Chapter 6

 

They found shelter in the center of a circle of stones as the heatwave dissolved into night, and with it came the crippling cold. Clou parked his wagon off to one end, away from them and erected his own campsite separate from the one Magnus had built. The demon’s fire bloomed a deep, electric blue that rippled along the wall in delicate waves. It contrasted with the deep orange of Magnus’s flames. Together, the two-battled overhead in a ballet of fire and ice that was almost hypnotic to watch from Magnus’s makeshift bed against one of the walls.

Dante lay curled next to Reggie’s feet as the Caster sat watch on a boulder next to the flames. He was using one of Magnus’s best knives to whittle at a bit of wood he’d found while gathering kindling. Magnus was tempted to pitch a rock at his head and tell him to knock it off before he dulled the blade, but exhaustion kept him firmly in place, his arms too heavy to do more than lay at his sides and hold tight to his own daggers.

At the wagon, Nobu was changing the wraps on his companion’s chest. The firelight flickered over the wide gashes running rib to shoulder in a perfect slash. Magnus attempted to feel some shred of sympathy, even guilt, but neither came, unlike Reggie, who had gone over to see if there was anything he could do to help. His brother’s bleeding heart would one day get him killed. Of that, Magnus was certain.

He shut his eyes and willed sleep to come. But despite his exhaustion, all his senses remained painfully alert. Every pop from the fire, every hiss of blade on wood, every scuffle, groan, and whimper from the injured man, drummed in his ears. The smell of burning meat made his nose wrinkle and his stomach sour. He and Reggie had already eaten the fish Magnus had caught at the lake. Nobu had fed himself and his man. The smell was coming from the demon on the opposite end of the cavern.

Magnus turned his head to peer across the dank distance and squint at the bit of meat Clou had hovering over the open flames. The stick itself was ablaze and the meat had turned into a lump of black cinder, yet the demon continued to rotate it slowly with methodical concentration.

“I think it’s cooked,” Reggie announced to the raisin, also watching the scene.

Clou poked his glasses higher up on his face and squinted at his supper. “Almost.”

He kept it deep in the folds of the fire for another five full minutes before lifting the torched stick and snuffing out the flame. The charred bit of meat was crumbling ash, but he peeled it off the stick and popped it into his mouth.

Reggie clicked his tongue and gave his head a baffled shake before lowering it to the bit of wood in his palm. “I’ve heard of people liking their meat well done, but Jesus…”

Magnus snorted. He started to close his eyes when they flicked with a mind of their own over the demon’s round head and fixed on the coach draped in a beautiful spill of shadow the magnetic blue and black of light and darkness. Its shimmering glow teased something deep in the pit of his chest. It toyed with the dormant beast he kept chained and the creature stirred, something it hadn’t done in centuries. That fact alone was enough to push Magnus to his feet.

“Mag?” Reggie’s head jerked up in surprise by the unexpected movement. The knife slipped and cut a nick in his thumb. He swore and stuffed it into his mouth. “Fuck!”

Magnus ignored his brother as he stalked the distance to the Sorta demon.

“What’s in the wagon?”

Reggie came up alongside him, dagger in one hand, bit of wood in the other. Dante on his heels.

The Sorta demon peered up, adjusted his glasses and blinked. “That is not for me to say.”

“Then open the door,” Magnus retorted.

“Magnus, what—?”

“No,” Clou cut in.

Magnus started forward only to be drawn short by Reggie.

“What are you doing?”

That should have been enough to snap him out of it. Whatever was in that wagon had nothing to do with him. Magnus knew he was being irrational, yet the drive, the relentless and maddening grind boring into his very soul tossed aside his rationality. It was a crushing thrum deep in the cavity of his mind, driving out all other thoughts, needs, and desires. His only goal in life had inexplicably become that wagon and the item within.

“Give me the keys,” he demanded.

“Knock it off!” Reggie planted himself in front of Magnus, warding him back with one hand planted firmly against the other man’s chest.

Magnus smacked it aside and took a threatening step towards the demon. “Keys!”

“Magnus!” Reggie tackled him back three full steps.

Dante whined in concern. His massive body shifted anxiously, but he remained out of the way.

