Page 93 of Bedeviled

The last one is written in red. A shiver courses down my back.

I notice again how several of the rows have been crossed out.

“They don’t all live,” I say, my gaze flicking back to Memnon’s, my unspoken question hanging in the air between us.

Why?

“If they attack me or I see something in their minds that angers me,” Memnon says, “I don’t let them live. But sometimes even those whose lives I intend to spare don’t always make it. Not all hearts restart.”

I swallow as I stare at Memnon and hear his apathy.

He nods at me, presumably eavesdropping on my thoughts.

“This world,” he continues, “even the magical parts of it, is not so different from our old one,” he says softly. “It’s still largely run by wicked men who enjoy exerting power and pain on others. I don’t mind their deaths. Some I even relish.

“I am every bit a monster, est amage,” he says. “And if I were less of one, I would feel sorry that I am yours.”

I run my fingers over the names. “Well,” I say. “I wouldn’t.” My eyes lift to him. “Monster or not, I am glad you’re mine.”

CHAPTER 21

Nero and I don’t get back to Henbane Coven until Monday morning, just in time for Wards. I spend the next hour and a half dully listening to a lecture on the nuances of power and the craftmanship that goes into protective spells.

It’s about as riveting as it sounds.

“…which brings me to my next point,” Mistress Wormwood says now. “Just as languages vary, so too can magic.”

I doodle a Sarmatian dragon in the corner of my paper. Above it I’ve already written the word for it—draxa.

“Keep in mind,” my instructor continues, “that when you’re creating wards—as well as any other spells—they will not affect all supernatural beings equally.”

I shade in the broad lines and swirls of the dragon’s body, not much paying attention.

“Perhaps,” she continues, “your other instructors have gone over this, but in case they haven’t, here it is: we humans work with Earth-based magic. Beings from the Otherworld work with Otherworldly magic. The same goes for the Underworld—also known as Hell or Hades—and the Celestial plane as well. Each realm has its own unique magic. Sometimes this magic is quite similar to ours, and sometimes, it’s not.”

Something about her words has me pausing.

“There are entire courses here at Henbane dedicated to the study of other magics and magical systems,” Mistress Wormwood says, “but for the sake of our own studies, I will keep it simple: mortal, earthly magic is mildly effective on shades and specters. It is almost entirely ineffective on the fae⁠—”

My spine stiffens. Our magic is useless against the fae?

“—and with demons,” she continues, unaware that I’m suddenly very interested in her lecture, “well, our power is quite good, as long as you stay away from dark magic. If you use dark magic against a demon, they can actually draw energy from the spell—and it won’t hurt them.”

My doodles are all but forgotten now.

“However, there is an added complication,” Mistress Wormwood states. “I’ve spoken on our ability to use our magic on these beings. However, I haven’t spoken of what effect their magic has on us.”

She paces along the stage as she talks. “It might be of some reassurance that, for the most part, these other creatures have limited capabilities against us. Ghosts have magic, but it is immaterial and mostly incompatible with ours. They might possess a human here and there, but those are unusual circumstances. For the most part, they and their magic are benign.

“It’s a similar predicament for demons: yes, they have dark magic, and yes, they can use it to steal souls and also to possess victims, but beyond that, their magic is minimally effective against us. They’re dangerous mostly because of how minimal their magic is—they can get in a victim’s head and feed them lies, and because it is so covert and minor, a human might just believe those thoughts were their own. It’s terrible magic, but its power lurks in its outcome, not in its inception. Even some of the strongest demons such as incubi and succubi can only prey on us when we are asleep and our minds are vulnerable.

“There is one notable classification of supernaturals who do not have limited magical capabilities against us, and that is the fae. Their magic works incredibly well on us—much better than ours does on them. While one of our spells might work against them every once in a blue moon, theirs will work on us exactly as intended nearly every time.” Mistress Wormwood emphasizes this by hitting the side of one of her hands into the palm of her other, her wavy brown hair shifting with the gesture.

“It is worth noting, however,” she says, “that fae is an umbrella term that applies to all the creatures of the Otherworld. These beings wield various amounts of magic depending on the type of fae they are and, of course, how powerful they are. Like humans, not all of them can manipulate magic equally.

“And,” Mistress Wormwood adds, “this is not even delving into the discussion on their magic’s sentience, nor the rules that magic makes its wielder follow. Think of fae bargains and the belief that fairies cannot tell a lie—this folklore stems from real nuances to their magic.

“But again, these are discussions I’ll save for the more specialized courses here at Henbane. For now, just know that any wards you place will inevitably be vulnerable to the fae—should you ever encounter any.”