Jadis jolted awake at the impact against her ankles. She lurched forward, grabbing hold of her balance by the skin of her teeth, and blinked to clear her eyes. Her hand gripped the polished wood of the bar and behind it, smiling at her with a wicked grin, was Goose, hand lowering. The man was tall, exceptionally round, and far too happy for Jadis’ taste. She enjoyed the jovial sort, but nothing seemed to bother him. Insults only made him giggle and smooth his golden hair, and he was so large that few ever considered being violent with him, at least so far that the Huntress had seen. His eyes, so light brown they neared orange, were sharp and mischievous as always.

“That… was unkind of you, Goose,” Jadis said, voice thick with sleep. 

He chuckled and leaned forward onto the bar, cupping his round chin with both hands. “You were unkind first. It is a bad look for my establishment when customers walk in and see you laying back with your heels on the bar, mouth agape, drooling all over the floor.”

Jadis waved a hand dismissively. “I have the same right to sleep here as anyone else, even more so since I work for my keep.”

Goose stood and nodded. “You’re right, you have the same right to sleep here as everyone, which is none at all. And keep your boots off the bar.” He reached down and pulled a rag from somewhere beneath the counter, whipping it over his shoulder before crossing his arms. “If you need to sleep, go to that conveniently private room you have down the hall.”

Jadis rolled her eyes and looked around for the cup she had been drinking from, frowning to see it was gone. “Goose…”

He shrugged. “Your drink was attracting flies.” Then, clearly signalling he was done with the conversation, he turned and walked away to the other end of the bar to begin polishing glasses.

The Huntress stuck out her tongue at Goose and turned to look around the room. Despite his protestations about the effect of her appearance on his business, it was just the two of them inside. She scoffed and stood from her seat, stretching the tightness from her neck from her careless sleeping posture. 

Just as she was going to turn and take the hallway to the right back to her room, she paused at the sound of heavy footsteps coming down the stairs to the entrance of the bar. They were rushed, nearly frantic, and soon someone burst through the doors. It was Sai, one of the boys that lived on the outskirts. Thin and muscly, he often came by the bar to help Goose for pay. His dark eyes landed on her and he motioned her to follow him, urgency obvious in the gesture. “I think Damia needs your help.”

This flooded Jadis’ body with tension, and a touch of fear snaked its way into her belly. Damia never needed help, so if she had sent Sai to seek aid, then some serious trouble must have caught her. She nodded, wiping the sleep from her eyes and said, “Let me grab my sword.” She turned and ran to her room at the end of the hall, whipped her scabbard off the wall, and slung the belt around her waist as she ran back up to meet Sai. By the time they were up the stairs of the Middle Ground, it was tied securely around her loose tunic. 

She and Sai ran up the street and the late summer weather baked her skin. Once passed the buildings, he directed Jadis towards a small crowd by the lake shore where yelling and cheering came up in equal measures. The facts began to tick into place as they neared the group and by the time she had reached the edge of the ring of spectators, Jadis felt her annoyance rising greatly. 

She shoved Sai back away from the crowd, saying firmly, “Let me handle this, you stay here.” The young man looked as if he was going to argue, but then slowly nodded, crossing his arms. The Huntress nodded back and turned to the group, shoving her way easily through the men and woman, humans and angels and demons, all gathered in a ring. She felt a small bit of satisfaction that they parted for her as soon as they laid eyes on her. She pushed through into the circle and was not surprised that Damia, in fact, did not need help. A cheer rose through the group, though a few voices cried out in anger, at the sight of Damia sitting atop an opponent with her chin resting on her fist, as nonchalant as if she were sitting at the bar. The demon she had pinned flailed but was unable to throw her. Damia, grey-skinned and rippling with muscles, looked as comfortable as if basking in the summer sun. Barefoot, wearing a pair of loose lounge pants and a sleeveless tunic, she would have been the image of relaxation were she not covered in bruises and blood.

The cambion’s dark green eyes turned to Jadis and she smiled broadly, showing off her pointed fangs. “Oh, decided to come out of your grotto, Huntress?”

Jadis sighed, motioning over her shoulder. “Sai said you needed help.”

A loud, sharp bark of laughter escaped Damia and she shook her head, sitting upright. “The only help I will need is with carrying my winnings.” Her confident smile was so full of vitality that Jadis felt herself soften just a little, a smile coming to her face.

