IV. A Demon's Comfort

It had been three weeks since she returned to Tamaris, and Holland already found herself riding for at least an hour every day. She wasn't certain if her fuse had just gotten that much shorter or if things were that much worse. Laenus had the sense to avoid even the sight of her, fortunately. It wouldn't last, of course, but honestly, she found herself looking forward to the idea of a confrontation with an eagerness more suited to Vladan. She couldn't hit Fionn and he was the next most deserving target.

The Argent Forest hadn't changed much since she last rode through it. The path was more overgrown, but Maël could still navigate it without a problem. She mostly just had to duck branches, which was fine as long as she didn't try to take it at speed. It hadn't taken her long to return to her old spot in the First World ruins, surrounded by the overgrown monoliths and pools of glass.

There was something different about it today, though. She almost didn't see it, but a second glance drew her attention to it. There were deep hoof-prints in the mud, larger than any stag she'd ever heard of in these woods. She inhaled sharply, catching a scent of decay, rotting plant matter and a hint of death. Before she could really react, she heard movement behind her.

"IT IS DESIRABLE TO SEE YOU."

"Orobas?" she said, spinning around. Despite all the tension that was living in her body, she felt a surge of relief. She'd never been so happy to see a demon. Then again, she'd also never known another demon like the Horned King.

He inclined his antlered head to her, featureless face barely visible in the midst of the rotted cloth and moss. She caught the gleam of his obsidian eyes, though. "CORRECT. I WAS NOT INTENDING TO ALARM. I APOLOGIZE IF I STARTLED YOU."

"Not at all. What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be back in the north, in the Mere?"

"AFTER WE LAST SPOKE AND THE NĂLUCI AGREED TO AID YOUR EFFORTS, I FOLLOWED YOUR TRAIL. OUR FATES ARE BOUND TOGETHER. I THOUGHT I WOULD BE OF MORE USE HERE, AS YOU PREPARE FOR THE END. I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR AN OPPORTUNITY TO CONVERSE WITH YOU. I CANNOT APPROACH TAMARIS, FOR OBVIOUS REASONS. YOUR DESIRE FOR ESCAPE HAS PROVIDED ME WITH THAT OPPORTUNITY."

"My desire for escape?" Holland said questioningly.

"IT SEEMS THE MOST PLAUSIBLE EXPLANATION FOR YOUR CONSISTENT ABSENCE FROM THE CITY." Orobas tilted his head slightly in his thoughtful way. "YOU DO NOT HAVE THE APPEARANCE OF CONTENTMENT."

The penitent sighed. "For a demon without any experience of emotion, you have an excellent read on people."

"I HAVE OBSERVED MORTALS FOR A THOUSAND YEARS," Orobas reminded her patiently. "THAT HAS GIVEN ME AN APPROXIMATE UNDERSTANDING OF FACIAL EXPRESSIONS, INTONATION, AND POSTURE."

Holland sat down on one of the fallen stones and watched as he crouched down on his haunches beside her. It was strangely comfortable to be in his presence. After all, he knew more about her than anyone else she spoke to, even more than Laenus ever had. While he had the capacity to pass judgment on her actions, he had chosen not to. It wasn't as though he would lose his temper with her. He just didn't have it in him, from what she could tell. "So what am I escaping from?" There was a dry humor to the words.

Orobas studied her for a long moment. "PAIN. A TEMPORARY AND INEFFICIENT RESPITE, BUT EVEN THE SMALLEST CAUGHT BREATH IS A RELIEF TO THE DROWNING."

It felt like she'd had the wind knocked out of her for a moment. "Your perception is frightening."

"IT WAS NOT MY INTENT TO CAUSE YOU FEAR."

She ran her fingers through her hair. "You haven't."

"WOULD YOU ILLUMINATE ME?" When she looked his way, Orobas was still contemplating her expression. "I HAVE ASCERTAINED THAT YOU ARE IN PAIN AND YOU ARE NOT VISIBLY INJURED OR ILL. I LACK THE REQUISITE KNOWLEDGE TO COMPREHEND BEYOND THAT BASIC UNDERSTANDING."

Holland shook her head a little bit. "It's nothing."

"YOUR PRESENCE HERE IS CONTRADICTORY TO THAT STATEMENT."

She frowned. Generally people took her at her word when she brushed them off. Even Ardashir, Khagra, and Vladan seldom pushed. "You wanted to see me?"

