Page 83 of A Tower of Half-Truths

Mavery grit her teeth as she channeled everything she could into the ward. She spared a glance at Alain. His teeth were also bared, his forehead glistened with sweat, his arms trembled as he struggled to keep them raised.

She looked forward as the beast charged the ward for a third time. She braced herself for the inevitable impact.

The force of the demon’s body shattered the ward. The blue aura dissolved into mist.

With nothing left in its way, the demon focused all of its ire on Alain. It once again raised its paw, black claws bared and gleaming.

“No!” Mavery screamed.

For a split second, her very blood was on fire.

As arcana blazed through her, she raised her arm, pointed her fingers at the demon.

A bolt of white-hot magic escaped her fingertips, shot through the room, grazed the beast’s shoulder.

Apart from a clump of singed hair, her magic surge didn’t seem to leave any lasting damage, but it was enough to distract the demon.

It turned its attention away from Alain—and onto her.

The demon looked at her like a predator sizing up its next meal.

She took that brief pause as her opportunity to drop her pack and sprint toward the stairwell. Behind her, Alain yelled with a guttural ferocity unlike anything she’d ever heard from him.

She glanced over her shoulder to see him swing his staff and hit the demon’s singed shoulder. The beast didn’t so much as look at him as it flexed its wings. One hit Alain squarely in the chest with enough force to send him stumbling backward. He collided into a cabinet with a pain-stricken groan.

Mavery wanted to scream, but she couldn’t afford to do anything but run.

She took the stairs two at a time. When she reached the top and reentered the lower library, her lungs were on fire. Each step brought about a jolt of pain from her bad knee.

Panting, she searched the library for a place to hide.

Distracting the demon had been her only goal, so she hadn’t planned what to do next.

She fled to the farthest corner, then huddled behind a large pile of books.

She flicked her wrist, sending her orb of light to the opposite corner of the room.

While being shrouded in complete darkness would be ideal, she needed at least some light to know when the demon returned.

That quickly proved to be the best course of action. True to its catlike form, the demon was completely silent as it crested the stairs.

It paused. Its eyes glinted like rubies as they swept the library.

“There is no need to hide, young mage.”

Mavery blinked. Had the demon just…spoken to her?

No, she was hearing things. Exhaustion and overexposure to magic had finally driven her mad.

The demon crossed the room at a leisurely pace.

“Fear not, for I will not harm you. You are Senova—same as Master Aganast.”

The voice was a gentle purr, not the bone-chilling growl from before.

This had to be a demonic trick, just like in the old folktales. She clenched her fists, dug her nails into her palms—a bit of pain to keep her wits sharp. She doubted she had anything in common with a Necromancer and demon sympathizer.

The beast stepped closer. It had found her hiding spot, but it hadn’t charged after her. In fact, it could have easily overtaken her on the stairs, but it had allowed her a head start.

Slowly, she turned and met the demon’s gaze. Its red eyes were still unsettling, but gone was the fierceness she’d seen downstairs. The beast cocked its head as it eyed her with the curiosity of a housecat, despite being at least ten times the size of one.

“You can Sense arcana, can you not?”

Never once did the demon’s jaws move. She heard its voice only in her mind. And she once again smelled that strange arcana: burnt wood and petrichor, the aftermath of fire and rain. It was now stronger, more concentrated, than the aroma emanating from the discarded books.

The demon took another step, then stopped. It was close enough that Mavery could reach out and touch it. She should have been trembling in fear, watching her life flash before her eyes. And yet…

“Aganast was a Senser, too?” Mavery whispered.

The demon inclined its head. “Senser, Senova… Call it whatever you prefer, for they are one and the same.”

She remembered something she’d discovered in the University’s library weeks ago: one scholar’s claim that Sensers were possessed by demons. She’d dismissed it outright, but what if there’d been a modicum of truth to it?

“You mean Sensers are…connected to dem—?”

“NO!”

The demon roared aloud at the same time its voice pealed inside her mind. She flinched, clutching her temples.

“MY KIND ARE NOT DEMONS. WE ARE—”

An explosion resonated through the room. Mavery flinched again and covered her ears. Her mind flooded with memories of a frigid night, her stomach clenched from a phantom pain.

She had enough presence of mind to watch the creature turn on the spot as it roared at the intrusion.

Another shot fired. Then a third.

The creature whimpered before collapsing to the floor. It lay on its side, fur saturated with black liquid in the area where Mavery imagined its heart would be. Its body shuddered as it drew a ragged breath, then stilled.

It was dead.

The ringing subsided. Her gaze drifted from the creature’s body to the smoking pistol in Neldren’s right hand.

“Godsdamned beast. Bullets were too good for it.” He looked at Mavery, and his gaze softened. “You all right, Mave? Did it hurt you?”

She regarded the creature’s corpse as its final words echoed in her mind.

My kind are not demons…

“No,” she whispered. “It didn’t.”

“Good. Ellice finally cracked the door. Your wizard’s a little bruised—his ego more than his body, I’ll wager.” Neldren holstered his pistol and offered his hand. “Now, let’s get the fuck out of here before something else tries to kill us.”