“I thought as much,” Jadis said as she sighed. “Are you done here?”

Damia nodded and stood, pushing off the demon so that he gave a squeak. She turned and looked at the spectators who had quieted down, her long tail flicking merrily as she surveyed them. “Sorry folks, I have more important things to do. Let’s meet up in a couple days and we can try this again.” Then, without waiting for a response, she slung an arm over Jadis’ shoulder and pushed her way through the crowd who, though sounding off with annoyance and disapproval, began to disperse.

A small flutter tore through Jadis’ belly at how easily it was to convince Damia to come with her, even in the middle of her doing something. It only intensified as they stopped in front of Sai and Damia grabbed the boy’s face with a scarred, massive hands. The movement streaked a thin red line of her opponent’s blood on his jaw. 

“My boy, I appreciate you looking out for me.” She gave him a few pats on his cheek before dropping her hand to his shoulder. “But I promise you, I never need your help.”

Sai gulped and looked between Damia and Jadis. “But… they were all trying to fight you and…”

Damia nodded. “That is what they were paying me for.” She motioned with the hand on Jadis’ shoulder to a pile of small leather pouches that had been left nearby. This brought a flush to the young man’s face, but before he could apologize, Damia smiled wide and squeezed his shoulder. “Like I said, I appreciate you looking out for me. Better my work is delayed rather than me ending up dead when they really get tired of me.” Her laughter was so hearty that even Sai smiled at it.

She motioned with her chin to the bags. “You can make it up to my by carrying those to my place. If anyone gives you any trouble, just remind them of who those belong to.” Then, without a word, she turned herself and Jadis away from the young man and started walking them both back to the Middle Ground. As usual, there were no situations that Damia entered where she did not immediately take control. With her reputation, who would attempt to fight her?

Dua Pria’s words prickled inside Jadis’ mind. “You waste your time with these cretins.”

Jadis fully ignored the barbed comment as she normally did when around other people. Even still, she frowned. It annoyed her to get directions in any capacity on her free time. While she was resting and planning, she was going to live whatever semblance of a social life she could. Spending time with Damia was one of the few benefits she had in this new world of hers.

The fighter looked down at Jadis with a sharp smile, her eyes narrowed. “That Witch giving you issues?”

Jadis repressed a smile and shook her head. “No more than usual.”

Dua Pria spoke loudly in Jadis’ mind this time, momentarily drowning out the sound of anything else. “Tell her my offer still stands.”

This made Jadis flinch and Damia sighed, saying. “She really never changes, does she?” 

Jadis shook her head. “No, she still offers to bring you into the Gem and fight her if you’d like.”

“Not fight, die. Pass on my messages completely or not at all.” Dua Pria’s annoyance lay thick over her words.

“It won’t be a fight, Jadis, but a slaughter,” Damia said, shaking her head with an amused grin. “Trust me, I know better than to get into a tumble with that one.”

“At least she has that single glimmer of wisdom,” Dua Pria spit out before going silent.

Jadis’s hand drifted down to Damia’s stomach and she let her head rest against her shoulder as they walked. “I am glad to see you again,” she said quietly. It had been weeks since they had seen each other and Jadis hadn’t expected their reunion until that evening.

Damia nodded and her arm tightened around Jadis’ shoulders. “Likewise. My bed is always so cold without you.”

There was no stopping the flush of heat in Jadis’ cheeks at the comment and she decided not to reply. Unlike Damia, Jadis did not feel so comfortable flaunting whatever it was they had between them. By the time they made it back to the bar, Jadis’ face had cooled and the two of them picked up their usual spots at the curve in the bar on the right side.

Goose gave Damia a concerned look. “Did you get in a fight with a rock slide? You’re covered in bruises and dust and blood.”

Damia opened her mouth to retort, paused, and cocked her head. “In a way, kind of.” Jadis did not count how many of the others in the crowd had looked as hurt as Damia was, but it had to have been at least a dozen.

Goose nodded knowingly and looked at Jadis. “She behaves so much nicer when you are around.”

Jadis couldn’t help but shrug and look at Damia, bumping into her shoulder with her own. “Perhaps one day that good influence will stick… but don’t count on it.”

Goose served up their usual drinks, and a handful of ice in a rag for Damia, and Jadis recounted her adventure for Damia. Goose busied himself with work, but he seemed to listen intently to her first adventure into the Hells. Damia asked questions, specifically about the Frog Demon, and Jadis enjoyed the amusement that was in both Damia and Goose’s faces. After she was done recounting her story, they sunk into an amicable silence. 

