Page 56 of The Spell Caster

Hazel turned back to the mirror. Looking at her stack of papers, she stammered through some words, I assumed the demonic tongue she’d been studying.

The demon focused on her. “Ne baktaumin. Ol ikgam li alabilikim.”

“I… think he’s saying I’m bad at speaking,” Hazel rasped.

“Find out who this is,” Grey said.

After a painfully slow series of exchanges, Hazel cleared her throat. “His name is Adriel, and he is imorigaun palasmanen, but I’m not sure what that means. I don’t know any of the other words.”

“Baun, scriamartik ol kirmianin?” Adriel asked.

“H-Hazel,” she squeaked out her name.

“Ask him about Layla,” Calamus whispered, motioning me forward.

Moving only his eyes, the demon focused his unnerving gaze on me as I joined Hazel. She asked him a faltering question with my name in it. Adriel considered me for a moment, raising a gloved hand to his sharp chin.

“Inuaktamin,” he said.

“Not… mine,” Hazel translated.

My heart thudded in my chest. Hazel and I looked at each other helplessly.

The demon turned his head to the side, as if something had diverted his attention.

He began to speak again as he turned elegantly toward the shelf behind him and plucked what appeared to be a piece of thin, pliable leather that had been covering a golden vase. Hazel asked him another question, and he repeated something slowly. He pushed the leather at the mirror, causing it to distort and then go dark. He had covered it.

For moments, no one moved.

Quince’s face had taken on such an alarming shade, he looked ready to pass out. “That was—”

“Extraordinary,” Rhodes mumbled.

“He… um… wants us to come back tomorrow,” Hazel said. Her face was moon pale in the now-darkened arena. The candles had been extinguished by the force of the magic blasting out of the circle.

Councilor Grey, his brow pinched in a scowl, glanced at the darkened mirror. He walked quickly in the direction of the private practice spaces. “Follow me,” he said. “We may still be observed out here.”

We reconvened in the back, a small room that seemed to be dedicated to free weights.

“Calamus, how long will that spell be stable?” Grey said, wasting no time.

Calamus still looked shocked. “It’s… I’m not sure. The… mirror seems to be existing independently now. As long as no one smudges the lines too much, I don’t imagine it would be disrupted.”

Grey’s robes fluttered as he paced back and forth, scrubbing his chin. “Quince, when we’re done, call Daire and have her send two guardians. One for each door. We need to keep everyone out.”

“Of course,” Quince said.

My face must have betrayed some disbelief, because Grey narrowed his eyes and looked at me directly as he spoke to the group. “We’ll call a full meeting of the Arcaenum for a long-term plan later, but for now we should assume this is immediately dangerous.”

“We can’t just leave that thing there,” said Rhodes.

“It’s a good opportunity, though, isn’t it?” My mother’s silky voice drew our attention. “We could learn more about Hell. It’s obvious we’re… underinformed.”

Grey’s eyes glittered disconcertingly, and he gave her an approving nod. “We’ll meet here again tomorrow. Question the demon.”

“What about me?” I said through numb lips, my instincts screaming at me to run as far away as possible. Whatever this was, I did not want to get involved.

“I don’t think Layla needs to join us,” Calamus said quickly. “I’ll try to find out more if I can,” he told me gently, placing his hand on my shoulder. “Can I walk you out?”

---