Page 62 of Demon Touched

I nod. “I did think it seemed like low-level work for a captain.”

“I was there on the orders of the seraphim, actually. You’ve heard about the blight causing trouble in Aphelion?”

I straighten up, intrigued. “Yes. My grandfather told me about it.”

Her eyes spark, but she doesn’t comment on this. “I’ve been tasked by Seraphs Orelle and Wyvier to try to discover its plague’s origin. We thought perhaps it was being brought in from Strata through the rift. It’s why we were running extra security.”

Yes, Rowan mentioned something about that. That’s why the ephilium were so jumpy that day—they were primed to suspect sabotage. But I hadn’t realized Pellery was specifically there for that. Another piece of the puzzle falls into place.

“Did you find anything?” I ask.

“No. There is no sign the blight is coming in through the rift. We even quarantined the goods for a while, but nothing improved.”

“Why are you telling me this?” I ask, studying her face. She examines me in return, though I don’t know what she’s searching for.

“I’m getting nowhere with this investigation,” she sighs. “So I’m trying to think outside of the box. Naturally, we’ve considered that Infernum might be responsible for the blight. But this magic—if that’s even what it is—doesn’t feel strictly demonic in nature. If this is a new weapon of theirs, then I don’t know how they got their hands on power like this. And if it’s not…”

She shakes her head. I get the impression she’s had this discussion with herself and with others many times.

“So then I got to thinking—what if it’s not coming from Infernum? Or if it is, what if the spread to Aradis isn’t deliberate? We know so little about what goes on in Infernum. Maybe they’re battling with the blight, too, but don’t want their enemies finding out for the same reason we’ve been keeping the blight quiet outside our realm: because it’s a weakness that could be exploited.”

I think about Pellery watching the demons carefully earlier. She’s been on this case for a while, and I can feel her passion for it. She wants to get to the bottom of this problem at any cost.

“So I wanted to ask you if you think that’s a possibility,” she finishes, her brown eyes landing on me meaningfully.

I swallow. “Me? Why me?”

“Because I figured I should ask someone who’s been to Infernum,” she says. Her voice is so even that for a moment I think I might have misheard her.

Oh shit. Stay calm. She might not know anything. She’s probably just bluffing.

My voice is a little croaky when I respond. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never been to Infernum. What would I be doing in the demon realm?”

She shifts her stance, still watching my face.

“I don’t know. Maybe the color of your wings is just coincidence. Maybe you somehow did manage to come by that knife innocently. Maybe you had good reason to lie to me that day about looking for a job and another good reason not to take the escape back to Strata when I offered it.”

“Captain Pellery, I’m not here to betray Aradis. I swear. Look at me.” I gesture to my wings. “I’m one of you. This realm is the only one that would accept me.”

She holds up her hand. “I know. I think you got mixed up in something messy and managed to get out. I admire that. And frankly, I don’t know if I want the details if it means I’m going to have to march you back to the seraphim and watch them lock you up. But I need answers about the blight, and if you can help me, then it would be a great way to prove the loyalty you claim to have to this realm.”

I stare at her. She’s willing to overlook the fact I may have worked with demons if it could help her investigation. Well, no one could accuse Pellery of not being practical.

“What are you asking me exactly?” I say faintly. I’ve lost the whole thread of this conversation.

She inhales. “When you were in Infernum, did you see anything like the blight there? Or hear anything that might point to it? Crops failing. People developing sores.”

I lick my lips, conscious I’m about to take a pretty huge risk. But I like Pellery. She’s smart, and I have an urge to trust her. She gave me an out, against the seraphim’s orders, when she didn’t need to. And she could have pressed the issue of me having that knife from day one. Instead, she chose to let it go. If she believes so strongly now that I’ve been associating with the demons, she could just have me arrested. But she hasn’t. No, she’s choosing to talk to me in private, woman to woman. So I decide to try and give her the parts of the truth I can.

“No. I’m sorry, but I didn’t see anything like that.”

Her eyes widen a fraction, as if she can’t quite believe I’ve confirmed her theory, but then her expression settles again. “You’re sure? The demon lord spoke of Infernum facing challenges⁠—”

“I’m certain. Those challenges were not caused by any sickness.”

We exchange a long look, each trying hard to read the other.

“Right,” she sighs. “Well, thank you for your honesty.”