There was a brief moment of quiet. Orobas was fond of pauses, like he was carefully calculating each word. Entirely possible, she reflected. He was a very methodical demon, oriented particularly strongly to detail. He had to know that she was trying to deflect him.

"WE NEED NOT CONTINUE THIS CONVERSATION IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE, BUT I WOULD REMIND YOU THAT TIME IS IRRELEVANT TO ME. WASTING IT IS THUS IMMATERIAL."

Holland smiled faintly. The sentiment was a welcome one even from a demon. "I appreciate the consideration. I just...there aren't words to explain."

"I FIND THAT EXPLANATION IS MERELY A MATTER OF PATIENCE." The words were as ponderous as ever. "YOUR LIFESPAN IS CONSIDERABLY LONGER THAN THAT OF YSSANS. PERHAPS IF YOU WERE TO REFRAIN FROM RUSHING YOURSELF OR INSISTING UPON PERFECTION? YOU HAVE THE TIME AND APPROXIMATION IS QUITE SUFFICIENT, I ASSURE YOU."

She gave it a long moment before speaking, paying attention to her own breathing the way she did just before a fight. In. Out. In. Out. It was strangely calming. "Doubt," Holland said softly. "I don't think I can do this. That's all."

"IT IS UNCLEAR WHAT YOU ARE REFERRING TO. IF YOU ARE SPEAKING OF THE PRINCES OF IRON, I WOULD SUGGEST THAT THERE IS NO OTHER MORE SUITED TO THE TASK."

"I suppose I am better than nothing." The words sounded slightly bitter even to her ears. "I can't protect one person, Orobas. If Fionn can break what I care about, the Princes of Iron should have no problem trampling it into the dust."

"YOU HAVE YOUR MOTHER'S EYES," he said quietly. When she hesitated in uncertainty regarding the apparent non sequitur, he continued, "IT IS MORE THAN THE COLOR. HERS WERE SORROWFUL TOO. THEY SPOKE OF LOSS AND PAIN, FEAR OF THE FUTURE. AND YET, SO MUCH STRENGTH. THAT IS WHAT MADE THEM BEAUTIFUL. YOURS SHARE THAT QUALITY."

Holland found herself quiet at that. She felt questions building up in her chest again. Orobas seemed to ignite the curiosity she had thought she buried when she left the Imperium. When she came to the east, she was an Immortal no longer and that was the end of it. She had so much to do penance for that digging further was more than she could stand. The part of her that the Oameni had initially and unintentionally sparked, the part filled with a burning desire to understand things like family and companionship, was back. Orobas was a connection to not only her beginnings, but what had come before them. "Did you love her?" she asked. His pensive tone had always stayed the same when he spoke of her mother, but demons were not known for emotional inflection. It was what he said that made her wonder.

"I DO NOT POSSESS THE CAPACITY TO LOVE. BUT I APPRECIATED HER, AS ONE APPRECIATES A PRIZED GEMSTONE. I RECOGNIZED RARITY, BEAUTY, AND VALUE," Orobas said. "WHEN YOU WERE PULLED FROM HER ARMS, SHE BEGGED ME TO CARE FOR YOU. I DID NOT UNDERSTAND WHAT SHE MEANT, BUT I ENDEAVORED TO HONOR HER WISH BECAUSE I SAW HER IN YOU. YOU WERE LEFT IN MY CARE FOR TEN YEARS. SUCH A FRAGILE LITTLE THING, BUT QUICK TO LEARN AND GROW AS EVERY IMMORTAL IS. I HAD TO KEEP YOU IN MY WORKSHOP FOR THE FIRST FEW YEARS. YOU COULD NOT BE CONSOLED WHEN I ENDEAVORED TO LEAVE AND YOUR DISCOMFORT OR PUNISHMENT WAS NOT DESIRABLE TO ME."

"I wish I remembered," Holland said softly. Perhaps if she had, her story would have unfolded differently. It was impossible to say, of course. At least she had his understanding now. That was more than she had ever expected to have.

