Chapter 22

22

T he next day, Chloe takes Delina out of the cabin, deeper into the woods until they come across the other side of the burned circle.

Maison didn't look at her after they returned from the brewery, and didn't crawl into her bed the next night, plunging Delina into even more confusion.

"Okay, masking a magical flare," Chloe says, tucking her hands into the pockets of her hoodie. "Every magic gives them in some way, different people can see them. A demon—or, you know, Freddy—could tell just with a glance based on the type of feedback they give off. Like a vibe."

Delina nods, and the sun is just starting to peek out from the morning mist. It's colder than the last few days, and each breath draws icy lines into her throat.

"So do you know anything about diffusers? For lights and cameras?"

"I thought flare was less literal than that," Delina says, trying real hard to keep the sarcasm from her voice.

"Yes, just like how magic isn't actually in threads, it just looks like it," Chloe replies, bouncing on her feet. "Be as literal or as figurative as works for you. I like literal, it helps me picture things."

Delina scuffs her toes right up to the mossy line, before everything is abruptly burned. "Maison's the one that pictures things, not me."

"And he's the one currently moping, so that's on him. If he wanted to come help, he'd be welcome."

That doesn't help, so Delina huffs out a breath, which puffs around her face. "Yeah, I'm halfway certain he's mad at me."

Chloe gives her a look, her brown eyes sharp. "Yes, of course, he's mad. That's what it is. Not scared out of his mind."

"I'm not scary," Delina says, and Chloe responds by rolling her eyes. "What? I'm not. I'm an accountant, I deal with spreadsheets."

"Necromancers are terrifying," Chloe shoots back. "Nobody understands them and you basically can hold someone's life in the palm of your hand. Countries would kill for that power to be under their control, rich men would hoard them, and demons are drawn to them. There's nothing that isn't scary."

"Cool," Delina says.

"It's one thing to think that the person you've been sleeping next to for years might be a spooky sort of magic, it's an entire other thing for her to put it to practice on your dead body." Chloe finally slings off her backpack from her shoulder. "If I were him, I'd be evaluating every little thing of my life after that."

In the cold air that hurts her nose, Delina can't bring herself to roll her eyes right back at that.

"He'll come around, or he'll get so annoyed by Gurlien pestering him for theory that he'd do anything to run away with you again," Chloe says. "Gurlien has my back, I have his, but good lord is he good at ignoring clues that the other person is bored out of their mind."

"Glad I'm not as bad as that," Delina says, then toes the border again. "So, diffuser."

"If drawing the magic to you is light, then think something blocking it, so they can't pinpoint it directly." Chloe switches courses easily, as if there's nothing else to it and she didn't just leave Delina with a sour taste in her mouth. Out of her backpack, she pulls out a thin sheet of plastic, then a tiny flashlight. "Flashlight by itself, thin beam, you know where it's coming from. Then this," she shakes the plastic sheet, and in the warble it turns from clear to almost opaque. "This happens."

She hides the flashlight behind the sheet and instead of a thin beam, the entire sheet of plastic lights up.

"There's still light," Delina points out, intrigued besides herself.

"Do a big enough diffuser, all they'd be able to figure is your general area. Think big enough to disguise mountain regions. It's possible, in theory."

"So what, right now you want me to raise something from the dead and then hide it?"

"God no, just imagining the plastic in your hands, that sort of thing." Chloe stores the now frosted plastic back in her backpack. "Think about the place your necromancy comes from, think about how it feels, just…don't touch a dead thing."

The dead bird is a good few minutes' walk away, which helps, so Delina settles her feet wider, then…thinks.

No place in the forest is truly devoid of something dead, not with the moss decaying under the thin layer of frost that glittered earlier that morning, not with bugs crawling and dying and leaves and fallen branches and browned grass.

There's new growth moldering over the dead bird, lessening the punch, but the knowledge that she could still bring it back sits beneath her spine.

