The Key

Chapter 16

When the older royals release Dame Joanna, she turns to Prince Samuel for another bow. He responds with a gloved, outstretched hand. When she takes it, he tugs her, fails to budge her despite the vast differences in size, and, laughing, stoops to hug her instead. They embrace, Dame Joanna rocking up onto her tiptoes to fit into the hold, and there is more hitting of hands. Again, Casper copies Prince Dan, staying half a beat behind.

Perhaps spotting Prince Dan by the horns of his mask, perhaps simply having seen them in advance, Prince Samuel turns toward them as he pulls back from his embrace with Dame Joanna. With her at his side, Prince Samuel approaches them with purpose, and the crowd parts before him. As all eyes redirect toward them, Prince Dan’s hand falls from Casper’s.

Stopping in front of Prince Dan, Dame Joanna stands at attention. Prince Dan nods. Dame Joanna stands at ease. Both knights, royal and noble, step forward in unison and hug tight, each with an arm smacking down hard on the other’s back. There is less hand-striking from the crowd at this, and as Dame Joanna pulls back, the music resumes, this wordless ceremony at an end.

“Atta girl,” Prince Dan says to her, and she pushes at his shoulder as they part entirely. Although now free to, Prince Dan does not renew his grip on Casper’s hand. Instead, Prince Dan nods toward him. “You met Cas yet?”

“Yeah, he always has his invitation ready at the door,” Dame Joanna replies, nodding to Casper. Casper nods back. To Prince Dan, Dame Joanna says, “I like him, is he staying?”

Prince Dan looks at Casper out of the corner of his eye. With his gaze as their only point of contact, he says, “We’ll see.”

Behind Dame Joanna, the king and queen approach. Unlike their sons, neither wears horns or masks tonight, merely ornate circlets of gold. Prince Samuel makes headway in a different direction, moving toward Lady Jessebel beside the healer Nicholas in his wolf mask.

“Father, Mother,” Prince Dan greets as Dame Joanna smoothly gets out of the way. “Might I introduce Casper of Carver University?”

Casper bows deeply, hands at his sides, his wings sticking out behind him at an unnatural angle. When he straightens, he averts his gaze and waits until he is spoken to.

Queen Mary makes the first move, and in a literal sense. She steps closer and lays her hand upon Prince Dan’s arm. “My son speaks highly of you, Casper.”

“A treatment he deserves in return, and more, Your Majesty,” Casper replies. His eyes lift to hers before lowering submissively. “It is an honor to have been graced with His Highness’s company, and now Your Majesties’ as well.”

“Will we have the pleasure of yours for long?” Queen Mary asks. Beside her, King John watches him silently.

“Prior obligations shall send me home too soon, Your Majesty,” Casper answers. “I come with congratulations from Seer Shurley in regards to Prince Samuel’s coming wedding, a sentiment which Seer Shurley fittingly offers in advance.”

Queen Mary smiles. King John does not. The latter is more comforting, or certainly more expected.

“I’m certain Seer Shurley already knows his presence is missed,” Queen Mary states in a form of human lie known as courtesy.

“I will confirm that he knows,” Casper also lies.

Having observed Casper long enough, King John now speaks. “Before you leave us, I would have a word with you, Casper.”

Casper bows his head. “I am at your disposal, Your Majesty.”

“Good,” says King John. “Now will do.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

“Dan,” says King John.

“Sir,” says Prince Dan.

The motion deliberate before his parents, before all of the many onlookers who have not returned to dancing, Prince Dan reaches. He threads his fingers through Casper’s and presses their palms together tightly, with only that thin layer of leather between their skin.

Reflexively, Casper holds fast. More intentionally, he ducks his head deeper, pulls back the corners of his mouth, and looks to Prince Dan. Around them, beneath the music, he hears whispering gossip, a muffled eruption of intrigue. The attention is long past the point of being avoidable, and now all Casper can do is guide its starting point.

“With me,” King John says, tone unchanged.

“Gentlemen,” says Queen Mary, taking her leave. She touches Prince Dan’s shoulder opposite Casper, though she looks at them both. With that, she moves in the same direction Prince Samuel had, no doubt rejoining her other son.

Thus alone in a crowd, Casper and Prince Dan follow the king toward the musicians, then past them. Prince Dan releases Casper’s hand to hasten forward and open a door for his father. King John enters the side room first, then Prince Dan, and Casper closes the door behind them.

It is a small room with stone walls and a smattering of stacked chairs. Instrument cases cover the single table in the far corner and litter the floor around it. Set into the walls, a connected series of magelights shine with off-white light.