"IT IS NOT UNUSUAL. THE TRANSFORMATION OF THE BOONS IS SO AGONIZING THAT THE MIND BLOCKS IT AND ALL THAT CAME BEFORE IT, EVEN WITH THE SORCERY ALREADY WITHIN EVERY IMMORTAL. OBLIVION IS PREFERABLE TO RETAINING THE MEMORY OF BEING BROKEN IN SUCH A WAY. A MORTAL DOES NOT COME INTO THE WORLD A BLANK SLATE. MUCH MUST BE SCOURED AWAY BEFORE THEY ARE SUITABLE FOR MOLDING TO A PRINCE'S PURPOSE." Orobas rested one of his clawed hands on her back. The touch was cold, but reassuring. It was strange to take comfort in anything a demon did. Maybe she was so relaxed only because she had served them for such a long time. She didn't fear them the way others did, except the Princes of Iron.

"But you didn't see me after."

"IT WAS NOT PERMITTED FOR US TO SPEAK. I READ YOUR RECORDS AND MONITORED YOUR PROGRESS, HOWEVER. WHEN YOU RETURNED INJURED AND PASSED INTO DARKNESS, I REPAIRED YOU. WHEN YOU AWOKE, I WAS ALREADY GONE. I CALCULATED THAT IT WOULD BE FAR MORE BENEFICIAL FOR YOU IF I REMAINED AN UNNOTICED FIGURE. YOU COULD NOT AFFORD THE COMPLICATIONS OF MY DOUBT. I WAS NOT AWARE THEN THAT I HAD INFLICTED MY FLAW ON YOU. FOR A LONG TIME, YOU WERE PRECISELY WHAT SARAQAEL DESIRED. FAULTLESS, COLD, EMPTY. IT WAS..." He paused for a long moment. "...DIFFICULT TO SEE. BUT IT BROUGHT ME CLARITY."

Holland waited. Orobas would speak when he wanted to speak. As he'd pointed out, she had the time to spend listening. Besides, she wanted to hear this.

"IT BECAME APPARENT TO ME THAT I HAD ERRED, NOT IN YOUR CREATION, BUT IN CONSENTING TO SERVE AS THE ARCHITECT OF IMMORTALS. SORINA WAS CORRECT TO HATE ME. I HAD ALLOWED THE CHILD I WAS TO TEND TO BECOME NOTHING MORE THAN A TOOL, AND ONE CONSIDERED ULTIMATELY DISPOSABLE AT THAT. SO I BIDED MY TIME. I BEGAN TO PLOT MY OWN DEPARTURE. SARAQAEL WOULD NOT ALLOW ME, WITH ALL MY KNOWLEDGE OF SORCERY, TO PART FROM HIS SERVICE. THUS, MOVING IN SECRET WAS NECESSARY."

"I assumed he'd cast you out," Holland said. This made more sense, though. Orobas was too valuable to throw away if he had really been the creator of Immortals. She assumed the Divine Prince was still crafting them, but it was entirely possible that the new ones were of lower quality without Orobas's input. She supposed it depended on how perfect Saraqael's mastery of sorcery was.

Orobas shook his head slowly. "FOR A LONG TIME, EVEN AFTER I HAD FINISHED LAYING MY PLANS, I WAS DOUBTFUL I COULD SUCCESSFULLY REMOVE MYSELF FROM ARCEM TENEBRIS. AS YOU ARE WELL AWARE, THE DIVINE PRINCE HAS CONSIDERABLE SWAY OVER EVERY CREATURE, DEMON OR MORTAL, UNDER HIS COMMAND. BUT...THEN YOU WERE CAST INTO THE SEA. THE BONDS THAT HELD ME IN MY PLACE EVAPORATED. SARAQAEL CONFRONTED ME, DEMANDING TO UNDERSTAND WHY HIS IMMORTAL HAD NOT CONFORMED TO HIS WILL THOUGHTLESSLY. I DID NOT PROVIDE HIM WITH A SATISFACTORY ANSWER AND SO HE LEFT ME. WHEN HE DEPARTED, SO DID I. THE CITADEL WAS INSUFFICIENT TO HOLD ME."

"And then you found what was left of the Oameni," Holland said. "But my mother's family were gone. I wiped them out." She could feel the guilt twisting uncomfortably in her stomach. She would never forget cutting down the last of the Vãduva witches or what Adriana had said to her just before she plunged her blade into the witch's heart. Adriana, daughter of Sorina, sister to Ilex. Gods, she'd killed her sister—one she never knew—without batting an eye.

Please, you don't have to do this. You have a choice. You always have a choice.

