For once, I shared a carriage with a Montague who wasn’t Gregory.

  Elise Montague was very much like her brother, mainly in the sense I’d had to remind myself thriow that staring into someone else’s eyes could be sidered rude at best, creepy at worst, and….who knows what when the person iion had seen you chewing your way through a cow’s stomach.

  Please let her not ask any strange questions like that idiotic pack of noble brats from the party. Or anythied to said cows.

  “So,” Elise finally said, breaking the silence. “You and my brother seem...close.”

  You know, suddenly, idiotic questions about my race seemed much more patable. Or even the cows.

  “I suppose we are close,” I said. “He’s been of great help with the iigation, and since I’m part of that, it only makes sehat we’ve been w together.”

  “W together includes going off in a er to….have quiet private versations?” Elise Montague asked me.

  “I…well, it started as a private, quiet versation,” I muttered. “I noticed your band was definitely not full-time servants, and I was right t attention to it. For all that, it helped in the end.”

  “I have to ask, are you normally this bashful?” Elise said. “I could uand it over some things, but just the idea of being kissed sends you into iptions makes you seem so i.”

  I twitched, something rising to the surface as if responding to the challenge of those words.

  “My st retionship ended about six years ago,” I told her. “And no, I wasn’t that bashful over it, outside of the times we had to hide the bite marks we left on each other.”

  Elise seemed a little lost for words at that. “Biting?”

  “Yes, biting. We probably did more of that than kissing, now that I think about it.”

  Skall had never cked passion. That ended up being the issue. Passion and diabolism did not mix well. Elise stammered a bit, suddenly looking less fident than she had just a few seds ago.

  “Do you mean like on the dan floor when the Infernal-I mean the ruffians invaded?”

  “You call them Infernals,” I said, with a bit of fatigue in my voice. “And no, not like that. I’m not a praying mantis. I do people I’m ying with.”

  I hoped that ination to p into someohroat had just been the Imp, making its appetites known.

  She at least seemed willing to move to a different topic of versation.

  “I’m a little surprised you were willing to help out with this,” I said. “Your brother has the reputation as the bck sheep, was my uanding. Or have I fallen in with aire flock with bck wool?”

  “Varying levels of gray,” she said, smirking. “Some darker than reg is just a little more indiscreet with his defiahan the rest of us. Although with Father...he’s taken a foul turly. Fouler with everyohat he used to be. Before this, it was just messing with father, little acts of rebellion. I’m sure you’ve had simir feelings.”

  My lips quirked. “I didn’t know my father. I still don’t, not really.”

  My iions with the creature involved in my birth could best be described as mostly reying messages to the child he actually cared about.

  “Oh,” she said, cheeks flushing. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stir up any unpleasant memories. Is he dead?”

  “Not dead, just not very involved,” I said, not wanting to tell the truth that he was a devil, or worse, a damn noble among the Hells. “He’s far away and doesn’t really visit or unicate much. So, the urge to disobey never happeo me. It would o involve someone who gave me orders to obey.”

  “Ah, I see,” she said. “Sadly, I ot rete. Sihe moment I could talk, Father’s been busy trying to pn out my life for me. So, every little ce at a minor bit of rebellion seemed tantalizing. I suppose this is a fair bit bigger than minor, though.”

  “A fair bit,” I echoed. “If you get caught in this-”

  “Don’t try to talk me out of it,” she interrupted. “I’ve already decided to it to this little adventure, so don’t try to sway me away. Besides, it’s a little te for that.”

  It was not, and her sidering this an adventure was a little warning sign I had not needed.

  “There’s a few pces we could stop this before now,” I said. “But point taken. Gregory being the most indiscreet though. Could you expand on that some, perhaps?”

  “Miss Harrow,” Elise said. “Are y to ask me about my brother’s sordid past? What would your question be? ecifically does he like to eat?”

  I froze, theured out a cautious “Yes?”

  “I suppose I have some things I could share regarding both those questions,” she said. “First, there are the ies-”

  “He already mentiohose,” I said automatically. “Mentioned he didn’t much care for them?”

  An awkward silence filled the carriage as I realized what I’d said and tried not to throw myself out of the carriage. Then Elise burst out ughing.

  “Yes, yes, he does not,” she said. “I won’t talk about the circumstances in which I found that out, but yes. We talk about it more, but two things first.”

  “Yes?”

  “First, I want more of your measure before I decide if I want to help. It would hardly do for me to set you up only to discover you eating him like you do your beef.”

  Oh, Hells.

  “I..that….” my voice trailed off. “There’s more to that than what may have been apparent.”

  “Diabolical rituals, no doubt,” Elise said. “A lot mruesome and involving a lot less nudity than rumor would have you believe.”