Magnus struggled beneath the hold, fighting with all his strength to unlatch the arms Reggie had banded around his middle. It shouldn’t have been possible for him not to be able to break free. He was stronger than his brother. He was faster. There was no logical way Reggie could possibly hold him back alone.

Yet he was.

Reggie had him restrained as though Magnus were a child. That alone ceased the scuffling.

He scrambled back a foot, bewildered.

“What…?”

“It is not yours to take,” the unfazed Sorta demon said sagely, attention fixed on skewering another strip of meat onto the burnt stick.

Breaths pumping out in rapid pants, Magnus stared at the shriveled bit of flesh wrapped around a misshapen frame, his mind and body at war. His mind couldn’t believe his body’s weakness and his body couldn’t believe his mind had been so easily overcome by an outside force. Neither one was happy about the situation.

But the jolt to his system was enough to calm the roiling storm that had boiled up inside him. It cleared the fog surrounding his thoughts and he cursed. One hand lifted and scrubbed viciously against his face. He sucked in a breath that got lodged in his chest.

“Mag?”

He shook his head. “I’m okay.”

Reggie peered at him, dubious. “You sure?”

Magnus straightened. “Yeah.”

His brother relaxed a notch, but remained firmly planted in Magnus’s way. “What happened?”

“I don’t know.” Magnus turned away from the looming temptation coaxing him to try again. “Stay away from the box.”

“What?” Reggie glanced at the wagon.

Magnus half expected his brother to go as rabid as he had. But when Reggie looked back, his eyes were clear, his expression bemused, but unaffected.

“Maybe you should lie down.” Reggie started to reach for him, but his hands stopped before they could make contact and drew back. “You’ve been in the sun all day,” he finished.

Magnus wanted to argue, but what would be the point? What could he possibly say that would make sense? Especially when he couldn’t explain it to himself.

He relented and made his way back to his designated spot. He dropped down onto the hard ground and shut his eyes. He could feel Reggie watching him, waiting to jump in if it looked like Magnus would fly off the handle again. But he wouldn’t. He was back in control of himself and he was going to stay that way.

Sleep never came that night, but by the time they were rumbling along the next morning, he felt semi alive. More importantly, he felt sane. The events of the last few days had been chalked up to being in that place again. He blamed his loss of control on stress and paralyzing memories.

No one else brought up the previous night, nor did they bring up the girl he had stabbed. Reggie, he understood, but Nobu had become unnaturally silent since their retrieval of the package. Anyone else would consider that a good thing, but Magnus knew better. It only intensified his distrust; Nobu may not have been able to take the wagon thanks to the Sorta demon, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t plotting something. Magnus just had to keep Reggie away from him.

He gave the reins to Reggie and walked after the cart, keeping a close eye on the warrior in case his plan was to knife Reggie in the back. But Nobu stayed next to his unconscious comrade, bathing his face with a damp cloth and occasionally saying something Magnus didn’t understand but suspected was a prayer.

The other warrior had grown worse overnight. His complexion had morphed into one of clammy discoloring that reminded Magnus of an over boiled bit of meat. It was beaded with sweat and he was breathing in short, shallow pants that rattled in his chest. Magnus recognized when a man was dying. He’d seen it plenty of times in the past, but it didn’t mollify the situation.

“Should we do something?” Reggie asked when Magnus walked up alongside the wagon.

“He’s already dead. There’s nothing anyone can do.”

Reggie shot him a quick glance. “Wow! I almost felt sympathy in that one.”

Magnus rolled his eyes. “I didn’t realize you needed sugar to season the truth.”

Reggie snorted and turned his attention back to the front. “You’d do something if that was me back there.”

“Are you sure about that?” He offered his brother a half smirk. “My dream has always been to be an only child.”

“Says the guy with the twin,” Reggie retorted dryly.

“Having a twin doesn’t mean I don’t want to strangle him some days.”

“Only some?”

They both chuckled and lapsed into an easy silence. The sled creaked and ground beneath the steady pace. But the horse was beginning to tire. He’d begun to slow and his hind legs trembled.

Magnus stopped.

“Pull over,” he said to Reggie, who complied with a gentle tugging of the reins. Magnus put two fingers into his mouth and whistled. The coach ahead rumbled to a halt. Clou’s head poked around the side. Magnus cupped his hands over his mouth and shouted, “The horses need water.”

