his eyes flashing with the demon I saw in the ring, as he studies the small encampment carefully. “Nothing out of the ordinary for what it is.”
My temper flares and I stomp my foot on Jasper’s toe. “Hey! Someone tell me what in the fresh hell this is and why we’re split on… whatever it is.”
“Aw, shit, KK,” Salem says as he rubs the back of his neck. “Our bad, dude.”
“Still not telling me what’s going on.” I pull my hand out of the shark’s grasp and cross my arms over my chest. Dottie moves closer, pressing her fur against my skin to help me stay in balance. “I want to be part of the decision, too.”
Anton bites his lip and I know that means he’s formulating his answer. The peacock shifter is very precise with explanations, and I sense he wants to be clear about this shanty town. “The Acolytes of Barbatos are a rare but powerful group of demons from every line who have sought various supernaturals who have the sight to breed with. Some are full-blooded and some are hybrids, but they are always present at large gatherings of our kind to visit—if you are.”
Blinking rapidly, I swallow as I process his words. I don’t fully understand the lore—how could I—but I know Barbatos was once a duke of Hell. He solved disagreements, but he also revealed hidden things and was said to have knowledge of the future and past. Demons in his legion breeding with… seers… would explain that mythos, I guess. But no matter how much sense that makes, this group of demons could be very dangerous for me.
If they find out my big secret and feel betrayed enough, they might leave me here and I wouldn’t survive on my own.
Salem’s eyes find mine as my pulse quickens, and the bear shakes his head slightly. I think that’s his way of telling me I don’t need to worry, but he’s not the new guy hiding a very important piece of information from a paranoid prince. I look at Xerxes next and they don’t seem as certain, but I could be misreading it. I’m not as good at eyebrow discussion as them, and this really isn’t the place to test that skill.
“Why—why would we visit those demons?” I ask, hoping to distract the others from my escalating pulse. “Wouldn’t asking them stuff reveal things we don’t want known?”
Jasper grimaces, then sighs. “Perhaps. We will be required to provide payment for their services, but I know several things about these nomads from my father’s incessant ramblings.”
I wait, arching a brow as the Prince attempts to formulate his response. There can’t be a benefit to seeking their knowledge greater than the risk of being exposed here or to the court. And for me personally, it would definitely need to be extremely beneficial to take the chance with them.
“The Acolytes ask for high prices because they are unerringly accurate—though their words must be untangled and analyzed to understand. They will insist that we don the robes of truth as we seek their guidance, which will cover Slash’s ass until we get home. If we can bargain for each one of us to sit with one of their elder diviners, the amount of knowledge we’ll eventually decipher will be enough to leave this mess afterward.”
Okay, that’s pretty fucking tempting.
“Damn, J,” Oriel breathes as he looks around, then glances at me worriedly. “Talk about the pits or the Wastelands… We’re smack dab in the middle of shitty choices all day today, man.”
Zavida frowns and I know he’s running variables in his head. His mind is calmed by logical processes and considering probabilities is likely a way he self-soothes. Unfortunately, I have zero clue how the fuck he’s going to quantify this shit for his actuarial analysis. “The longer we stay, the bigger chance we have of being identified and thus forced to face the idiot running this. We don’t know how emboldened he will be by this fiefdom and all the energy he’s feeding off of everyone within.”
“Gross,” I grumble. I don’t like the idea of anyone ‘feeding’ off my shit, much less the cartoon villain I’ve built up in my head to represent Luca Gemini.
“However, striking a bargain with the Acolytes has lasting consequences and could also reveal us if we do not craft the words carefully,” Anton says thoughtfully. “They do not align with any side or species because of their powers; they’re just crystal balls for hire. It’s not likely they will share our details unless it comes up in one of their prophecies, and even then, the receiver will need a skilled interpreter to help understand their ramblings.”
“You’re saying they won’t snitch, right?” Salem says as rakes his hand through his hair. “They’re like… uh, what do humans say, KK?”
“Switzerland,” I reply with a frown. “But, um, that’s not actually a good thing historically. I mean, they didn’t take a side, but they hid and profited off of Nazi stuff, which really isn’t neutral. They were profiteers more than anything—is that what these guys are?”
“Yes.” The big guy is eying the scary tents with a dark frown. “They are often descended from the Greed and Sloth lines because they place personal gain and power over action and loyalty. It seems Salem’s comparison was apt, and it is why the royal forces, including my father, are averse to their use. The General has had many deeply fracturing disagreements with the King about them over the long duration of his rule.”
“That’s one vote ‘no’, then, I guess?” I ask as I look at the protective dude curiously.
He crosses his enormous arms over his chest, shaking his head. “I don’t know, little demon. Zavida is also correct about the statistics of being in this place for too long, and Anton has made a salient point about their ambiguity. This is a tough decision.”
For once, Jasper and Slash aren’t the confident, blunt guys I’ve gotten used to seeing. It might only be this moment, but they’re clearly caught up in both what they’ve been taught and a desire to achieve our caliphate goals. The other guys are being cautious about their advice—maybe because they, too, have concerns—and the longer we wait, the more eyes I feel on us from the Acolytes’ camp.
These demons are watching us, waiting to see if we’ll give in to the temptation of finding out things the universe doesn’t intend for us to know yet—for their price, of course.
“Fuck it,” I mutter as I scrounge up every bit of courage I have in my body. Moving away from my caliphate, I approach the tent in the center. It’s neither the biggest or smallest, but the energy seeping from it has been tickling my skin for the past few moments. I don’t know if that means I should or shouldn’t be using this one, but at this point? The choice has been made. “Yo, scary fortune tellers. Let’s parlay.”
“Mammon’s never-ending buffet… Does heeverthink before he does shit?” Jasper groans.
Ignoring him, I wait until an oddly pleasant looking robed demon exits the skull encrusted dwelling. He’s short, rotund, and has a piggish nose with small, pointed horns. I assume his non-threatening nature is a guise—living at Discordia has taught me that even the least intimidating demons can reveal scary as fuck transformations. “Are you the acolyte I should speak to?”
The friar-like demon smiles, his mouth full of teeth as terrifying as Slash’s, and then nods. “I am, young one. Come with me to my perch so I might read you. Then the bargaining shall begin.”
