Page 68 of The Misfit Mage and His Darling Demon

Settling these sensations, I curled my lips into a minxy grin and properly addressed Mora. “Dashing as always, which is more than I can say for you.”

“I’ve had better days,” she said, her voice gravelly.

“Roadkill’s had better days.” I pointed to the blood nearly oozing out of her. “Seriously, you look like shit.”

“Charming as ever,” she groaned. “Now that we’re finished with the pleasantries, help me find that damned knight so I can kill him.”

“He’s not alone,” I said. “Also, given your condition, bet you’re revisiting the idea of marketing such powerful cloaks to Diabolics.”

“On the contrary, it saved me a dance with some feathered fuck skittering about, so I’d say the cloak has potential.” She wiggled her fingers, almost casting shadows out of her instinctual need to add panache to her tales.

So the demon that impaled my former body back in the engine room had already made his way into the labyrinth. The endless passages would only keep Wally safe for so long. I had to get to him.

“I have to find Walter.”

“He’s fine.” She waved a dismissive hand.

“How would you know?”

“He’s with Kell.” Mora pressed her back against the wall, propping herself upright, even though her legs shook, ready to buckle any second. “I told her not to leave the room I’d sealed for her until she’d completely healed and I’d dealt with this demondebacle. But does she listen? I knew she’d wander off, so I’ve been tracking her.”

Tracking her. Of course. That was why Mora looked so rough. Between the injuries she’d sustained and then pouring what little essence she had to offer into Kell, all while maintaining a tight link on their bond, I was surprised she managed to move at all. I ground my teeth. If I were stronger like her, I would’ve ensured Wally had part of me with him, enough to know he was okay. All I had was Mora’s word, and I wanted to trust her.

“The two had a brief scare, but Kell’s emotions have settled. Her thoughts express Wally’s fine, too.” Mora pushed off the wall, ready to collapse two steps in. “I need to change.”

“You and me both.” I joked, pointing to the outdated commoner rags of my current host.

“I mean bodies.”

“Ah, so upstairs then?”

She nodded, dragging herself forward, fumbling. I swooped beside her in a blur. Resting my arm on her back, I cradled her as I lifted her up by her legs and pulled Mora into a tight embrace. She needed to conserve her strength, and we needed to move quickly.

“So chivalrous, Bezzy.” She rested her head on my chest.

“No choice. You’re moving so slow your age is finally showing itself, you old hag.”

She chuckled and closed her eyes, resting.

I didn’t want to abandon Wally down here. But he had Kell, his annoying familiar, and a hound literally bred to guard the doors of the afterlife. He’d be fine, and if I intended on ending Eligos and his demon entourage, it would help to have Mora, the craftiest demon ever, at my side.

With all the speed I could muster, I raced out of the labyrinth, upstairs onto the ground floor of the villa, then tothe second floor, and into one of the guest rooms Mora had quartered off for her stay.

Breaking free of my grasp, Mora wandered to the middle of the room and stood silently, unmoving, with her eyes closed. The seconds ticked, and my very limited patience gave way.

“What are you doing?”

“Offering Catherine a farewell. Not that she can hear me since that damn knight in shining armor killed her.” Mora sighed. “I’d been with her for twelve years. I’ll miss our conversations.”

“Yes, yes, quite tragic.” I rolled my eyes. “But perhaps we can wrap this up and go kill Eligos?”

“Catherine was a beautiful soul, and her art was entrancing. You’d have loved it,” Mora continued, practically ready to whip out a eulogy. “Now, I’ll never experience her heart put on display again.”

“Looks pretty displayed to me.” I pointed to the gaping hole in her chest.

“Don’t be so cavalier.”

Mora had a way with hosts, always finding those desperately disinterested in engaging with the monotony of the world yet eager to indulge in the few loves they had. Mostly creative types, but Mora had found a few warriors tired of battle, philosophers who sought to sink into the deep recesses of their minds to find whatever theory of meaning they believed would change the world, and scientists who delighted at the chance to extend their research over the centuries.

---