“I can see the wheels in your head turning, Aurelie,” Everard said. “Don’t forget about your uncle. Surely he means more to you than a demon.”
In that moment, Aurelie had never despised someone the way she did Everard, his callousness, his willingness to treat people as disposable for his own aims. Aurelie had made terrible mistakes, but she would never deliberately hurt someone.
A lump rose in her throat. Just beneath her disgust for Everard was a pit of shame, knowing that she had allowed herself to be used so easily. That she had gone against her better judgment under the foolhardy belief that she could change the world.
She clenched her jaw, pushing down the tears and humiliation. Now was hardly the time to wallow in self-pity. Everard was a despicable human being, but he was also the only person she’d ever met who knew more about demons than she did. If there was anything useful she could glean from him that could help save her uncle, or at least convince Des not to turn her in, she had to learn it.
“I’ve never understood the connection between demons and invention,” she said truthfully, neatly changing the subject. “The way it’s always been explained to me, Florian’s cursecausedthe link. But if he wanted more innovation, why connect it to demons? It’s completely counterintuitive.”
Everard gestured to the foot of Aurelie’s bed, as though asking permission to sit down. She drew her knees all the way up to her chest, earning a look from Everard that suggested she was being overly dramatic. “Invention has always been linked to something... otherworldly, shall we say. From the simplest contraption to the grandest marvel, innovation can’t exist without a fragment of untamed potential, a spark of chaotic energy.”
Aurelie couldn’t help but smile at this. She had always thought of the tingling sensation in her body that came with a new idea as something that came from outside of her, though she wouldn’t have called it “otherworldly.” Just... special.
“When human minds shape this potential into reality, they unknowingly invite the attention of that other realm, separated from us by what many refer to as a veil, though of course it can’t be touched or even seen.”
“Like the atmosphere?”
Everard nodded. “Exactly. When the veil is fully intact, humans are entirely unaware of this other realm. Their hopes, their dreams, their ideas all feel as though they are organic manifestations of their own minds.”
Aurelie wondered what it must be like to live in that world, where people simply had an idea and then acted upon it. On the one hand, it sounded like unbridled freedom to her stifled imagination. Onthe other, if no one had to think of the immediate consequences of their actions, it could lead to a lot of unanticipated destruction down the road.
“But,” Everard continued, “when the veil is thinned to the point of near absence, the dark entities themselves—known to us as demons—are physically able to enter our world.”
“So Florian didn’t know he was thinning the veil?”
“Ah, now we get to the heart of the matter. Aciano, as the firstborn, was always assumed to be the future king, and he was raised accordingly. His father, though never admitting it, secretly blamed Florian for his wife’s death during his delivery, and the resentment he had for his second son never wavered. When the twins were twenty-five, Aciano and the king fell ill with a disease brought back to Wisteria by a trader, and there was speculation that Florian was behind it.”
Aurelie couldn’t help scoffing. That wasn’t how diseases worked.
Everard inclined his head, as though acknowledging her unspoken words. “Those who knew Florian were skeptical; he’d never shown any interest in ruling, and he spent as little time at home as possible. But his father had also begun to pressure him to stay closer to Wisteria, knowing Aciano would need his brother’s council when he became king.
“With both Aciano and the king near death, Florian had no choice but to step in and help run the kingdom, and he proved an insightful ruler. Having traveled abroad, Florian knew of the war brewing outside Wisteria between two neighboring kingdoms, Callerya and Samara. Callerya had invested heavily in its military, and many believed it would invade Samara. Samara, a smallkingdom between Callerya and Wisteria, would likely fall easily, and Wisteria could be next.
“Florian wanted to go on a diplomatic mission to Callerya to try to stop the war, but Aciano, who knew little of what went on beyond his kingdom’s borders, refused to allow it. Soon after, the king died, and Aciano made a slow but steady recovery. At his coronation, he named Florian his chief advisor. When Callerya eventually did invade Samara and all hope of a diplomatic solution fizzled, Florian begged his brother to invest in their defenses. There was a risk, of course. Weapons have always been the most dangerous of inventions. Demons are naturally drawn to chaos and destruction, and nothing pushes against the veil more than war.
“But instead of meeting Callerya in combat, Aciano constructed a wall to protect the kingdom, not only keeping enemy forces out, but keeping Wisterian citizens within. Furious at his brother’s weakness, Florian began to work on his own inventions, including the weapons he believed could save Wisteria.”
“So he did commit treason?”
“Not at first. It was Revenin, the court mage, who came to Florian with a proposal. Aciano despised magic as much as he hated innovation, and he was in the process of decreeing magic illegal. But Revenin had a proposition, one that could save magicandWisteria: Florian’s soul in exchange for access to the power trapped on the other side of the veil.”
At that, Aurelie’s heart sank.
“Then Florianisthe reason we have demons, the reason Wisterians are isolated and unable to progress,” she said bitterly. “Acianowas right to ban magic. If he’d done it sooner, none of this would have happened.”
“A closed-minded person might believe that, I suppose.”
“That kind of reasoning might have worked on me before. But I can’t pretend that being open-minded is all that matters anymore. Not when it’s led me to this.”
Everard placed his hand on Aurelie’s leg, causing her to shrink back farther. “Aurelie, by building this portal, you can right all the wrongs caused by Florian and Aciano. Please don’t tell me that no longer matters to you.”
She shook her head, desperate to be back in her lab, away from this horrible place. “I don’t understand. You claim to want to rid this world of demons, and yet you’re obviously linked to them somehow. You have athrall. How can you even be sure Kobal is under your control?”
“A thrall is linked to its master. Anything it might do to hurt me would ultimately hurt itself.”
Aurelie lowered her gaze. That was certainly information worth holding on to. “You never finished telling me about the curse.”
“Ah, yes. Aciano, alerted to his brother’s plans by the council, decreed that all inventing would be banned in Wisteria, hoping to stop Florian before he could start. He was too late—Revenin had already opened the portal, thinning the veil enough that each invention would bring a new demon through, and Florian’s soul had already been bartered. But access to the power on the other side of the veil never came. Aciano had the portal destroyed, murdered Revenin, and attempted to have his brother tried for treason. ButFlorian escaped, and all Aciano could do was uphold the ban on invention and magic, in the hopes that the veil would hold.”