later if we need to.”
“I’ve heard some Nihil can speak and understand any language in existence. We’ll have to ask Tazreel if you’ll be able to do that too,” Crux adds.
I reel at the thought of being fluent in every language ever. That would make haggling at the flea market a little easier, but holy shit!
I tap my lips in thought. “How ’bout now…English?” I ask hopefully.
“No, still Hellion,” Jerif says with a surly, impatient look on his face.
“Dammit.” I pout.
Crux just laughs at me like I’m adorable and pulls me through the graveyard gate.
“After the bleeding and offering up my social security number and my first born child, what else does the induction include?” I ask, my tone a little more petulant than joking, because I can’t figure out how this whole language thing is working. What if I’m stuck on Hellion setting? That would sure as fuck make managing in the Mortal Realm tricky.
“Our children will already be tied to the Gate. Offering them up is just redundant,” Jerif grouses.
I snort, but then balk when what he said sinks in. “Wait. Our kids will have to Guard the Gate? They won’t get any choices in the matter?”
“First of all,” Echo starts, “we don’t have any kids, so don’t waste too much energy getting worked up about this. Second of all, do any of us even want them? I mean, we just fucked for the first time, so the little demon talk feels too soon. Third of all, yes, this position gets passed down to the next eligible member in a bloodline, but we live for—pretty much—ever unless we’re killed, so that could mean our kids won’t ever have to pick up the mantle, and our great-great-great...fuck ton of greats-grandchildren could be the ones to have to step up.”
I snort and don’t even try to wrap my mind around the live forever part of that statement.
“The Gate chooses whoever is the most powerful of that bloodline when the Guardian passes. It’s not always who you would assume it is,” Iceman tells me.
For some reason, the way he says that makes me pause. “Were you…” I trail off, not sure how to voice my question.
“Everyone assumed that the Gate duty was going to pass to my older half brother. He was, by all accounts, better than me. Physically stronger. More powerful. Rigid mental discipline. But then when the time came, the Gate chose me instead. Everyone was shocked. Myself included.”
I can hear that there’s more to the story. “Did that bother you?”
In a very uncharacteristic gesture, he reaches up and runs a hand over his dark blue hair, his fingers caressing the base of his horns. “That’s...a difficult answer.”
“Just tell her the truth,” Jerif butts in. “You were glad, because it meant you didn’t have to take a position in Avarice like all the rest of your family expected. But then you felt fucking guilty, because it meant your brother would be expected to instead, and he had been preparing his whole life to be a Guardian.”
Iceman rubs the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable.
I shoot an irritated look at Jerif for his brashness as we head closer to the mausoleum, our feet tromping over the deep green grass as we meander around the headstones.
“Why was your brother preparing for this job though? If Guardians live so long, wouldn’t you just assume that you’d live a normal life? Whatever constitutes normal for Hell, I mean.”
“Things with the Gate were volatile at the time. There were two Guardians then—Jerif’s and my ancestors—but the Hellgate was calling for a third, so they were waiting for a third to accept the position. Whenever the Gate goes through a transition like that, it seems that dissatisfied demons in unrest somehow get alerted and start causing trouble. So my family selected my brother as the better option between the two of us and started training him, just in case.”
“Ah,” I voice in understanding. “So right now, with the Gate being more volatile…” I trail off, not wanting to finish that curious thought.
“Each of our lines are training several of the demons they think could be called upon in the event we die,” Jerif morbidly finishes in answer to my unspoken question.
“Wow, that sounds intense.”
Everyone nods and falls silent for a moment. I want to toss out some cheerful comment like, well, don’t worry guys, I’m here now and all is well again, but I don’t actually know if that’s true, and even if it is,