Page 38 of As Above, So Below

With a bulbous, downturned nose, paper-thin lips, and a square jaw, her skin almost appears to drape over her bones, sagging in places it shouldn’t.

“Escape the hells?” she repeats the words, her sparsely haired brows furrowing. She points a bony finger at me, keeping her eyes on Ylara. “Her, yes.” Her finger swings to Ylara. “You, not while the veil remains intact. Things must change for you to leave, dark one. You would be both a blessing and a curse upon the living realm.”

Ylara glances over her shoulder at me and our eyes meet. A small twinge of sadness shoots through me. We won’t be escaping together after all. The hag follows her gaze again.

“This one, this one, this one will change the realms,” she says eagerly, “if she ever frees herself of the god of death.”

“How do you know all this?” I ask, suspicion snaking through me.

Her face becomes stern. “Worry not about how I know what I know. Worry about what I know and what you’ll give to learn it.”

“I require a contract, signed for this barter,” I say with more confidence than I possess. “Give me all the information you have that will aid me in my escape from the hells, and I’ll give you this ancient soul.”

Withdrawing the soul crystal from the pouch looped on the belt of my robes, the yellow of the hag’s eyes grows thin, swallowed by the black of her pupils. In an instant the pupils retract, yellow snapping back into existence.

“Not enough.” She shakes her head.

Greedy thing.

I heave a sigh.

“The soulandfive minutes in Netharis’ private library to chooseonetitle for keeping,” I amend the offer reluctantly.

“Any title?”

“Any title.”

A smile tilts the corners of her mouth. “Does Netharis know you’re here?”

Icy indignation flows through me and I scowl. “If you believe you can barter a better deal with him, you’re welcome to try. But I assure you, he will not offer you a single second within his library.”

The smile fades from her face as she tears her eyes from the crystal to me. “Prudent of you,” she purrs in amused delight. “Netharis is right to keep a tight leash on you.”

Sunshine steps forward, reaching, and I lean away from her. She takes a tendril of my hair between her fingers. “I’ll sign your contract, demon, but I want this too.”

“My hair?”

“Not all, a small lock,” she smiles, “I want a keepsake.”

Glamouring spells require hair.

“If you seek to walk around wearing my face, you’ll find you’re not as welcome as you’d think,” I reply with a scoff.

“Perhaps,” she smirks. “Will you give it to me?”

Pursing my lips, I nod. If she wants to take on my face for a few hours, so be it.

With a deft hand, she whips a dagger from her belt and slices through a small section of my hair, pinching it between her crooked fingers. The hair shines near white under the magelight, abright contrast against the blackened skin of her fingers. She ties it to the end of her belt, securing it beside a few dangling metal and stone charms and dried chicken feet.

A small gesture with my left hand produces a billow of darkness between us, leaving a contract in its wake. I’d drafted the contract earlier, before our descent; all it now requires is her signature in blood.

As she scans over the parchment, her head bobs in agreement.

“What kind of contract is this?” she asks, her face contorting with disgust. “Not a single instance of questionable wording. No hidden terms, no convoluted conditions.” She peers over the contract to give me a pointed look. “You’ve never offered a contract before, have you?”

Is it that obvious?

“I’ve no interest in gaining anything more than what I seek,” I answer tersely.