Page 55 of Under the Iron Sky

Malakai clapped him on the back. “What’s the matter? Does the big bad Ethereal miss his wife? Does he need a cuddle? Come on then, bring it here, you big ol’ softie.” He held out his arms, but Aeris bared his teeth, smacking them away.

Not that it bothered Malakai. Laughing, he strode toward the water bowl Ikarus had ordered be placed at the back of their box. “Still think I’m losing my touch?”

Aeris rested his elbows on the railing. “Oh no, you absolutely showed me. I apologize for ever doubting you.”

Apparently pleased with this answer, Malakai began the very laborious task of cleaning the blood from his face and hair. In many ways, the two of them were as different as east and west. Malakai’s short fuse and willingness to slit the throat of anyone who so much as raised a disapproving brow at him was offset by Aeris’s ability to remain composed, to see the bigger picture and know the wait would be worth the reward. They were polar opposites but complemented each other perfectly. When they played nicely together.

“‘Losing my touch,’ he says,” Malakai scoffed, splashing water against the back of his neck. “If anyone’s losing their touch, it’s Ikarus.”

Ikarus arched a brow. “Excuse me?”

“You heard. You’ve had the human locked in the dungeon for how long? And all you’ve gotten are a few silly childhood memories? You wanna hope something like that doesn’t get out to the masses.” Smiling, he waggled a red-stained finger at Ikarus. “Wouldn’t be good for your big scary reputation, Mr. Demon.”

“Oh, and you’re going to tell them, are you?”

Malakai pretended to think about it. “Nah. I like living in your castle too much.” And being Ikarus’s second-in-command—when he deigned to show up for his duties.

The Arakna’s body was cleared from the ring and a horn blared from somewhere above, signaling the next fight was about to start even though only half the seats were filled now. They always were, unless Malakai was fighting. As irritating and psychotic as the pyromancer might be, there was no denying he put on a hell of a show.

A young unarmored Dar’rak entered the ring, followed by a human whose ankles were bound together with a set of chains. Ikarus almost shook his head at the sight. They’d given him a small handgun and a battered bracer on his right arm, but they could’ve at least removed the chains to even the fight up a little.

The horn blared again. With what remained of the crowd now distracted, Aeris’s eyes glowed, and Ikarus didn’t need to reach out a hand to know that his friend had cast a soundproof barrier of energy around them. “How are the searches through the human’s mind going? Any improvement?”

Ikarus glanced at the figures in the boxes again. “Not really. She’s got a much stronger will than I expected.”

Malakai’s head popped up from the bowl. “You havin’ performance issues, mate? I can have a crack at her if you’re struggling.”

Aeris looked ready to backhand the fool. “You can’t memory walk.”

“I know.” Malakai wiggled his eyebrows. “I have other ways of making ladies scream.”

Ikarus motioned for him to turn around with a finger. “Less talking, more washing.”

Malakai chuckled but behaved and went back to the bowl.

Aeris lazily studied the fight below. “Could she have built up a tolerance to your powers, perhaps? Anything in the mind can be temperamental.”

“I don’t see how. We’ve never seen anything like that before.” But then the human did have a nasty habit of surprising him. Ikarus couldn’t rule it out.

Now clean, Malakai snagged a black shirt from the back of the armchair by the bar, pulled it over his head, and came to stand on Ikarus’s other side. “What do you need?”

“What makes you think I have an agenda?” Ikarus asked, watching the human try to jerk his wrist to summon a shield. Light glimmered, then dimmed into nothing. Empty.

“You never come to any of my fights unless you need something,” Malakai said simply.

Ikarus didn’t think that was true, but he had been stretched rather thin lately. This late in the war, certain things—anything that didn’t involve torture or battle, and now, sifting through mundane human memories—had been pushed aside.

“Go on then,” Malakai urged. “Out with it.”

“I need your help with something.”

“Anything,” Aeris replied instantly. “What do you need?”

“Help catching a spy.”

Genuine surprise flashed on both their faces.

Aeris immediately started scanning the boxes, no doubt already forming a list of suspects. “Do we have any idea who?”