Page 129 of Demon Touched

“I think we should go check it out,” I say. My instincts are ringing like the bells on the city gates: an urgent warning.

Syrus shifts beside me. “I could point out that leaving the safety of Pax is a very bad idea for multiple reasons,” he says. “But that ephilium foresight of yours seems to override every other bit of logic, so I’d probably be wasting my breath.”

Despite his begrudging tone, I can see his attention is drawn out to the battlefield too. He’s watching the Infernum troops with a kind of yearning. “Still, if you insist on going out there without a shred of armor for protection, then I’m coming too.”

“Me too,” Filippa says.

“What?” Hodges straightens up. “No, Pip, you’ve only just healed. You can’t⁠—”

She cuts him off in a way that I’m starting to notice is a pattern with them.

“Whatever’s out there is bad, Hodges,” she says, taking him by the arms. The contact momentarily robs him of words. “I can feel it.”

“You’re really going to go out there based on a feeling?” he murmurs, sounding bewildered more than anything. Then something occurs to him, and he looks at Filippa a little awed. “Is this, like, an ephilium thing? Like second sight? Is that what Lord Syrus meant about foresight?”

Filippa nods. “Yes, more or less. Listen, we’ll just check it out. I won’t get near the battle, I swear.”

Hodges stares at her earnest face before giving a defeated nod.

She shrugs off her cloak and harness as Syrus and I both conjure up our wings. We might be leaving the safety of the walls, but I’m hoping that the ephilium will be too busy fighting for their lives to recognize me, especially if I stick close to the ground. Of course, some of the demons will definitely recognize Syrus if they notice him, but none of the lords have flown out with the army today, and I doubt any lesser demons will dare attack him.

We glide down past the walls, staying low to the ground and far away from the fighting above us, skimming across the earth toward the hump in the landscape. We land a few feet away from it. I turn to Syrus to see what he thinks of it, but his eyes are fixed on the battle, a look of yearning on his face.

The Infernum troops are struggling under the pressure from the ephilium, soldiers on the front line dropping like flies. I can see how badly he wants to help them, how he’s driven to protect, to do his duty to his people.

He’s never been able to fight alongside the demons before, shut out for so long from something he feels he should have been doing. Being so close now, watching the fight and not joining in, must be impossibly hard for him.

“Go,” I say.

His brow furrows. “No. I came out here for you.”

“Syrus, they’re getting destroyed. They need you more than I do right now. Filippa can cover me while I take a quick look at this thing, and then we’ll head back to the walls.”

He throws another desperate look toward his troops before his eyes lock back on me. He sighs, shoulders dipping.

“Syrus,” I repeat. “It’s fine. Now go.”

He nods reluctantly. “I’ll stay nearby in case you need me,” he says. “But thank you.”

His wings draw back and drive forward, immediately creating a gust of wind that propels him up into the sky.

“Come on,” I say to Filippa, tossing her Swiftwing as I jog the rest of the way to the hummock, trying not to breathe too deeply. Even in just two weeks, I’d somehow forgotten the dreadful smell of the battlefield—the burning sharpness of scorched flesh mixed with the earthy tang of mud soaked in blood, piss, and shit.

The hummock looks even more out of place up close: long and rounded, covered in packed earth, but not pressed so tightly that I can’t pull chunks of it away with my hands. Maybe this is crazy, coming all the way out here for this. But my gut hasn’t steered me wrong before, and I’m not about to start ignoring it now.

So I fall to my knees and dig.

Chapter 35

Filippa

Okay, so maybe coming out here wasn’t so smart.

Maybe it was a bad idea. Really bad. Just like the feeling I’m getting off that damn lump in the ground.

I stare at the sword Leah just threw to me. The one I fumbled and almost let drop into the mud. Ancestors, my grandfather would kill me if he saw that.

Except the general is dead. One of the greatest warriors of his generation, cut down in a fight. And now I’m standing under a raging battle as if I honestly believe I won’t end up the same way.