As they drank and settled in, Jadis considered her place among these people. She was a very new fixture having only lived there for a few months, yet they had accepted her quite easily. Damia, Goose, all the others who lived in this pocket dimension, they had been there for decades, born in the years after the Veil had fallen. This place, ancient and protected by forgotten magics, was a neutral territory in the cosmos, accessible by anyone who knew the sending spell or walked through the gateway in the mortal plane. When the Veil was gone, it had once more become populated with those that didn’t exactly fit in with their respective kinds.

Damia had been one of the first demonic creatures Jadis had met besides the Lord and his attendant, Kazan. What few stories she had read of cambions in her college studies had not served her well in navigating her interactions with Damia’s intense, powerful personality. Yet they had become quick allies and friends, and after a particularly messy attempt at stealing from an Angel, something a little more. Jadis was not the most experienced in matter of romance and sex, but at the current moment she was happy enough not to question it too deeply.

“Besides… she isn’t likely to be around much longer with her desire to see the Fifth Hell. In all seriousness, neither am I.” The thought had a sour iciness to it that Jadis didn’t like.

Goose had become an ally of circumstance. Her proximity to him daily, as well as being his only ‘tenet’, meant they had to form a bond simply to navigate their day to days. He was funny and cautious and seemed to like Jadis for all of his qualms with humans. She didn’t know exactly what he was, but something about his demeanor told Jadis he was a nephalim. Though he always had an opinion on Jadis’ choices, he was surprisingly supportive of her.

Damia thumped Jadis on the bicep, breaking her from the reverie of her thoughts. Then, reached over to cup the woman’s jaw in her hand. Jadis pulled away, smacking Damia’s hand in a playful rejection. She didn’t really mind the commanding touch, but there was a certain fun in denying Damia what she wanted so she would get riled up. “Beware, demon. Lest you forget my claws.”

There might have been anger in Damia’s eyes, but there was an equal measure of wicked playfulness as well. She leaned onto her fist, looking at Jadis with a measured expression. “You think that you could stand up to me, little human?” Her voice was filled with teasing.

Jadis shrugged and sipped her drink. “Apparently, yes.” Even though the words were supposedly true, she had her doubts.

This made Damia laugh. “Yes, your infamous fight you can’t remember.” The cambion was cautious enough not to mention Korzu or the Lord, or anything about Jadis’ true purpose. “I’m sure those non-memories will help you take me  down.”

Jadis laughed and reached out to grab the cambion by the jaw like she had attempted with Jadis. Damia’s hand flashed out, grabbing Jadis by the wrist to stop it. The tips of her fingers, usually a smooth gradient from grey to black, had elongated into sharpened black talons. “Between the two of us, Huntress, remember that only one of us has claws.”

The sudden thudding in Jadis’ chest destroyed any chance of continuing the banter, her retort had dissolved into the flush of heat that ran over her skin. She took a breath to soothe her sudden, flustered emotions and pulled her hand from Damia’s grip. She let go willingly, claws fading as she gave Jadis a wicked smile. The Huntress focused on her drink again, unable to meet the hungry gaze that was so at home in Damia’s eyes.

Unwilling to let up, the cambion drew a finger up the side of Jadis’ exposed arm. “When do you leave again?”

Trying her best to ignore the shiver that the sensation sent through her, she took a long sip from her drink, then decided to just gulp down the rest. The earthy, green taste of the Schole helped her focus on something else as the bitterness assaulted her tongue. Then, after taking another breath, she replied, “I leave in two days.”

If Damia could have purred, Jadis was certain that the sound would accompany the look she gave her then. “Good to know,” she said, taking the moment to down her own drink. Then, moving so quickly that Jadis barely recognized the motion until Damia’s face was pressed up to her, cheek to cheek, she spoke into Jadis’ ear. “When I return, we will have more than enough time to… catch up.” The cambion’s muscled arm was poised on the bar.

Jadis closed her eyes, indulging in the heat of Damia’s cheek on hers, and sighed as she felt the subtle kiss that was laid on the edge of her jaw. Then the contact vanished and Jadis opened her eyes to complain.

But Damia was gone.

