20
When Kamira entered the initiation rite chamber, Fyertash was sitting perched on the shattered dome’s edge. The wind that sneaked in when she pushed the big door open enough to squeeze through brought salt from the seaside and the faint scent of the demon’s magic. He watched her with a grin.
“The little spy did tell you,” he said, amused. “And you came to… do what exactly, pactee?”
She stared straight at him. “That’s ‘archmage’ to you, demon.”
The grin didn’t fade from Fyertash’s face. “I’ll call you by your other title when you return the courtesy, and use the name for what I am, not what humans call us. Or, since we’ll be spending the upcoming battles alongside each other, I could settle for my name.”
He was smaller than Veranesh, without the aura of power that surrounded her dem
