Brimstone Angels

“Oh, there’s a surprise-”

“I went back to that shopkeeper. I was looking for … for a way to make Lorcan leave me be. He said he could help. I think he mistook me for something else. A cultist of Asmodeus.”

Havilar blinked at her, hiccupping from the sobs. What did that have to do with anything? “Did you tell him you are from Tymanther?”

“That’s not … They were devil-worshipers!” Farideh shook her head. “They think the hospital is arranged against them-I don’t understand why-but they figured out I was staying there and they were about to kill me and …” She pursed her lips. “You came in.”

“I don’t remember that.” Havilar looked down at the mess of her armor. “So I saved you?”

“Sort of,” Farideh said. “Something was … in you. Fighting through you. I’m not sure … Tam said you were ‘tampered with.’ By a fiend.” She peered at Havilar. “Do you remember anything?”

Havilar wrapped her arms around her knees. She searched her memory but there was nothing. She had been practicing with her glaive in the House of Knowledge … and then she’d woken up on the floor covered in the blood of devil-worshipers.

“How did you get me here?” she asked, still staring into the hollow of her legs.

“Knocked you out and put you on a donkey,” Farideh said with a little, empty laugh. “I think we can agree your record stands, under the circumstances.”

Havilar didn’t laugh. She was shaking and crying like an infant, she’d been manhandled or mindhandled or something by a devil, and Farideh had managed to knock her out cold in a fight. Nothing was all right. “I want my glaive. I feel naked.”

“Havi?” Havilar looked up. “Could it have been Lorcan?”

She made a face. “I don’t remember. I can’t … He wouldn’t have done that, right?”

Farideh shook her head again, as if she didn’t know, as if no one could know. “Lorcan sent that damned orc. He might do anything.” She got that faraway look again, as if she were trying to decide what would go wrong next tenday, and Havilar sighed. At least that was the same.

“I found something out that you should know,” Farideh said. “About warlocks. About us. I-”

The world lurched and flashed bright, and Havilar fell half a foot, landing hard on gravel and stone chips that cut into her palms. Beside her, Farideh broke off with a yelp and landed on her hands and knees. Havilar’s nerves exploded and she sprang forward and grabbed her sister’s arm tight.

The temple was gone.

“It’s all right,” Farideh said. “It was only temporary. We need to get moving.”

Havilar searched the shadows around them. Could she even recognize a soul-seizing devil if she saw one? She kept clinging to Farideh as they stood together. “Where?”

Farideh drew a deep breath. “We need to meet Tam at the South Gate. But we can’t leave without Mehen and Brin. We have to go back to the hospital. Are you up for it?”

No-all Havilar wanted was to curl up in a ball in a hole on an island where no one was and wait for things to settle. Cowardly thoughts, and she was not the cowardly one. She was not going to leave Mehen behind, and she was not going to let Farideh be the one to save Brin. She would just have to get all of her panicking done before anything got bad. She could do that. Probably.

“I want my glaive,” she said, letting go of her sister’s arm. “And we need to walk a little slow. At first. My legs are stiff.”

Farideh glanced around the square. “I’d offer the donkey, but it’s wandered off.”

“Probably something ate it,” Havilar said morosely.

“Good. Then it’s not hungry for us.” She squeezed Havilar’s hand and pulled the rod from her own sleeve. “Let’s go.”

They wound their way toward the main road, still hand in hand, Havilar still shaking. Farideh was pretending not to notice-Havilar was sure. Gods, if she just had a weapon in her hands.

A weapon didn’t help you before, dummy, she thought.

The lights were few and far between in this part of the city, and the ruined roads were perilous. When they stepped out of the dark into the light of a pair of magical streetlights set over a recently cleared crossroads, it felt like a miracle. The rain had lightened to a drizzle, enough to make the approaching sound of arguing voices clear. Farideh stopped and pulled Havilar behind a piece of broken wall. “Hush.”

“It’s clear,” one voice said. “Are you going to do this at every crossroads?”

Havilar straightened. “Brin?” She crept forward to peer around the wall. Silhouetted in the lights she saw two shapes, two men-one of them short and slim enough to pass for much younger.

“Brin!” she cried. Havilar ran, dragging Farideh with her for a few feet before their hands broke apart.

“Havi!” Farideh shouted, but Havilar didn’t care what she was worried about. It was Brin, looking up at her shout; Brin, she threw her arms around; Brin she nearly bowled over. He hugged her back tightly with one arm. When she pulled away, she nearly wept at the sight.

“Gods, you’re here. You’re safe. And you brought my glaive.” She hugged him again. This, she thought, is all right. This is normal. This is good.

“Why are you bloody?” Brin asked.

“She’s had a rough night,” Farideh said. Havilar glanced back and saw her staring intently at the other man-a fellow taller than them both, with dark blond hair that curled to his collar, and very black eyes that were watching Farideh like she might lash out with her sword at any moment.

He smiled-and something in Havilar’s memories turned over.

“Lorcan,” Farideh said.

The man smiled-and Farideh never thought that smile could be frightened, but somehow on a human face it was. Her scar started to prickle.

“Lorcan,” she said.

“Well met, darling,” he said. “Are you all right?”

“No.”

“Farideh-”

“No.” Farideh pushed Havilar and Brin behind her and yanked the amulet out from her under her robes, pointing it at Lorcan.

He took a step back. “What is that?”

Farideh thought back to Tam’s words. “A beggar’s miracle. Vennela.”

The amulet made no light or sound, but suddenly Lorcan was screaming as his skin flared red, wings sprouted from his back and horns from his brow, and the blackness of his eyes spread from lid to lid. He fell to his knees.

Brin grabbed her shoulder. “Gods, stop it!”

Stronger than her rage, guilt slammed into her chest like a physical thing-the sound of Lorcan’s scream was so like Havilar’s when the arrows hit, so like Farideh’s own chasing after it. Animal, fearful, pained-whatever the amulet did it was hurting him. Tam hadn’t mentioned that.

The change finished and Lorcan’s screams collapsed into painful gasps for air. He looked up through his disheveled hair at Farideh. “You went over to that priest!”

What he meant to do, she didn’t know. As quickly as he was moving at her, the amulet’s power reacted and a silvery burst of magic exploded over his outstretched hand before he could touch her. Lorcan cried out again, clutching his burned hand to his chest.

“Keep back,” she said, pointing the rod at him. “If you test its limits again, I’ll make sure they don’t matter.”

“Give me that amulet.”

Farideh narrowed her eyes. “Try and take it.”

He moved forward again and this time she let loose a bolt of fire. It shouldn’t have hurt him-she knew he, like she, didn’t burn easily. She wanted to startle him, to slow him down. But the blaze that burst from the rod was hotter, brighter than expected. It struck his upraised arms and broke into cinders, but it singed his armor nonetheless and forced him back several steps.

“I am trying to help!” he roared. “You are a little fool if you-”