Clou stared a second before ducking back out of sight. A moment later, he was ambling over to them.

“We rest,” he decided. “Here.”

Magnus frowned. “There’s nothing here and we’re due for another heatwave in two hours.”

“We rest,” Clou said again.

He turned and hobbled back to the coach.

“Why are we stopping?” Nobu leaped out of the wagon and marched to confront Magnus. “We need to get back. My man needs to be looked at.”

Magnus started to tell him there was nothing anyone could do for the man, but Nobu already knew that. One did not survive wars not to recognize death. Even from ten feet away, Magnus could smell the sweetly sour stench coming off the body.

“Bury him,” he said instead, not unkindly. “He’s adding weight.”

“Magnus!”

They both ignored Reggie’s gasp of outrage.

“I have already lost my entire crew,” Nobu said. “I will not leave him while he is still breathing.”

“You can’t save him. He’s suffering.”

Nobu straightened. His single eye bore into Magnus, unflinching and cold. “You killed them.”

Magnus never batted an eye. “No.”

Nobu didn’t press. They both knew no one man could ever be solely to blame on a mission. It was anger and injustice speaking for the warrior. Magnus understood it.

“The kind thing would be to end his pain,” Magnus supplied. “I can—”

“No!” Nobu snapped at him. “He is one of mine.”

There would never be friendship between them. There would never be peace. But there was a soldier’s respect and that surpassed most other things.

Magnus inclined his head once, a slight nod before he turned away to focus on the coach.

It hadn’t moved, except for the tiny demon scurrying back and forth from horse to coach, mixing buckets of Tabasco sauce and fire pit ashes together. The concoction was set before the stallion who immediately began eating.

But it was the wooden box itself that had Magnus fascinated.

There was an aura around it that rippled like a lit candle, a soft, golden glow that lured him like a moth to an open flame. Its warmth, despite the already raging heat around him, pulled at him. His foot began to lift even before his brain registered the motion.

He hit the dune hard enough to knock the wind from his chest. Sand sprayed up into his face, burning his eyes and scratching his throat.

Magnus coughed and struggled against the weight molding him into the crumbling ground. It took him a moment to realize Reggie had tackled him from behind.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he roared. “I wasn’t doing anything!”

“Bullshit!” Panting, Reggie tightened his grip. “What is with you and that fucking wagon?”

The rational thing would have been to deny it. It was crazy after all to want anything as badly as he seemed to want that goddamn coach. But even restrained, all he wanted was to get inside.

“I don’t know!” The words burst out of his throat, hoarse and tangled with his own infuriating frustrations. “I need … I need to get in there.”

Reggie loosened his hold, waited a heartbeat to make sure Magnus wouldn’t fight again, then released him all together. He rose.

“Come on.” He extended his hand. “We need to finish this and get home.” He paused, then added, “Gideon needs us to get home.”

Gideon.

Shame engulfed him. It gripped him with serrated claws, bowing him to its malicious will. He pushed to his knees and sat that way, staring at the horizon with a deepening sense of self-loathing; Gideon would never have forgotten him. He wouldn’t have allowed anything to deter him from what needed to be done, especially when Magnus had made a promise to complete the mission, come hell or high water.

He sucked in a breath, held it for four heartbeats before letting it out. He heaved himself up to his feet and turned to his brother.

“Get the horse untethered. I’ll get the water.”

Reggie went to do as he was told without question. He unhitched the horse from the cart as Magnus emptied one of their water containers into a bucket and brought it over.

“How long do you think we’re going to stay here?” Reggie asked nearly an hour later when it became apparent Clou was in no hurry to get back on the road.

“I don’t know, but we’re two hours from the nearest shelter before the heatwave hits in an hour.”

Reggie blew out a breath and squinted over to where Clou sat on the steps of the coach, idly clipping his jagged toe nails with a pair of dull shears. The demon hadn’t said a word since announcing their extended break. He didn’t even seem concerned that they were about to become BBQ.

“Maybe one of us should go over and talk to him?” Reggie decided.

Magnus started to agree, but thought better of it almost immediately.

“You go.” He propped a shoulder against the cart and folded his arms. “I’ll watch the horse.”

