Page 56 of The Demon's Discovery
I obeyed, and this time the bell’s tone was crisp and resonated through the small room in a way that should have been impossible. The instrument was no bigger than the palm of my hand and somehow, the little shake I’d given it made the dishes in the kitchen cabinets rattle.
“Good, good,” Ophelia muttered as she tossed open the window. “You’ve made a friend at that school in recent weeks, haven’t you?”
I itched to look over my shoulder at Vassago. Thoughfriendwas an unusual word for whatever it was we were. Especially now. Even more so with her declaration about us being mates. And me having his mark. I wasn’t even sure what that meant.
“A friend?”
“Not human.” Ophelia’s mouth curled into a smile as the heavy sound of wings beating came close, and a large raven landed on the sill. It cocked its head to the side so it could look at us with its good eye, clicked a few times, and blinked as it took us in. He dipped down on one leg almost as though trying to bow.
Ophelia cooed over him, stroking his beak and the feathers on the top of his head. “Hello, little beast. Aren’t you lovely? Yes, I know, the wards are bothersome, but so are unwelcomevisitors, you see.” She looked from him to me, and I felt awkward standing there, subject of, but excluded from, their conversation. After several low comments, Ophelia turned back to me. “Your raven’s name is Belmont, though he doesn’t mind that you call himbird. He likes when you leave him eggs best—three-minute is his favorite, though raw is fine too. Berries run a close second. He’s doing his absolute best to help the cats rid the barn of rodents. He likes you.”
“I like him too. Hello, Belmont.” I stumbled over my words, feeling awkward. But as I tasted the name, something rang in my mind, a sense of rightness settling over me. “Thank you for the gifts you’ve left for me,” I said, making sure to look at him instead of Ophelia, reaching my hand out so he could choose whether or not to accept a few beak strokes. “The red glass is my favorite. I keep it near the window with my crystal so I can see it when I wake up in the morning with the sunlight behind them.” He lifted his beak and made a long cawing noise, making me flinch. Close up and contained in the small house, his voice wasloud. “I’ll be sure to ask Grace for more eggs.”
The bird made the knocking sound in his throat, feathers splaying at the praise and promise of his favorite food.
Ophelia chuckled. “Yes, yes. You’ll be a truly spoiled bird in no time, well done. You know what this means?” He chattered at her. “Very well, you’ll have your wish, I’ll see if the demon will help me post the official request. Help yourself to my berry patch while you wait. There’s likely plenty of rodents in the brambles you can help with too.” He turned and flew back out the window, headed toward the rear of Ophelia’s house.
“Sorry, official request? For what?”
Ophelia pinched coarse salt, then some crumbled herbs, and put them both in the tiny cauldron hanging over a candle on the table. After a beat, she added a broken piece of clear crystal to the pot as well. All she said in response was, “We’ve much todiscuss.” She put her hand out, and I reflexively offered mine, sucking in a quick breath when the pain from a quick finger stick registered. “Just a drop of blood for this next part.” Ophelia squeezed my finger over the cauldron, one of my knuckles bumping the outer edge of the rim as she yanked my hand.
I peered over my shoulder, and Vassago wore an intense frown, gray mist curling around the edges of his body. He looked ready to pounce, his weight balanced and ready to leap to my side if necessary.
“You’re more well-behaved than your brother,” Ophelia muttered. “He was halfway across the room by this point.”
Vassago’s eyebrows drew together, and the corners of his mouth pulled even further toward the floor. “Iamthe more cultured of the two of us,” he said, voice unnaturally neutral.
It was interesting to watch the exchange between them, mostly because he was generally good-natured and happy. It also spoke volumes about the respect he had for this petite old woman. It was fascinating, and I couldn’t explain how, but I knew I wasn’t in danger from her.
Ophelia let go of my hand, and I stuck my throbbing fingertip in my mouth to soothe the sting, finding a little burn mark on my knuckle where it had bumped the edge of the small cauldron.
“Here we are,” she crooned, pleased as the mixture in the cauldron began to emit a yellowish-orange smoke.
I gasped as the smoke formed a portrait of my mother. So many years had passed since I’d seen her face, my memories were scant at best, but the image immediately brought tears to my eyes. I recalled her features upon seeing them again, like I’d never been without them at all; the tilt of her smiling eyes, the crinkle in her nose. I reached out a hand but pulled back, afraid to disrupt the likeness. I wanted to stare at her for as long as possible.
I blanched as my mother’s smile widened, and she looked right at me. I fought the overwhelming urge to run toward her for a hug. I thought she was about to fade out, but instead she moved to the side. A second figure appeared, a man. One with a bright smile and kind eyes. A brutal scar ran from one temple to under the ear on the opposite side of his face. He dipped his head, holding both sides of my mother’s face as he planted a gentle kiss on her mouth. He looked at her lovingly, longingly. She gazed up at him as though he was her whole world. I sucked in a breath when he turned forward again, smiled, winked at me, and then waved his hand, disrupting what little was left of the smoke. Then, they were both gone, and I felt overwhelmingly bereft.
Vassago’s peaceful presence warmed my back, and his fingers laced into mine. I swiped the tears from my eyes and breathed out heavily. Having a chance to see her face again was both the best remedy and worst curse for the hole in me her disappearance had left behind.
Ophelia took a deep breath and used an arm to sweep everything on the table into disarray before opening the window again.
I turned, finding Magnus beside Vassago. His eyes were misty and one of his hands gripped the front of his shirt. He gave me a sad smile. My heart clenched, he clearly loved his sister and missed her fiercely. He’d needed to see her again as much as I had.
“Well. That went much nicer than the last time I had visitors like you, I’ll say that, but that fellow at the end is a puzzle, wouldn’t you say? I need more whiskey. Always more whiskey when I have company like you lot.”
She stomped off toward the kitchen, chuckling when I called out that I would like one as well.
Chapter 24
Vassago
Greta grimaced as she swallowed down the last of her cup. I worried that she might have gone ahead too brazenly drinking the whole thing in one go, but I wasn’t going to judge.
“Candy?” Ophelia offered. Greta was the only one to accept a piece from the bag, though at the first taste of the potent flavor, she looked as though she regretted her choice. Her eyes went wide with panic for a moment, and I realized she’d swallowed it whole. “Shall we start at the beginning, perhaps?” Ophelia queried. “You know nothing of that man? Your father?”
Greta shook her head. “No, I never met him. Not that I can remember, anyway.”
“As far as I know, there are no records of him either,” Magnus offered. “Rowan was careful. All I ever knew was that she’d met someone and she was happy. I didn’t know his name or where he was from. Nothing at all. Toward the end of her pregnancy, she stopped speaking about him altogether.” Magnus frowned. “I got the impression something had happened, but she never told me anything more about it. I didn’t push. She had her secrets and I had mine. Then shedisappeared. I wish more than anything I’d asked questions, even if she’d withheld answers.”
