She glanced back at the pillars, brow crinkled.
“That’s it, isn’t it? Your court is losing their memories. And in the wreckage, somehow tearing each other apart.”
She wasn’t looking at him. Like she knew if she did it would be too hard for him to respond.
He remained still, silent. Waiting for her to piece more together. After a moment, she continued.
“The artifact you’re after, somehow that will stop the memory loss and whatever is making them attack one another. That’s why you need to win the game. Your court is falling apart, literally ripping itself apart in the process.”
Envy ran a hand through his hair, pacing away.
“I wouldn’t say falling apart. Fuck.”
That was exactly what was happening.
He walked away, shaking his head. Camilla watched him silently, allowing him time to speak without prompting.
Envy had been holding on to this secret for so long, he didn’t know how to let it go.
He stopped pacing.
“Like all demons in each House of Sin, my court isn’t immortal like me and my brothers, but even being long-lived is not without its complications.”
Camilla gave him a wry smile. “Mm.”
“To sum it up succinctly. Yes. My court is failing. Every few hundred years or so they need to purge memories in order to make new ones. A problem mortals wouldn’t understand. There are… complications when they aren’t able to purge. Namely, they begin forgetting. Overloaded, they confuse delusion with reality. Friend becomes foe. Everyone poses a danger.”
Understanding flickered in her gaze.
“If they can’t remember or make new memories, they cannot fuel their sin of choice, either.”
He gave her a bittersweet smile. She was much too clever indeed.
“Which in turn cannot fuel my power,” he added softly, for the first time confessing the full scope of what he’d been facing.
The chalice was the missing piece. Envy had inadvertently given it up more than two centuries before, and every year since, they’d been slowly losing power.
Then the game had begun, and things had gotten worse.
Camilla did not gasp or pity him. She was suddenly beside him, grabbing his arm, squeezing it firmly.
Silver eyes flashed like lightning, her words just as striking.
“You’re going to win.”
His mouth curved into a faint smile. “I never should have lost to begin with.”
“Don’t blame yourself.”
“It was my fault. I gave up the Chalice of Memoria, setting everything in motion.”
He wished he could take that action back. It was one of the few regrets he’d ever had.
“It’s a long story,” he added, noting her continued look. “We don’t have time for it now.”
“We absolutely do,” she said. “I think I solved the clue. But I need to know what you’re really after before I hand over whatever prize you’re seeking.”
He knew she wasn’t lying, so he finally gave in and told her the whole story.
“Without the Chalice of Memoria to offload memories, eventually my court will weaken to extinction, my rule will weaken, and my circle will be susceptible to being absorbed by another more powerful circle or sin. The chaos of a circle falling… let’s just say it would give the Unseelie King an opening to create more discord in our realm.”
He exhaled.
“There are two objects needed to set things to rights. The Chalice of Memoria, and the Aether Scrolls.”
Camilla remained silent, listening.
“I loaned the Chalice of Memoria to the mortal I was involved with. It was a silly request—she wished to drink from it on her birthday, be the envy of her friends.”
“She knew your sin.”
He nodded.
“It was only supposed to be gone for a few hours, so I didn’t see the harm. I should have. I knew what losing it would mean to my court. Instead of a small gathering with her mortal friends, she brought it to Faerie that night. When she died, Lennox found it and discovered its value.”
“She sounds like she was selfish.”
He lifted a shoulder. “Aren’t we all sometimes?”
Camilla pursed her lips, looking like she had a lot more to say on the matter but wouldn’t.
His sin ignited, flaring with her burst of jealousy. It fueled him, healing some of his wounds. Camilla misunderstood his defense.
Envy did not care for the mortal; he refused to even speak her name. He simply didn’t view her selfishness as her worst sin.
“What do the scrolls do?” Camilla asked.
“It helps to fully understand the chalice first. The Chalice of Memoria is carved with symbols and runes. So it not only siphons memories, but when activated properly can grant immortality, strike an enemy down, or give someone infinite wealth. Or anything else they desire. It is an object of immense and terrible power that predates even the oldest demons in the realm. The Aether Scrolls contain the spells needed to activate the chalice.”
“All the players were after the same prize, then.”
Envy lifted a shoulder. “The Chalice of Memoria can become anything for anyone, making it unique to any individual. I imagine that’s why Lennox used it.”
“Why can’t you give your court memory stones to help?”
“That would be rather convenient, wouldn’t it?” He gave her a wistful smile. “Memory stones only work when the person purging the memory recalls what they’d like to forget with clarity. Since the memory fog started, my court cannot recall in enough detail. Even though it’s been a slow descent into madness, when it first started, we weren’t prepared. The fog only lasted for a few moments, easily passed off as tiredness. It wasn’t until things got much worse that I understood. Then it was too late to offload any memories to the memory stones.”
Camilla seemed as frustrated by that as he had been.
“Who has the scrolls?”
He hesitated. This was information even his second-in-command didn’t know.
“I do. But… I can’t access them now.”
“Why not?”
“Because I cannot summon my wings.”
“Expand on ‘cannot summon’ them, please.”
“My wings are still there, under my skin, waiting. Sometimes the need to summon them… is uncomfortable. But I can’t risk it. Yet. I do not have enough power to hold my court together at the same time. Especially when seeing Lennox is inevitable. I cannot waste an ounce of reserves before I fight him.”
“And how do your wings relate to the scrolls?”
He thought of the single emerald feather Lennox had sent him, the mockery of the gesture. “After the chalice was stolen, I had the scrolls fused with my wings to keep them out of enemy hands. Think of them like invisible tattoos, I suppose. It’s an ancient demon trick.”
Camilla stared, stunned. “You’ve had access to them this whole time?”
“Not truly. As my court weakens, so does my power. And they mean nothing without the chalice.”
“But you fought those beasts and the vampire prince,” she argued. “How is your power that diminished?”
“Brute force, darling. Not magic.”
“What about the Hexed Throne?”