Night had fallen, bringing a sharp chill to the air. Joris freed himself from his elven chain, folded it neatly, and placed it next to his boots before turning back to his bedroll, which rested a short distance from the campfire. Kalisa had already climbed inside, facing away from him, wearing the wingless “Raven” guise in which he’d first met her.
The bedroll was a tight squeeze for two. Joris had both legs in before he realized that Kalisa was naked. Trying not to lean on her hair, he wiggled in next to her, propping his head up with one hand and moving the other to Kalisa’s stomach, smooth and hot to the touch. The bedroll’s magic kept the cold at bay.
“I’m sorry,” Joris eventually said, “for invoking you by your truename. I didn’t know what else to do. Arviragus got the drop on me.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Kalisa replied. “It’s I who should apologize, for taking as long as I did to reach you. I used the only portal to Faerûn I knew, then I crossed half this world to find you.”
“Really? Where did the portal take you?”
“A port city, somewhere. What was it called… something like skull? Skuld, I think.”
“Skuld? You came here all the way from Mulhorand?!”
With some effort, Kalisa rolled onto her back so she could look up into Joris’s face, giving him the impression that she was gazing directly at his soul. “For you, my love, I would cross Nessus itself.”
She had never looked at him like that before. “Kalisa? Are you all right?”
“Now I am. I raced here as the wind races, Joris. I was so afraid that I’d lose you! If I had, without telling you how I truly feel… I could never have forgiven myself.”
“And how do you feel?” Joris asked, unable to keep his uncertainty out of the question. Somehow her hand slipped out of the bedroll and found the back of his head.
“I love you, Joris,” the succubus said, gently bringing his face toward hers, rising to kiss him, releasing him after a brief eternity. “And I have since the first. If only I hadn’t fought it all this time…”
“You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that.” Actually, Joris was sure that she knew. “Why did you fight it? You must have known how I’ve felt all this time.”
“Of course I knew.” Wrinkles creased the bridge of her nose when she smiled like that. “And I was a fool to deny that, as well. I was just so terrified of being hurt again. The last time someone broke my heart, it took me two hundred years to get over it.”
“Was that Faodhagan?”
“Yes,” she exclaimed. “How do you know about that?”
“A family history that Haden showed me.”
An enigmatic smile crossed her lips. “Faodhagan brought me out of the darkness, all those years ago. The Queen of the Succubi tasked me with seducing a Prime rebel leader, but his hidden patron… was too strong for me.” Her voice had taken on a faraway quality, as if her consciousness had left Joris to revisit the event.
“Is Malcanthet the Queen of the Succubi?” Kalisa nodded. “I saw a rendition of her, at the Temple of the Abyss. She looks just like you.”
“Of course she does. She’s my mother. Not literally,” she quickly added after seeing Joris’s surprise. “She didn’t bear me, but she chose me when I became succubus, remade me in her image, took a hand in my education. It’s her way.”
“Faodhagan prevented you from seducing the rebel,” Joris said, trying to wrest his imagination away from what a succubus’s education must have been like.
“He did – and in doing so, he won me over to their cause, and he showed me an existence I had never dreamed possible. Imagine what my life was – tempting mortals, performing acts ever darker in the hope to win strength, or power, or my mother’s favor. I was what I was made to be, nothing more. Faodhagan showed me that I could be more than that. He believed it. He helped me to believe it.”
“And you loved him for that.”
“For that, and more. He was beautiful, Joris – inside and out. But no matter how I took his lessons to heart, I never felt worthy of him. And he did not feel the same way about me. So, when he fell for Kerry… I was so jealous, my love! The things I wanted to do to her, to him… to myself… I shudder to think what I might have done, if not for what he’d taught me.”
Joris strove to ignore memories of his own envy. “So you fled?”
“I wasn’t strong enough to do anything else. I came to Sigil to hide, but the Blood War found me there, as well. I couldn’t stay out of it – but I could fight it on my own terms, keep any of the sides from gaining the upper hand. The city’s cold blood taught me to survive, but in my struggle to simply hold on, I lost sight of my goal of redemption. Until we found each other, that is.”
“I thank the Lady for that.” He stifled a yawn to kiss her again. He’d been petrified for more than a day; it seemed strange to be getting sleepy already.
Kalisa searched his eyes before continuing. “I was crushed when I heard that Faodhagan was dead. At first I felt that I should have been there. He never would have endangered me by bringing me along, and I’m not much help in a fight.” Tears glimmered in her eyes. “Still, more than once, I wished that it had been me instead.”
“Faodhagan’s alive, Kalisa.”
The succubus’s shocked expression remained in place as Joris explained what Noxana had told them. By the time he finished, skepticism had shadowed her features, and she said, “Anyone who worships Abyssal Lords cannot be trusted. You know this.”
“Haden didn’t seem inclined to believe her either – but what if it’s true? I want to find out… I should get word to Catriona. She’d know how to find out. I can prepare a sending prayer in the morning…”
Another yawn surged up within him, and he failed to contain this one. “You should go to sleep,” Kalisa said, turning away from him.
Not wishing to argue with Kalisa, Joris tried to make himself comfortable, returning his hand to her slowly breathing belly. “Tell me something: tanar’ri don’t need to sleep, right?”
“No.”
“Then why do you sleep with me? I mean, literally sleep with me?”
“Because you like it. And because you give me good things to dream about.”
After a moment’s silence, Joris sighed, “I’m going to see my father soon. I can’t go to Silverymoon and not see him.”
“Do you know what you’ll say?”
“Goodbye, maybe.” Really, what else was there to say? Sigil was his home now. He had his own life to live. He felt like he should come up with something else to say, but he drifted off to sleep before he could.
- – - – -
Kalisa allowed Joris to sleep. She still had much to tell him and the others – about Betzalel, the Lion of Hell, and the Iron Lord. She would have to wait for the right moment; she could only hope that the right moment came before it was too late.
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