“Iason,” she said. Lazaros chuckled, and Iason froze as he realized his mistake. He should have prepared a false name ahead of time, something Sophie would remember. He could only hope there were enough Iasons that he wouldn’t immediately cause concern.
“I’m sorry I didn’t ask your name before,” Lazaros said. “One moment.” His black eyes gleamed, and Sophie gasped as a demon shaped like a living constellation twisted out of Lazaros’s hair in a swirl of light and smoke. “My demon calls herself the Library. She can give you the knowledge of Morrey, Senex, or the ancient tongue of demons.”
“The ancient tongue,” Sophie said immediately, which meant, damn, Lazaros must have already started using a translating spell.
“I like you,” the Library said. Her stars pulsed with light. “Morrey first, though, so you can speak to your father better.”
“I’m not her father,” Iason said, as Sophie said, “Morreyandan ancient tongue, and I’ll give you my tea?”
The demon laughed like a ringing of bells, and Sophie paused, blinking slowly, before looking up at Lazaros. “I’m so jealous that you get to be with her all the time,” she said, in perfect Morrey.
“And they say Starians are afraid of demons,” Lazaros said, as Sophie reverently brushed her fingers over the shadow stuff that made the Library’s shape.
“Demons are just people, really,” Sophie said. “In a way. Aren’t they? They say there’s a noble in Staria who is possessed by one. I wonder if they’re as pretty as you are.”
“I am not one but multitudes,” the Library said.
“Then you’re all pretty,” Sophie said, and Lazaros smiled warmly at Iason.
“You’re free to stay here anytime, brother,” he said. “If only because my demon seems to have befriended your godsdaughter. For now, we can give you a tent, at least, and show you to the empty houses abandoned in the trouble.”
Iason wasn’t sure how to feel. Once, he’d lived quite comfortably in a world where Lazaros, his demon, and their companions were forced to stand by as the Archmage’s personal army. Now they called himbrother, and the word felt sour in his mind, undeserved. The son of the Oathkeeper would not have belonged here.
But his mother was dead, wasn’t she? She’d likely been killed by the crowd, ripped to pieces in the market square the night Iason was cursed. And the worst thing was, even with her memory fresh in his mind, Iason didn’t mourn her. He tried to think of her, hold her face in his mind, but felt nothing but a strange ache deep in his chest.
He jumped when Sophie reached for his hand. “It’s all right,” she said. “We’re out of Staria, and it’s not so bad here, don’t you think? And that was a sea dragon, so if we stay out of the water, we should be fine.”
“It had wings,” Iason said.
Sophie narrowed her eyes. “I wastryingto bepositive.”
“You’re in Mislia, in the middle of a rebellion.”
“More like the end of one,” Lazaros said, getting up. He winked at Sophie. “We’ll have the mage circle loyalists on the run soon enough, you’ll see.”
“See?” she said. “And don’t tell me he’s humoring me.”
“I’ll show you to your tent,” Lazaros said, still grinning. He led them out of the tent, his demon sinking into his hair with a glimmer of starlight, and Iason lowered his voice.
“Iwas a loyalist,” he whispered to Sophie.
“Yeah, well, you don’t hear mesayingthat, do you?” She rolled her eyes. “Honestly.”
Lazaros was right about the setup of the rebellion—it was more like a hastily constructed bureaucracy than a military, and some of the people rushing about between tents weren’t part of the former mage army at all. There were lines of people coming from inland to ask about missing family members or report damages, a number of mages were digging up coquina to repair houses, and there were even small children running about in the rain with a few of the teenage rebels and a small dog. Iason caught Sophie looking at them longingly, but she followed Lazaros to their tent all the same.
It was a simple construction, spelled for warmth and supplied with fresh clothes, blankets, and a water jug. Iason wondered how many displaced people they must have already seen to have accommodations waiting. Sophie collapsed on one of the bedrolls and groaned, dragging a blanket close.
“Sophie,” Iason said, once Lazaros had left them alone in the tent with just the drumming of the rain and the rush of waves on the shore. “You can… you can go out, if you wish. With the children.”
“I don’t know if I can look at the ocean right now,” Sophie said. “The way that dragon went after you… it was angry, Iason. Furious. Like it wanted to eat you. I thought it would.”
Iason hesitated. He didn’t know how to comfort people. He’d spent most of his life, so far as he knew, learning to do the opposite. Still, Sophie was shaking, and Iason sat down and lay a hand on her shoulder. “It didn’t eat me, though. We’re both still here.”
“I know.” A tear ran down Sophie’s cheek. “I just wish it was easier. I thought it would be. But those people who tried to kill me… they were doing it on my aunt’s orders, weren’t they? She’s the one who sent you after the king.”
A better person would have found a quiet, pleasant lie, false words to make Sophie feel better about the monstrous woman who’d made her life a misery and ordered her death when she’d learned Sophie had snuck away on the ship with Iason. But Iason wasn’t a good man. At least he could be an honest one. “Yes. She was.”
“Why does it have to all be so terrible,” Sophie said. “It’s like everyone has to be dragged kicking and screaming just to be nice to each other.”