  Thankfully so, I could not begin to imagine what would have happened if I’d been in anythihan clothing from o hoof when that had happened.

  “But more importantly, we are at our destination.”

  The building outside the carriage was taller than even Lord Montague’s estate, pilrs t overhead, merely for decoration oside of the building. Made out of marble, the royal crest was carved into the ter, a tiger’s r head over crossed swords.

  “It’s underh the tral Bank of Anglea?” I asked incredulously. “You built it underh the biggest bank iy?”

  “More like they built their bank on top of our Archives,” Elise said. “Acc to Father, at least. I wouldn’t put it past him to make that up. Anything to fluff the family name and his own ego. e on in.”

  The inside of the bank was just as grand as the outside. The tral chamber was massive, with a vaulted roof over a hundred feet above our heads. Finely dressed people milled about, some of them waiting in the lobby while others were in animated discussions with the tellers.

  The bank was one of the remaining legacies of Her Most Profane Majesty. They’d doheir best to scrub any traces of her influence over it, jokes about keeping the demonigituo Greed active in its underground chambers aside. No matter how much of it had been redohough, everyone knew who’d established it to help fund her wars with..well, most everyoowards the end there.

  Whatever else she had been, ambitious was definitely one of those things.

  “Follow me,” Elise muttered, heading to one of the tellers who was not dealing with a bank patron.

  “Ah, Lady Montague,” he said, looking over, eyes dismissio focus on Elise as he bowed. “Here on business with the bank today?”

  “I ’t think of another reason why I would be here, Mr. Crowley,” she replied smiling. “I’d like to make a withdrawal from my at uhe Queen’s Fifth Navy Bond At?”

  His smile seemed to fade just a little. “Ah, but of course. You know that all transas from that at must be handled by the managers. One moment. Aleister! Please guide Lady Montague and her guest to the vault for the Fifth Bond Navy At.”

  A band guard nodded, ing around and leading us through a set of hallways and offices. Initially, they were packed with people, but those rapidly thinned out till we were headed down a narrow flight of stairs. A guard waited at a pin wooden door, looking curiously at us both.

  “Lady Montague and a stranger,” he said. “Who might yuest be, Lady Montague, that you wish to take them into the Archives?”

  “This is Petrou Xides from Illtaea,” Elise said. “She reached out to me a few weeks back about researto the expedition into deeper Illtaea? The ohat recovered the Aedolian steps, among other artifacts, and brought them here for safekeeping? One of her aors was one of the local guides hired for the expedition, and I promised her I’d let her take a look at the ats.”

  “She’s not here to try ahem back, is she?” One of the guards asked in an irritated tone.

  I gave him a bnk, bnd smile, trying to appear dull as he looked me over.

  “The ats or the artifacts?” Elise replied. “She’s not here to steal either, Johnathan. Just looking into her family history.”

  “Where did you meet her?” He asked. “And before you say anything mi’dy, you know these questions are required for all visitors. Please just ahe questions.”

  A few minutes passed as the cover identity I’d crafted and then shared with Elise Montague got tested to its limits. Where we’d met? I got in at a social event hosted by a friend of Elise’s because I was a servant of another friend.

  From what the Montagues had told me, the first yer of the archives was filled with books avaible publicly, records, and other such papers not really protected by any secrecy. Petrou was being brought here as a favor to Elise’s friend so that she didn’t o check every single library iy to find it. It took less time than I expected before we were told to enter.

  I walked through the doorway, tensing as I made my way through. The ces of it pig up on the Diabolism in my leg past the yers of skin, flesh, and bone were negligible, but they did exist.

  I made it through with nothing . One hurdle overe.

  “Y alright?” The guard asked me. “Looked like you didn’t want to put much weight on it on your way through.”

  He could tell that? Damnations.

  “Just these old joints, I’m afraid,” I replied. “Never been the same after I turned forty, and it’s been raining too much retly. Moisture makes them even harder to bend.”

  It seemed to satisfy his curiosity, and well, that didn’t o st lohan a day.

  We emerged into a maze. Bookshelves were oher side, the passage between barely wide enough for the two of us to fit side-by-side.

  “This is one of the side entrances, not the main one,” Elise said as we moved in, our escort from the bank following closely behind. “I figured a more private entrance would work better. I know you don’t like crowds.”

  To be accurate, I didn’t like showing off my disguise to a slew of people in case they entered me in a pce I shouldn’t have been. Unfamiliarity was a valuable shield in those situations.

  “It’s much appreciated,” I responded as we walked through the maze of bookshelves. Lanterns lit us up overhead, thirty feet tall and just above the bookshelves crammed with literature. Clearly, there was some kind anizational system, but we didn’t slow down enough for me to even guess what it might be.

  Eventually we emerged inter room, several table there with people reading, many of them in red clothing. Elise went to one, and began talking to them.

