Page 135 of Demon Touched

I blink, surprised. Apparently, Strickland isn’t too concerned about winger politics—which seems odd, for a politician. Wary, I choose my next words carefully.

“Lord Syrus and I met when I was accidentally linked to him by a spell—some black magic sorcery I wanted no part of. In the process, I inherited some of his powers.”

“I see,” Strickland nods. Seemingly pleased to have a clear picture at last, he sets down his cup.

“You must forgive me for being overly preoccupied with your powers, Miss Polaris,” he says. “But what you did out on the plains is unique, and it interests me greatly.”

Syrus decides it’s his time to speak.

“The weapon Leah had to deal with was also unique, Mr. Strickland,” he says. “I would be interested to know how it got onto the plains, and who was responsible for it.” Syrus’s eyes gleam, letting Strickland know this isn’t just idle curiosity.

The assemblyman frowns. “I assumed it was a new invention from Infernum or Aradis. Surely, your generals would be better equipped to assess that than I.”

Syrus looks unimpressed by the answer. “Obviously, I’m not currently in a position to ask them.”

Strickland dips his head in apology as Syrus continues. “It may have come from the other realms, but there’s reason to think it originated in Strata.”

Strickland looks alarmed by the suggestion. “We have an armistice day coming at the end of the week. We can send out some scouts to gather remnants of this weapon to study.” He sets his cup aside, rising from his chair. “For now, however, there’s something I would like to discuss with Miss Polaris.” He shifts uncomfortably. “Alone, if you wouldn’t mind, Lord Syrus.”

Syrus stiffens, then raises an eyebrow. “What might you have to discuss with Leah that you can’t talk about in front of me?”

Strickland finds his courage then, straightening up and looking more like the quietly confident man I saw addressing the Assembly. “A matter of Stratan security.”

Syrus bristles, and I suppress a smile. He looks like a cat that’s been threatened with a bath. “I thought we were allies, Mr. Strickland.”

“We are,” the assemblyman says calmly. “But to be quite frank, this is a matter pertaining to the collateral. As a lord of Infernum, you’re forbidden from accessing the objects that keep Strata’s cities safe.”

Syrus doesn’t look any happier, but he gives a tight nod, rising from his chair. “Very well. I’ll return to our room.”

I wonder a little at Syrus’s reaction. Is he worried about my safety? Or does he just not like being shut out, that old need for control rearing its head once again? I ponder this as Strickland leads me down the corridor to the stairs I explored yesterday.

“I know this might seem strange, Miss Polaris,” Strickland says as we walk. “But I promise all will become clear soon.”

He seems resolute, full of focused energy, and I have to lengthen my strides to keep up with him.

“Please, you know my real name now. You can call me Leah.”

He nods. “Of course, when it’s just us, speaking friend to friend. Please call me Thadeus too.”

I hold back a surprised laugh. I’m on first-name terms with the chief assemblyman now. Which means it’s probably safe to ask him some questions. “A matter of Stratan security” is bewilderingly vague. Before I can think where to start, however, Strickland gets there first.

“What do you know about the collateral, Leah?”

“I know they’re the objects surrendered by Infernum and Aradis upon the signing of the Concords,” I say. “There’s two of them, the Heart of Dawn and…” It takes me a brief, embarrassing moment to remember the name. “Hekate’s Mantle? They’re supposed to be very powerful, so that the supernatural realms would suffer if they were destroyed.”

I stop there. That’s about where my knowledge ends. Stratans are told little about the collateral except that it keeps us safe. What more do we need to know?

We approach a quartet of wardens at the end of the corridor. One of them opens the thick wooden door behind them. Right behind that is an even thicker iron gate, which the warden then unlocks. It swings open with a squeak that suggests disuse.

I try to be inconspicuous as I shake out my shoulders, attempting to release the strange energy in them. Because with every step, I feel it more and more.

I wasn’t being dismissive with Syrus when I told him how I knew to combine my shadow and lightning magic. With my nephilim magic showing up late in my life, I’m used to having to learn how to use my power on the fly, often without someone to teach me the way. Maybe that’s how I managed to just go with it when the metal drum in my arms started to heat and shake, and something inside offered up the answer.

And it didn’t come from nowhere. The more I think about it, the more I wonder if it wasn’t really my foresight guiding me. Instead, it was tied up with the feeling I first noticed when I came near this part of the house. A sensation that finally came together.

And when it did, it suddenly seemed strange that there was ever a time I couldn’t conjure the two powers in tandem. Why had I been treating them like entirely different entities, rather than two points on a vast spectrum? At that moment, weaving them together felt natural, inevitable.

The tingling tickle didn’t disappear after the battle, but it did settle. Until now, when it starts spiking again as we descend into the bowels of the residence.