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The comment gave the boy pause. “You are saying I can make others feel as if bugs are crawling over them.”
“I am saying you are capable of more than that, young baron. But you are arrogant, impatient, and excessively untrusting. So go on back to your great master swordsman who will continue to train you in mediocrity.”
Once again, the urge to clobber the old man had the boy grinding his teeth. “It is far better and more noble to train toward something, than to act as your personal servant. What exactly did patching a roof teach me, hmmm?” The baron only caught the older man’s subtle smile, before the carriage came to a stop. As the boy stepped in the direction of it, he heard Solomon call out to Fenwick, the coachman, his eyes staring off.
“You there. Kind sir, would you do me a favor?”
Frowning, the coachman rolled his shoulders back and glanced around the carriage, returning his attention back toward Solomon. “You ask a favor of me, Sir?”
“Yes. If it is not too much trouble.”
“Of course not.” The coachman clambered down from the carriage and ambled across the short stretch of yard toward them. “What would you have me do?” he asked on his approach.
“Do you see the walking stick I’ve left there?”
The baron twisted around, knowing the man’s walking stick was lying on the ground at the hut’s rear where the coachman could not have possibly seen it.
“Mind tricks.” Sneering, the baron spoke low, so as not to rouse the coachman’s attention.
“Ah, yes, would you like me to fetch it for you?”
“If it’s not too much trouble.”
“Not at all.”
Confused, the baron watched as the portly man strode toward the hut. Directly toward it. The boy’s jaw gaped so wide with shock, it practically unhinged itself, when Fenwick strode through the walls of the structure itself, disappearing into the mud plaster and logs which made up its outer appearance. Within seconds, he strode back through, as if the barrier were not there, at all.
“Who are you, that you see and know these things?” the baron asked with an air of panic in his voice.
“There is much to understand. Return again, and I will tell you.”
12
JERICHO
The monotonous clop of horse hooves marked the seemingly endless path ahead, as Onyx cantered toward the village.
I loathed having to get about like a human, either by horse, or foot. What would’ve been a fairly quick flight would now take me half the night to get there and back, but while losing my wings had felt like giving up a part of myself, it’d been a small price to pay to save Farryn. Even at the cost of the heavens hunting me, for having broken their rules to stay away from the girl, for evading my fate to Ex Nihilo, and perhaps worst of all, for offering up my wings. One did not hand over his celestial power without consequence.
Those were simply the crimesI’dcommitted, never mind all the ways Farryn had pissed them off.
I needed to fix what was broken within me, for her sake. To offer her some form of protection, particularly now that I knew what awaited her on the other side of the pregnancy. The heavens would be hard pressed to seek her out in Nightshade, if they had any thought that she might be here, so she might’ve been safe in that respect. But the bastardly creature to whom she owed her soul would surely come to collect once the baby had arrived. While the demon inside of me might’ve made a more formidable opponent, I feared what that might mean for Farryn. The rage that my father had incited in me stoked the beast I’d buried long ago.
I thought I’d seen the last of Claudius Van Croix after he’d fled Blackwater Cathedral. I’d even gone so far as to hunt him down in Eradye, except the barren world had begun to eat away too much of my vitaeilem. I was fortunate back then to have been able to replenish the lifeblood inside of me. Took a couple weeks for my body to recover from depletion, and those weeks were probably my darkest. Suffering hallucinations. Craving depravity. Blood. There’d always been a light at the end of the tunnel, though. A promise that I’d recover, if I could just get through the rejuvenation process.
There would be no rejuvenation this time. No light in the darkness.
Seraphica was the only solution. A temporary one, I hoped.
Unfortunately, the drugs to which I’d once been addicted would only add to the growing shit-pile of problems we faced, but at least they’d help stave off the urge to consume Farryn’s soul. To enslave her to my sexual cravings. The vitality of her was what called to me. Even before I’d slipped out of consciousness and into the state of my demon, I knew I wanted it. Her. Taking it, though, would mean ending her life. Ensuring that she could never return to the mortal realm.
I loved her too damn much to risk it. Even if staying away from her was the worst kind of torture, I’d do it for eternity if it meant protecting her.
The once-lush forest of Misty Hollow, which had burned to the ground after I’d set it aflame, passed on my right. The scene brought to mind that night, the look in Farryn’s eyes as she stared down at me seconds before that white hot blaze engulfed me. The horror and pain, confusion and betrayal. It was a look I’d taken into the void, one that would haunt me for months after. I’d wanted so badly to tell her how sorry I’d been. How much I loved her.
All I’d been able to do in that moment was hope Barchiel held up his part of the deal. I’d added acontiszhato our agreement, meaning that, even if I got trapped in Ex Nihilo, breaking his promise would mean he’d be subjected tocasmal’zhation. Essentially, being turned inside out. A soul, like Barchiel’s, reborn into immortality would’ve survived the excruciating pain for mere seconds before dying absolute death. Unlike banishment to Ex Nihilo, there was no coming back from that.
What seemed like ages later, I finally reached the small village of Stygian Falls. A hum of anticipation simmered in my blood, as if my body knew what I’d come for. The streets were quiet on the surface, but I knew where to go to find what had been essentially banned in an agreement between the heavens and infernal realm.
