Page 48 of Each Their Own Devil

“I just do. I ate from the tree myself, remember? We should continue on foot.”

Aleja did not realize how much she would miss the elk until she was no longer on it. From atop the creature’s back, the hills had seemed less imposing. Garm caught up to them as Aleja’s boots hit the ground unsteadily, and she was forced to shoot a hand out and grasp his helmet as she landed.

“Your hellhound is loyal,” the Messenger noted, as she joined Aleja on the ground and the elks both wandered off to graze among the dandelion greens.

“Loyal enough to sink my teeth into your throat should the Lady of Wrath ask,” Garm said with a rare amount of calm.

“Garm, that’s enough,” Aleja said, but the Messenger chuckled.

“I would expect no less,” she answered. Aleja knew she must be deluding herself, but the Messenger’s smile looked genuine. “Are you ready, Aleja?”

Aleja tried to remember if the Messenger had ever used her real name and couldn’t recall. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Ah, how foolish of me. I had forgotten our friendship would only last until you got what you wanted from me.”

“Friendship? This isn’t even analliance, Messenger. This is a temporary ceasefire. Walk, before either of our armies have the chance to ruin our plans.”

“As you wish.”

Garm stayed close to her, the fragrant air of the Astraelis realm enough to wash away the slightly sulfuric smell of his fur. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he said, voice low, as he slowed their pace and allowed the Messenger to trail ahead.

“Of course not.”

“Don’t you want your memories?”

“Yes. Maybe,” Aleja muttered. “I just never thought it was a real possibility. What if it…what if it changes me? What if I’m not the same person anymore?”

“I don’t think that’s possible.”

“No? Do you think you’re the same person who made a bargain with a Knowing One that you couldn’t fulfill? Besides, I’m choosing the other fig.”

Garm did not have an answer for that, but he huffed and nudged Aleja’s shoulder, forcing her attention back to the Messenger, who had stopped walking. Ahead of them, it was as if the hills themselves had parted like grand green curtains, revealing an enormous fig tree.

It was so much like the second Trial that for a moment, Aleja almost shouted for the Messenger to stop—that this was a trick, and whatever purpose they had for gathering the figs was meant to force them to betray each other.

“Is that it?” Aleja whispered, coming to stand beside the Messenger. On this small patch of even ground, the top of Aleja’s head barely reached the Messenger’s biceps.

“That’s it,” the Messenger said. There was a wistfulness in her voice that Aleja would have doubted was genuine ifshe thought the Messenger would bother faking wistfulness. “I thought my calling was a trick, and I was to be killed just as my husband had, for… I don’t know. Having the gall to love a man who Iknewdidn’t fully subscribe to the ideals I had been taught since I was a girl. But for whatever reason, the First chose me.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Aleja whispered back. It was all she could muster.

The Messenger shrugged. She turned her head to the skies, her mask stilling as she scanned the clouds for what must have been signs of another Avisai, or perhaps a Throne, come to warn its commander of a brewing battle at the border. “I’ve gotten sentimental in my old age. Something that you will understand soon, I suppose. Are you ready, Wrath?”

NO, every voice in Aleja screamed.

“Yes,” she said.

“You must walk to the Tree on your own. Once you are there, you will be tempted. The fruit of the First Tree is sweeter than any that exist in any world. Each bite will grant you power and knowledge that is, to others, unimaginable. The voices will whisper to you… They will offer you every fruit on the branch—the means to fill your belly and your mind with whatever you could possibly need, for all eternity. Look at me, Wrath. Look at me and swear to me that you will resist this temptation. You must only takeonefig from the tree, do you understand?”

Aleja fought the urge to wipe her damp palms against her pants. She had assumed that it would not be so simple as walking up to the tree and yanking a fruit off of its branches, but damned if this didn’t feel like she was starting another Trial—one she hadn’t had a moment to prepare for, either mentally or physically. “Nowyou tell me this?”

“I know what Trials the Second puts his Dark Saints through, and you’ve done them twice now—this should be easy for you.Your hellhound will be able to walk no farther with you than the tree’s shadow. Do not attempt to take him with you.”

“I willnotlet her go alone,” Garm growled.

“You, hellhound, would become distracted by the first piece of glamoured meat that the tree dangled in front of you. You will be a liability for Aleja once you pass across the shadow’s edge.”

“She’s right, Garm. Stay here and make sure that the Messenger doesn’t try to come after me and stab me in the back,” she said. It was a half-hearted demand. She didn’t think the Messenger would do any such thing; they wouldn’t have come so far together if that was the case.

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