Eric took a moment to discreetly examine him but gods, he couldn’t tell that Lymond wasn’t human at all. He could feel that strange haze pressing at his mind too, now he knew to look for it, that insisted that he’d known Lymond for years.
“Good afternoon, Lymond,” said Eric cautiously. He wasn’t scared, he had more experience than most at being left alone in a room with a demon, but still. This wasn’t his demon. “That is – should I continue to address you as Lymond?”
“Lord Marrawshire,” said Lymond with a bow. “I see our good prince has bestowed his protection on you. I assume you know the truth of me then.”
All the demons Eric had met were so sarcastic and dry. Was that a demonic trait? “I – think so?” Eric touched where the necklace lay under his shirt self-consciously.
“Then Lymond is sufficient,” said the demon Damaris, also known as Damian of Lymond. He looked so normal. So real. “Tell me. I’m curious to know why you wished to meet behind Ixthan’s back.”
“I’m not keeping secrets from him,” said Eric, trying not to let the strangeness of the encounter rattle him. He’d come with a clear purpose in mind: to ask Lymond for help. Any pride or discomfort he felt was worth it, if he could do that. “I just want to know what Jasper offered you.”
A human might have expressed surprise, or disdain, or some sort of emotion but Lymond was blank, as if he wasn’t too used to changing his facial expression. Eric could feel the slightest nudge, just a suggestion in his mind that reassured him Lymond had reacted appropriately and he should feel warmer toward him. He batted the thought away, grateful for the necklace.
“Immunity,” said Lymond after a moment. Eric hadn’t expected him to be so forthcoming with the answer, but he understood immediately. Prince Jasper was the crown heir. His word came with a legitimacy that Ix’s couldn’t promise, because Jasper would one day become king.
“Not friendship?” Eric’s heart was in his mouth.
Lymond looked actually interested at that. Even Archie made a sound. The demon was silent for a long moment. The most unnerving thing was realizing that he didn’t have to blink or breathe. Eventually, he said: “I see why he likes you.”
Eric flinched. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Lie to yourself if you must.” Lymond looked unbothered. “What then, I continue coming to your parties? Play cards and roll dice?”
“Why not? I have memories of you enjoying yourself.”
“Hm. I did like the little pastries,” said Lymond. “Why don’t you tell me what you want, and I’ll think about it.”
“But not in that way,” said Archie hurriedly. “He doesn’t mean a demonic deal.”
Eric looked from Archie, to Lymond, and back again. Lymond shrugged, an uneven gesture almost as if he weren’t used to having bones, the first sign that he wasn’t entirely human. Again, that whisper of magic brushed against Eric’s mind, telling him that it had looked completely normal.
Archie flushed, and hurried away to tend to the tea again. Eric decided to focus on the important thing here: he explained Ix’s collapse, how he found him, everything he could remember about the situation, Ix’s theory of exorcism, all details Ix had omitted in his first letter.
Damaris snorted. “I told him it was a foolish thing to try.”
“So it’s true then? He exorcised his demon side?” asked Eric, his stomach sinking.
“I have never been exorcised, so I wouldn’t know.” Lymond looked genuinely interested, but in the way of a voyeur excited at seeing a terrible accident. “But his magic is clearly extant.”
“What do you mean? I said he can’t use any magic anymore.”
“Whatever protective ward lies on you. That is his own magic creation, is it not?”
“My necklace? Yes, he enchanted it himself.” Eric reached to take the necklace off before remembering that it was the only thing ridding him of Lymond’s magical influence.
“Ahhh, I almost had you,” said Lymond with a lazy grin. Eric scowled. Instead, he hooked the chain out from under his shirt and held it out for Lymond to examine.
Lymond didn’t need to touch it; he barely needed to even look at it. “Interesting. If it had been extinguished, then I would have said his demon half had perished entirely. And though the magic still works, I cannot feel its connection to its maker. His demonic half may yet be recoverable but where it is, I cannot say.”
“Can you help?”
“Can I?” mused Lymond. “Yes. ButcanI? We shall have to see.”
Eric scowled, tucking the necklace safely back in his clothes, trying to figure out what that was supposed to mean.
“Eric?” asked Archie. Eric started; he’d almost forgotten about Archie, but there he was with the tea. “I’m sorry, what he’s trying to say is that we would like to help but we’re unsure if we are, ah, permitted. Can’t the palace mages do anything with this information?”
Eric thought it through. If Lymond had to report back to Jasper on any help he provided Ix, then Ix would likely much rather Jasper not know. Which meant that information and knowledge was the extent of Lymond’s help. Ix was protective over how much other people knew of his magical knowledge, as evidenced by how upset he’d been that Eric had shown the healer mage the etchings on the mirror.