She hadn't known what that meant at the time. Her response was a simple thrust, piercing bone and flesh until it reached the heart, continuing on until the witch was transfixed. And Ilex hadn't given it a second thought until more than a century had passed. Occasionally, when she still served Saraqael, the memory would appear in a dream, but never with any emotion. Just...curiosity. She hadn't attached any meaning to the idea of choice until her broken body was dragged out of the cold, black sea in a fisherman's net. That had been her introduction to choice: stay or go. Not that it was really much of a choice.

"I DID, THOUGH THEY HAD TAKEN A DIFFERENT NAME AS THEY MINGLED WITH THE REMNANTS OF THE IGIGI AND THE RELICTA. NĂLUCI WAS MORE FITTING FOR A GHOST OF A PEOPLE. I SHROUDED MYSELF IN THE MERE AND THEY FOUND BENEFIT TO MY PRESENCE. BEFORE LONG, I WAS NO LONGER THE ARCHITECT. I WAS THE HORNED KING OF THE MERE, SPIRIT OF PROTECTION. THIS WAS...SUITABLE, THOUGH NOT THE PURPOSE I REQUIRED. I FOUND THAT YEARS LATER, WHEN YOU SPOKE TO ME NOT SO LONG AGO."

Holland looked over at him, searching those obsidian eyes for any hint of an expression, but it was like searching for emotion in the night sky. He would always be a demon. While some of his kind could imitate humans with unnerving accuracy, it was always a mimicry. Some of them felt pain, some of them felt anger, some of them felt pride, but in the end, theirs were only shadows of the real thing and dark ones at that. She had been much the same way for most of her life, her heart nothing more than void. Feeling had just crept in, like water through hairline fractures in stone.

Part of her wondered if the same thing had been happening to Orobas over the course of centuries. It would have explained a great deal of his behavior.

"You're doing this for me?" she asked. Her voice sounded unsteady. It was hard to believe.

Orobas was silent for a long moment, clearly measuring the question and engaging in a certain level of introspection. He was examining his own motives at length. A mind like his could perform complicated calculations in an instant, but he was taking his time. She would never understand what happened behind those black eyes and absent features, but it was something considerable. Finally, he cocked his head at her. "CORRECT."

Holland leaned into the demon's side, resting her forehead against the shaggy moss that covered his dull steel hide. Her eyes were starting to ache just a little bit. "Thank you," she said quietly. No one who had ever known her old self had ever done anything like this before. Demons were not creatures prone to whims, Orobas even less so. If he was following her, he had carefully weighed and measured every outcome he perceived to be probable and likely many that weren't. In the end, he'd still found it worthwhile. She could feel a faint hum in his body from the sorcery that kept him alive, but there was no smell of ozone and chemicals. Just that earthy scent of damp dirt and the plants of the Mere.

"WILL YOU TELL ME WHAT IS TROUBLING YOU?"

"I love someone," Holland said quietly. "And I can't tell her. But the hardest part is watching someone break her heart and knowing I can't do anything about it."

"WOULD YOU BREAK HER HEART, WERE SHE TO GIVE YOU THE OPPORTUNITY?"

"I'd rather give myself to Saraqael again." The words came out thick, but she meant them. "I know you don't feel, and I shouldn't either, but I do. All I want is to see her happy."

"PAST EXPERIENCE HAS DEMONSTRATED THAT YOU KEEPING YOUR PEACE HAS NOT ACHIEVED THE DESIRED GOAL. REPETITION OF THE EXACT SAME BEHAVIOR WITH THE EXPECTATION OF DIFFERENT RESULTS IS A MARK OF THE FOOLISH OR THE INSANE. AND AS IS OBVIOUS, THERE IS ONLY ONE ALTERNATIVE. PERHAPS YOUR AFFECTION IS UNREQUITED, PERHAPS IT IS NOT. EVEN IF IT IS NOT RECIPROCATED, YOU OFFER HER REASSURANCE THAT THERE IS A PERSON IN THE WORLD WHO WISHES TO MAKE HER HAPPY."

"I'm very good at being foolish," Holland muttered.

