Marked by Death (Necromancer #1) - Kaje Harper Page 0,41
riding a sorcerer who was a member of the Guild council? By yourself?” Ferngold’s gaze tried to bore a hole into Silas. “There hasn’t been a demon that old loose in decades. You’re not that strong.”
Silas shrugged. “Maybe I’m that lucky.” It was sobering to realize that really was true. Darien is my luck. He leaned forward. “Question is, why didn’t anyone notice? I’m the council’s man on the ground when demons are raised. Why did no one tell me?”
Ferngold slumped, looking older. “No one knew. I hadn’t heard even a rumor. He missed the last two Guild meetings. Illness once, unavoidable business the other, but no one suspected…” He straightened but his face still looked drawn. “You’re certain?”
“The demon shed the corpse and gave me his name, at the end.” Silas let a little ice edge his voice, as Ferngold didn’t look convinced. “Grim said Morra tasted like raw chicken.”
Ferngold flinched, and the gecko squeaked and ducked down into the old sorcerer’s pocket. Ferngold asked, “Where is Grim?”
From the doorway, Grim said, “I’m here. And I’m hungry.” Silas barely had time to unfold his arms and brace himself before twenty pounds of tomcat ended up in his lap. Grim licked a claw tip and sat on Silas’s thighs. “Crosby was a meat suit for that demon, by the time he showed up here. He had to have been ridden for months, maybe even years. Until his familiar was tainted beyond repair too.”
Silas remembered the end of the fight, the jealousy and anger that had let him goad Crosby. “Not entirely a suit. There was a little human left.”
Grim flicked his ears. “Perhaps. Didn’t save him. Stupid bastard. Is it time for cream yet?”
Silas didn’t dare pet and soothe him. The tension of that compact muscled body in his lap suggested Grim would take his hand off if he tried. “Someone will have to go to Crosby’s home and go through it, fumigate it.” No doubt there were dark spells, and whatever the demon had been up to, to amuse itself. Not my problem, praises be. “Was there anything else, sir?
“You’ll have to come to the council and give us a full report. No later than tomorrow. I’ll call a meeting.” Ferngold pushed to his feet. “What a mess. Although if you stopped him… that’s impressive, Thornwood. We’ll want to know all the details.”
What they wanted and what he’d give them were two different things, but he nodded. “Of course.”
As Ferngold headed toward the door, Silas was patting himself on the back for a successful deflection. Unfortunately, Clicks ran up to the sorcerer’s shoulder, and looked back at Silas, toes snagged in Ferngold’s shirt. “And the young ghost-carrier? Are you still expecting Anya to pull your nuts out of the fire on that one?”
Ferngold froze and turned back. “Ah, yes, I almost forgot. Where is the unfortunate boy?”
Asleep in my bed was not a safe answer with the hidebound old sorcerer. “He’s still sleeping. It’s only seven-fifteen. And he’s fine. I told you, there are more urgent matters.”
“If Crosby is dead and the demon banished— you did say you banished the demon?” Ferngold raised an eyebrow.
“Yes.”
“Then I think Crosby’s house can wait until I verify the wellbeing of the ghost-ridden young man.” Ferngold set his coat on the chair and leaned on the desk, looking immovable.
Silas kept his exasperated breath silent. The fastest way to get past Ferngold was to cooperate, up to a point. “I’ll fetch him down for you, sir. He’s in bed, so that may take a while.”
“I can take the time to peruse these shelves. Old Vickery had some interesting-looking volumes in his library.” Ferngold cast a look around the books lining the walls. “I assume you plan to curate them at some point? It would be a shame to see this fall to rack and ruin.”
That seemed a bit dramatic for a bit of dust, but Silas said, “Yes, when I can get someone trustworthy to do it. Excuse me.”
He closed the door on the way out, and sealed it with a chime spell— he didn’t want to offend the powerful sorcerer by locking him in, but at least he’d have a warning if the old man decided to wander.
Grim paced at his heels, and purred loudly when he turned for the kitchen instead of the stairs. “Cream at last.”
“And tuna.” Silas smiled, despite everything. “I’d better bring Darien some food or he’s not going to survive interrogation by Ferngold.”
Chapter 10
Silas left Grim snarl-purring over