King John walks as far into the room as there is room to walk before turning. Remaining at Casper’s side, Prince Dan doffs his mask and stands at attention. Casper copies. Fitting his arms beneath his wings without moving his wings is an uncomfortable feat, especially while holding his mask, but Casper clasps his hands behind his back all the same.

“What do you know of my son?” King John asks him.

To ask is to err. There are two possible mistakes to choose from, and Casper selects the one which will endear him to at least one of the humans in this room.

“Your Majesty, Prince Dan is–”

“My other son,” King John corrects.

Casper nods, chided for his error, and continues. “It is my understanding that Prince Samuel is both seer and vessel.”

“And what do you know of vessels?” King John asks.

Casper answers with a more concise summary of what he told Prince Dan the previous night. He speaks of presumed abilities, claiming no firsthand knowledge. Without specific tomes to reference, he sticks to general descriptions. Every word underscores the mistake he made last night in broaching the subject at all.

“How did you come to know of this?” King John asks, precisely the question Casper has dreaded. “I’m told you are a researcher of angels, not obscure mage gifts.”

With nowhere else to go, Casper commits to the path ahead. “There is an overlap,” Casper replies. “One I sincerely doubt Your Majesty will find pleasant.”

“Tell me,” King John orders.

“Approximately seven hundred years ago, there lived an artificer named Donald Finnerman, notable for his atypical means of enchanting his projects. He was said to have the ability to imbue organic materials – leather, bone, woolen cloth – with his own magic without use of any spellwork beyond the laying on of hands.

“Allegedly, he vanished in an explosion of his workshop and was thought dead, and yet there are contemporary records which identify a man of identical description seen in the company of angels, specifically the Archangel Raphael. The man in question was described as broken and void of understanding, a disposition incongruous with the artificer’s garb and tools he wore.

“Years later, a body thought to be Finnerman’s was found at the site of his former workshop. Upon that day, all items he had enchanted ceased to function. Curiously, Finnerman had referred to both the items he made and himself as ‘objects of power.’”

“This is your connection?” King John asks. “One man supposedly kidnapped by angels?”

“It is one story of many, Your Majesty,” Casper answers, “and the least unpleasant.”

“Tell me the most,” King John commands.

There are too many.

Casper begins to list them. “Alistair. Lilith. Azazel.” He continues in this manner until Prince Dan stops him.

“Casper, why are you listing archdemons?” Prince Dan asks. Casper’s full name sounds strange on his lips now, but that is far from a pressing concern.

“Because all demons are made from humans, Your Highness,” Casper replies, the title equally strange. “The demons of the world now can only create new demons through possession, but archdemons were a notable exception. They’re said to have had the ability to corrupt at a touch, by forcing their own power into a living human.”

Both prince and king regard him silently.

“It was something I wondered about when I was younger,” Casper continues, touching upon honesty. “Why a specific subset of demon would be so much more powerful and possess different abilities. But it occurred to me that many demons retain their mage gifts, even after their original body is destroyed. I sought to discover if there were records of humans whose abilities could match.”

“Are you telling us Sam could become an archdemon?” Prince Dan asks, voice calm, tone stable.

“Is His Highness your brother warded as you are?” Casper asks. At Prince Dan’s nod, Casper answers, “Then, no, he could not.”

“But if he weren’t, somehow,” Prince Dan says.

“The original archdemons were all fashioned by Lucifer himself, Your Highness,” Casper replies. “Although I understand that is a presumption with which Your Highness takes issue, I stand by that established theory. Of course, while no new archdemons have arisen in the past six hundred years or so, it’s also possible that vessels have simply grown that rare.”

“Have you published your theory?” King John asks, as quiet as a blade already drawn.

“I have not, Your Majesty,” Casper replies.

Without stepping forward, King John nevertheless gives the impression of stalking closer. For a human, he is imposing. “Do you intend to publish this theory?”

He dips his head, making his submissiveness clear. “It lies too far out of my field to be of interest, Your Majesty.”

“Is it a matter you’ve discussed with your patron?” King John asks.

After the archdemons arose, the angels had sought out the remaining vessels in the attempt to deny Lucifer their power. In so doing, and in presenting themselves as the vessels’ only defense against the threat of demonhood, they had availed themselves of the vessels’ abilities. And, ultimately, of the vessels’ lives.

It was a bloody time, one now looked upon with distaste. After the drooling mess Finnerman had become, no one dares broach the subject with Raphael.

“No, Your Majesty,” Casper replies.

“And your patron is?” King John asks.

“A condition of their patronage is anonymity, Your Majesty,” Casper answers, as well-prepared for the question as he can be without an actual human to claim. “It is unpopular to believe in the existence of angels, and my patron is too proud to be mocked for pursuing evidence to that end.”