The handprint on the back of Chloe's neck, hidden underneath the hoodie, still burns in the cold air.

"Should we get antibiotics on your neck? Did the skin break?" Delina asks. "It's inflamed, whatever it is."

Chloe just blinks at her. "No?"

"It hurts, still."

"Well, yeah, Korhonen is real good at damaging people, that's his shtick," Chloe replies, almost dismissive. "I'll scar but I'll be okay."

"Dude," Delina says.

Chloe shrugs. "They did worse to me in the Toronto base," she says, as if attempting to dismiss it. "That's where I broke out, and their defenses…let me tell you." As if Delina needs the proof, she hikes up her jacket and shirt in the chilled air, revealing a mess of scars across her ribcage. "I barely managed to stop the mechanism that did this before it shredded me, left all my research behind, a little burn of a hand isn't gonna take me down."

Delina resists the overwhelming want to poke at the scars, to test to see how deep they are, if they still hurt, but Chloe tucks her shirt back into place. "This is starting to sound more war criminal-y than I'm comfortable with."

Chloe gives her finger-guns. "You're not wrong! There's a reason I left, and people like him are a big part of it. Concentrate, diffuser."

Delina rolls her eyes again, then, feeling more than a little bit foolish, tries to imagine that sheet of plastic.

It does nothing, but the plastic front door to the cabin slams open, and Chloe gives Delina a wicked smile.

"See, told you he'd find you more interesting."

Sure enough, Maison's striding towards them, hunching in under his coat, a scowl across his face.

"I'm just practicing her concentration," Chloe says merrily, before he even has anything to say. "Just some visualization work, nothing risky."

Maison doesn't even spare Delina a glance. "I felt it."

"You're also only a few feet away, you're attuned to everything she does, and you're paranoid," Chloe says, then shoots Delina a merry smile. "Try it again, see what Freddy sees."

"Stop calling me that," he mumbles.

"Well, if you're going to be out here, you can be helpful." Chloe gestures for Delina to continue, as if the entire outside didn't get insanely more awkward. "Remember, plastic sheet."

Maison crosses his arms. "Visualization's not going to help her, she's not an alchemist."

"Then any ideas?" Delina asks, her voice sharper than she really wanted, and the flicker of hurt flashes over Maison's face, familiar, before it smoothes over into his confident mask.

It's the same mask he put on when he first met her dad, and she doesn't buy it one bit.

"Don't think about a plastic sheet, try to spot where the threads of magic flicker through the property," he says, gruff, and the tips of his ears are cold, turning red and derailing her train of thought for a few moments. "Like this."

Without her even thinking too hard, the strip of gold is in his hands once more, tugging from between the trees.

Chloe throws up her hands. "Or yes, do advanced demonology, that's practical advice, thank you, Freddy."

He ignores her, before gesturing for Delina's hand and dumping the strip of magic on her palm.

Her heart jolts, almost unpleasant, like she grabbed a live wire, but nothing else happens.

"There's a reason demons want necromancers," Maison says, still barely looking at Delina, despite the strip of magic coiling in the palm of her hand, shockingly warm. "Using natural defensive tactics is much smarter than trying to force her concentration into a box."

"She's not always going to have you around to drop it in her hand," Chloe argues, which is a very good point. "Don't make her dependent on your protection."

"Delly, draw the magic between your fingers like it's an accordion and it can expand," Maison instructs, also choosing to ignore the valid points. "Like that paper art your dad uses to decorate for Christmas."

Unfortunately, Delina completely understands that reference, and she sighs. "That's just a different sort of visualization," she says, then pokes at the magic with a finger.

A spark snaps between her finger and the chord, but a quick glance at Maison doesn't show any additional worry, so she shrugs it off, picking it up gingerly, testing to see if it can spread apart.

It does, a crackling, warping net, and she shudders.

"I mean, that might work," Chloe replies, tilting her head sideways to look at it, her eyes crossing slightly. "Looks more like a basic shield than anything else."

