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Authors: Jill Archer

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BOOK: White Heart of Justice
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“Father,” I said cautiously, “have
you
met the new Patron Demon of Rockthorn Gorge?”

He frowned. “No,” he said peremptorily, scoffing and standing, “That's what I'm asking
you
to do.”

He pushed the envelope toward me. “Your meeting place and time. I'll be at Lekai tonight for the Bryde's Day feast. If you're going, you can give me your decision then.”

I mumbled something—no idea what—and Karanos started walking out of the square. I stared at the crimson seal embossed with a waterfall. My mind was spinning and my throat was tight. I swallowed. Karanos had said I could let him know my decision
tonight
. That meant Ari was here in New Babylon.
Right now.
That he wanted to meet with me
today
.

I ripped open the envelope.

O
FFICE OF THE
P
ATRON
D
EMON
OF
R
OCKTHORN
G
ORGE

Dear Ms. Onyx,

Our patron would like to meet. He'll be waiting for you at sundown on Bryde's Day in the tax and tithing section of Corpus Justica. If you are still interested in a fourth semester residency with us, please meet him there.

Nephemiah Zeffre
Foreman

*   *   *

I
stayed at the top of the stairs for so long, I was afraid the desk clerk might come and ask me if anything was wrong. And I didn't want any attention on me. I was having a tougher time controlling my emotions than I would have liked. It felt like Fara's spell wasn't even working.

After my father had left Timothy's Square earlier today, I'd sought out Fara. She'd actually been on her way to see me. I asked her two things: (1) If I decided to accept a residency at Rockthorn Gorge for next year, would she agree to serve as my Guardian? and (2) Could she cast a cloaking spell over me that was strong enough to hide my emotions from even the strongest waning magic user? Then I confided to her that Ari was now the Demon Patron of Rockthorn Gorge and I was on my way to meet him.

She'd given me an unequivocal “yes” to my first question and admitted that she already knew why I'd asked the second question. That's why she'd been on her way to find me. Apparently, Ari had also sought out Fara's not insubstantial spellcasting skills for a similar emotional cloak to don for our meeting.

“And you agreed?” I'd said, my voice just the tiniest bit shrill. I mentally pinched myself and swore not to forget Glashia's teachings again. “Wasn't it you that said Angels were under no obligation to serve ‘the demon horde rabble'?”

“We're not,” Fara had said. “But I didn't think you'd want to meet him with
both
of you wearing your hearts on your sleeves.”

I'd glared, but backed down. Fara had cast me up and here I stood, on the main stairwell of Corpus Justica, seemingly unable to ascend the stairs at a normal pace. The foreman's note had said sundown. It was now almost half an hour after dark.

I clutched the bannister, gritted my teeth, and pulled myself up the stairs.

I was afraid. Which was a ridiculous emotion to feel after all of the things I'd survived this semester.

But I was afraid of all of the other emotions I might feel. I knew my complicated feelings for Rafe didn't mean the ones I'd had previously for Ari had been erased. They'd been created naturally and I was stuck with them, even if I had to pretend I didn't have them in order to appear professional during the first meeting with my potential employer for next semester . . .
a demon patron who was having trouble at his outpost
 . . .
A
regulare
demon who'd used the proper channels to request help from the Council for the unrest in his outpost . . . A demon who'd requested the services of a top-ranking MIT for his consigliere . . .

A demon who'd made love to said potential consigliere countless times . . . A drakon who—

As viciously as if I were slicing off an opponent's hand with a waning magic sword, I slashed my thoughts, cauterizing them and sealing them forever in my memory vault. I refused to pull them out again.

Those memories could only be detrimental to me now. I needed a clean slate, and while I wasn't (yet) willing to let Fara create a memory-erasing spell to help me, I knew the secret to sanity lay in forgetting all of my past ties with my future employer.

So when I finally stepped into the unpopular tax and tithing section of Corpus Justica on Bryde's Day, with the whole of St. Luck's campus outside carrying candles that they wanted to share with loved ones, I was half worried that I might be greeted by candlelight.

