He glanced at me, something sparking in his eyes. “Maybe not as influential as they once were. I’ve been working on weakening them.” He looked down at his hands. “The blood is from two demon hunters. I wanted answers about who’s trying to frame me, and who’s working with the mortals.”
I sucked in a deep breath. “Did you get any?”
“Not about those questions. But I learned something much more important.” His pale eyes met mine. “I learned the location of something I want very much. The Grimorium Verum.” A small smile curled his lips. “Finding that book will be our next trial.”
A dark, unsettled feeling snaked up my neck. “Why is this book so important?”
He held my gaze for a long time. “According to the book of Demonic Trials, I’m not required to tell you anything about it, but I will because the book is more important to me than the crown. Because if I lose these trials, it will be your job to protect our city, and you will need this, Rowan. The grimoire is the very thing that keeps us locked in here. It contains the spell that makes our magic fade after a few days out of the city walls or trapped in the dungeons. The spell that sends us into the underworld if we stray too far. The Grimorium Verum will set us free. And it’s locked in the demon hunters’ headquarters in Sudbury.”
Whoever controlled that grimoire would hold the fate of the mortal world in their hands.
Clearly, it would be safer in mine. “Why open the city gates when we know where to find the demon hunters now? They’re the ones we need to kill, not the rest of the mortals. If we can take out the demon hunters, maybe we avert the war.” I breathed in deeply. “You’re reducing their influence? Maybe we could make them disappear.”
“I need to unlock the curse with which the mortals saddled us.”
“And without the curse, the demons could feed on mortals indiscriminately. Isn’t that how it was in the old days? I think you were the person who told me that. Hunting them. Drinking their blood. Feeding off lust or sadness or gluttony.”
He heaved a sigh. “I can’t say I ever experienced that myself. But as king, I could order the demons not to hunt if it would keep the peace.”
I swallowed hard. “But you’re singularly dedicated to your revenge oath.”
“Maybe, as you said, I could satisfy myself with killing the demon hunters. They were the mortals in charge when the Lilu were slaughtered.” He cocked his head. “But we need the control in our hands, and not the mortals’。 With the grimoire, we can turn back the clock to before it all happened.” Sorrow shone in his blue eyes. “We could be safe again. And we could destroy the dungeons.”
I got the sense that all this was his way of trying to find his way back to his family. “Turn back the clock,” I repeated. “That sounds nice.”
Silence spread between us, broken only by the rustling of the wind through the trees.
“What was life like for you before the mortals came?” I asked after a few moments.
He flashed me a sad smile. “When I was a boy? I just wanted to be Molor, my older brother. He looked like me, but bigger. He was brilliant with a sword. Indestructible.” A line formed between his eyebrows. “Or so I thought. He was only thirteen. But he seemed so much older. He could play the lute, and he could draw monsters. He once shot a stag out in the Elysian Wilderness. He was a real man. So I wanted to be him because he could do anything. And I also wanted to run a bakery with bread pudding because I could never get enough of it, so I thought I might as well control the whole supply.”
I smiled at him. “Molor.” I could imagine two beautiful silver-haired boys, one a tiny version of the other.
“It’s hard to imagine, but after a while in the dungeon, I envied him. I felt like my brother died quickly, and I’d died so slowly. I was a Lightbringer, so I was hard to kill. But Molor died a hero, and I didn’t. Not at all.” He stared down at his hands again. “I always think of him as fully grown, but when I went home again, I saw how much I was mistaken.” When he looked up at me, his eyes were shining. “And I don’t feel as jealous anymore. Because I’m here with you now, and he’s not.” A sad smile played over his lips.
I felt my cheeks flushing, and I brushed a silver strand from his eyes.
“What were you like as a child?” he asked.
“Dreamy. Always in a book, lost in thought. And as soon as I learned what a psychologist was, that was what I wanted to be. In my psychology classes, at the start of the year, we would always go around the room and say why we wanted to study it. Everyone, one after the other, said it was because they wanted to help people. If I were a better person, I’m sure I would have thought the same. But I think I was just fucking nosy.” I smiled. “I wanted to hear everyone’s stories, and that’s what psychologists do. You sit and listen to them talk about their lives. And my life always seemed so stifling at home. I wanted to know about everyone else’s. Mom was…” I trailed off, my chest tight.