“So you put up with the mocking instead, huh?” Prince Dan asks, a clear push for a lightened mood.

“I have borne worse, Your Highness,” Casper answers, still looking to King John. “Moreover, I am naturally inclined toward the history of my name.” It’s as solid an alibi as any, and more solid than some.

“Is there more you would study?” King John asks with slightly narrowed eyes.

“I respond to the demands of my patronage, Your Majesty,” Casper replies. “I can do no more.”

King John looks to Prince Dan. In response, Prince Dan steps closer to his father before turning back to Casper, still within arm’s reach. “Casper,” Prince Dan begins, “are you happy where you are?”

This is not a question Casper has prepared for.

He hesitates too long.

“I… could be happier,” he admits.

His back to his father, Prince Dan smiles. “The Men of Letters need researchers who can make unlikely connections. Sounds like you’ve pieced together a lot of obscure stuff on your own.”

“A theory is nothing without the evidence to support it, Your Highness,” Casper replies, a suspicion welling up inside his mind.

“It’s worked so far for my brother,” Prince Dan says. Beyond him, King John watches with a gaze as steady and solid as his presence. “I think you’d be a good fit.”

“If you seek to honor my contribution, Your Highness, I thank you,” Casper replies evenly. “If you seek to secure my silence, I assure you, it is unnecessary.”

Prince Dan looks back to his father.

King John answers, “I seek to protect my son, and thereby the future of my kingdom. There must be more to uncover about his gift, and you’re the man with all the leads.”

This time, Casper does not permit himself to hesitate. “I am at your disposal, Your Majesty.”

“See that you remain so,” King John instructs.

Casper bows. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“That was not a dismissal,” King John tells him.

Casper resumes the at ease position. “What would you ask of me, Your Majesty?”

“The matter we are ostensibly in here to discuss,” King John replies. He nods toward Prince Dan. “What are your intentions toward my son?”

By the slight widening of Prince Dan’s eyes, Casper knows the question takes Prince Dan by surprise.

“I intend to remain in His Highness’ company as long as I am permitted so to do,” Casper answers. “It is an unsought gift which I am nevertheless loathe to relinquish.”

“Why did you approach him?” King John asks.

“With respect, Your Majesty, I did not. I returned to where I had already been made welcome.”

King John looks to Prince Dan.

Prince Dan nods.

To Casper, King John says, “You would pursue my son.”

“Again with respect, it is Your Majesty’s son who is the hunter.” Casper steels himself, weighing the king’s permission against the prince’s cooperation. “And should His Highness give chase, I will not take flight.”

The way Prince Dan looks at him, it is a new manner of looking. It is a use of the eyes the likes of which Casper has never before seen. It is hard, though not in the way of iron or stone or even strength. It is hard in the way of a tight embrace, of palms pressed close, of difficult words about to be said.

Casper stares back.

“Dan,” says King John, and Prince Dan turns back to his father.

“I want to see where this goes,” Prince Dan says.

It’s too undeniable to ignore any longer: he intends to keep Casper for more than these five nights, and Casper cannot be kept.

The thought solidifies as he has not before allowed it to do, and, deliberately, he pushes it away. He has made too many mistakes, but none of them can be undone or corrected, not at this point, not safely. He stands before a king and a prince with precious minutes slipping by, and his people are still trapped. That is the important matter, the only important matter. The intentions of one man against that are nothing, regardless of how heartfelt.

King John looks between the two of them, and Casper bids his body calm. He has no choice but to remain tense in the wings, as anyone would be under the circumstances, which is useful. Less useful is his limited knowledge of human facial expressions. King John’s is a difficult one to parse.

“I’ll permit it for now,” King John decides.

These words rankle Prince Dan.

There’s no hint in his posture, no sign on his face Casper can read, and yet Casper looks at him and knows. He can’t explain how.

“Thank you, Father,” Prince Dan says with a slight bow.

Casper bows as well, far more deeply.

“That will be all,” King John tells them.

“Yes, sir,” Prince Dan says for them both. They stand to the side for the king to pass, and King John opens the door for himself. He exits without looking back, and Casper stays put even before he feels Prince Dan’s touch on his arm.

“Courtyard?” Prince Dan asks.

“I’m fine,” Casper answers. It seems Prince Dan has taken his claims of claustrophobia very seriously. “Are you all right?”

“What? Yeah, I’m good.” His touch rises to Casper’s shoulder, then back down. “We’re good. You did good.” He keeps rubbing Casper’s upper arm, fingertips brushing against the underside of his wing. “That was pretty much best-case scenario, honestly.”

