Page 53 of The Immortal Covenant

Perhaps it’s past time Celestials and Infernals alike learned from each other’s strengths.

Canceling his dawnflame torch plunged him into utter darkness. Malorg must have been onto something about Sarilian acclimating to the Dusklands, though, because he found he could see better than he’d expected—well enough to avoid stumbling into anything, at least.

He crept out of the sitting room, relieved to find no Infernals outside who might wonder at a door opening on its own. Then,he set off down the corridor, retracing his usual route. He passed several guards along the way, tensing each time he neared. Yet none of them appeared to notice him, their eyes gliding right past where he stood.

So far, so good.

He took a moment to steady himself once he reached the base of the Dusk Citadel, staring out at the vaguely familiar streets stretching around him. Only now was it sinking in how insane this was—how serious of a diplomatic incident he might cause should a passing Infernal detect ahiddenCelestial sneaking about their city.

Several deep breaths helped, as did reminding himself why he was doing this. A candid conversation with Malorg might be precisely what they needed to salvage the Accords. He just needed to make certain he didn’t get caught.

As he set off, he sent a quick prayer to the Light that he could still find Malorg’s apartment in all this mess. He thought he recalled the general vicinity, but Twilight’s streets were the same esoteric labyrinth as ever, and this time, he didn’t have an Infernal to duskwalk with him whenever a passage grew too tight to navigate.

It took him several anxious hours to reach the right spot—long enough that his makeshift disguise had begun to flicker, his dawnflame reserve near dry. No matter how acclimated he’d grown to the Dusklands, this wasn’t his domain, and his magic knew it.

Several times, he came close to discovery and had to improvise, using his dawnflame to create dancing lights that drew curious Infernal eyes away from him so he could slip past.

Hopefully, Malorg doesn’t kick me out without at least listening to what I have to say.I’m not sure I can make it back to the waypoint without his help.

Sarilian squared his shoulders, fighting down a tremor of nerves as he navigated through Malorg’s building. Whatever the consequences of his actions, he’d meet them head on and hope for the best. Gathering his resolve, he gave a firm rap on Malorg’s door.

As seconds turned into minutes, his determination fizzled. He’d assumed Malorg would come here, but the truth was, he barely knew Malorg anymore. He had no idea where the Infernal would go to let off steam. Perhaps the Market or Gallery.Or straight into the arms of some new lover.

Clenching his jaw, he pounded again on the door. Light take his fear and his doubt! No matter what happened, this time he wasn’t going to run or retreat. He owed it to their bond—and to the Accords—to get to the bottom of what was going on and see if he could salvage whatever lay broken between them.

Surprise gripped him when his knuckles hit empty air instead of the shadowy door. He stumbled forward, thrown off-balance. A familiar cold hand caught his chest, propping him upright. He met Malorg’s wide eyes and saw confusion flickering there, along with buried longing.

For a fleeting instant, Malorg’s fingers seemed to clutch at him as if for purchase. Then, Malorg’s expression shuttered.

Duskflame surged into Sarilian. A rippling tingle he’d never felt before crept up his spine, and he shivered at the odd sensation. The more familiar darkvision enchantment followed a beat later.

What the Light was that?

Before Sarilian could inquire, Malorg stepped back, releasing his grip. “Why are you here?” he demanded, his voice hard.

All thoughts of the strange magic fled. “To seeyou. I should think that obvious.”

He shoved past Malorg into the apartment, heart skipping a beat at the familiar surroundings. As far as he could tell, Malorghadn’t changed a thing since the last time he’d been here. All the assorted knick-knacks Sarilian had forced upon him still perched in their proper places.

A bit of his frustration melted when his eyes landed on the small Celestial statue. The thing was utterly ridiculous—a mortal’s conception of a Celestial, forged from Infernal duskflame—but he couldn’t help thinking of it as a tiny piece of himself left in Malorg’s keeping.

Malorg traced his gaze to the statue and scowled. He shut the door and loomed in front of it, arms crossed. “You shouldn’t be here. You need to leave. Now.”

Everything from Malorg’s expression to his posture screamed danger. Yet though Sarilian knew Malorg was perfectly capable of slaying him, he didn’t feel a single drop of fear. Indeed, this was the safest he’d felt since arriving in Twilight, alone here with Malorg in this place where they’d shared so many joyous hours.

A faint flush spread through him as he pointedly avoided looking toward the piled pillows. “Not until I get some answers. What was up with you today during our meeting? You were acting like you did before—like you don’twantthere to be peace between our peoples.”

Malorg glanced away, his body somehow tensing still further. “Of course, I want peace. That’s all I’ve ever wanted—to make a difference instead of living and dying as another cog in an infinite war machine created by ancient mages long since turned to dust.”

Sarilian took a step toward Malorg, halting when Malorg’s eyes flashed a warning. Relenting, he held up his hands imploringly. “Then, why try to sabotage all the progress we’ve made? Why…?”

Against his will, his gaze strayed back to the piled cushions. Memories flickered before his eyes of the myriad hours they’d passed there. Not just those spent exploring each other’s bodies,but all the soft, quiet moments as well. It was that intimacy he cherished most in retrospect, lost now to the seemingly unbridgeable distance between them.

Hesitantly, he said, “If this has anything to do with what happened on the tower, I’m sorry. I…I shouldn’t have—”

“Don’t,”Malorg said, his voice harsh with pent-up emotion Sarilian didn’t understand. His hands balled into fists flickering with duskflame. “What’s between us has nothing to do with this.”

Confusion wrinkled Sarilian’s brow. “But your reaction on the tower…and then in the meeting today—”

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