We had to behave our best. Check that. I had to. And if there’s one skill you develop from growing up the son of a demon prince, it’s lying through your teeth. You tell enough lies, you start believing them yourself, until it all sounds like the truth.
“I’m sorry,” I said, making my words a little stilted, a little clipped. “It’s been hard dealing without my things. You’re right. I need my books more than I care to admit.”
See? It already sounded like the truth.
She shook her hand at me, scoffing. “Whatever, man. I was just asking questions, one mage to another. Maybe it’s morning moodiness. Have some more coffee, maybe you’ll quit being so damn grumpy.”
I lowered my head slightly, trying to make myself look contrite. Fine, okay, so I really was sorry, at least a little. “About that,” I said, meaning to shift the mood at the table. “How are you keeping these eggs fresh? How is that toaster running, or that stove, for that matter?”
Yes, granted, I knew embarrassingly little of how the human world worked, but if there was any power in the building, we wouldn’t have had to resort to warming ourselves around a campfire the night before.
Crystal snapped her fingers. Three tiny orbs appeared in the palm of her hand, spinning in a neat little orbit: one blue, one yellow, one red. “I’m a dabbler. Little bit of this, little bit of that. And it doesn’t take a lot of elemental magic to keep a carton of eggs at forty degrees, you know? Same with the toast. A little heat is all you need. And for minor electrical applications, say, charging my phone?” She picked up the tiny yellow orb, a small bit of ball lightning, and rolled it like a marble between her fingers. “You just gotta get the voltage right.”
I spent a few extra seconds actually biting the side of my tongue, genuinely impressed. And truthfully, pretty jealous, too. Thankfully, Pierce spoke up for the both of us.
“That’s really cool that you can do all that. Right, Quill?”
I made a noncommittal grunt from somewhere inside my throat.
Crystal shrugged. “I’m a dabbler, like I said. Curses, hexes, some small-time elemental magic. Aren’t you a dabbler, too?”
I shrugged back. “Mostly fire magic, and some defensive spells.” I laced my fingers around my wrist, staring at the back of my hand. “I know I could diversify some, but it’s tough when you find what works for you, you know?”
She nodded. “Relatable. But it’s nice to have a little versatility, to be honest. I’ve learned just enough about ice magic to cool the place down, too. It’s not as horrible here in the summer as you might think.”
Pierce rested the side of his head in his palm, watching her curiously. “I’ve been meaning to ask, actually. How’d you end up here? Why are you on your own?”
She shook her head, a thin smile on her lips. “Bit of a long story, honestly.” She folded her arms, shivering slightly.
Pierce reared back and cleared his throat. “It’s honestly no big deal if you don’t want to talk about it.”
Crystal shivered again. “It’s not that. It’s just – did it just get really cold in here?”
She was right. The temperature had dropped a couple of degrees. Mr. Wrinkles bolted out of the kitchen, darting straight into the pile of blankets we’d used for a bed. Why was the sky outside darkening so quickly?
And why was frost forming on the windows?
19
“Okay, Miss Dabbler,” I said, clasping Crystal by the shoulder. “Defensive spells. How good are you with those?”
She wrenched herself away, scowling at me. “What the hell are you talking about? Defensive spells? What for? Don’t be so paranoid. That cold? The wind picked up, is all.”
“Quill’s right,” Pierce said, almost knocking over his chair as he stood up, feeling at his waist for his blades. “Wind doesn’t do that,” he added, nodding at the windows.
She looked, then gasped. They weren’t just frosting over anymore. The glass was cracking. They were back, those two bastard angels. It had to be them.
“The doors,” I said, rushing towards the entrance. “We have to barricade the doors.”
Dantaleon floated out towards me, finally getting involved in the conversation now that he had an opportunity to exert authority over me. “No. We do not hide like rabbits in a hole. We fight them, whoever our adversaries are.”
I glowered at him. “Then you can sense them,” I said. “You know it’s not just the weather turning itself upside down.”
Dantaleon’s pages rustled, the air around him wavering as he bristled with energy. “Angels. I can smell them in the air. We do not fear angels, Quilliam. No. We savor the opportunity to slaughter them.”
My fists tightened. Who said anything about fear? This was about self-preservation. Having access to the Repository meant that I could still be on equal footing. But without my books? Without the gift of Inscription? Describing myself as a sitting duck didn’t quite cut it.
I strained against the tug on my arm, turning to find a very distraught Crystal glaring at me, her expression a mix of anger and fear. “Will someone explain what the fuck is going on here? What are you talking about? Barricade? Slaughter? What’s even out there?”
She flinched as Pierce streaked ahead of us, her first time, I realized, seeing him move at his strange, preternatural pace. “Angels,” he said simply, stepping out into the sunlight even as he shivered against the chill.
“Damn it,” I grunted, following him. “Always too gung-ho. You’re going to get yourself killed one of these days.”
But Pierce, being Pierce, just lifted his chin and ignored me, his chest puffed out as he searched the grounds for our attackers. He didn’t have to search very far.
There they were, the twin angels of hail and frost, one blond, one black-haired. The grass froze into blades of ice where their
