Page 132 of Red Demon

“Oh.” She brushed a stray strand of hair from my forehead to look at a bruise, her touch feather-light. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to smile or cry at that gentleness, but I knew I needed every bit of the love radiating from her. “Chaeten-sa can focus on a wound to heal it, with practice. They only keep the scars they choose.”

I couldn’t hide the panic at that, how deep I retreated, breathing fast, thinking of a Chaeten-sa who kept every scar.

With love in her eyes, Mira turned my head to face her, sensing my pain.

“I’m all right, Mira,” I assured her, squeezing her hand. “Starving, though.”

After some food in my stomach and a steaming mug of something herbal, I settled into the cushions. “How’d your release of the SBO code go, Mira?”

Mira straightened her posture in the booth across from me, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Flawless. You will love this, I think.” She dug around on the shelf beside her for her tablet.

I took another sip of bitter tea.

A wry smile twisted her lips. “Getting past the front door was easy enough with the ID card, but the real challenge was the security protocols. The Disciples of Reic are certainly stronger for allowing Chaeten into their network. Apparently, they are the only Underground network that does. They got it done.”

She leaned back in her chair, her eyes gleaming with a spark of mischief before she passed the tablet to me.

The headline on the screen cut through the dim light: QUEEN AZARA RELEASES SBO-PREVENTION MOD. INFECTIONS LINKED TO GHOSTS.

I blinked, looking up at Mira.

“It’s everywhere. Sent to every temple in the Nara, marked mandatory to post. Keep reading.”

I did.

South Bend Outbreak (SBO), the disease that has ransacked the southern islands of Noé and Ment, will no longer be a threat to the citizens of the empire. The disease, which the queen reveals works by attracting the ruren-sa left from Nara Mnaet’s civil war, had previously been a death sentence to those infected. The simple mod works by...

“Why give the queen credit? She may be in on this, for all we know,” I said, scratching my head.

Mira smiled, crossing her arms. “Let’s say she is—that for some reason, she wants her people dead. The code is out there, and with her name on it, I guarantee it’s already been sequenced, applied. She can’t contradict something that works. And if she’s been lying about the virus or its cause before now, she’ll have some serious explaining to do to the empire nobles.”

Asher kissed Mira’s head. “Brilliant, isn’t she?”

“Ash, stop eyefucking a sec,” I said, just to be a dick. Once Mira gave my bandaged arm a playful slap for that, I followed up with, “Okay, what if Queen Azara is innocent?”

Mira’s eyes sparkled. “Well then, she’ll rake Mahakal’s reputation over the coals, and we’ve just strengthened her position. She should thank us.”

A genuine, full-bodied laugh escaped my lips, echoing in the small kitchen. “Yeah, I like it.”

She scrolled down, her brow furrowing. “We should pay close attention to the next bulletins in the temple. General Alexander and the queen haven’t responded yet. Even if Queen Azara tries wiping our bulletin and code schematics off the network, the Underground will supply me with reagents to keep producing the anti-SBO mod for them.”

Asher's and Mira’s faces glowed in the warm light of the hearth fire.

Sometimes, when things seem dark or hopeless, I set my brightest and most hopeless memories in my head, imagining them side by side to let the warmth of a good day triumph over the dark. A scared boy alone in the forest knew this day was coming, and I filled his heart with what overfilled me then; what I saw reflected in the faces I loved. When dark days come again, that moment has enough life to spare—Ash relaxed by the fire, his eyes full and content, Mira leaning into his shoulder, turning to smile at me too. This is all I needed.

Soren entered the kitchen a moment later, breaking the spell. “Asher, can we talk?” he said, ignoring me. With a sigh, I got up toward the stairs, mumbling about needing to get some sleep.

I could smell Faruhar in my room, a wave of salt and green and fire so strong I had to search the closet to see if she was hiding, but I only found her bag. This was a fresh gift from Mahakal’s code—I realized—the intensity and color of an aroma I smelled for the first time but recognized at once.

Her bag, a worn and patched up canvas, was not her, but I hugged it tight to my chest all the same. Just two days ago, I’d told Faruhar I’d always love her. I’d held her to my body in a cozy room so much like this one, wanting a lifetime of nights like it. I gripped that bag, fighting sleep, fighting thought, knowing that there was no way to win.

A knock on the door, gentle.

“Come in,” I said.

Asher, his face grim, Istaran’s green and gold sheath strapped on his back.

“Jesse?” I could hear so much concern in his voice.