"YOU WERE NOT TRAINED TO FIGHT WITH RAW MUSCLE. YOU USED TECHNIQUE, YOU MADE YOUR MOVEMENTS EFFICIENT BY FOLLOWING THE FLOW, NOT TRYING TO STEM THE TIDE. WHEN A FOE CAME AT YOU IN HEAVY ARMOR, YOU DID NOT BATTER HIM INTO SUBMISSION. YOU CALCULATED, YOU CONSIDERED, YOU MODIFIED YOUR STRATEGY WHEN IT PROVED UNEQUAL TO THE TASK. LIFE IS STRIFE. WHY SHOULD AN AFFAIR OF THE HEART BE TREATED ANY DIFFERENTLY?" Orobas's clawed hand had curled delicately around her shoulder, holding her to his chest. She could feel his voice resonating, a faint vibration against her forehead. "TORMENTING YOURSELF SERVES NO PURPOSE. WHAT DID SARAQAEL TEACH YOU OF THINGS WHICH SERVE NO PURPOSE?"

"Things without purpose are without value, and things without value are not to be tolerated," Holland said, echoing the many voices of those who had trained her.

"YOU KEEP CLOSE THE LESSONS OF YOUR PAST LIFE THAT ALLOW YOU TO SURVIVE. NOW UTILIZE THEM, SO THAT YOU MAY THRIVE."

"I'll think about it," Holland said quietly.

"THAT IS ALL IT IS MY PLACE TO REQUEST," Orobas said. He was silent for a moment. "WE WILL NOW SPEAK OF OTHER THINGS, IF YOU ARE AMENABLE."

The penitent nodded a little bit, but she didn't pull away from his chest. She was too tired and it was an oddly comfortable position. "Something happened?"

"A MURDER IN THE WOODS," Orobas said thoughtfully. "A SERVANT CUT DOWN BY A SKILLED SWORDSMAN, NOT THAT MUCH SKILL WAS REQUIRED TO DISPATCH A FLEEING GIRL. I BURIED HER BODY. I DO NOT HAVE THE RESOURCES TO ASCERTAIN HER IDENTITY, AS I CANNOT ENTER TAMARIS WITHOUT GENERATING UPSET AND DRAWING ATTENTION."

"I might know who," Holland said. "Lieren lost a spy."

Orobas nodded. "CONSISTENT WITH MY THEORY REGARDING THE MOTIVATIONS OF THE ACT. SHE KNEW SOMETHING THAT THE KILLER COULD NOT AFFORD ANYONE ELSE TO DISCOVER."

"She heard Laenus speaking to someone she couldn't see. The way Lieren spoke, it sounded like a remote conversation. I suggested that it might be a loquentes lapis. They were speaking with an eastern tongue, so it must have been a local. If it was an Imperial, there would be no reason for them to restrict themselves to a language easily understood by an eavesdropper."

"THEN YOU HAVE MORE TO BEWARE THAN I ANTICIPATED."

Holland sighed. "It sounds like everyone is waiting for a civil war to break out, which is the last thing we need. Fionn has certainly given Seva plenty of reason to fight one."

"IT IS IMPERATIVE THAT YSSA REMAIN WHOLE. IT IS ENTIRELY POSSIBLE THAT MAINTAINING THE PEACE WILL REQUIRE UNSAVORY ACTION. KNIVES IN THE DARK. IT IS A MATTER OF NECESSITY, NOT PRINCIPLE."

"I can't turn into them," Holland said. "Not again."

She expected some kind of scolding or lecture on carrying out duty without qualms. Instead, Orobas nodded slightly. "IT IS DIFFICULT TO PRESERVE THE BODY WITHOUT POISONING THE SOUL." He paused. "I AM TOLD THAT THE MAGES OF THE EAST HAVE A SAYING: ALL POWER COMES WITH A PRICE. THE ONLY DIFFERENCE AMONG THEM IS WHO THEY DECIDE SHOULD PAY IT. YOU ARE NOT A MAGE, BUT THAT DOES NOT FREE YOU FROM THAT PRICE. IF YOU DO NOT WISH YSSA TO PAY IT OR YOUR COMPANIONS TO PAY IT, THEN YOU MUST BE WILLING TO SHOULDER THE COST. THESE DARK THINGS MUST BE DONE AND THEY WILL BE DONE, WITH YOU OR WITHOUT YOU. PERHAPS YOUR PURPOSE IS TO KEEP THOSE WHO ACT FROM EXCEEDING THE LIMIT. BUT THAT REQUIRES KNOWLEDGE, AND KNOWLEDGE IS A CONSEQUENCE OF ITS OWN."

