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119. Sanctum XLIV (First Draft)
🕑 Added 2021-12-31 23:42:00 +0000 UTC“Dammit” Jorra whispered.
We’d spent the better part of an hour frantically searching the area. My chest hurt, my accumulated wounds going untreated as Maya helped us search. There was no trace of a return portal, visible or otherwise. Though he was the last person I wanted to talk to, I eventually summoned Vogrin for confirmation.
The way Vogrin went about the work was a stark contrast from his usual behavior. In the time that I’d known him, the demon was unflinchingly grotesque. Staring, probing uncomfortable weakness, and a propensity to gloat. Had he acted that way, I probably couldn’t have stopped myself from doing something drastic.
But Vogrin didn’t say a word, gloating or otherwise. Instead, he seemed withdrawn. Almost in shock.
He reported back to me in a quiet tone. “There was a divine portal here. Likely Infaris, though to tell the truth, I do not have the capability of telling divine energy apart. The only magical signatures in the area apart from my own—or traces of magic—comes from the three of you.”
Grief rolled over me in a slow wave. I tried to keep my voice steady. “So it’s definitive. Bell didn’t make it through.”
Vogrin sighed. “With certainty. Even if she’d maintained a void-state and departed, and I cannot imagine why that would be the case, there would have been some trace of her.”
I put a hand to my forehead. There was a litany of things I wanted to say to Vogrin, but none of them were helpful, none of them productive. I waved him away, trying desperately to cling to the small modicum of rationality I had left. “I need to think.”
“Master.”
The hatred I’d been trying so desperately to hold back flared in my gut. I fixed Vogrin with a level stare, and asked, my voice as smooth and transparent as glass. “Can it wait?”
Vogrin seemed to grow smaller. “It must be said.”
“Then do so and be done with it,” I snapped.
“Ozra has retreated. He is still on this plane, though I suspect he has retreated to gather forces to retaliate.”
“Is that all?” I asked. It sounded like someone else speaking.
“You spoke of how powerful she was. I took your evaluation as hyperbole.” Vogrin deflated further. “Despite the power of her scent, I assumed she was only human. And, historically, even the strongest human is fodder compared to an arch-fiend.”
I stared at him.
Vogrin continued. “I am in an unenviable position. My loyalty to the Arch-Fiend supersedes my contractual obligations. I saw what I perceived to be an opportunity to seize a desirable boon to my legion and acted on it.
“Yes. You did.”
His next words surprised me. “I was wrong. Had I listened, truly listened, I might have realized that my competing interests were not actually in conflict. Forcing the conflict helped neither you, nor Ozra.”
“And if your apology was worth even a fraction of my friend’s life, perhaps I would care to listen to what you have to say. But it isn’t, and I don’t.”
“I would not blame you if you decided to relinquish the contract.”
I nearly did. It would have been easy. To strip him of his contract and use demon-fire to banish him below. The anger had built to a degree that was almost unsustainable. It was something the old me would have done.
But no. I grabbed his tattered lapels and pulled him closer. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you. The chance to run away, to not be held responsible for the things you’ve done. Ozra hated you so much he allowed you to be bound to me at no cost, like a lesser imp.”
“You paid dearly.”
I laughed. “A payment rendered to Ozra, not you. You gained nothing.”
Vogrin’s growl served as confirmation.
“Maybe think about that. Consider exactly how much your life was worth to the arch-fiend, before I saved you.”
“I—“ Before he could finish, I cancelled his summons, withdrawing him into the amulet. The worst had already happened. I didn’t trust myself to say anything more. And Vogrin was, perhaps, even more useful to me now than before his transgression. He would work harder, try to prove himself. I could use that. It was a pittance in comparison to what it was being traded for, but it was better than nothing.
Jorra grabbed my arm. “We need to go back for her. Cairn, we have to go now.” There was desperation in his eyes, one I recognized all too well. The desire to set things right, a willingness to do almost anything to fix that which was broken.
I shook my head, struggling to speak. “We barely lived when we caught Thoth by surprise. Going after her again—when she’s ready, when she has a hostage? That will get us killed, Jorra. Warning Elder Morthus and getting back to the heart is our only course now.”
Jorra reeled back. His face screwed up in a mix of agony and rage, and for a moment, I thought he might hit me. Maya stepped in and hugged him.
I could barely hear her as she spoke into his shoulder. “There’s two warring legions involved, little brother. This will only escalate.”
“But…” Jorra stammered.
“I know you cared for her. So did I. But we have to warn them. We’re the only ones who know what is coming.”
“And if anyone is capable of getting away and following us on her own, it’s Bell.” I added, trying to give him some modicum of hope.
Maya shot me a dark look, then hesitated, adding. “Bell is fast. She can make herself almost invisible. It’s possible.”
Jorra broke down into a mess of sobs. “It’s my fault. I should have kept a better eye on her. She was the youngest. It’s my fault.”
I listened, my heart-wrenching in my chest, as Maya insisted that it was not Jorra’s fault. That it all happened too fast, that there was only so much one person could do. That people were lost in the Sanctum every day even in the best of circumstances. That there was nothing he could have done.
