“Some of the water has been taken—and I don’t mean the vials we give the snares or those who drink from it. The lake’s balance isn’t upset by such small quantities being removed. Right now, it’s missing alot.”
I stare at him, processing this. “And what does that mean for the souls?”
“Well,” Yealey holds his hands out, looking a bit bewildered himself, “it means that the souls traveling through the aether from Strata are at risk of going astray. The lake guides them here, but if a portion of the Morphos is elsewhere, then?—”
“Then they don’t know what direction to go in,” Viz finishes, naturally writing all this down. “They’re getting mixed signals.”
I look out across the lake. From here, there’s nothing to tell a casual observer that the Morphos is in trouble. Just like you wouldn’t know there are lost souls out there, wandering blindly through the aether, perhaps forever. Both are happening because I didn’t do enough to protect this lake. But it’s in my domain, and I’ll make sure I don’t shirk my duty again.
No more souls are getting lost on my watch.
“Send a message to the snares,” I say, turning to Viz. “All soul deals are suspended until further notice.”
Yealey’s eyes widen, but he nods enthusiastically. “I think that would be best, Lord Syrus.”
Quill, meanwhile, grunts. I’ve known him long enough to be able to translate that.
“You don’t think it’s the right decision?” I ask.
He lifts a shoulder in his defense. “You must do as you see fit, my lord, but it’s drastic. Lord Kaliban won’t like it.”
“What would be drastic would be adding more souls to the mix knowing they might never make it here,” I say, my voice stern. “I can’t take that risk, but Icandeal with Kaliban. After all, he owes me.”
Chapter 16
Leah
“Again,” Syrus calls as I drop the ball of stone on the ground with a gasp.
It takes me a moment to catch my breath long enough to answer him, and even then, I have to angle my head to call up to the section of courtyard wall he’s perched on. “I can’t. If you make me carry this thing up and down those stairs one more time, I’ll pass out.”
He turns the page of his book without looking up. “If you pass out, you can stop.”
I glare at the stone in front of me with a hatred I’ve rarely felt for an inanimate object, with the exception perhaps of the flowers in Ada’s garden. It must be a bit of masonry that fell off some corner of the castle battlements. Now it’s been repurposed as a torture device especially for my suffering.
I wipe the sheen of sweat off my neck with the collar of my shirt, then push my damp hair back from my face.
“Stop stalling,” Syrus says, and I clench my fingers into fists so I don’t make a rude gesture at him. I give myself a beat, just to prove I don’t have to jump into action the moment he barks an order at me, then dutifully bend to pick up the stone.
My arm muscles groan with effort, but I remember to tighten my core as I heft the stone up, slowly turn, and start back up the flight of stairs I’ve scaled at least ten times already.
It’s been nearly a week since we returned from Strata, and it turns out the demon healer really knew her stuff. Thanks to the balm she gave me, the bruise on my face has all but disappeared. Then she came back to remove my stitches from my side after four days, the cut already mostly sealed up—I’m sure there was some demon magic at work with that one, even if I don’t understand exactly how she did it.
She was pretty nice, though I’ve never met a medicine woman with a beak before. She answered all my questions about the plants she used in her balm and the syrup she gave me for my pain. Of course, I’d not heard of any of them—either in Cyrax or their common translation—but I still stored their names and descriptions away anyway.
I chant them now in my mind to distract myself from the way my muscles are screaming.
“Mexalor, also known as waspvine…yablon’ti, also called miner’s apple…kuvvel, also—fuck, this hurts. I’d really like to throw this thing right at his smug, demon fa?—”
“I think I prefer it when you stick to plants,”Syrus murmurs into my mind. The sudden sound of his voice curling between my ears nearly makes me drop the stone.
“You shouldn’t go snooping places uninvited if you don’t want to hear something unpleasant,”I think back. It’s a kind of test. I want to see if he remembers our conversation in the parlor as well as I do. I’ve been waiting for my retribution all week—for lying to him, for refusing to give him my last name, and for interrogating him about the demon he punished. So far, he’s just started calling me Leah and otherwise acted like it never happened.
Well, except for the fact he’s now making me carry masonry about the castle.
“Using my own words against me won’t make me cut your training short,”he purrs, turning another page of his book.
“No, but it will pass the time quicker for me,”I say, turning at the top of thestairs and starting to descend.“Or maybe you could read to me from that book that’s so fascinating.”