If Reggie suspected the true purpose behind Magnus’s hesitation, he never called him on it. Instead, he pushed away and started across the distance with Dante trotting after him.

Magnus kept a close eye on him the whole way there and even when he stood talking to Clou. Whatever was said took all of five minutes with Reggie doing most of the talking. Clou pointed at the horizon once, said something, then dipped his head back to cutting his nails.

Reggie stood over him awkwardly a moment longer before returning to Magnus’s side.

“What?”

Reggie slumped against the side of the cart next to Magnus. “He said we’re safe here.”

Magnus frowned. “What does that mean?”

Reggie shrugged. “That we’re safe?”

Magnus peered out at their surroundings, at the miles of flat, yellow sands, and his frown deepened. “He’s going to get us killed.”

Realizing he’d have to make the trip over to set this straight, Magnus cursed. He ground his jaw tight, allowing the pain to distract him as he closed the distance. His spine prickled as he passed the coach, before he trudged forward until he stood before the demon.

“We need to go!” he barked.

Clou twisted off a bit of nail and flicked it to the sand. “We stay.”

“We can’t stay,” Magnus shot back. “The heatwave is going to be on us in an hour.”

“No.”

Magnus blinked, completely thrown by the simple refusal. “What do you mean no? You’ll die along with us.”

Clou paused in his clipping to peer at Magnus. “No, not here. Here is safe.”

“No, here is not safe,” Magnus interrupted. “We’re out in the open.”

“Here is safe,” Clou said again.

Patience rubbed against the walls of his nerves. Magnus took a dangerous step forward, fingers curling and uncurling with the urge to wrap around the demon’s scrawny neck. But a hand closed around his elbow instead, dragging him back before he could carry out his urges.

Reggie met his gaze from a face littered with blotches of red, peeled skin, and layered bits of sand. He looked tired and in no mood to keep having to hold Magnus back from making irrational and completely out of character decisions. It was normally Gideon who was reckless. Occasionally, Reggie. But Magnus was the levelheaded one. The battle wise one. The one that thought things through, made plans, and made sure those plans got carried out. Lunging into every fight wasn’t like him at all.

What the devil was the matter with him? Was it being in that place again? Was it the heat? Even he couldn’t answer that. He just couldn’t shake the feeling of unease crawling under his clothes, the scuttle of tiny ants marching beneath the skin. There was something prickling at the back of his neck, a hot, clammy breath whispering his doom. It was enough to make him want to draw his blade.

“Get back on your horse.” The words came out much more violent than he’d intended. Their force nearly knocked out his tightly clenched teeth.

Clou tucked his scissors into his pocket and hopped off the steps to stand pelvis high with Magnus. “No.”

Magnus was ready to pick the little bastard up and shake him until all his damn teeth fell out.

Reggie took his arm yet again. He ignored Magnus’s snarl of warning and focused on the demon.

“Why is it safe here?”

Clou fidgeted with his glasses, fixing them higher on his face. “Axes.”

Magnus understood immediately and almost smacked himself on the brow for not having figured it out sooner.

“What’s the axes?” Reggie prompted.

“It’s the center of desert,” Magnus muttered. “The exact point where all four corners meet. The heatwave doesn’t come here,” he finished when Reggie continued to watch him with absolute bewilderment.

“Oh!” Reggie perked. “Well, that’s good, isn’t it?”

It was, except… “We’re completely in the open,” Magnus pointed out. “There aren’t even any high enough sand dunes to hide behind should we be attacked.” He looked to Clou. “How long do you plan on staying here?”

“Night.” Clou turned and hobbled his way to a small pile he’d made with all his gear.

“The entire night?” Magnus cried. “We have plenty of daylight. We can get almost all the way to the portal.”

“The night,” Clou repeated, picking up his bedroll and dusting off the sand with a sharp flick of his wrists.

“Why?” he demanded.

Clou peeked back over his thin shoulder. “Safe here.”

It would be pointless to push. The demon wouldn’t budge. There was nothing to do, except return to their wagon and build camp.

“What’s happening?” Nobu demanded the moment they returned.

“Apparently, we’re staying the night,” Magnus replied, casting a venomous glower over his shoulder. “No, we don’t know why,” he cut in when the warrior opened his mouth.