For a long moment she was silent,  turning back to stare at her empty cup as her body unwound from the tension that had been spooling inside of her since she saw Damia, perched so effortlessly atop her opponent. There was something endlessly alluring about the fighter’s ease of being and undeniable strength.

Goose gave a low chuckle and came by, pouring more of the dark ale into her cup. “She is going to eat you alive, Jadis.” His sighed and pushed the cup towards her. “Be wary.” It was not the first time he had given a warning of this flavor to her.

Jadis nodded, taking the cup and sipping it, eyes still down on the bar. “At least dying by her hand would be pleasurable.”

Goose laughed, throwing his cloth over his shoulder. “True, she does seem to have an unusual fascination with your…” he trailed off, motioning to her with one of his hands. “Human-ness.”

Jadis shrugged, lifting her hands and shaking them as if celebrating. “What can I say, I attract the divine.” Her tone was flat and sardonic.

Goose blanched. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. One cambion does not equal the attraction of the Heavens and the Hells.”

She shrugged in response, then nodded in agreement. He was right of course, and though she felt embarrassed to be talking about her personal life with Goose, there was a certain relief in it. Life had become so much more complicated in the last year, and she couldn’t bring her friends along on this ride-

Her friends… her family…

The precipitous wave of nausea hit Jadis hard enough that she expected the muscle-locking tension that followed. Those forbidden memories never failed to rock her to the core and remind her of what had been taken. As if she were a flower plucked from a field, she had been taken without any regard for the life she had been living before.

Dua Pria spoke up. “They will be waiting for you to return.” Her tone was softer than usual.

Jadis had to repress a verbal scoff at the words. “I guarantee you, they all think that I am dead. My friends. My family. Everyone.” She choked off the thoughts, forcing her mind into stillness. It as the most she could allow herself to let out, otherwise the terrible grief would disarm her.

Goose watched her, the pleasant cut of his expression eroding into dread. Jadis knew what he saw: hollowed eyes, a breathless pause, and stillness in her as if she had been rendered inert. The icy enthrallment that took her, as much as Jadis tried to keep it contained, bled frost to those nearest to her. Yet, as she breathed and strong-armed her mind into the peace of battle awareness, she began to thaw. Piece by piece the tension in her muscles bled away and she picked up her cup to take a long sip. 

She did not acknowledge the many minutes that had passed since her last words. Jadis never did. What did she have to say? 

Standing from the bar, Jadis picked up the cup and pointed to the hallway behind her. Goose sighed but nodded. She expected him to give her the usual warning about returning he dish by midnight, but he instead turned away to busy himself. Perhaps it was that she rarely heeded the words, or maybe he just didn’t have the heart to talk to her any further. “Thanks. See you later.”

Jadis turned, walked down the hallway, and entered the quiet solitude of her room. 

For a many minutes she just stared at it, sipping her drink and trying to keep her mind blank. The planks that made up the floor were rough and uneven, surrounded by stone brick walls that were capped by a sagging wooden ceiling. Her bed lay in the back right corner, messy and tossed apart from when she had woken that morning. The opposite corner housed her wardrobe, a floor chest, and a plush reading chair she had found abandoned by the lake. She looked to the left, examining the wooden shelf that contained all of her tools, books, and materials. Then to the right to look at her desk piled high with scrolls and tomes, all ready for studying.

As lived in as the room was, it was a cold place compared to the other rooms she missed each and every day. The ones where warm conversation was never far away, or where the smell of familiar cooking often came to visit. But her mind turned to Damia and the laughter they had filled this room with, the long conversations and quiet meals they had within it. Though it seemed unlikely, maybe even impossible, Jadis tried to tell herself that maybe one day this place could be as homey as those other rooms had been.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The softness of the bed, the blankets, and Damia’s presence beside Jadis seemed to meld into the quietness of the night and form a cocoon around them. The cambion lay there breathing evenly, bare save for her lower half which was covered by the thin sheets. She was laying on her stomach, looking at Jadis with a calm expression. Jadis was just as bared but sat up against the headboard, book in hand as she read from it.

Damia reached over, placing her hand on Jadis’ thigh. “Do you ever stop reading?”

Jadis smirked but didn’t look away from the book. “When I sleep, perhaps. Or when I have to use my eyes for other things.”

