“Well enough.” Something in Ix’s tone warned Eric not to continue the conversation here, so Eric didn’t press. Just gathered up his things, thanked Prince Ceronzar and ushered Ramsey back down the stairs. They’d arrange for the mirror some other time.
Donning the little masks felt so trivial now, especially as anyone they passed stared unsubtly at them, clearly aware they had caused the commotion upstairs. Eric hoped they were charging Ceron vast amounts of money for his extended lodging.
“If Your Highness no longer requires my services, I think I’ll walk back to the temple,” Ramsay said when they got outside.
“Are you sure?” asked Eric. The cut on Ramsay’s cheek already looked as if it were days old, neatly scabbed over, but it was difficult to reconcile the man up and moving before him with the injuries Eric had seen with his two eyes only moments ago.
“Yes, I think the wind will do me some good,” said Ramsay with a wry smile. “If you require anything else, please just say the word, Your Highness. The temple appreciates your generous donation.”
Eric raised an eyebrow. “Generous donation? To the temple? From Ix?”
Ramsay froze. And immediately scuttled away down the street. That, more than anything else, was what gave it away. Eric whirled on Ix. “Ixthan, what did you do?”
Ix held the door to the cab open for Eric as if he was some maiden. Eric scowled, but got into the carriage anyway. He was cold, godsdamnit. “Made a generous donation to the temple, youheard the nice priest. I thought it only fair to reimburse him for his service.”
But they’d gone to the temple together, spoken to Ramsay together, traveled back to the molly-house together. When had Ix had time to donate to the temple? Unless it was before all of these events, in which case — oh.
“I’m going to find out you paid off my debts to the temple the moment I try to make a payment and they tell me there’s no debt,” said Eric dangerously, struggling to keep his voice even.
“Oh, hm. An oversight on my part,” said Ix. And then he clutched at his chest, his entire body spasming.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
ERIC DROPPED TOthe floor of the cab to try and see Ix’s face. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
Ix grunted. The muscle in his jaw clenched as he gritted out, “It hurts. Get me home.”
Knocking on the roof of the carriage, Eric called up to the driver, “To the palace, as fast as you can!”
There was nothing Eric could do but watch, helplessly, as Ix hunched over. He collapsed to the floor, so ungainly and hard that Eric felt a sympathetic wince in his own knees, clutching as his chest, then his face, his throat, his ribs with clawed hands. And something… moved. It was hard to see properly but Eric could have sworn it looked like there was something undulating from under Ix’s skin.
“Get out of the way,” snapped Ix, just before his shoulder jerked, his arm whipping out uncontrollably. It made a crack as his arm hit the underside of the seat, hard enough it surely would have broken Eric’s ribs if he’d been on the receiving end of that blow. Eric tucked himself into the very corner of the carriage as Ix thrashed around inside the carriage, frantically peeking out the window as the driver pushed the horses faster.Across the river, alongside the King’s parks, Eric recognized where they were now; past the Treasury and the Old Palace, they were almost there.
As they pulled through the corner towards the side gate of the New Palace and Eric leaned his head out of the window to shout, “Earl Marrawshire and His Highness Prince Ixthan, let us through immediately!”
The cab barely had to slow as they were waved through, the guards knowing better than to argue; Eric tried not to think about how much he had sounded just like his father there. They spilled out into the side door, Eric digging in Ix’s purse for an extra gold piece for the cab driver as he dragged Ix out of the carriage and in through the door.
They didn’t even make it to Ix’s rooms before he collapsed onto the floor, writhing, but at least it was in his wing of the palace, behind closed doors.
“Argh!” Ix raised his head to yell and Eric felt it, as solid as if he’d been shoved in the chest. He staggered backwards and tripped on the edge of the rug, landing hard on his backside. Ix’s eyes looked enormous, ballooning out of his head until they split open. Eric screamed. A gleam of amber, bright and cat-slitted, as Ix’s eyes reformed themselves.
Eric heard a ripping sound, then Ix kicked his feet, scrabbling them against the ground like an animal digging, until fabric split up to his knees and leather went flying. His paws! Ix roared triumphantly, the sound echoing through the corridor, as he stood, heaving, and ripped the rest of the breeches off. He bared his teeth in a grin. The teeth came to a slight point, just as Eric remembered them.
“Hells!” said Eric, as he looked Ix up and down. Sweat dripped down Ix’s temple as if he’d just won a fight – which Eric supposed he had – and his back heaved with exertion, but it washim. The half demon prince in all his glory. He was back, the same as before, except – Eric pointed at Ix’s head.
Horns, curled, thick and pitch black where they protruded out from his forehead. Ceronzar had horns but Ix had never. Ix raised his hands, with his unusually long fingers, black-tipped, and touched the horns as if he knew exactly where they were even if he couldn’t see them. He clacked his fingernails across the ridges. He didn’t seem displeased, at least. “Not bad.”
As he furrowed his brow in concentration, the horns grew before Eric’s very eyes until they were thick and enormous, curled up and over the side of his face. He patted them again. “Better.”
Eric gaped. “You can shapeshift!”
“Looks like I picked up some tricks in the demon realm after all.” Ix’s voice was rumblier than Eric remembered it being, and he shivered. It suited him.
The sound of footsteps pattered from around the corner, likely servants hurrying towards them to see the commotion. Eric glanced from Ix to the shredded boots, scooped them from the ground as Ix grabbed the tattered breeches and they frantically dashed the remaining fifty paces to Ix’s room. They made it just in time, Eric catching the glimpse of a servant down the corridor just as he shut the door behind them.
Eric was reasonably in shape, he rode and he fenced, but the sprint coupled with the hysteria of imagining the servants’ faces if they’d come upon them with Ix half-naked in the middle of the corridor left him breathlessly laughing. Ix held out for a moment longer, until they exchanged a look, and then he too was laughing, slumping against the door beside Eric.
“Did you know you have a tail?!” asked Eric. He’d only noticed it when Ix had turned around, and from Ix’s astonishment, he hadn’t seen yet. He looked at it askew as thetail curled around, long with yellow-orange short fur and a tuft of longer brown fur on the end. A lion’s, to match his paws.
