From the outside, the situation was ridiculous. Brother Ramsay and Ned babied him through several plans, most of which they needed to repeat several times until the details penetrated the fog of shock that surrounded Eric. They reassured him and plied him with more tea as Eric looked through them all. Some he agreed to immediately. Selling the horses? Fine, he didn’t care. Others – leasing out use of the ports that made Marrawshire so profitable – he would have to look over the details and ask Ned to explain it properly to him later when Ramsay wasn’t around. For now, he promised to think through them all.
“It sounds like Miss Petra has been thinking ahead,” said Ned encouragingly when Eric mentioned that she might do something with the country house’s gardens.
“Any repayments to the temple, we would report it as a generous tithe, to reduce the tax,” added Ramsay. Eric could have hugged the man at this point.
“Great,” said Eric faintly. “Let’s do that.”
“I’ll draw up a summary for you to have a look at,” promised Ned, “If you’ll bear with me, we’ll draw the agreement for repayment up now.”
As he left the room, Ramsay peered at Eric quickly. “Your Lordship. There’s something else I would like to mention while we are alone. I deeply beg your pardon for this intrusion.”
Eric grimaced at Ramsay’s tone. “Just come out with it, Brother.”
“As you may know, my order is tasked by our King with the purification of the demonic across the lands,” said Ramsay haltingly. “And while I am not of the demon-hunting ranks within my order, all members are trained in the sight of the demonic.”
Eric frowned. This was a different direction, he could not anticipate what Ramsay was hinting at. Eric had neverinteracted with the king’s demon hunters before, since they tended to avoid both Ixthan and Ceronzar. “Yes, I’m aware.”
“I’m afraid… I’m afraid Your Lordship has a touch of the demonic inside him,” said Ramsay apologetically, with the air of someone breaking the news that Eric might have a cold. “And periods of turbulence are when demons strike most commonly, taking advantage of humans undergoing difficult times.”
“You think I’m possessed because my father was just executed?” Eric could only blink up at the man from his chair.
“No, not at all,” Ramsay said quickly. “Only that you are susceptible to the lures of a demon and may have attracted the attention of one.”
Eric didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He didn’t know how to tell Ramsay with his open, earnest face that he’d been susceptible to the lures of one particular demon for years now, and he could be reasonably certain he’d attracted his attention recently. In fact, if Ramsay could detect a touch of the demonic stillinsidehim… Ye gods. Eric half considered throwing himself into the fire to get away from this conversation.
“I spend a lot of time with Prince Ixthan,” said Eric, hoping his voice sounded even halfway normal. “I had to borrow this cravat from him after mine met with an unfortunate demise this morning. Could that be why?”
Ramsay did not believe him. Eric could see it in his eyes. But Ned returned then, with paperwork for them to sign and they both thankfully let the topic drop.
Eric returned to the palace feeling equally discombobulated as he had left it, though for entirely different reasons. Though his first instinct was to immediately check on Ix, he made a much-needed detour to his own rooms. He carefully removed Ix’s cravat though not without one last guilty inhale of the perfume, and dunked his entire face in freezing cold water. Hejust needed a few moments to himself. Just to be alone with his thoughts, or lack of thoughts.
If any demon out there could offer him a blessing of forgetfulness, Eric thought he’d be sorely tempted to take it. And then he laughed at himself for being so dramatic. He wiped his face and hands dry carefully and as he checked his reflection, he noticed something strange about his necklace. It was glowing.
Eric normally didn’t see it, tucked inside his shirt, but it had rucked up when he’d taken the cravat off. Carefully, he ran his thumb under the chain and pulled it out properly. The amber stone pulsed steadily, though there was no heat, getting brighter.
“Ix? Ixthan? Are you all right?” Eric dropped everything and dashed across the wing, shouting into the corridor. He skidded to a halt outside of Ix’s bedroom door and threw the doors open so hard they banged against the wall. Empty. He dashed to the study next. Also empty. The amber was a heat against his chest now.
The final door was the parlor and Eric nearly collapsed when he saw Ix. He had company. A demon. Over eight feet tall, with enormous antlers that protruded from his head, furred from the neck down with the hind legs of a deer. A strangely incongruent tail, bushy like a squirrel’s except it was enormous, the entire height of him, enshrouded in shadows that obscured half of him from view. The demon had a hand around Ixthan’s throat, lifting him bodily off the ground. Eric blanched.
“Eric. What’s the matter?” asked Ixthan, as if this was an everyday occurrence, his feet barely scraping the ground.
“Oh gods! Do I – how – um, begone!” yelled Eric, forgetting every basic demon-repelling sermon he’d ever heard.
“No,” said the demon, with some amusement.
“It’s all right, it’s Lymond,” said Ix, gesturing up and down at the demon. The face, largely obscured by a swirling mass of shadows, peeled apart like rotting fruit to reveal Damian ofLymond’s face, perched incongruously on top of… whatever the rest of him was.
“I see,” said Eric faintly, and lowered himself into the side of the sofa furthest from Lymond. So this was Damaris then. The shadows slithered over Damian’s face again and Eric swallowed before he could gag from the sight of it.
“I’m sorry, they’re just testing out a theory,” said Archie. Eric screamed again; he hadn’t even seen the man, tucked away as he was in an armchair. He held a notebook, in which he was earnestly scribbling notes and gave Eric a timid smile. Eric had no idea how he was acting so normally confronted with the way Damaris’s body ebbed and flowed, but he supposed Archie had to be used to it.
Eric got a hold of himself. “Right. Good. Yes, that’s good. What’s the theory?”
“Um, there’s a few theories. They’re trying to see if Prince Ixthan’s magic was dispelled or if it has been consumed, or whether it’s his access to magic that has been blocked, I’m to understand,” said Archie, flicking back a few pages and showing Eric his notes. He and Damaris must have arrived not long after he left, judging by the number of things they’d tried although none of it made sense to Eric.
“And where does the strangling come in?” asked Eric. Damaris was growing taller before them – something his eyes refused to acknowledge was happening – and Ix’s feet were swinging clear in the air now.
“It’s, uh,” said Archie before looking into the distance. Eric turned to see what he was looking at, but it was just a random patch of wall. “I’m sorry, I’m not very used to this yet. The talking out loud and magically at the same time thing. Damaris says sometimes a demon’s magic can react to when the demon is in peril.”
