Page 38 of Hell Sent

“No,” he replied simply. The cultist blinked at him. They were all still blocking the hallway in front of him. Azreth was so impatient to get away from them that he just turned and walked the other way.

“Very well, my lord!” the cultist called after him. “We are at your service, my lord! Whenever you wish to begin, we will be ready!”

* * *

Azreth stoodbeside Raiya’s bed in the sleeping quarters that night to guard her sleep. At least, he tried to, but after an hour of cultists sidling up to him to ask for favors or whisper their desires for servitude, Raiya became annoyed and told him to wait outside.

The night became a tiring game of avoiding the cultists, many of whom seemingly didn’t sleep. Their temple was pleasantly dark and quiet, and it was easy to find secluded spots, but somehow they always found him. He would never admit it aloud, but on one occasion he glamoured himself completely brown-black to blend in with the wall of a dark room and avoid notice.

In the morning, he went to the sleeping quarters to wake Raiya, and her bed was already empty and tidy, as if she’d never been there. He found her some time later in a room that was filled to the brim with hundreds, maybe thousands, of books on shelves. It should have been the first place he looked for her.

She was sitting on her knees, bent over a large, old-looking book. Her hair draped beside her face. Her hands were splayed on either side of the book, her brow slightly furrowed as she read. She looked nice like this. He didn’t know why. She was always pretty, but even more so right then, somehow.

He knelt beside her, but she didn’t notice him, and he didn’t interrupt her work to greet her. He watched her read until she happened to sit back and look up. She smiled when she saw him. A flame in his heart lit up, burning him.

She was the only one in this temple who really wanted him, and not just to use him. It shouldn’t have mattered, but it did. He liked being wanted.

It was a very mortal way of thinking. Raiya’s ways were rubbing off on him, and that probably should have worried him.

“Look what I found,” she said excitedly, pointing at the old book. “It was written by an Ysuran mage who lived in the fourth century. It’s a study of runes found on enchanted artifacts from the hells. Look at these. They’re very similar to the ones on your hand.” She flipped through pages, pointing as she went. “And here—this section has theories about reversing bindings. Most of it isn’t relevant to you, but look at this set of runes. The runes on your hand appear to be a combination of several languages and spell types, but I think some of them use an old demonic language. We can use this as a basis for building a spell to reverse your binding. I’ve already made a few prototype enchantments for us to test.”

Azreth stared at the book, then at her notebook, dazed. Prototypes. Spells.

He asked slowly, “You can read all these runes? These spells?”

“Yes, most of them. I’ve studied runic languages for a long time. Maybe longer than I should have.” She blushed a little, embarrassed for some reason. But she happily pointed out the parallels between the runes she’d drawn and the ones on his hand, explaining in depth how her counter-enchantment would work. He didn’t understand any of it. Many of the words she said were foreign to him, and the concepts were hard to grasp.

Eventually, she went silent, waiting for his reaction. He was at a loss for words.

It wasn’t until that moment that he had understood how truly beyond him she was.

Perhaps mortals were right to think of demons as dumb beasts, because compared to her, he knew nothing of the workings of the universe. He had never studied anything the way she studied enchantments. Even if he’d wanted to, he could not read the texts she pored over. The symbols on the page held no more meaning to him than the runes on his palm. The idea that she could absorb meaning from the writing covering the page felt almost like magic in itself.

His own magic ability came from instinct, not from a true understanding of how the magic worked. It was like everything else he did—he was only good at fumbling his way through by brute force.

She was young for a mortal, but she had already learned so much and gained so much skill.

“You are very clever,” he said softly. It was an entirely inadequate way to describe her.

“Oh. Thank you,” she said, as if it was nothing.

“I thought you were a mere craftsman of enchantments, not an inventor of them. You have impressive skill.”

“I don’t know about that. But I’m glad I can be of assistance.”

“You offer more than just assistance,” he said quietly. “If you were not with me, I would be trapped and without hope.”

She looked surprised. After a moment, she reached down and put her hand on his. There was a feeling almost like sadness coming from her.

“I’m glad I can help,” she said. “No one should be trapped or hopeless.”

He curled his fingers around her hand, just holding it.Warmth enveloped him.

“What will you do after you’re free?” she asked. “You said you will not return to the hells.”

“No. I will remain here with you.”

She blinked. “With me?”

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