Keeping his head bowed, Leth asks, “How’s Daisy? Do we need to go out and find forage for him?”
“He’s fine. There’s some grass growing in one of the other chambers.” Evain isn’t about to explain that his horse hunts and kills rats—but he feels another pang of guilt at the deception.
He’s hidden his nature ever since he arrived in the human realm, and never felt guilty for it. But deceiving Leth feels different. Leth barely accepts his demonic powers when Evain pretends they’re from a contract. If he knew Evain was actually an unbound demon?
Well. That’s a problem for another day.
Evain sets a chair upright and tests it. The chair creaks in protest, so Evain abandons it to lounge against the dusty stone wall instead. “Find anything interesting?”
“It’s all interesting.” Leth holds a palm-sized piece of paper up to the light. “But not particularly informative. I can’t read Lyrisenian.”
Evain calls the light mote closer to him. “Let me see.”
Their fingers brush when Leth hands over the fragment, and arousal sparks through Evain. The ink is faded, and the sentences incomplete, but he can make out a few words. “I’ll tell you what it says in exchange for a kiss.”
He gave Leth at least fifteen minutes of space already. His resistance has limits.
Leth glares. “It’s nothing important, is it?” But he rises on his toes and pulls Evain down by the neck for a feather-light kiss. Barely there, and it sears Evain to his core.
Moon Mother’s tits. He thought he would bemorechill after fucking Leth, not less.
Evain licks his lips and replies, “I’m sure it was very important to whoever wrote it. But yes, it’s part of a soup recipe.” He returns the scrap to Leth, who doesn’t seem disappointed.
“My guess is whoever ran this chapel took any important books away before they abandoned the place.” Leth returns the soup recipe to the pile of crumbled pages on the table. “There aren’t enough book fragments here, compared to the number of shelves.”
“That makes sense.” Evain hesitates, torn between the urge to hide his knowledge, and the urge to show off. Showing off wins. “After looking around in better light, I believe this used to be a summoning chapel. The carvings have all been destroyed, but I recognize some rune fragments.”
A brief frown crosses Leth’s face. “Summoning chapels are forbidden in Charain. It’s too dangerous to summon demons to the same place over and over.”
“Far easier, though,” Evain says.
“Like I said. Easy’s the same thing as dangerous, when it comes to demons.” Leth moves to the door, pausing to glance over his shoulder. “I’m going to look at the carvings.”
It’s the closest thing to an invitation he’s going to extend. Evain follows after him. “What a coincidence, so am I.”
Repeated spellcasting changes a place. Wards are easier to set where they’ve been set before; healing potions easier to brew where they’ve been brewed before. Lesser demons can be summoned anywhere, but more powerful demons are more complicated. Great power or an amenable place are helpful.
The main chamber is colder and brighter than the library. High windows without glass allow in ribbons of sunlight, and thin patches of snow drift across the floor. Evain silently accompanies Leth around the summoning chapel, thinking about what he said the night before.I wish I could share my power with you, so you could feel in your soul exactly how much I want you too.
The trouble is, it’s not impossible.
If Evain revealed his true name and bound himself in a contract with Leth, he could share that power and more. Walking the broken flagstones, Evain can’t help thinking about all the demons bound here, temporary or permanent, willing or not. What would it be like to tie himself to Leth? They could share power and pleasure alike. With a willing contract, Evain could even share his lifespan, and Leth could accompany him through the centuries to enjoy all the wonders of the human world.
It’s a foolish fantasy. Leth would never agree.
The chapel is inert now, even to Evain’s inhuman senses. The Lyrisenian mages and their demons are long gone. Evain only cares about Leth’s slight figure moving from carving to carving, lips slightly moving as he deciphers the runes.
Leth tucks his hands under his arms as he reads. His breath clouds in the air, and Evain considers returning to the library to fetch Leth’s coat. The red scarf that looks so good on him. Instead, he shrugs off his own coat.
“Can you tell what this rune is?” Leth asks as Evain approaches. “The lower half is gone.”
“I can’t.” Evain drapes his coat over Leth’s shoulders, then holds him firmly in place, in case he tries to shrug the garment away. “It could be dispel, north, or shoelace.”
Leth pulls Evain’s coat tighter around his shoulders and leans in when Evain wraps his arms around him. He doesn’t relax, but he doesn’t pull away either. “Probably not shoelace. Though I wouldn’t want to assume.”
“They could have summoned a demon to work as a cobbler. Anything’s possible.”
“Did you…” Leth touches the rune. “Do you think Haldis and Marta and the rest are all right?”
