Read Online Dark Light of Day by Jill Archer - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jill Archer
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Ivy and I would hit the books until early morning, sleep for a few hours, and then get up the next day to do it all over again. Our entire world was quickly reduced to four buildings and one hundred people.
It was impossible, since he was one of the one hundred people, to stop thinking about Ari entirely. Occasionally I wondered if he would keep his word and not declare for me. I had no further incidents with plants, other Maegesters, or losses of control, and I never saw my name put up on the Maegester’s List outside Waldron Seknecus’ door, so I had to assume my cover was still holding. Around the second week of classes, my magic stopped flaring up around Ari. Maybe it was constant proximity; maybe it was a lack of reciprocity. I knew I shouldn’t miss the flare-ups, but I did. It seemed like the connection between us had been broken. But it was stupid to mourn for something I’d never had and, besides, hadn’t I told him I wanted nothing to do with him?
During the third week of school, Peter called me. The electro-harmonic machine that had been installed on the wall of our dorm room had to have been one of the first five ever made. Connections were often horrible, even on the newest machines, but this one made Peter sound like he was calling from under the Lethe, not across it.
“—on, ss— Peter. How—” Static burst from the receiver so loudly I had to hold it away from my ear, which precluded me from hearing the next ten words Peter said.
“Peter!” I yelled into the box on the wall. “It’s a bad connection!”
When weren’t they?
“I can’t hear you—”
But his connection must have been even worse because he just kept talking. I knew if I didn’t calm down and listen, I’d burn the box right off the wall.
“—ou? ’z… ’ell Holding up?… I—”
After seven dropped connections and as many call backs I finally understood that Peter wasn’t coming as planned. It was impossible to hear his entire explanation. But the gist of it seemed to be he’d found a new lead and he was staying in Etincelle to pursue it. He’d contact me (hopefully by letter, messenger, or in person!) once he was here in New Babylon.
In an effort to distract myself from the constant anxiety created by Peter’s absence and what it might mean, I threw myself into my classes with renewed vigor. I stopped back benching and joined Ivy and Fitz in the middle rows. I participated more and my answers were articulate. I stopped verbally stumbling when I didn’t know the answer and got better at modifying my arguments midsentence. Verdicts that had seemed unfair or illogical on the first day of class became clear when reread within the context of the entire body of law known as demon law.
Under demon law, rules were gods not to be crossed. Lucifer was king and in his absence no other demon could take his place. Halja—our very existence—depended on following, to the letter, the rules laid down in the aftermath of Armageddon, the last battle of the Apocalypse. Halja’s
regulare
demons were capable of wreaking havoc, but they knew what they were about. They did not want chaos or anarchy. They’d had enough of that prior to Armageddon. Now, all they wanted was adoration. So the
regulare
demons and their Maegesters set up a very strict form of government. No clemency, no leniency, no second chances—that is if you’re a demon.
If you’re a Hyrke though, pick a demon to appeal to. They
loved
that. They
lived
for that. A demon wanted you to state your case, they wanted to hear your pleas, they wanted to aid in your defense. So most Hyrke families appealed to a single hearth demon. It was kind of like an inherited deity-client relationship. Hyrkes almost never saw their hearth demon. But so long as a Hyrke’s pleas were respectfully spoken and accompanied by the required sacrifice, pleas were usually granted. Problems happened when demons started fightingover their Hyrke clients—or anything else. That’s when the
It was impossible, since he was one of the one hundred people, to stop thinking about Ari entirely. Occasionally I wondered if he would keep his word and not declare for me. I had no further incidents with plants, other Maegesters, or losses of control, and I never saw my name put up on the Maegester’s List outside Waldron Seknecus’ door, so I had to assume my cover was still holding. Around the second week of classes, my magic stopped flaring up around Ari. Maybe it was constant proximity; maybe it was a lack of reciprocity. I knew I shouldn’t miss the flare-ups, but I did. It seemed like the connection between us had been broken. But it was stupid to mourn for something I’d never had and, besides, hadn’t I told him I wanted nothing to do with him?
During the third week of school, Peter called me. The electro-harmonic machine that had been installed on the wall of our dorm room had to have been one of the first five ever made. Connections were often horrible, even on the newest machines, but this one made Peter sound like he was calling from under the Lethe, not across it.
“—on, ss— Peter. How—” Static burst from the receiver so loudly I had to hold it away from my ear, which precluded me from hearing the next ten words Peter said.
“Peter!” I yelled into the box on the wall. “It’s a bad connection!”
When weren’t they?
“I can’t hear you—”
But his connection must have been even worse because he just kept talking. I knew if I didn’t calm down and listen, I’d burn the box right off the wall.
“—ou? ’z… ’ell Holding up?… I—”
After seven dropped connections and as many call backs I finally understood that Peter wasn’t coming as planned. It was impossible to hear his entire explanation. But the gist of it seemed to be he’d found a new lead and he was staying in Etincelle to pursue it. He’d contact me (hopefully by letter, messenger, or in person!) once he was here in New Babylon.
In an effort to distract myself from the constant anxiety created by Peter’s absence and what it might mean, I threw myself into my classes with renewed vigor. I stopped back benching and joined Ivy and Fitz in the middle rows. I participated more and my answers were articulate. I stopped verbally stumbling when I didn’t know the answer and got better at modifying my arguments midsentence. Verdicts that had seemed unfair or illogical on the first day of class became clear when reread within the context of the entire body of law known as demon law.
Under demon law, rules were gods not to be crossed. Lucifer was king and in his absence no other demon could take his place. Halja—our very existence—depended on following, to the letter, the rules laid down in the aftermath of Armageddon, the last battle of the Apocalypse. Halja’s
regulare
demons were capable of wreaking havoc, but they knew what they were about. They did not want chaos or anarchy. They’d had enough of that prior to Armageddon. Now, all they wanted was adoration. So the
regulare
demons and their Maegesters set up a very strict form of government. No clemency, no leniency, no second chances—that is if you’re a demon.
If you’re a Hyrke though, pick a demon to appeal to. They
loved
that. They
lived
for that. A demon wanted you to state your case, they wanted to hear your pleas, they wanted to aid in your defense. So most Hyrke families appealed to a single hearth demon. It was kind of like an inherited deity-client relationship. Hyrkes almost never saw their hearth demon. But so long as a Hyrke’s pleas were respectfully spoken and accompanied by the required sacrifice, pleas were usually granted. Problems happened when demons started fightingover their Hyrke clients—or anything else. That’s when the
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