Thank Luck I wasn't.

Ari was leaning against my study carrel. I think, because I was avoiding focusing on him too intently, the first thing I noticed was that I still had some unreturned books on the shelf. I'd need to return them before I started working for him.

The Demon Patron of Rockthorn Gorge.

Ari.

I looked up into his eyes. They looked the same, the color of black coffee with just the slightest hint of cranberry. I don't know what I expected to see there. Love perhaps. Pain maybe. Desire, longing, loss, sorrow—all the things I'd felt during the months in between now and when I'd seen him last. It was both more and less horrible that I didn't see any of those things.

“I saw Fara before this,” he said by way of greeting. His words seemed rushed. It was one of the only times I'd ever seen him struggle for composure.

“I know,” I said. “I did too.” I breathed an inward sigh of relief that my voice sounded steady, confident. I'd elected not to change. After carefully considering my choices, I figured the conservative leggings, bustier, and light shirt would be perfect for what we were all trying to pretend this was—a job interview. Besides, not changing had seemed like another way to try to convince myself that this meeting was
no big deal
.

Ari's chestnut-colored hair was cut short again and he was wearing a long leather cloak and boots. Something about the way his cloak hung on him looked odd and I spent a considerable amount of time studying the clasp, which was, in and of itself, unremarkable. But he never said a word. Maybe he was as content as I was to simply be in the same room. Although
content
wasn't exactly the word I would use to describe what I was feeling. And then I was angry with myself for having those thoughts. Ari's grimace was slight, but I caught it and frowned. Fara was almost as good an Angel as Rafe. Had she not cast me up as she'd said she had?

“Fara's an excellent Angel,” Ari said, “but I think even she would have a hard time masking our feelings for one another.”

I stepped back and Ari said quickly, “Please don't leave. I won't speak of it again.”

As he had so many times previously, he let his gaze sweep over me. I knew that no detail of my appearance went unnoticed: not my bigger, blacker (and likely free of his
signare
) demon mark, visible as a dark shadow under the diaphanous material of my undershirt, not Rafe's silver bracelet, which I still wore (and which ironically bore Ari's real name), not my stiff stance, nor my hopefully expressionless face, nor my racing heartbeat, evidenced by the thrumming vein in my throat.

Unbidden the image of Ari shifting into a drakon inside of the Stone Pointe keep came to mind. But instead of feeling fear, I felt only compassion and forgiveness.
Six words,
I thought. It wasn't the Angel's bell that changed everything. It was six words:

You still love him, don't you?

Instead of wanting to run
from
Ari, I suddenly wanted to run
to
him. I wanted to run to him and press my cheek against his chest. I wanted to wrap my arms around his back and squeeze. Hard. I wanted to tell him how much I missed him, how much I . . .

Mentally, I cleared my throat. Well, how
worried
I was about the future. But not because I was scared of demons anymore. Because I was scared for them, or at least one of them. And what might happen to him when my father found out that Ari had deceived him.

And yet . . .

I knew continuing his deception wasn't the answer. I'd deceived everyone for the first twenty-one years of my life and I had no desire to return to a life of hiding. So Ari and I were both going to have to learn how to live, and get along, in a different way. We needed a new dynamic. He'd said it himself.

I never could decide whether to help you stand on your own two feet or sweep you off them. I realize now, it was never my choice to make.

If I went rushing back into Ari's arms now, all of the independence I'd worked so hard to achieve would be lost. And it would make it doubly hard to counsel Ari. To convince him to do things he might not want to do: admit he was wrong in deceiving us, apologize to my father, accept my forgiveness—and learn the truth about Rafe.

“Of course, I'll listen to what you have to say about what's going on up in Rockthorn Gorge,” I said, “but I've already made my decision.”

Ari's face fell and I was glad not to feel whatever emotion lay behind it.

“I'll do it.”

