Page 87 of Demon's Bride

“I’m alright,” I assure her. “My husband brought me back through the Veil. Just temporarily.”

At the words ‘my husband’, her face falls and I want to kick myself.

“I see,” she says slowly. “You’re here looking for help with the bargain?”

I nod. “Yes, I am. I’m hoping you could tell me more about what happened when you were in the demon realm.”

Emilia gathers her thoughts for a few moments before speaking. “Right after I went in, I felt wonderful. So powerful. More powerful than I’d ever felt in this realm.”

My stomach drops. “How long did it last?”

“A few months. Everything was great. Sylas was great, and we were so happy together.” Her eyes go far away, staring out the windows and into the forest like she could see all the way to the Veil and back through to the demon realm. “Then I started to… get sick. It was headaches, at first, and then I couldn’t keep anything down. When my magick started to fail, Sylas brought me to the court under the mountain to see if anyone there could help me.”

“And you met Vayla?”

An unlikely, slightly sad smile blooms on Emilia’s lips. “Yes. We both tried to understand what was going on. Not just with me, but with the magick in the entire realm. Things were getting bad so fast. Storms, earthquakes, crop failures. No one could understand the reason for it. I could feel it, though. How much the magick was fracturing, the way it felt so unsteady.”

I nod silently, well aware of just what that feels like.

My mother, who’s watched the whole interaction silently from the other side of the desk, interjects. “Since Emilia’s been back, we’ve been testing a few theories about what might have gone wrong.”

“Have you found out anything that might help?”

She doesn’t answer right away, and it’s all the information I need. Hopes growing dimmer and dimmer by the second, I turn back to Emilia.

“There’s nothing else you can think of?” I ask gently, not wanting to push too hard, given how fragile she seems.

Still, when she answers, there’s nothing but calm, sturdy resolve in her voice. “There’s nothing. I’m sorry. I wanted so badly to fix it, to stay there with Sylas, and...”

I reach forward and rest my hand on her forearm. Briefly, I wonder if I’ve crossed a boundary given how little we actually know each other, but Emilia lays her hand over mine, giving it a squeeze.

“I wish I could help you.”

“I know,” I tell her. “Is there anything I can do to help you? Anything you’d like me to tell Sylas when I go back?”

I haven’t met Sylas yet, but I’m sure Eren would help me get word to him.

“If I write a note for Sylas, and one for Vayla, would you take them back with you?” Emilia asks.

“Of course,” I assure her, mind catching a little on the fact that she and Vayla apparently must have become good friends while she was in the demon realm.

Maybe part of the reason Vayla dislikes me so much.

My mother offers her some parchment and a pen, and she spends the next few minutes writing. While she does, I stand and walk over to the wide windows at the back of the office.

Looking out over the grounds, a hundred memories flood in all at once. Summer days spent running through the gardens, the fires of Samhain glowing brightly in the crisp autumn night, snow-covered Yuletides, and the first warm day of spring.

Other memories, though, are right on their heels. The loneliness of feeling like an unwanted stranger in a place that once felt like home. The disappointment in my mother’s eyes every time I tried and failed to grasp even elementary magick. Not being able to bring myself to sever ties completely and coming back each month to tuck myself away in the archives, pretending I still had a place here.

Was any of this worth it? The book was, certainly, but being here, putting myself back in this headspace… and for what? To learn nothing that can help me?

Lost in thought, I startle a little when Emilia rises from her chair and comes to join me at the windows. Handing me the two letters, her face is creased in sorrow.

“I’m so sorry, Allison,” she says softly. “I wish I could have prevented all of this.”

“It’s not your fault,” I tell her, taking the letters.

Unexpectedly, Emilia reaches forward and pulls me into a hug. Even with as thin as she is, there’s a surprising amount of strength in her embrace.

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