Within the Bone

XII. An Awakening

Mara sat on the edge of the steps leading up to the nook that was her new home, knees pulled up to her chest with her arms wrapped around them. Staring down into the endless possibilities of the library and its collected knowledge stirred at her mind, but everything felt so heavy. She'd left tears behind years ago, mostly because her damaged dignity refused to give others the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

Caliban had announced that Sammael was finishing up his most recent experiment, which Mara assumed meant the demon would approach shortly to line out what he expected from her. It was their second day in his hidden home, most of which had just been spent recovering. The food wasn't terrible, though Mara knew she could cook better than Caliban and planned on doing so in the future.

Arms slipped around Mara from behind and a warmth pressed against her back. Aallotar had arrived to end the gloom, resting her chin on Mara's shoulder. "You look sorrowed."

"Sorrowful," Mara corrected, a hint of a smile touching her lips. She took a deep breath and sighed, sensing Aallotar's unspoken question without needing to see the wildling's face. "I never really thought I would leave Sjaligr. Not forever. Not like this."

"You are free of a place that was killing your soul," Aallotar pointed out gently. "And you are not alone."

"True." Mara leaned back slightly into the hug with a more comfortable sigh. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You would forever brood," Aallotar said with soft reproach in her stilted speech, prodding Mara gently in the ribs. "This has much awful to it."

"I'm not exactly sunshine and rainbows on my best days," the huntress pointed out.

"You smile for me," Aallotar countered, giving Mara a squeeze before letting go. "That is enough."

Mara smiled despite herself at that, turning to face her friend. "You really aren't going to let me sulk, are you?"

"Never," Aallotar said emphatically.

From the depths of the shelving below, Sammael's harsh, metallic voice called out the summons Mara had been waiting for. "SPELL-BREAKER, I DESIRE YOUR PRESENCE."

"We'd better not keep him waiting," Mara murmured as she stood up. She looked hesitantly at her friend. "Do you want to come? I understand if you'd rather not."

"I will not leave you to face the demon alone," Aallotar said staunchly. "Nor do I wish to be the beast."

As much as Mara wanted to joke about Aallotar taking the opportunity to eat Caliban, she knew not to press. Her friend was still deeply traumatized by what had happened in Sjaligr and the insanity and agony of beast form was not something she ever wanted Aallotar to feel again. "Alright," she said, linking her arm through Aallotar's. "Let's see what the plan is."

Sammael waited beside a long table covered in tomes and notes written in delicate handwriting. He could retract his claws and write with a sensitive touch, well-suited for more scholarly pursuits. For the first time since they had met, however, he showed his true form without any of the wrappings and Mara almost shrank back in terror at the sight.

The demon's body was a twisted mass of metal, smooth chunks blending with silver tubes that pumped something dark like blood through veins. Now that he walked straighter, he stood six-and-a-half feet tall. His short muzzle was full of needle-like teeth that were hollow and his face was carved to be that of some horrible monster with a rictus grin and three angular obsidian eyes, one at the center of his forehead. His legs were digitigrade, like a wolf's or a dog's rather than a human's, and ended in paw-like feet with long, lethal claws to match those on his hands. Like his teeth, his razor-sharp claws were hollow. Sammael was able to produce agonizing, deadly venom of some kind and all his natural weapons could deliver it.