  Elise requested a private room for us to go over the records. Some finagling was o get a specifie, an argument that because of my joints, we’d prefer ohat was closer to the entrance. She argued for one she was familiar with and got it fast. We were soon in a small room with a series of chairs, reading desks, and a single small table we both settled down at, along with several records we’d collected. We’d mao shed the bank’s escort ing

  We settled into p over those old records and other books. The occasional spot of tea while doing this led to a good discussion, during which I learhat Elise definitely did not share her brother’s peculiarities with tea.

  An hour into our stay, a staff member opehe door and asked if we needed anything else. Elise made it clear we didn’t, and after some polite versation, the archivist left.

  As soon as they left, Elise ractically bursting with energy. She began to rise for her seat, only for me to look sternly at her until she sat back down. I passed over a piece of paper.

  Not yet. They might hang around. Five minutes.

  Mind you, five minutes was hardly the time I would have waited. I figured any more would be too long to wait for the overexcited Montague. She seemed far too excited to be involved in matters like this. If I’d known she’d be like this, I would have maybe asked for Henry instead. I doubted someone who’d seen a battlefield would be this excited or bsé.

  After five minutes passed, Montague rose from her seat and at least restricted herself to hand signals. She gestured towards one of the bookshelves, and I got up and followed.

  A few mimed instrus ter, we carefully moved the bookshelf away from the wall, making small movements to minimize the noise since we could lift it entirely from the floor. We’d moved all the books off it into carefully piled stacks, ready to be put ba when needed.

  It took time, but as it moved further back, I could see more of what y behind—specifically, a square hole in the wall ly carved out.

  “How have you kept the staff from finding out?” I asked in a whisper as we moved the bookshelf further away from the entra looked like it was about waist high, which would have been difficult for my leg, but it was not impossible.

  “Oh, they know it’s here,” Elise said. “It’s how they sneak in things past the guards. e rendezvous. Well, it used to be. It’s been sealed si was discovered about four years ago.”

  I sighed. “I don’t know what’s worse, that you wao sehrough a secret passage the staff already knew about or that it's blocked off. Pray tell, how am I supposed to get past it?”

  “Oh, we reope a while back, Gregory, Henry, William, myself, and a couple of our sisters you haven’t met yet,” Elise said. “We put a false facade up front in order to keep it from being discovered, but it’s easy enough to remove. e on, in you go.”

  I stared at the opened-up crawlspace with no small amount of hesitation. “You are certain no one else will be here besides you while I’m gone?”

  I’d already had my doubts about this. The staff knowing about arahat lead further ihe archives? Even if they thought it sealed off, that was a little too risky for my blood.

  “Oh, I’m certain,” Elise said. “They already checked an ho, remember? They don’t check that often, especially with hoeople visit these parts of the archives. It’s not like this part is a secret, except from the public.”

  An iing way of phrasing that, but I let it pass as I sidered the tunnel. Dark. I wish someone had mentiohat when we’d phis out.

  “I’m going to o see in there,” I muttered. “Do you have a mp?”

  Elise blinked. “I….you’re an Infernal? ’t you see in the dark?”

  I should have guessed. “I ot. And we’ll also have to deal with my clothes. They’ll be dirty going through this once, let alowice. Another issue to solve. you check outside for any kind of ntern?”

  A missing ntern might be noticed, but that struck me as better than crawling through the darkness. Especially if opening the far side requires more than just pushing.

  Eventually, she came back with a small, tiny little thing that wasn’t much bigger than her hand. I eyed it skeptically.

  “It was on a table,” she said. “I think the Archivists use it at night?”

  The archivists must not require much light at all, if this little thing was suffit. Sighing, I grabbed it, and leg already ag in anticipation of what was to e, bent down to crawl into the tunnel.

  ***

  I would spend a few hours outside the moment we were out of here. Not doing anything. Just...enjoying the light. And the sky. And not feeling like a fish crammed into a tin like they packaged them up at the docks. Sometimes, they didn’t kill the catch before they did that; they just took living fish and shoved them in, sealed it shut, ahe poor creature die in utter darkness, squirming against a dozen of its fellows.

  Peering into the Are helped some with the dark as I pushed through. The tiny ntern helped a little more. I still couldn’t see more than five feet in front of my face. Worse, I could hear things moving outside, the trotting of boots on the floor. Sometimes loud enough, I could swear they must be right outside this little tunnel.

  How long was this damn thing? I felt like I’d been in here for half an hour. In truth, probably much less. I was far, far out of practice at this as I eyed the ceiling. Lingering doubts of it colpsing on me had haunted me since I’d ehis tunnel.

