Page 136 of The Girl Who Inherits the Dead

“If this is the human side, then she’s a lot more demon than you think,” Delina says, even though she’s far less than confident in that, but Maison nods along absentmindedly.

“But this suggests some form of cooperation, so it would be early in the…event,” Maison continues for her, and a hint of a dimple shows on his chin. “And it’s not…malicious.”

He spreads the magic between his hands, and it glistens. Still off, still unreal, but it’s malleable in his grip.

Still feels sick.

“Not that this isn’t interesting,” Chloe starts, and the demon trap unwinds with a snap, sending harmless sparks skittering across the room, “but this is some weird spell weaving.”

“Weird how?” Gurlien asks, voice well and truly frustrated. “All I see is an empty shack.”

Chloe just has a glimmer of mischief in her eyes, just the hint of something, before she cracks another bit of magic in her hand and the entire room…unfurls.

Before she can even think, Maison has an arm across Delina’s chest, backing her out of the doorway, but Chloe stands, her hands on her hips with something close to satisfaction in her stance.

A rug rolls out, covering the bare wooden slates, and though the room doesn’t grow, a couch shimmers into existence and a bed tucks itself into a corner. The lone fireplace, with broken bricks, rights itself, pristine.

There’s a counter, a stove, and though there’s no electricity that Delina can see, everything is clean and everything glows faintly with gold.

All four of them stare at the room, then Gurlien sighs, explosive. “Illusion spell?”

“Weird one at that,” Chloe says, honest-to-god dusting off her hands. “But it’s safe.”

Maison doesn’t budge for a long second, before his shoulders relax and he lets his arm fall away.

Gurlien pushes past them, unzipping his jacket and letting the cat jump out. Chance sniffs the rug, his nose twitching, before turning around and meowing loudly at them.

Slowly, Delina steps inside, and the carpet is plush against her feet, finer than anything she’s ever stepped on.

Maison settles a hand against her back, but follows her in, breathing deeply. “Still sets my teeth on edge. Not malicious, it’s not gonna hurt us, but…”

Chloe prods at the stove, and it does absolutely nothing.

“It’s a place to stay,” Chloe says, opening the cupboards, revealing them empty.

They had bought sandwich makings at the last town, so they won’t go hungry, but Delina at least wishes there was some way of making a hot meal.

The wind still blows through the cracks, but it’s warmer, somehow, and Delina just breathes out, then hesitates.

Something bothers her at the back of her head, so she crouches down, looking underneath the bed.

Of course, there’s a box, clean and pristine, the metal edges glinting in the golden glow.

“Your mother was insane,” Gurlien’s saying, flopping over on the couch, and the cat sniffs along the arms, but Delina’s ears buzz. “It’s an abandoned shack, there’s no reason for this amount of security.”

“It’s just the paranoia,” Chloe replies flippantly. “Remember how bad the cabin was when we first got there?”

Delina doesn’t reach out to poke the metal box, it’s not the same sensation she got when looking at the locked safe at the last apartment.

“Delina?” Maison asks, crouching next to her, then peering under the bed. “There’s nothing there.”

“Oh, so it’s something disguised that only I can see,” Delina replies, and Maison raises an eyebrow at her, and she getsthe strong sensation that he really wishes he could yank her backwards but he’s restraining himself. “Or just necromancers?”

She straightens and everyone’s staring at her again.

“It looks like a metal box, tucked underneath the bed,” she supplies, as Maison pokes a broom handle at it, and it connects with a resounding thunk.

“Of course,” Gurlien replies, as if all exhaustion has taken all of the doubts right out of him. “She would do that.”

---