Magnus pushed past him and stalked the rest of the way to the sled.

“What’s the deal with you?” Reggie started the second they were out of earshot. “I’d say this was normal for you, but you are seriously losing it.”

Magnus grabbed the crate of food and dragged it over to him. “I’m fine.”

“Really?” Reggie challenged as he grabbed the water canister. “That’s interesting. You and I must have different opinions on what fine must look like.”

They set the items down a short distance from where the horse was nuzzling the ground.

“I just don’t like this place.”

It wasn’t a lie.

Reggie snorted as he followed Magnus back to the cart. “No kidding. Care to share why?”

“No.”

He didn’t even need to consider it.

“Well, too bad!” Reggie ceased walking and rounded on him. He crossed his arms. “You’ve been acting weird since we got here. Now, I get that this place is beyond fucked up, but not more than what we’re used to. The only difference is that you don’t normally stab innocent, unarmed people who saved our asses. I am not letting that go. I want a damn explanation.”

“Well, you ain’t getting one!” Magnus shot back. “It ain’t any of your business.”

“Ain’t?” Reggie visibly cringed. “When did you become an old western? And too bad for you. You tell me or I’m telling Mom.”

Magnus wished that didn’t affect him the way it did. It was mortifying how much those three words still had power over him. Christ, he was centuries fucking old. His mom’s wrath shouldn’t still have the power to scare the shit out of him.

“Trust me, she deserved it,” he muttered.

“No one deserves to have their kidneys removed for trying to help another person,” Reggie said.

“She wasn’t…” he broke off, because no matter what he said, his brother wouldn’t understand. In Reggie’s mind, Magnus had done the unthinkable. He had injured a helpless woman and his brother’s delicate sensibilities wouldn’t allow him to get past that. “I lived with her people while I was here the last time. They’re not good people.”

Reggie’s arms untangled and swung down on either side of him. “Were they holding you hostage?”

Magnus shook his head. “No…”

“Did they hurt you?”

The muscles in his jaw ached from the vicious grinding of his teeth. “Not the way you’re thinking.”

“Are we playing twenty questions?” Reggie muttered when Magnus refused to say more.

“Just let it go.”

Reggie narrowed his eyes. “No, I mean, I’ll keep guessing if I have to, but eventually, you’re going to tell me.”

“Or I can knock your ass out and haul you home!” Magnus bit out.

Reggie nodded. “You could, but then you’d have to explain to Mom what happened and she’ll beat your ass. That is, if I don’t do it first.” He sighed. “Just tell me.”

That agonizing pain began in his gut once more, the wrenching of demons gnawing on his insides. Every twist had him curving a little more inward until he had to take hold of the cart to keep from hitting the ground on his knees.

He turned away and made a weaving path to the campsite and dropped down on the food crate. Reggie followed him. His kneecaps popped as he lowered himself down gingerly across from Magnus and folded his legs.

His brother’s insistence was irritating. The whole thing was ridiculous. It made no sense to Magnus why the man just couldn’t just drop the subject, why it was so damn important. Why couldn’t he just let Magnus suffer this alone? But he continued to sit there, quiet, with those big, brown eyes patiently waiting for him to start.

“You’re a fucking bastard, you know that?” Magnus muttered around a dry, gritty tongue.

Reggie frowned. “Hey, watch it now. They’re your parents, too.”

He almost laughed, mostly because of the indignation on the younger man’s face, but the sound died somewhere in his throat. He lowered his head until the end of his chin brushed the front of his sweat soaked shirt.

“I found this place by accident,” he began to the patch of sand between his feet. “I don’t even remember how, honestly. I had no idea how to leave or how to survive. I nearly died more times than I can count, and I would have if … she hadn’t found me.”

“She?”

Magnus shifted, the place between his shoulder blades tingling like an unreachable itch. “Her name was Osha and she was unlike any creature I’d ever seen before. Beautiful, brave, and full of this unimaginable light…” He bit the inside of his cheek until his mouth filled with blood, still the next words came out before he could stop them. “I loved her more than I thought I could ever love anyone.”

“What happened to her?” Reggie prompted when Magnus fell silent, his head packed full of images he’d buried for too long.

Magnus raised his eyes to his brother’s wide ones. “I drove my blade into her heart.”