  Every inch felt like a mile as the still air smothered me. It felt tighter than it had been when I’d entered. Had it gotten tighter? I felt like I was being shoved into a shrinking hole, even though there ace for two of me side-by-side.

  I paused, catg a glimmer of light where none should be. I focused on where I’d spotted it, and then it repeated itself. Like a refle of light on a spider’s thread, red and green are energy woven very finely.

  A trap.

  They’d gone cheap with this trap, having it run only on a single axis. A wire of magining from top to bottom. It would break at the lightest touch, but if I could avoid it, I should be fine.

  A very big if, I thought to myself. Bum leg, and I’d made myself wider to at for extra mass when I’d shortened myself. I pressed up against a wall on my side, eye ohread. Make sure my good leg was the one on the floor. I kept the ntern ahead of me, then began moving. Bend my knees a little, use it to push forward an inch.

  I repeated that motion, eyes focused ohread. There was so much to bance: pain in my leg, weight threatening to tip me forward, and the feeling of dust irritating my nose and trying to tempt a s of me.

  Eventually, I made it through, the bottom of my bio-sculpted foot and the prosthetiy hoof clearing past. I kept on my side, getting at least three feet of distahen, I went bato my hands and knees and tio crawl.

  Eventually, the tunnel ended in the smooth wooden back of a walnut bookshelf.

  I pushed against the back. It should just be a facade. Perhaps it swung open, or maybe it was just hollow? Or a cut-out se?

  I shouldn’t hope after that arm

  The bookshelf refused to move. It refused to even budge, and it felt like pushing against a wagon loaded with stone. Sideways. Cursing, I pulled the ntern forward, looking over the seams where the tunnel met the bookshelf.

  There was something stig out along the upper one, and my fingers gripped it. It was a folded up piece of paper, and I gingerly pulled it out, unfurling it and bringing it to the mplight.

  My Children,

  William took it upon himself, out of guilt, to expily how you have been vioting the security of our family’s greatest charge. He has told me about how all of you pressured him into doing this, and enced me to enact a most terrible punishment. However, I am feeling generous today, so instead, your climbing back through this cramped little space will be punishment enough. For an immediate punishment at least. One of you has triggered the arm I have pced in there, I will decide on a proper punishment for your entire group. Meanwhile, this way has been sealed, and I will hat the head archivist is also not likely to look upon you fondly for the books you have apparently taken as part of this scheme.

  Your Father,

  Protector of the Imperial Archives

  Lord Bartholomew Alvoneas Montague the Fifth.

  Oh. Brilliant. Well, at least I’d hahat stupid arm.

  “Imp?” I whispered, keeping my voice low. The ces of being heard oher side of this bookshelf was low, but o risk it.

  Yes? The Imp replied, sounding sleepy for some reason.

  “Those methods you mentioned for practig Diabolism without the effects beied? you teach them to me?”

  Now? It replied.

  “I do not have many options,” I muttered. “So, anything that be taught in, say, the five minutes?”

  To move this? The Imp replied. Rot would do the trick. A slight amount, just to weaken the wood a you push through it.

  “A trickle to make dying wood decay faster,” I whispered. “A negligible amount would be below their ability to sense you think?”

  Uhey wanted any creature with even a traagi their bloering their sensors by walking ihe only issue is the Hell’s influence leaking out, which would be picked up. There is a fix for that, although I suspect you won’t like it.

  “Fillih fideeacher,” I muttered. “What is this ‘fix’?”

  Internalize the influence.

  “That sounds horrifically risky.”

  Oh, it won’t be that bad. With the energy you’ll output, negligible even. Besides, you are made of the Hells partially. What is the most signifit risk?

  “I looked over those ritual patterns when Thomias ah decided on that fool path together. Do you think I fot about the process of making someone more of a devil?”

  sider that, again, we are talking about a negligible amount of energy and that you have used magic to suppress your nature. The most likely result? Your disguise will be shed.

  I sighed. It was not a good oute si would mean having to be more on my guard onside, but it was not the worst. Ohing that was said did sti my mind, though.

  “Most likely?”

  The Influence of the Hells is chaotiething else might happen. But what I described is the most likely result by far.

  Not the most reassuring of words, but I cked alternatives. Besides just giving up and heading back.

  That would be the safe option. I was here on a hunch that Lord Montague was hiding something important, but had I misread things? Was this worth it? If I was wrong and I was found out...well I couldn’t imagine anyone would really stick their necks out for me. And why was I still pursuing this even? As far as I could tell, my involvement was mostly dohe gers had no reason to keep chasing me, so I could end it here if I wanted.

  Why keep going? Personal slights? The Montagues? Trying to look good for these Imperial intelligence agents I’d entered into some still barely defined pact with? Or did I just want to know?

  I put my hand on the bookshelf’s back. “Tell me how.”