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“That’s the normal response when someone saves you.”

She quirked an amused brow. “To be saved implies I was in danger. All you did was get in the way.”

Shadows coiled around Dryston. “That creature would have crushed you.”

“Or I was about to crush that creature.” She stalked forward, coming close to him. Her frame was small compared to his looming figure, but her attitude more than made up for it, her presence makingDryston’s wings involuntarily tuck in a fraction. Enid coughed to hide the surprised gasp that tried to escape her.

Onora gave him a scathing look from head to toe, unimpressed. “If you ever bring dishonor to me again by interfering like that, I will slice you from chin to navel and leave your entrails for the birds.”

Enid took a step back as the two engaged in a battle of wills, neither backing down, neither looking away. Then Onora scoffed, the derisive sound making Dryston’s jaw clench, and she walked into the temple.

“Why is she here?” Dryston grumbled to no one in particular.

Taking a deep breath, Enid followed Onora in, patting Dryston on the shoulder as she did. The atrium was dim and cool, scented smoke curling around her. She rubbed clammy hands on her pants, flexing her fingers to release some of the nervous energy churning inside her.

She wandered into the next room. Darkness consumed it except for the candles around the perimeter. Cool air slid over her skin and she realized this was part of the cave. The outside had been built into the side of the mountain.

Acolytes lounged on large floor cushions. Pillows and blankets covered their mostly bare bodies. Many lay asleep on the cushions,curled up next to each other, while others entwined in intimate embraces, kissing and caressing.

Growing up in the Darkened City, Enid had seen many similar scenes once she’d come of age. Still, her presence felt out of place. Turning to leave, she startled as Hevena came face to face with her. Enid hadn’t realized before exactly how tall the willowy woman was. Humans were generally shorter than demons, and Enid was on the taller side. But Hevena stood only a few inches shorter than her. Hevena stared at her with steady, unblinking blue eyes and Enid shifted on her feet.

“Lady Enid,” she said in a hushed tone. “Onora has already headed into the training barracks. Please follow me.”

Enid fell into line behind the witch, her own mind echoing Dryston’s question. Why was Onora here?

The cool, dark halls gave way to the outside, a sunlit hall leading them to a large open area, the walls cold stone but with an opening at the top to let light in. Onora sat cross-legged in the middle of the room, her eyes only flickering to them for a moment before landing on Dryston, then looking away so dismissively that Dryston let out a small growl of indignation.

“What’s the human doing here?” Dryston asked, his voice loud enough for Onora to hear, even though she didn’t deign to look in their direction.

Enid rubbed her temples. When Dryston got in the mood to aggravate, he could be relentless. And he hated being dismissed, ignored, underestimated.

“Onora has volunteered as a conduit,” Hevena replied calmly. “She will be able to draw the magic to and through her, making it easier for us to draw from her and amplify our spells.”

Enid stepped forward to follow Hevena as she beckoned her forward. She hated that she had a crowd watching, but she would try to block it out.

“Today we’ll focus on the basics,” Hevena said, taking a necklace out of the pouch around her waist. She handed it to Enid, and she turned it over in her hand. It was a black leather strand with a dark black horn attached. She ran her thumb over its surface, noting the ridges and imperfections. It felt like… Her eyes darted up to Hevena. “Yes, Lady Enid, it’s a demon horn. Which is part of why we needed a female demon. The horns are different from male to female, and the magic would know.”

Enid felt nauseous, and the shadows licked around her, twining around the horn. Dryston’s powers. He wanted to investigate as much as she did.

Demons shed their first set of horns when they went through puberty, and then never again. There had been rumors of old that witches and elves would rob graves to take the horns of demons, potent in dark magic, still retaining some of the powers of that demon in the marrow, in order to cast specific spells. A sacrilege of the greatest disrespect to demons. When a horn was broken off during an accident or fight, it was burnt to keep anyone from getting a hold of it. If a random one was found on a battlefield, it was burnt along with the others.

“Where did you get this?” Enid asked, her voice low and dangerous.

Hevena held up her hand, graceful, but bracing. “Do not fear. We have not desecrated the grave of a demon. It is customary, is it not, for demons to put their early horns in the hilt of their sword?”

Enid nodded, taking a closer look at the horn in her hand. It was larger than she’d expect a junior shed horn to be, but it could still be.

“It is the horn of the female demon, taken from the hilt of her sword. In order to get as close to the spell as possible, I want you to focus on drawing power from the horn and harnessing it.”

Enid raised a brow. “I’m not a sink or conduit. I can’t draw power from anything but myself.”

Hevena took her hand, pulling her to sit near Onora. Other witches entered, all making a circle, another making Onora take Enid’s other hand. Neither acknowledged the awkwardness of it. “If we create a circle, you can.”

Enid had never heard of this before. She knew sinks could draw power from sources like her, and conduits could gather the spare energy that came off her, but this?

Hevena’s hands entwined with hers, the horn pressing into their palms. Something in it pulsed at the contact of magic.

“We’ll cast a spell,” Hevena said, “that taps your magic into ours briefly. It works with demons because your magic ties into other demons in a colony. We find the point within you that lets us tap in, and if you can keep it open, we can draw the power from the horn, pass it along and press it back into you.”