Page 42 of The Misfit Mage and His Dashing Devil

No. It was untrue. Bez had upheld everything between our arrangement, gone out of his way to save me, and agreed to my deal even though it’d have been so much easier not to.

Yes, it was the Diabolic bond. Had to be. Still, maybe if I proved I could be trusted, he wouldn’t…well, he wouldn’t change. Maybe if we did this together. Did it right. He’d realize his freedom didn’t have to involve murdering everyone who crossed his path. He had a Diabolic friend. Morax. A demon who’d lived in the shadows of Seattle for decades without brutality. He trusted her with his life, said so himself. Maybe Bez could learn the same.

“Now that we’re here, I’d like you to do a hawk’s eye observation spell.”

“A what?” Bez leaned forward, tilting his head like he was actually listening intently, but in reality, he wanted to invade my space and make me anxious. It wouldn’t work. I backstepped, avoiding his warm touch.

“It’s a sophisticated incantation.” One far too complex for me to handle. “It’ll be an easy show-off moment for you.”

“Can’t.”

“Yes, you can.” I gestured to his shaggy black hair and vibrant neon orange roots, along with the additional piercings he’d glamoured—well, maybe he’d stolen them from some shop when I wasn’t paying attention. He was a devil. But he definitely didn’t have two pierced studs in his ears before or the industrial bar on his left. His hair, piercings, and sunglasses screamed rock ‘n roll, but his suit said strictly business. Then there was his actual personality which roared ‘insufferable.’ “I’ll walk you through it.”

“I don’t have much magical residue stored and currently using what remains sparingly,” Bez bemoaned like he’d endured such a travesty at having to prioritize what remained. Prioritize it over superficial, glamoured bullshit. “If you want this simple little incantation performed, you’ll have to do it yourself.”

“It’s not a simple spell. It’s a complex collection of several incantations collided together to make one massively powerful stealth spell. Thissimple, as you put it, incantation has to be precisely stacked on top of one another, or the whole thing will implode.”

“But you know how this works. All the words. What you need to do is get out of your dumb little head and use your annoying big brain to perform.” Bez thumped my forehead. “Or I can just bust in, break some bones, retrieve the book, and we can be on our way.”

I glared. He wanted that: Me to admit I was too weak to perform this and give him permission to loudly break inside. It’d be best to attempt it myself and fail—as the most predictable outcome—than to give Bez free rein into infiltrating a vanguard outpost. I’d seen him hold his own surrounded by over thirty mages. The half-dozen living in this suite would be eviscerated if he went inside.

I visualized the sigils in my mind, attempting to draw them through a mental image. This would be easier with a wand. It’d be easier with parchment to trace them out. It’d be possible if someone conjured the magic, and the only step which remained was the activation. I’d done that plenty while working in the repository.

Bez brushed up behind me. I shuddered despite how warm he was, how soothing his touch felt.

“Relax,” he whispered. Soft and raspy. “You know the words. Pull the mana up from your core and release the magic.”

Easier said than done. I muttered the first word, holding the blue, glowing sigil of magic between my hands. This simple incantation would cloak the spell. Now came the hard part. Keeping a grip on the sigil, I whispered the second word. A faint pink sigil rested atop the first, combining the extended vision I’d need to see beyond the walls within the suite. Stacking sigils of different natures was difficult. They resisted my grip like magnets possessing the same poles of attraction. Ironic since these two sigils held no similarities. That was what made the hawk’s eye observation spell so advanced. Even skilled practitioners struggled to combine incompatible incantations.

“Next.” Bez’s gravelly voice sent a chill through me.

Was he taunting me? False encouragement meant to build me up only to cackle when I screwed up the stacking factor. I clenched my jaw, growling the next incantation. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. One after another, I placed differing sigils atop each other.

“Don’t drop ‘em,” Bez teased.

“Shut up,” I snapped, almost releasing the stacked sigils.

Shit. I took a deep breath. To keep them together, I had to have a level head. This wasn’t combat. There was nothing to knock me off my emotional center—except for Bez. Pressing my palms as tightly together as possible, I whispered a repetitive chant for each incantation until the sigils threaded. Glowing little strings tethering these opposite spells together the same way the Diabolic essence had forced Bez and me together.

I opened my palms, releasing a golden silhouetted hawk. It soared high, observing the suite and linking to my vision. The rooftop appeared translucent beneath my feet. I trembled. Not out of fear but delight. I wanted to shout. Jump. Flip off every person who’d ever laughed at me for messing up a simple incantation. I’d literally performed a top-tier incantation on my own. Burying my excitement, I sent the hawk through the building walls in search of the grimoire, navigating through the corridors and avoiding the nearby mages. I smiled. It was so easy—I’d never been this successful before with a simple spell, let alone something this advanced.

Vanguard Corvine’s grimoire lay alone on a table. A thick black book with silver lining and a matching lock. Not something easily accessible, but Al would find a way. There were a dozen intricate incantations that would override the failsafe. Carefully avoiding Corvine’s gaze, I instructed the spelled hawk to grab the grimoire, imbuing it with gold so it cloaked the spell book. I skirted it through the suite up toward the ceiling.

“Shit.” I bit my lip. I forgot the intangibility overlay sigil, so there’d be no way to carry the grimoire through the door.

“What?” Bez asked.

“I forgot to cast a sigil. The hawk has intangibility, but without the overlay, it won’t transfer to held items, which means I failed, and you get to grab the damn grimoire.”

“Chill, little overthinker.” Bez patted my stomach.

“What’re you doing?” I tensed.

“You don’t need mana to make an alteration.”

I felt Bez inside me.

Gross.Phrasing.

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