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“Good night, Raven. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Clutching the small soap, my heart pounded as I watched him go. I looked down at the tiny treasure before bringing it up to my nose. The smell of cinnamon was warm and comforting, and I immediately put it by the sink in my bathroom.
I took a cold shower. Which I told myself had nothing to do with snapping me out of the daze I had seemed to have succumbed to after Amon’s gentle kiss.
Crawling into bed, I closed my eyes and found Eriene. As I called out to the small piece of aura I had planted on Jeremy, it blinked in the darkness. It acted as a beacon in a hailstorm of atoms and stardust, leading my consciousness to him through time and space.
Allowing my mind to follow the metaphysical beacon, I found myself peering through the folds of reality into the messy kitchen of our small house in Toronto. I frowned. Jeremy was surrounded with notepads, filled with scribbles of what looked like… math. Books and newspaper clippings covered the table and the floor around him as he worked.
I had never seen Jeremy show an interest in math before, at least not like this. For a moment, I tried to make sense of the strange symbols interwoven between letters and numbers, before giving up. Whatever he was up to, I didn’t understand it.
I allowed my consciousness to flow back to my body across The Veil and sighed. At least I knew that he was safe.
I dreamt that night that I was in Amon’s dungeons. Prophet Margaret was curled in on herself, sobbing. Her arms were coated in blood from gashes that had long since healed. An inky presence crawled through the shadows, I could feel it there, spider-like, waiting.
“Help me,” the prophet was whispering as she rocked herself back and forth. I reached out to her, but my fingers seemed to catch fire. Suddenly, I was no longer in the dungeon, but surrounded by molten rock. Black magma splashed around me. I realized I had been thrown into the mouth of a volcano.
I tried to remember how to fly, but my limbs were like lead, and my thoughts were too slow. The magma bubbled and swelled, and I knew I would not make it. I was going to die here. I was going to burn, and I knew that the whole world would burn with me.
Having tossed and turned all night from the nightmares, I woke up earlier than usual feeling tired. I made my way to the bathroom where my armor hung on the door and pulled it on.
I was debating what to pack when Amon’s soft tap sounded on the frame of my door. He didn’t wait for me to invite him in. He slid up to me and pressed my daily coffee into my hand from behind.
“Good morning,” he purred into my ear, and I shivered at how intimate it felt, before taking a sip of the hot heavenly goodness.
“Mmmm. Good morning.” I replied. “What did you put in here today? It’s delicious.”
“I went with cinnamon, since you seem to have a liking for it.”
I swatted him over my shoulder and pulled away. “What should I pack? No one told me on our last trip how painfully under dressed I was going to be.”
“Definitely some of those silk slips you always wear to bed.” He replied smoothly, and I threw him a look. I thought of the scars that now laced my body and was suddenly glad I was covered head to toe in armor.
“Seriously, what do I need to bring?”
“I was being serious,” he smirked, wandering over to the bed to peek into my bag to see what I had already packed. “Though, if I were going to make another suggestion, it would be to aim for utility over style for this particular trip. Sounds like we’re going to the jungle. After the Nightshades burnt down the Olkuyrbe village, it seems the leap moved deep into the Amazon, so they would be more difficult to find.”
“Wow. Serving out this life debt has had some pretty cool travel perks.” I commented mildly as I sorted through my options in the armoire. I turned with a few pairs of lambskin pants, long and short sleeve tops, and my leather boots. All precariously held in one hand while balancing my coffee in the other.
Amon had a strange look on his face.
“What?” I asked, and he frowned.
“Is that why you are helping us?” His voice was darker than I liked. “So, you can be free of the debt that you owe me?”
I paused, confused. I had meant that as a joke, but it was technically true. I did owe him a life debt, and it would not be fulfilled until we had woken The Origin. I cared about the mission, and I was invested in its success outside of the debt itself. But it didn’t change the fact that at it’s core, that debt was the reason I was here in the first place. Wasn’t it? He searched my face and when I didn’t have an answer for him, he gave me a curt nod.
“I see.” His voice was quiet. “Good to know that’s where we stand.”
“Amon-” I started to say, but he was already gone. A flicker of shadow was the only hint that he had ever been in my room at all.
34
When I arrived in the common room several minutes later, the daemons had gathered, all clad in restructium armor. Amon wouldn’t meet my gaze. He was clearly pissed with me. Rycon, on the other hand, was nearly bouncing off the walls.
“There she is! Let’s GO!” He hollered as I arrived. “First thing I’m doing, is buying a carton of cigarettes.” He looked me up and down. “You’re in armor too? Is that because the Prince of Pricks thinks we’re going to get attacked?” His face lit up as if getting attacked was the best-case scenario.
“Man, I really hope I get to kill something on this trip.” He rubbed his hands together eagerly. I glanced at Kasha who rolled her eyes although I could tell she was trying not to smile. Say what you would about Rycon. He was far from perfect, but the shifter did have a certain passion for living that was undeniably contagious.