We had things to work out, but the last thing I wanted was to make Ari suffer or manipulate his feelings. For whatever reason (likely some professional, some personal), he had asked if I was willing to come to Rockthorn Gorge. I was and I wasn't going to play games about my answer. But I would give him my terms.

“I'll spend my fourth semester residency in Rockthorn Gorge on three conditions,” I said.

Ari's tense expression fled. His look softened and then he gave up pretending not to care that I'd just agreed to become his consigliere. His mouth quirked.

“What are they?” he asked.

“You need to tell Karanos the truth about what you are.”

His look changed again but I honestly had no idea what this new one meant. It was undecipherable. He stared at me, his expression enigmatic. Finally, he nodded.

“Agreed,” he said, “I'll tell him by the end of your fourth semester residency. What else?”

“I need two weeks off at the beginning of the semester to help train a new riverboat sentry.”

“A riverboat sentry?” Ari frowned, clearly confused.

“Yes, for the Jayneses,” I clarified. “For their flagship, the
Alliance
.”

“But why are
you
training the Jayneses' new sentry?” He looked completely nonplussed now.

“Because they asked me to and I said I would,” I said with just the slightest hint of irritation.
Was he going to start telling me how to prioritize my life again now that I'd told him I would spend next semester up north?

“I'll also need another two weeks off during the month of Fyr to attend St. Luck's Fire Festival. There's a new skill I want to share with the first year MITs. And one of the weekends in—”


You're
performing at the Fire Festival?” he asked incredulously.

“Yes, Ari,
I'm
performing at the Fire Festival,” I snapped and then I bit my lip, chagrined that I hadn't stuck to my own
show no emotion
rule, and then I nearly groaned out loud that I'd bitten my lip.
Where was my self-discipline?
Maybe Glashia would agree to come with me. Because apparently being in Ari's presence made it extraordinarily difficult to keep my emotions to myself.

But Ari didn't seem to notice my inner turmoil.

“I thought you hated burning things.”

I thought of all the responses I could make that would correct Ari's oversimplification and then decided maybe simple statements were best.

“People change, Ari.”

His gaze slowly swept over me again. It was as if he were two different people: the contrite, apologetic fellow MIT that I'd known and loved, who'd lied to me and broken my heart, and the neophyte demon lord who was still stretching his wings, trying to build his fiefdom, and laying claim to what he thought was rightly his.

I narrowed my eyes and tilted my chin up. I reminded myself that, so long as I could control my emotions around him, I could control him. Maybe.

He narrowed his eyes at me and smiled. But it was a calculating smile.

I stepped toward him, so that I was only inches from him, intentionally provoking him with my nearer presence.

“I'm not the person you left behind in the Shallows,” I said, my voice low and threatening. “Still want me as your consigliere now that you know that?”

“Yes,” he said without hesitation, although his voice was as rough with unshed emotion as mine.

After a minute or so of neither of us backing down (it was like a kids' staring contest and I refused to blink), Ari finally said, “What's your third condition?”

I looked away and stepped back from him. “I'm going to need accommodations for a tiger . . . and a barghest.”

Ari knew who would be bringing the tiger. He knew Fara and Virtus well, since Fara had once been his Guardian and we'd all traveled to the Shallows together last semester. But the barghest was news to him. Still, he chose to comment first on the beast that was more familiar to him.

“A tiger,” he murmured, frowning and refocusing his gaze on the silver bracelet I wore. He'd seen it on Rafe's wrist countless times last semester so he knew whose it was. “Did something happen to Rafe, Noon? Down in southern Halja?”

To his credit, Ari looked genuinely sorry. Which was why I was so quick to correct his misunderstanding.

“Lots of things happened,” I said, grunting inwardly.
What an understatement,
I thought, although I knew now wasn't the time to tell Ari the
everything
that Rafe had suggested I tell him. “But Rafe didn't die. He decided to train with the Ophanim knights.”

BOOK: White Heart of Justice
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