When she lifts her gaze to him, Maison's eyes glow red. "On a bigger level, it would confuse the hell out of a demon if she does it properly."

"Okay, I'll practice," Delina grinds out, and despite the chill of the air, her hands grow hot, like she laid out in the direct sun.

He scowls at her, and she lets the magic go with a snap.

He flinches at the abrupt motion. "Don't do that," he says, then hesitates, obviously torn, before the confident expression filters over him again. "Maybe do that if there's a demon in your face about to kill you. It's disorienting."

"Oooh, really?" Chloe asks, eager, and Delina reaches for the strip of magic again, her hand falling harmlessly through it. "How disorienting?"

"You know those flash bangs Gurlien used to do to startle people before doing a diagnostic? Like that." Maison shakes out his hands, grabs the strip again for Delina. "Except not physical."

"Ew," Chloe replies helpfully.

"Flash bang the demon, got it," Delina says, pulling the magic into the same net shape as before, though her fingertips crackle with sparks.

"Might give you a chance to run," Maison says, and briefly, ever so briefly, he meets her eyes. "Snap it large enough so they can't see you through their magic and most demons don't pay that much attention to the physical appearance."

Delina swallows, at the harsh reminder of the fate that could possibly befall her with a face to face with an actual demon, before she spreads the magic a bit further, until her hands are wider than her body.

Sparks swirl around her hand, nestling into her skin, and Chloe's breath hitches.

"Is that okay?" Chloe asks, her voice hushed. "That doesn't seem good."

"That's only not good if she's a spell weaver, don't worry," Maison replies, his eyes glowing as he evaluates her, before he obviously widens his stance, bracing himself. "Okay, let it go."

Delina raises an eyebrow, then, discomfort fitting inside her, snaps it.

There's a brief moment of surprise, of Maison's eyes widening and the golden power reflected in them, before he tumbles to the ground with a small ‘oof.'

Chloe stands there, completely unaffected, a puzzled look on her face.

"You okay?" Delina asks, as he awkwardly climbs back up, damp moss all on his pant legs. He's not in any pain, not that she can tell with a brief scan.

"Yeah, definitely do that if you come face to face with a demon," Maison grumbles, brushing himself off. "Not sure if it affected me more because I'm less powerful, or if it affected me less because I'm only half."

It bothers her a little, when he calls himself half, but she tosses it behind her. "Should we go in the basement where we can set up that padding?"

"I don't need padding," Maison shoots back, "don't knock me into a tree and I'm good."

She narrows her eyes at him, and he lifts his chin.

If he's getting competitive with it, so can she.

She reaches for the strip of magic again, and this time there's a little bit of resistance before her hand falls through it once more.

"Freddy…" Chloe trails off, at something in his face, before she throws up her arms once more. "This doesn't do anything except still make it so she has to run."

"But she has time to run now," Maison says, but he doesn't take his eyes off of Delina, as she tries to grab the magic again. "Stop thinking of it as something you pick up, that won't work."

"Thanks," Delina responds. "That's helpful."

"Think of it as a current in a stream, and you're grabbing some pine needles that are riding along the current," Maison says, and his gaze feels like fire against her, deep in her stomach.

He looked at her like this when he wanted to fuck her.

She swallows again, and tangles her fingertips against the strip, and his eyes flicker down to her lips before coming back to her eyes.

That one-minute motion is a spotlight to his wants.

It's strange that he would still look at her like that, now. That he would put on that face when he doesn't have to, look at her like he still is very much attuned to her body.

Her mouth goes dry.

"Delina?" Chloe asks, startling her so much that she almost drops her tenuous touch on the magic. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," she replies quickly, twisting the magic in her hand as fast as she can, then spreading it apart and snapping it together.

Maison reels back, stumbling but not falling, before he regains his footing. "That wasn't as powerful that time, do it again."

His words are back to clinical, like whatever moment never happened.