Your Dark Gospel

Chapter Twenty-Two

  Elira

Raphael arrived the next morning as promised. 

Elira had hardly slept the night before, and while, yes, Astarion was mostly to blame, the anticipation of Raphael's return kept her gaze focused on the dark and dusty ceiling above. 

Giving up on her tossing and turning, she eventually woke Astarion and they headed downstairs, where the others were still awake and equally restless.

Seeing the way Karlach sat with her axe casually resting atop her thighs did little to quell Elira's gnawing anxiety. But when Raphael entered the room, seeming to appear out of thin air once more, Karlach stayed her hand. Though Elira noticed the way her fingers tightened around the handle, the fiery tiefling did not make a move against the finely dressed devil. 

"Have you considered my offer?" Raphael asked in a tone that was all honey and wine.

Elira opened her mouth to respond, but Karlach was faster.  

"We have," she said, rising from her chair, hands still wrapped around the handle of her ax. "But first we're going to discuss the terms." 

Raphael raised a neatly manicured brow. "Oh?" 

Karlach stood to full height, hoisting her axe over her broad shoulders and sheathing it onto her back so that she loomed over the Archdevil's son. Narrowing her golden cat-like eyes on his form, she asked, "What exactly do you promise to do for us if we deliver this item you're after?" 

"As I said before, I can grant all that you desire—" 

"I need specifics." Karlach cut him off. "Wyll and I have devils on our tails. We want freedom." Elira was astonished by how far the hunter and the hunted had come since meeting in Halsin's cave. She hardly had time to consider all she had missed before Karlach pointed a finger in her direction. "They want—" She scrunched her nose and turned to look at where Elira and Astarion stood by the hearth. "What exactly are you after again?" 

"A book." Elira bristled, crossing her arms over her chest and offering no further explanation. 

Raphael laughed. "Yes, I know all about the book you seek. It's quite an entertaining read, I can assure you." 

Elira fixed her gaze on Raphael, the devil cloaked in the guise of a charismatic nobleman. How did he possess such intimate knowledge about them? A chill skittered down her spine as he returned her glare with a disarming smile. 

Astarion stiffened next to her, then slid an arm around her shoulder, his grip firm—possessive. 

"I just want to go home," Shadowheart cut in from a nearby corner. "Surely that's not too much to ask." 

Raphael broke Elira's stare and turned to Shadowheart. "Not at all. It is well within my power to grant your requests once you've held up your end of our deal. We may not have a contract, but you have my word." 

Karlach spit on the ground. "That means fuck all to me."

Raphael smirked. "Yes, well," he said, tilting his chin. "Look at it this way. What choice do you have?" 

"You haven't told us anything about what you're after," Wyll added. 

Raphael rubbed at his jaw with his polished forefinger. "I suppose now that we've agreed on the terms, we can further our discussion. The object that I seek is at the heart of the vault. You'll know it by its place of favor among my father's various displays. Look for this symbol." Raphael swished a finger through the air and in its wake was a burning eye that fell to ash on the ground after several seconds.