“Your father wants me to work here,” Casper states. “For your brother or for you?”

“Most things he does, he does for a minimum of, like, five reasons,” Prince Dan replies. “So, uh: yes.”

“Am I expected to give an answer soon? I would need to speak with my patron first.”

“Yeah, we can hash that out later,” Prince Dan promises. “And I do mean later. We can write. And it’s not like patrols never put me near the university, either.”

“I need time to think,” Casper says, knowing full well his deception will not survive a visit to the university, or even a basic inquiry. “This is all a great deal to process.”

Prince Dan’s hand comes to rest on his shoulder. His thumb brushes low, making slow sweeps across Casper’s clavicle. Through the cloth of his shirt, the leather glove isn’t so jarring. “We can take some time to sit down and stuff, or we can do part two of Dad’s plan. Which is, by the way, me taking you downstairs and showing you all the crap you’d have access to as a Man of Letters.”

Casper allows his eyes to widen.

Prince Dan grins, the motions of his thumb stopping. “Yeah, thought you’d like that. Research night with full approval.”

“Thank you,” Casper says with the utmost sincerity.

“And, maybe, if you find something that helps wrap up your current project, well, who knows.”

Hope is too great a distraction. Choosing to ignore that line of thought, Casper asks, “Should we go back out?”

“Right, yeah.” Dan squeezes his shoulder before releasing. With his other hand, he returns his mask to his head, and Casper does the same. Quick about it, Casper steps forward and makes sure to open the door and hold it for Prince Dan. Once they’re both through, Prince Dan reclaims Casper’s hand. Even while still half hidden behind the musicians, there are innumerable eyes upon them.

They skirt around the dancing. Prince Dan waves to his brother, already back in that mix, and Prince Samuel nods back, grinning at both of them with a flash of teeth.

After enduring a small gauntlet of pleasantries and poorly disguised interest in Casper, they escape from the nobles gathered in the throne room. In the hall, there are fewer people who have seen Casper closeted with the king, but holding hands with a prince is not a good method of avoiding attention. It’s a small price to pay.

This time after Prince Dan helps him over the rope barrier, they go down the stairs. The ceilings grow lower and the acoustics change. Their synchronized steps echo back to them. “Still good?” Prince Dan asks, his voice a recurring whisper.

“I’ll tell you when I need to leave,” Casper promises.

“Right you are.” Prince Dan swings their hands and lifts them up before his mouth. He presses his lips against the back of Casper’s hand, and their steps fall out of sync on the stairs. Prince Dan stops a beat after Casper does, their hands still held high between them. Prince Dan stands on the stairs a step below Casper, and the reversed height difference changes the lines of his face in a way Casper cannot help but study. When Prince Dan smiles, it is an unveiling. His eyes are hotter than the air of his breath.

Far less casually than the first time, Prince Dan returns his lips to Casper’s skin, their eyes locked over their interlaced fingers. Something inside Casper’s chest attempts to escape, a physical sensation of motion. He tries to hold it down, tries to hold it back, but he can feel it shine from his eyes like the power of his grace.

Another brush of the lips, so soft. “You gonna kiss me, Cas?”

“Yes,” Casper rasps. He clears his throat to no avail.

Prince Dan lowers their hands. His other hand rises, as if to assume a dance position, but it lifts even higher, to the side of Casper’s face. The leather feels cool against the heat of his own cheeks. “Yeah?”

Casper fights to keep his eyes open. Half lidded is the best he can do. “Yes.”

Prince Dan lifts his chin and wets his lips.

With his free hand, Casper covers the hand touching his face. He turns his head. He presses his lips to the center of a leather-clad palm. His eyes cannot help but close.

When he looks back to Dan, it’s clear the prince has no such issue. His eyes are round and wide and dark.

“Cas,” he says, voice deeper than even his gaze.

“I’m saving it for later,” Casper explains.

“We can have more than one,” Prince Dan tells him. “You know that, right?”

“I can savor the anticipation,” Casper says, not sure where the words come from. He reaches for something more sensible. “Also, a staircase doesn’t seem the best place.”

“You’re the one who stopped,” Prince Dan reminds him, eyes on Casper’s mouth.

“You’re very distracting,” Casper says, the truest thing he has ever said to this man. He’s still holding Prince Dan’s hand against his face. He can’t seem to stop. He forces himself to anyway.

“I can be more distracting.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Casper says. Holding only one of Prince Dan’s hands, Casper moves past him down the stairs. He does not need to pull. “You manage it even when absent.”

“Do I?” Prince Dan asks, following with a renewed grin in his voice.

Casper ducks his head. He needs to stop saying things he does not plan to say.