From experience, she knew that Orobas was very right. Knowledge could be punishment in its own right, one that she was intimately familiar with. She had done many, many things that she would have rather forgotten. "We'll see." She sighed before pulling away. "Thank you for talking to me, Orobas."

"I WILL BE HERE IN THESE WOODS IF YOU REQUIRE ME. I FIND MYSELF DRAWN TO THE EXAMINATION OF THESE REMNANTS FROM THE REVEALING, SO IT IS QUITE PROBABLE THAT I WILL SPEND MUCH TIME IN THIS CLEARING. AND WHEN THE ARMIES BEGIN TO MOVE, I WILL JOIN YOU."

"We're a ways from that," Holland murmured. "We have to equip and prepare. Not to mention a potential civil war. Hopefully, this gala scheme works and we find whoever had the other ring. I might pry Laenus's off his cold dead body too, just to be certain."

"LET HIM MAKE THE FIRST ERROR," Orobas said. "IF HE ATTACKS YOU, YOU ARE WELL WITHIN YOUR RIGHTS TO KILL HIM. EVEN THE KING WILL BE FORCED BITE HIS TONGUE IN THE NAME OF JUSTICE. IT WILL MERELY REQUIRE PATIENCE. YOU ARE A THREAT LAENUS CANNOT LONG IGNORE. HE WILL BE FORCED TO MOVE AGAINST YOU."

Holland smiled faintly, though it was a humorless expression. "He never was one for patience." She hesitated. "He'll go for chinks in my armor. He knows he won't be able to earn my trust twice. That puts my friends at risk."

"I HAVE SEEN YOUR FRIENDS. RISK SEEMS TO BE THEIR IDEAL PASTIME. EVERY THREAT TO THEM IS ANOTHER SHOVEL OF EARTH OUT OF HIS GRAVE." If he hadn't been a demon, he might have sounded amused. "BE CAREFUL. BRASHNESS HAS WON MANY A BATTLE AND LOST MANY A WAR."

"Understood," Holland said. "I have a question for you."

"I MAY HAVE AN ANSWER."

"Will you keep the fragment of Deus for me?" Holland asked softly. "Laenus is hunting for it. If it stays in Tamaris, he will find it."

Orobas nodded. "I WILL STUDY IT AND SEE WHAT CAN BE GLEANED OF ITS NATURE. WE KNOW THAT THE THRONE IS TIED TO DEUS SOMEHOW. IF LAENUS WISHES IT, HE WILL HAVE ME TO CONTEND WITH."

There was no doubt in her mind that Orobas was more than capable of dispatching Laenus and any group of men he brought with him. The Horned King was an ancient and powerful sorcerer. Armor and swords were no protection against the pain he was capable of inflicting. "Let me know what you find," Holland said. It was strange to trust a demon and perhaps foolish, but she had no alternatives.

"HE WILL STILL BE ABLE TO SPEAK TO YOU AND SEND VISIONS," Orobas warned her. "YOU ARE KNOWN TO HIM NOW."

She shrugged. "I can live with nightmares."

The demon inclined his head to her. "VERY WELL. AND THE OTHER MATTER, YOU WILL CONSIDER?"

Holland felt her heart twist painfully. "That's the best I can do." She wasn't certain she would ever have the nerve to do what Orobas was suggesting. The idea of losing Seva completely was terrifying, more terrifying than leaving the Imperium or any battle she'd ever been in.

"UNDERSTOOD," Orobas said as he rose from his crouched position, removing his clawed hand from her shoulder. "RETURN TO TAMARIS. I WILL...NOTE YOUR ABSENCE."

It was the closest he could ever really come to saying he missed her when she wasn't around. Holland smiled a little bit. "I'm glad you're here, Orobas." She went and recovered the piece of Deus from her saddlebags. He took it delicately, hand engulfing the shard of obsidian. No doubt he felt the Calling as well, but Deus did not have nearly as much leverage over demons as he did over mortals. Orobas didn't really desire anything, so there was little to tempt him with. "Be careful with it."

"I WILL." The demon focused his obsidian eyes on her. "WATCH ALL AROUND YOU AND TRUST YOUR INSTINCTS, DAUGHTER OF THE VOID. YOUR ENEMIES IN YSSA ARE MORE POWERFUL THAN YOU KNOW."

It wasn't until Holland was halfway back that she remembered that Orobas had once referred to himself as void.