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I didn’t really believe that, but it was easier to tell myself that then to think he had answers he wasn’t sharing.
The one thing he was right about was that we had bigger problems.
Like a hell city and the devil.
* * * *
Styx was set up like a bustling city, made up of all bad areas.
Hunter had retrieved my cloak, and it was once again smelly and damp. After finding out about the plants, I didn’t complain about the garment.
There were a lot worse things than sticky clothes.
Hunter disappeared, again, and Kase and Troy hardly looked at each other. They were going overboard trying to pretend nothing had happened.
Which, nothing really had between them, but apparently two naked and erect penises in the same room created a problem for some men.
Grant stood just to my side, and during the walk toward the city, he’d created another three of those charms, so each of the men could find me.
Except Hunter, who it seemed could track me without problem—no magic needed.
“How often are you here?”
Grant shrugged. “I visit hell every few months.”
“Do all mages come here?”
“No. Not many have the power to create the portals. It means I also make a good sum selling the things I pick up here.”
“Why can you if others can’t?”
He pressed his lips together, as if deciding how to explain it. “I told you magic was finite for a mage, right?”
“The bowl theory. Yeah, I remember, you refused to magic away vampire dust from my cleavage.”
He didn’t look sorry. “Exactly. Different spells take different amounts of magic, so if you have a mage with a very small bowl, they simply don’t have enough to create a portal.”
“But you do?”
“What can I say? My equipment is quite impressive.”
I ignored his crude joke. “But why? What determines a mage’sbowl? Are they born like that, or do they get more powerful as they grow?”
A slight tension started in Grant’s cheek, despite his smile, as if the conversation veered down a path he’d rather not go, the secretive bastard. “A little of both. A mage is born with a certain amount of magic available, but all of it won’t be accessible until they become immortal. Mages get better at using their magic as they age and learn, but they’re mostly stuck by that central size issue.”
“Mostly?”
“There are ways to change it, but they’re forbidden.”
“Forbidden?” I drew out the word to point out how odd it was to hear it fromhim.“You never struck me as the kind to care about what’s allowed.”
He cast a withering look my way. “The only way to increase a mage’s innate power is to steal it from another mage, preferably a child, since they have a lesser hold on their magic. The process kills the person if they’re lucky.”
His words chilled me, though I suppose, in some strange way, it was good to know he did have lines.
I would have kept asking questions—it wasn’t like I had anything better to do and Iwascurious—but someone stumbled in front of us before I could.
A kid flinched, as if I’d kick him for getting in my way. He had a round face, darkened with dirt and bruises, and stood no taller than my waist. I doubted he was older than six.