“I mean, for future reference,” Prince Dan continues, “and scientific inquiry and all that, collecting information for posterity, that kind of thing… how do I distract you?”

“I don’t have to answer that,” Casper says.

“It’s my mouth, isn’t it?” Prince Dan asks. “You’re always staring at my mouth.”

“Dan,” Casper warns, though against what, he isn’t sure.

“For me, it’s your hands,” Prince Dan continues. “Your hands and your voice. And maybe your hair. Not that I don’t think you could make the typical mage cut work, but this is good too.”

“Dan.”

“Yeah?” he asks, grinning cheekily. Casper immediately identifies the expression through the tone of his voice.

“Are there people down here?” Casper asks.

“Guards, servants, yeah,” Prince Dan replies. “Party guests, not so much. Why?”

“You do realize your voice carries?”

The grin does not fade. “You let me grab your hand in front of half the nobility of this country and the next, but the guards overhearing, that’s where you draw the line?”

“Yes,” Casper says, just to see what will happen. Perhaps Prince Dan will send them away, the better to continue flirting. Casper certainly hopes so. The fewer prying eyes, the better.

“Oh,” Prince Dan says, grin fading. Casper very nearly corrects himself, but before he can tell Prince Dan that it is fine for him to continue, Prince Dan rallies, saying, “Yeah, I’ll stop.” He looks down at their hands before saying, “Should I…?” He loosens his grip.

Casper tightens his.

Prince Dan smiles. “Awesome.”

They continue circling down one set of stairs and then another. Prince Dan knows precisely where he’s going, and so Casper simply follows, easily memorizing what is essentially a straight route. They continue all the way to the bottom, where there are two doorways. Prince Dan takes the one on the left, which opens into a small hall. There are two guards before an iron door, and Prince Dan nods to them both, removing his mask.

After a polite greeting that comes out closer to a report, both guards stand aside and Prince Dan draws a thick key from his trouser pocket. While unlocking the door, Prince Dan asks the guard on the right, “How much can you hear on the stairwell from here?”

Keeping an otherwise blank expression, the guard looks from Prince Dan to Casper and back, only moving her eyes. Before she can answer, Prince Dan says, “Never mind.”

Prince Dan gestures Casper in first. Entering into the darkness is a show of trust, one Prince Dan immediately rewards by following him and slapping his hand on a magelight set into the wall. The door closes heavily behind them. The lock does not merely click into place. It clunks.

The chamber is the entrance to several more, each of these concealed behind thick vault doors. There are wards and runes set into each, the patterns themselves set in worked metal. The opening mechanisms show signs of being blood sealed. It’s nothing Casper couldn’t overcome with a strong enough grip and leverage to pull – the hinges aren’t blood sealed – but it would stop most lesser creatures.

Hopefully, he can convince Prince Dan to take out anything relevant. The logbook itself is immense, the size of Casper’s torso while closed, both in height and thickness. With Prince Dan’s mask now atop it, it sits on an entry table with multiple long ribbons peeking out from its pages. Casper has no doubt he will spend considerable time tonight looking through it.

That is, until he looks beyond the book.

There are two tables in the room, each a sturdy wooden affair. They must be for processing and sorting the items that go into these vaults, and today, the closer one has two boxes upon it, in addition to a stack of paper, a writing kit, and a jug of water with two cups.

He sees the boxes and the world goes still.

“You recognize the design, then,” Prince Dan observes.

“Yes,” Casper replies, approaching. He pushes aside a chair to better stand before the table. Wooden with iron corners, the boxes are of moderate sizes, though fairly flat. The thinner is the length of Casper’s forearm and hand. The more square of the two is the length and width of his forearm. Each sports a small metal clasp to hold it shut, but this is not what keeps them secure.

Set deeply into each, there are carvings, geometric and precise.

Angel warding.

“Where did you find these?” he asks, his breath abandoning him.

“Sam found them in the logbook,” Prince Dan says, pointing back to the overgrown tome with a grin. “Before that, they were recovered from a demon stronghold. There was a lot more than just this, but you said you were looking for tablets and s**t, and this one had a friend in a matching box. I’m more curious about that one, honestly.” He indicates the thinner, longer box.

“What’s inside that one?” Casper asks.

Standing close, Prince Dan only grins wider. “Open it and see.”

Casper looks down at two boxes he cannot touch, each containing an item demons had deemed worth warding.

He doesn’t move.

“Cas?” Prince Dan asks. He touches Casper’s shoulder.

Casper looks at Prince Dan’s hand. He looks at Prince Dan’s unmasked face. He pats the pouch on his belt, which holds only his invitation, and says, “I don’t have gloves.”