Page 81 of Brimstone

“See. You’re so worried about saving the day right now that you can’t even be bothered to look at me, can you?”

On the other side of the room, Carrion yelped and jumped away from the wall, batting away an invisible assailant.

I took out the little wooden box and set it down on the bench. My good hand shook as I tried to slide back the lid.

“Always the same. Always a coward. Always too afraid to acknowledge the consequences of his actions,” the female snapped.

The little scorpion inside the box was furious. It was the last remnant of Joshin’s form. The demon had been right—it would take lifetimes to replicate itself and return to full size. It stabbed at me, trying to sting my fingers, but I was done being stung by this motherfucker. I grabbed it by the tail and took it out of the box.

“Look at me, Fisher,” the female said.

I held the scorpion up, trying and failing to focus on it. “Hold up your end of the deal, Joshin. If you don’t, I’ll smear you across the fucking wall.”

“Fisher,lookat me.”

The scorpion squirmed, trying to escape, but I wasn’t letting it out of my sight. It was growing harder to open my eyes every time I blinked. I held the scorpion against the side of the crucible, pressing its stinger against the lip of the metal. At first nothing happened.

Understandably, the demon was livid. We’d burned it to a crisp back in the bell tower. Its true form had died screaming, and this little piece of the demon had felt it all. It didn’t want to oblige me by producing some of its venom . . . but it would die for good if it didn’t.

Petulantly, the scorpion struck the side of the crucible at last, and a thin stream of clear liquid beaded and rolled down into the blood and salt.

As soon as the task was done, I shoved the scorpion back into the box, careful not to let it escape. Back into my pocket it went.

“Kingfisher,lookat what you did to me!”

I spun without thinking. Renfis’s sister stood there, the ends of her lovely long hair frazzled and black. Her once beautiful face was blistered and raw, skin slick like melted candle wax. Her left eye was missing. Her lips were fused together on the left side of her face. She was mostly naked, but there were scraps of scorched leather stuck to the exposed bones of her rib cage. Tears ran from her right eye, coursing down her ruined cheek.

“The wages of your pride, Fisher,” she said out of the corner of her mouth. “What do you think? Am I still beautiful?”

“Always,” I whispered.

“Do you know what it feels like to be burned alive?” she seethed.

Sadly, I nodded. “I do, Merelle. And I’m sorry.”

I knew Merelle didn’t blame me for her death. She would have had every right to, but she hadn’t. She had chosen to bind her soul with my blade, to remain a part of the Lupo Proelia and stay close to those she loved. It hadn’t been my choice. I would have preferred her to move on to the shores of the afterlife, to find her peace, but Merelle had always been a strong-willed female, even in death. This horror show was a manifestation of my own guilt and nothing more . . . but it shattered my heart into pieces.

I stepped around the charred corpse of my friend and placed my hands over the crucible, closing my eyes.

Venom laced with magic required an anti-venom laced with the same. Like for like. An exchange of power greater than the original to cancel it out. I threaded my shadows into the metal cup, sending them into the blood, salt, and venom, infusing the concoction with my power.

I felt it take hold.

“It’s pointless, trying to wring a drop of remorse out of him, child,” my mother said, looking back over her shoulder at Merelle. “He’s incapable of real emotion. Aren’t you?”

This wasn’t going to be pleasant, but itwouldwork. I collected the crucible and tipped its contents into two dusty cups.

“That’s what you’re afraid of, isn’t it?” my mother spat. “That you’ll have to truly feel the weight of everything you’ve done if you really want to loveher. The hate. The shame. The horror.”

She didn’t say Saeris’s name. Didn’t need to. The female eating the apple on the bench was me. I knew exactly who she was talking about.

I faltered, suddenly unable to lift my own feet. “IknowI’ll have to do that,” I muttered. “But I’m not afraid. She’s worth it.”

I walked through the image of my mother, leaving her behind as I crossed the room.

“Stop! No! Don’t! She’s sick! Please! Please, please, please, don’t take it. I can’t help her without it. I’ll do anything, please, I promise—” Carrion’s eyes went wide when I put my hand on his shoulder. His pupils refocused, whatever he had been seeing vanishing as he realized I was standing in front of him.

“You’ve done it?” he panted.