Daughter of Smoke and Bone(40)

The thought of Iz?l’s creature made Karou shudder, but her fate was now tied up with his.

In Marrakesh, after learning of Iz?l’s death, she had wandered the lanes around the mosque in a desolation of disappointment. She’d been so sure Iz?l would be able to tell her what was going on. She’d been counting on it with such intensity. She crumpled against a wall and gave in to tears that were a mixture of grief over the death of the poor, tortured man, and frustration for herself.

And then, echoing over the ground, came an unholy chuckle. Beneath a broken donkey cart something shifted, and Razgut dragged himself into the light. “Hello, lovely,” he purred, and it was a testament to Karou’s mental state that she was actually glad to see him.

“You survived the fall,” she said.

But not unscathed. Bereft of his human, he was splayed out over the ground. One arm had been crushed; he cradled it to his chest and dragged himself with the other, legs limp behind him. And his head, his awful purple head, was flattened at the temple, crusted with dried blood, and still embedded with rocks and broken glass.

He gave an impatient flick of the hand. “I’ve fallen farther.”

Karou was skeptical. The minaret towered overhead, the tallest structure in the city.

Seeing her glance up at it, Razgut chuckled again. It was a curdled sound: mingled misery and spite. “That’s nothing, blue lovely. A thousand years ago, I fell from heaven.”

“Heaven. There is no heaven.”

“Quibble, quibble. The sky, then, if you know so much. And I didn’t exactly fall. That makes me sound clumsy, doesn’t it? As though I tripped and fell into your world. No. I was thrown. Cast out. Exiled.”

And that was how Karou had learned of Razgut’s origin. It was hard to believe, looking at him and remembering the angel—that mythic, perfect being—that they were kin, but when she forced herself to really look at Razgut, she began to see it. And the splintered joints of his lost wings could not be denied. He was not a creature of this world.

She had also understood, finally, the twisted fulfillment of Iz?l’s bruxis. In wishing for knowledge of the other world, he had gotten himself saddled with Razgut, who could tell him everything that Brimstone would not.

“What happened to Iz?l?” she asked. “He didn’t really kill himself, did he? The angel—”

“Ah, well, you can blame him, he dragged us up the minaret, but the fool hunchback flung himself off, all to protect you.”

“Me?”

“My brother seraph was looking for you, lovely. Naughty boy, with all his questions. What does he want with you, I wonder.”

“I don’t know.” It gave Karou a chill. “Iz?l didn’t tell him where I live?”

“Oh no, noble fool. He danced with the sky instead, and the sky dropped him like a rotten plum.”

“Oh god.” Karou slumped against the wall and hugged herself. “Poor Iz?l.”

“Poor him? Don’t pity him, pity me. He’s gone free, but look at me! Do you think mules are so easy to come by? I haven’t even been able to trick a beggar.” Razgut pushed himself upright and used his good arm to drag his legs around in front of him. His face contorted with pain, but as soon as Karou began to feel the smallest hint of pity for him, his pain turned to a leer.

“You’ll help me, though, won’t you, sweet?” he asked her, smiling. His teeth were incongruously perfect. “Give me a ride?” He might have meant “a ride” such as Iz?l had given him, but his tone caressed a lewder implication. “After all, this is your fault.”

“My fault? Whatever.”

Coaxing, he purred, “I’ll tell you secrets, like I told Iz?l.”

“Ask for something else,” Karou snapped. “I will not carry you. Ever.”

“Oh, but I’ll keep you warm. I’ll braid your hair. You’ll never be lonely again.”

Lonely? Karou felt bare in that moment, to have this creature get at her substance like that. He went on, whispering: “All that beauty, it’s wrapped around loneliness. You think I didn’t taste it? You’re practically hollow. A piece of empty candy to lick, but oh, you taste so good.” His head fell back and he gave a groan, eyes half-lidded with remembered pleasure. Karou felt ill. “I could lick your neck forever, lovely,” he moaned. “Forever.”

Karou was a long, long way from desperate enough to strike that bargain. She pushed off the wall and began to walk away. “Nice chat. Good-bye.”

“Wait!” Razgut called after her. “Wait!”

And she wouldn’t have thought there was anything he could say that would make her stop. But then he called after her, “You want to see your Wishmonger again? I can take you there. I know a portal!”

She turned to look at him, suspicious.

His leer was gone, replaced by his singular sustaining emotion. It was one she recognized, and for the merest instant, she felt a link to the broken thing that he was. It was longing on his face. If her own substance was loneliness, Razgut’s was longing.

“The portal they pushed me through, a thousand years ago. I know where it is. I’ll show you, but you have to take me with you.” A hitch in his breathing, and he whispered, “I just want to go home.”

Karou’s heart hummed with excitement. Another portal. “So let’s go,” she said. “Right now.”