Love & Exorcisms | 18+ | COMPLETE |

- Chapter 67 -

Amma

There were few things the old woman hated more than being confined to her bed. The hours lying still made her ache, as if Death itself was tightening its grip on her bones. “You can’t take me yet, you wretched thing,” she muttered, bringing the hot cup of tea that Rachel had brought her to her lips. “I’m resting, not dying, damn you.”

Her rest was taking far longer than she wanted. She was not one to take ill: not from cold, nor wind, nor changing of the seasons. Certainly not from the sea’s saltine air. She knew the lingering cough and weakness had come about by the touch of a demon, of those inhabiting young Samara. She had experienced such a sickness before, but she had been much younger then, her body stronger and more keen to heal.

They meant to keep her down, those demon fiends. They knew her to be a threat and wanted her gone, or at least out of the way long enough to rope Samara fully under their control. She wished she had arrived in the city sooner. She wished she had been able to come at once, and set about helping the young woman before her possession had advanced to such a state.

She coughed heavily, setting aside her tea so as not to spill. There was no time for regrets now. The seals Samara had been bound with could be broken - but that battle that would follow to cast out the demons would be fierce. Attempting an exorcism without a name was like shouting into a crowd of thousands and hoping the right person knew you were talking to them. A name gave power: it was bound to a demon’s essence and commanded their being.

If it came to it...and time ran out...Belthazha would attempt it without their names. She had attempted it before, alone, and succeeded. But the demon had been weak, and now she faced four of great power. With Damian at her side, lending his strength to hers, they might yet succeed. But it was not something she wanted to risk, if she could help it. Especially not with Damian so attached to the woman. Could she trust him to do what he had to, if the time came? If all else failed…

She shook herself, and picked up her reading and sketches again. They would not fail. She could not allow it to be so. But the longer she poured over her books, her eyes beginning to sting and her vision grow blurred with weariness, the more her determination was failing. Research such as this took months - years. Time they did not have.

It was a desperate hope that had sent Damian and Samara out that day, to meet the Seer Margaux, the woman with an essence of fire and air, to see if she might put an end to their plight. The two of them had left only minutes ago, dressed for festivities although their mission was a serious one. How much hope did Belthazha dare put in a stranger? From what she could grasp of Margaux’s spirit, the woman did not seem a danger. But there were no sureties, not even for a Seer. Having Damian and Samara so far from her made her worry. She shoved away her books, and slid to the edge of the bed with a groan. She had to walk a bit, and ease the stiffness from her legs. Perhaps the exercise would stimulate her mind as well, for it seemed cloaked in a perpetual fog.

Four demons. Four seals.

She contemplated as she paced, up and down the room. The world outside was wet and gray, the fire keeping her room warm beginning to gutter. She paused to toss another log upon the smoldering coals, the thought putting her in mind of the reaper Kiiji, who had appeared to her in such a fire so many years ago. The reaper who would save Damian, then only a child. The reaper who followed him still, awaiting his death after all these years…

His eyes fixed in a blank stare. Betrayal. Pain. Blood rushing down his chest.

She shook herself sharply, taken aback. The vision had been sudden, sharp and intrusive. The sight of Damian - injured, dying - made her breath feel cold in her chest. She had seen it before, she feared it. Death by the hands of one he trusted, one he was so willing to sacrifice himself for.