Of course it wasn’t on him. I knew all too well exactly whose fault it was.
I closed my eyes and listened to the sounds of the Sanctum. The wind fluttering through the tropical tree leaves, the creaking of the porous ground beneath my feet. I remained that way until Maya sent Jorra off for supplies, preparing myself for a conversation I was in no way ready to have.
Once we were alone, I braced myself. Maya finally asked the question I’d been dreading.
“Why haven’t you reset?”
The question pierced me as sure as any sword. I tried to look at her and found I couldn’t meet her eyes. “You saw it for yourself, Maya. My ability is compromised.”
“Because of what you saw in the void.“
I turned away from her, my mouth twisted into a snarl. “It’s a trap. There’s no winning. We only made it so far this time because at the beginning of this particular reset, I got absurdly, astronomically lucky. If I die, I almost certainly lose one of you, possibly all. All because that mutt wants to make a point.
“You can beat him. I know you. I believe in you,” Maya whispered.
“And do what, exactly?” I asked, my voice bitter. “Say we go back—and somehow, defying literal divine intervention, I manage to save you all. We still have to deal with Thoth. The only way she’s willing to deal, to call off this game of hers, is under two conditions: My death or catching her unaware while she’s repairing the leyline. I can’t fucking die, so it’ll have to be the second. So then it comes down to me, somehow managing to convince Ozra—a demonic arch-fiend, with all the power and pride that entails—that Thoth is not only far stronger than his pride will allow him to believe, but also that she has an alliance with the Decarabia—which as far as I know, is unprecedented.”
“You could do it,” Maya insisted.
“Maybe,” I countered, “But not without trial and error. Not without things going wrong at least once and sending me back here, to this nigh unwinnable scenario, and again—I lose one of you.” I pointed to the ground behind her. The very spot I’d watched her die, over and over again, overtaken by a poison I couldn’t heal.
Maya grabbed me by the shoulders, her eyes opening in sudden realization. “You keep saying one of us, as if it could be anyone. But like you said, I saw it for myself. Yes, sometimes it was Jorra, or Bell, or all three of us. But it was almost always me.”
“What of it?” When I tried to brush her off me, her grip only tightened.
“You cannot trade another’s life for mine, Cairn.” Maya’s voice was hard. “And this is bigger than any single person. Isn’t that exactly what got you into trouble the first time? Throwing everything else away for one person?” Her words stung worse than any fire, burned deeper than any sword.
“Just…” My voice broke. “Just give me time. Please. Let me think. Bell might still be alive.”
“Thoth will never forgive you for what just happened.”
I shook my head. “She was never going to let it go anyway. Please. You think as long as she’s been doing this, she was going to just let me live? After all this time? All that was on the table was a temporary respite. There was never going to be peace.”
“Is it not worth a try? If it buys you time?” Maya released me, her sympathy turning to something closer to horror.
Not if it kills you.
Maya was right. I knew it and so did she. But the current circumstances might present an opportunity. Thoth was beyond angry, unbalanced. If I could find a way to leverage her rage, it might present another opportunity. But what?
Maya sobbed. “I cannot be the reason other people die, simply because you love me.”
Sweat poured down my brow as I desperately thought, and planned, and tried to look at the current circumstances from every angle. Talking to Thoth was out. If I got close, I had little doubt she’d simply murder me on the spot. Was there anyone else who could help? Any other way to defuse this?
The solution is simple enough. Kill him. Bring his head to the heart. Until then, you will be trapped.
A seed of an idea began to sprout into something bigger, something more substantial. But I would need everyone. And I couldn’t tell them why.
“You’re right,” I said finally. Maya stepped back in surprise.
“So, what does that mean for us? For this.”
“The girl who died… she asked me to not save her. The way she said it makes me think I wouldn’t be able to. And then implied she wouldn’t be able to save me again, despite likely knowing what I can do.”
“The magic Thoth cast on her dagger,” Maya realized.
“That spell, I’ve seen it before. That girl, I’m not sure what she is, but I think she’s like Thoth and me, an outsider. And she shielded me from it for a reason. Maybe she’s wrong, but if she isn't, I need to make the most of this first.” I spoke again before Maya could. “And if Bell is gone, we owe it to her to try everything we can to make the most of the time she gave us. That’s what you’re asking me to do, isn’t it? Not to prioritize others over you? That works both ways, Maya. Just because you’ve decided to stay in the Sanctum and not follow me doesn’t make you less of a person. You don’t get to be a martyr.”
Maya bit her lip. “… You really have a plan?”
“Yes.” It wasn’t much of one yet. I’d need to flesh it out, smooth out any holes. But it was there, and what was there was solid.
Maya embraced me. “I’ll trust you. It’s just hard.”
After a moment’s hesitation, I held her back. As much as I wanted to reassure her, to tell her everything would be okay, I knew it would be a lie.
If what I had in mind worked, it would solve the problem of the Sanctum being held hostage with minimal bloodshed. But that didn’t change the fact that Maya would hate me for it. They all would.