Damia’s hand drifted down, cupping her knee, then crept lower to her calf. Her fingers pressed into the strained muscle and Jadis closed her eyes, sighing. It was difficult to focus on holding the book open as the waves of relief surged across her nerves. Jadis opened her eyes and looked at the cambion again, reaching over to run her hands through Damia’s black hair, so springy and shiny. Beneath it, hidden by the curls, were the nubs of her horns from where they had been filed off. She ran her fingers over them, just as Damia had said felt comforting.

Damia sighed and her hand stilled for a moment.  “I meant to ask before.” She pointed a long finger beyond Jadis to the bedside table where the Maelstrom Gem rested. “Why you?”

Jadis cocked her head, looking at Damia for a moment before looking to the Gem, then back to the cambion. “I… well…” She lapsed into a silence that betrayed her ignorance on the matter.

Damia’s mouth fell agape, fangs visible behind her dark lips. “You never asked?” Her voice was incredulous.

Jadis shook her head rested her hand on the top of Damia’s head. “I asked. They just didn’t tell me in a way I understood.” 

In truth, Jadis had no real idea why she had been chosen to hold the gem and receive this mission. She was a scholar, not a warrior. She was the daughter of beekeepers, not a priestess of fire. Yet the Lord of the Black Trident had chosen her to find the Red Flame Root and return the Maelstrom Gem to it. “They said they had weighed my heart and known my worth.”

Damia nodded as if this made some semblance of sense. “Aaaah, it must be a Primordial thing. I don’t know if you know this, but the that lot are bound to traditions and forms in a way the rest of demon-kind isn’t.”

Jadis grumbled, looking away and crossing her arms. “There is always so much more to learn,” she muttered.

The fighter caressed her thigh, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You’ll get it eventually. For one so fresh to this world, you know far more than would be expected.”

This made Jadis laugh. Nearly all humans knew absolutely nothing about the true cosmic order in the modern day. “Thanks for the shining compliment.” She wasn’t able to refute the words though. In real time, she had been at this goal for six months. Including the strange, twisted timespace that Dua Pria had trained her in, it had been nearly a year. No time at all compared to the centuries that divine creatures lived before Cycling or finding permanent destruction. Yet she had crammed her mind so full of knowledge that relating to angels and demons, cambions and nephalim, had not been the cataclysmic failure it would have been otherwise.

Damia thought on this for a moment. “I don’t really care why you were chosen, if I’m honest. I am just glad you are here. And that it was you and not some stuffy administrator. I’m sure I would have killed them upon first contact.”

Jadis grinned and met her gaze. “Is that so? I’m guessing you don’t want to hear that I always get chosen as the accountant in the student organizations at my college.”

This made Damia’s small nose wrinkle in distaste. “Everyone has to have a flaw, I guess.” She reached out and ran a finger along her chin. “It is a good thing you’re so cute.”

Jadis smiled, then sighed, reaching down to cup Damia’s cheek for a moment. Then she looked at her book, tucked the strip of ribbon she used as a page marker into the crease, and closed it. She set it on the bed beside her, looking again at Damia. The cambion smiled, eyes lidded as if she were about to sleep. But Jadis was not deceived. That look meant Damia was watching with the highest of her awareness. 

This brought a smile to Jadis’ mouth. Damia’s tucked her face against her own shoulder to hide it so only her dark eyes were visible. After a heart-twisting moment, Jadis had to look away. The unfortunate reality of their natures interacting at such close proximity was that the subtle enchantment of Damia’s being, her heritage from her demonic parentage, drew Jadis in with an unerring precision. There were moments were Jadis could fully disappear as she sunk into that beautiful, seductive, hypnotic gaze. 

She breathed a sigh. “I must seek out the Second Hell soon. I have an idea of where to go, but…” Though she wished to soften the words, there was no way around the reality. “I will likely be gone far, far longer than my trip to the Dimlight.”

Damia stared for a moment before she nodded. “This is no surprise, you’ve told me before.” Her voice was muffled against the skin of her arm.

Jadis smiled again, still not looking at her. “Months at the longest estimate.”

Damia huffed. “Cursed again to a cold, cold bed.” Her hand drifted back up to Jadis’ thigh and she began to massage the muscles there. “Though I hope you’ve come to see just how much I missed you while you were gone.”

This brought a flush to Jadis’ face like so many of the other things that Damia said. “You can take other lovers, if you’d like,” she replied, hesitation in her tone. She finally looked back to the cambion.

Damia scoffed. “That would be an indulgence that I wish to avoid.” 

