The Hearts We Sold(28)

James trotted down the inclined pavement, reaching to unlace his shoes as he went. He kicked them off, wading into the river with bare feet.

Which, considering this was the Willamette, was inadvisable. But Dee wasn’t going to lecture him on tetanus.

She kept her flip-flops on, her jeans rolled up to her knees. Stepping into the water was an act of will—it was painfully cold, and the pebbles felt unsteady beneath the rubber soles of her shoes. She kept wobbling, trying to stay upright despite the current and uncertain footing. “This is your idea of an easy errand,” she said, following him out until they were knee-deep in the water.

“Hey, we’re working for a demon,” James replied. “We could be disemboweling virgins or something.”

“That’s… a good point, actually,” she said reluctantly.

He beamed at her, then bent over at the waist and began scrabbling around in the water. “Try to find rocks about the size of your fist. Any smaller and they won’t have any effect. Any bigger, and whoever is carrying the load will get tired faster.”

Dee frowned, confused, but began fumbling about in the water. It was murky and a greenish brown, and the current flowed between her fingers, tugging at her. Her hand closed over a rock and she dropped it into the burlap sack.

It was… rather peaceful work. There was a rhythm to be found in bending down, rummaging through the riverbed, placing rocks into her sack, and then moving to a new place. The sound of the rushing water relaxed her, drowned out the nearby noises of traffic and children. Even the chill of the water seemed to dissipate, but she knew that was simply her skin going numb.

As she worked, she watched James.

He did not attempt to make awkward conversation or even look at her; he was consumed by his own thoughts and his task—picking up rocks, studying them, and then deciding to keep or toss back. He was more discerning than she was, but then again, she had no idea what these rocks were for.

She asked him as much.

“Oh,” said James, once she voiced her question. “I’m bad at explaining this part.”

One of Dee’s brows twitched. “You’re not going to tell me.”

“Oh, no,” he said cheerfully, “I’ll tell you. It’s just, you’re going to get different answers depending on who you ask.” He straightened, then reached into his burlap sack and pulled out one of the rocks. “All right. So when we explode one of the voids, it’s a two-part process. The first part is… well, the explosion. We have C-4 for that.”

She felt her mouth twist. “I know. I remember that harrowing car ride.”

“It’s fine,” said James. “It’s one of the more stable explosive materials. At least according to Cal. He’s the only one brave enough to prep the stuff. He sets it to a twenty-second timer—any shorter and we don’t have time to get out. Any longer and… whatever’s in the voids might have time to dismantle it. We place the explosives directly at the center of the void—and the explosives themselves are packed with these rocks.” He held up the rock. “Something about the explosion and the introduction of solid rock makes the voids go boom.”

“Is it like shrapnel?”

James grinned. “This is where it gets interesting. Technically, the rocks shouldn’t do anything other than get blown about. But according to the Daemon, we can’t destroy a void without them. When we asked him why, he refused to explain. Said we were mere humans and couldn’t grasp the finer details.” He shook his head ruefully. “Cal theorizes that the voids themselves are simply non-space and they cannot create their own matter. When the explosion goes off, there’s nothing to explode. The rocks are there so the explosion can actually be destructive.”

Dee nodded. “Is that what everyone thinks?”

“Cora disagrees.” James dropped the rock back into his sack. “She’s of a more… well. She thinks that the element of stone disrupts the energies of the voids.”

He gave her a significant look. “The voids only started appearing after the demons declared themselves. Cora thinks… well, she thinks the voids are here to counter them.”

“Angels,” said Dee, for the second time. “So Cora thinks there’s some kind of… supernatural war going on?”

“And that by doing the Daemon’s bidding, we’re on the wrong side, most likely,” said James, his cheerful tone at odds with his words.

“But Cora works for him anyway?” said Dee.

James gave her a look. “The Daemon has her heart. He has all our hearts. Tell me, are you simply going to tell him to eff off?”

Dee considered it. “No,” she admitted.

She’d thought when she made a deal with a demon, that would be it. Lose a limb, gain a wish, and be done. Isn’t that what other demons did? But this drawn-out contract, this taking of hearts and sudden introduction of a war—it was far more than she’d ever expected.

A laugh burst free of James. “Yeah, but there’s still no disemboweling, remember? In comparison, rock collecting and setting off explosions in magic portals seems tame. And besides”—he slid her a knowing smile—“it’s not like we’re doing it for free.”

That was also true.

“You look green,” James told her. “Take a breath. Go… sit on that boulder or something.”