Picking up a cup made of copper and part of some animal’s skull, Tobias poured himself a measure of rum. He closed his eyes and took a long slug.
What would life have been like in Maremount if Rawhed had never come? He’d still be in the tall grasses by Athanor Pond, sipping sweet wine with Eden. He’d be learning spells with his old coven in the Cwag, or playing music in one of the Tatter taverns. Life hadn’t been perfect, but it was better than this hell.
He’s risked everything for Fiona. He’d given up his old life. He’d given up Eden for a suicidal lunatic. Fiona must have thought she was being noble saving Thomas, but they could have found another way out. There were only four Picaroons; a few sea demons against a fire demon, plus a whole pack of werewolves. Their odds would have been good if they’d worked together. Now that they’d taken her back to their ship, the odds were diminishing fast.
What in the blazes was she thinking? He might as well have left her to hang on the Tricephelus. She didn’t need Jack to turn her into a corpse, because she’d done it herself.
Tobias pulled the curtain aside, and stared out of Estelle’s mansion. Maybe the werewolf queen was right about Fiona’s dark side. Maybe Tobias didn’t know anything about her. Tonight she’d chosen death, which meant Eden’s death had been for nothing.
He took a long sip of rum, staring at the thick mists rolling over the darkened common. Her mom’s murder must have snapped her mind. But Tobias had lost his mother. He’d seen her lifeless body, and he was still here, fighting. He wasn’t about to throw himself at Emerazel’s mercy just yet.
The front door opened, and Estelle strode in, wearing a bronze gown and a smile. “Well. I guess I don’t have to worry about Nyxobas’s messenger anymore.”
Tobias had hardly eaten, and the rum had gone to his head. “For reasons that elude me, she decided to sacrifice herself.”
“She’s drawn to death. It’s in her nature. But even if you know I’m right, you’ll still end up flying over her ship to watch over her. That’s in your nature. Just don’t try to fight the sea demons. A ship of Picaroons against one fire demon isn’t a fair fight.”
Fiona was strong, and if anyone could make it through alive, it was her. He should have a little more faith in her. Maybe she wasn’t choosing death after all. “Is it true that some recruits live?”
“Fiona won’t be one of them.”
His shoulders tensed. “You don’t know her. She saved my life more than once.”
“I’m sick of talking about her.” Estelle crossed the living-room floor to him, her dark eyes locked on his. “Still curious about your fate, fire demon?”
“Oswald told me about the eternal hellfire.”
“Ah, there goes one of my bargaining chips.” Her lip twitched. “But I can tell you more. I can tell you how long you’ve got until they come for you.”
The hair rose on the back of his neck. “What do you mean? Who’s they?”
She sat down in one of her armchairs, her back slightly arched. “What will you do for me in return?”
“I’ll help you get into Maremount. We’ll help you find a new home for your pack.”
She frowned. “What are you talking about?”
He sat against the windowsill. “I know you can’t stay here. Your people are in danger, too. The Picaroons will keep taking more of you. But what if we join forces? You said the Throcknell army is coming for us. If we defeat them here, there will be no one left to keep us out of the city. We know how to get into Maremount instantly. You know how to create a veil that will keep out the Throcknell army. We lock them out, and Maremount is ours.”
She took a deep breath. “Now that is a bold proposition. How big is the army?”
“They were about two and a half thousand, but Rawhed cut them down. Maybe a thousand left. Oswald will know more.”
“There are eight hundred twenty-seven of us, plus a fire demon.” She licked her lips. “Fine. Maybe I’ll help you.”
“Who’s coming for me?”
“A hellhound. A demon who collects souls. All of the gods have them. Borgerith has Redcaps, Mishett-Ash has Valkyries, Nyxobas has Dark Lords. You get the idea. When someone is either foolish or desperate enough to carve themselves, one of these soul collectors comes for you. They force you to sign a contract, and the deal is sealed.”
He swallowed. “When will this happen?”
“When you turn eighteen. How long do you have?”
His chest tightened, and he drained the last of the rum. “Not long. Can the hellhounds get through the veil, just like the Picaroons?”
“They’re agents of the goddess. They can go where they want. And I’m afraid there’s more bad news. Your fire power won’t work against the hellhound, and he won’t relent until you sign.”
“What if I refuse?”
“Then he kills you, and you go straight to the inferno.”
“Only if the hellhound is stronger than I am.”
She flashed a quick smile. “He will be.”