Jadis shook her head. For one such as Damia, bound to the passion of the flesh that afflicted her ancestors, Damia was remarkably in control. “I don’t understand, to be honest,” Jadis said meekly.

Damia sighed this time. “Would you take lovers apart from me?”

Jadis considered this and realized that she had not truly thought about it while out and about in the world. So focused on her task, she was not concerned with finding companionship in her adventures. She shook her head. “No, I do not have time for that. And besides, it is different with most humans.”

Damia nodded. “I have nothing but time for that, and my blood already makes it easy to get lost within such vices. If I were to start taking every pretty face that begged me for a night back to my bed, I’d soon lose contact with whatever part of me is human. So one at a time is my rule.”

Jadis frowned, her hand reaching out once more to stroke the hair on Damia’s head. “The loss of your humanity would be the biggest tragedy of all. I don’t know how, but you are all the best of what makes human beings what they are.” She stopped her words abruptly, her teeth audibly clicking together. Strangely enough, she felt no jealousy over the idea of Damia being with others. The thought was followed by a rush of shame as she noted that she had been expecting Damia to have others. 

Despite the inner revelation Jadis was having, her words made Damia smile broadly. “I like it when you talk all prettily to me.”

Jadis stuck out her tongue, still caressing Damia’s head. “I may be a Huntress, but I was a Scholar first.”

Damia re-positioned herself closer to Jadis, reaching out to wrap an arm around the woman’s thigh. “I think you make a fine huntress. Even the rabbits need culling every now and then.”

The teasing words made Jadis flush, for even though she knew that the cambion was joking, she couldn’t help but feel the subtle testing within the words. A warrior through to the heart, Damia was not one who accepted weakness. 

Jadis reminded herself that if Damia truly thought Jadis was weak, they would not be laying in bed together. So, taking a breath, she decided to play along. “Charred bunnies, honored to be slain by the Primordial Flame. I could cook some up for you.”

Damia laughed loudly, getting closer and pressing her face against Jadis’ hip. “Such a ruthless Huntress.” The words were sleepy.

Jadis ran her hands through Damia’s hair again, tracing the points in her ears and the lines of her jaw. “It’s really only me?”

The cambion nodded, eyes closed. “Just you,” she replied quietly. Jadis sat with those two words for a moment, trying to fit them into the messily constructed thing she had become. But then Damia added, “Besides, when you’re gone and I miss you… I fight so much better.”

This settled some of the disquiet that had been building in Jadis. There were few guides for relationships in the mortal world, at least ones that didn’t come with hymns and prayers and rules for the spirit attached. The Mentalists at the college studied the mind and its mechanics, but when Jadis had talked to them they had been sterile and cold, like the mathematicians. And even if she had entire courses of study and education towards the topic, they would still not serve her very well here. Cambions and humans, while similar in some ways, were incredibly different. Half-human and half-demon, they were imbued with the powers of their kind, yet weakened by the integrated human flaws. For Damia, descended from succubi and other seductive demons, she had been made for a purpose that she denied day by day.

Jadis reached down and picked up her book, opened it, but left one hand resting on Damia’s head when she didn’t need it. Quietly, she said, “You fight while I am gone. Just make sure you are here when I get back to tell me all about it.”

She did her best to push the thought out of her mind that one day it might be her that didn’t come back. Looking over to the small bedside table, her eyes latched onto the Maelstrom Gem. Off of her chest the stone had became dull, the swirling color inside gone and replaced with a dim, pulsing light. Those few times each day she took it off, it seemed to go to sleep, waiting for her to once again don it upon her neck. 

She sighed, reaching over to grab it while doing her best not to disturb Damia, then pulled the necklace over her messy bun and around her neck. It settled against her upper chest in the familiar spot she expected to feel it and the surface glowed to life.

Dua Pria’s quiet, prickling voice came across immediately. “The Lord has come to me. When you awake, you will come here and he will tell you his message.” The presence of the Witch flared and dissipated, a spark from the ember of the Gem. Then she was quiet, nothing else to say.

Coldness suffused through Jadis’ bones, and for a long moment she didn’t even breathe. “Yes, teacher,” she thought, releasing her pent up breath. The lack of response made her wonder if Dua Pria had even heard her, but she put the thought out of her mind. It was better that she attempt to get some sleep if she would be facing her Lord the next day. 

Yet even when she tucked into Damia and let sleep try to take her, it was a restless night.

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