Page 130 of The Fake Divination Offense
He knows what I want to try with this ritual. And I know how he feels about what I want to try, the same reason that already clouds my head with doubt: that it might not work to get the cultists off his back. Only where I worry about unnecessarily endangeringhim, he’s worried aboutmeputting myself too close to this.
In the week since the Silver Hound party, we had a quiet New Year’s and spent a much-needed few days off recouping.The Hellhounds won the home stadium in the coin toss, so the Dragons get to design the field; which means I should have spent these days reviewing plays. But I don’t think we left the apartment—or put on clothes—until practices started again.
The playbook was open on my bedside table most of the times we had sex, at least. A valiant effort was made.
But Bel’s right. It’s game day; I need to get my head around this championship match. Any ritual we do is several months off. Maybe the cult will collapse on its own before then. They’ve only spent eight years gaining strength.
I snap my notebook closed while Seb and Thio shut their books with the posture of scolded children.
Bel keeps his hands on his hips, and at first I think he’s watching to make sure we clean up. But his eyes are on Seb’s notebook, pushed off to the side.
Bel pulls the notebook to him. “What’s a simulacrum?”
Seb glances up. “A physical body. A shell, really—it won’t be animated or have a soul or anything. It’lllooklike a demonic person for the ritual. That way, no one’s actually involved.”
“And you’ll… sacrifice this simulacrum?” Bel asks softly.
Thio moves some of the books to an empty chair but stops, his gaze narrowing on Bel. I know that look—Thio’s realized something, and I frown, not seeing it yet.
“No,” Thio answers. “That’ll be part of the spells we set up. It isn’t supposed to work, so the simulacrum won’t vanish or be consumed in the ritual. There’ll be a lot of smoke and noises and buildup, but the ritual will ultimately fail.” His head tips, eyes locked on Bel. “It won’t get hurt. And we could add extra safeguards.”
“Of course it won’t get hurt.” Seb stretches to dump the rest of the books on a table by the window. “It won’tfeelanything. It’s a shell.”
But Thio’s still watching Bel, and my focus pings between them.
Until the same realization hits.
I shove to my feet and take Bel’s arm. He’s in his game-daysweats already, illusion magic in place, apple scent rich all around him.
“No,” I say.
Bel folds his arms over his chest. I don’t let go of him. “No?”
“We’ll use the fake body.No, you aren’t doing this.”
“I didn’t suggest anything.” But he pauses. “How much will this simulacrum cost you?”
“That doesn’t matter—”
“A lot, right? A lot of money that you could also use for—” He stops, and I know he was going to mention my charity work.
I haven’t gotten the payment from the lawsuit yet, but I’m still set to fund the Thrive Children programs; and yeah, fine, I usually throw a lot of extra money at similar stuff. But only Bel knows that.
He pivots, tongue working over his teeth. “Money that you’d use for better things. Not waste on a one-off spell. And the body just needs tolie there, right?” Another shrug, his eyes firming in resolve. “I can do that.”
“Absolutely not.”
Silence drops over the room. Thio and Seb shareuh-ohlooks. Bel’s frowning up at me, his arms still crossed, my hand still on his bicep.
I hear what I said, how controlling it is, but I don’t care. He’s not putting himself in this.
“The point is for all the cultists to see it,” I say. “To broadcast it. It’d beyourface,youridentity. And if it doesn’t work? If cultists still go after you, only now theyknow who you are? No way in hell am I letting you participate in this.”
Bel grips my tank top. I haven’t put on my suit yet, just that thin layer between his warm knuckles and my skin.
“I’malreadya participant in this,” he hisses. “We can change my appearance for the ritual. Mask who I really am. I’ll lie there, right? I can do that.”
“No,” I tell him, damn near snap at him, but he’s asking to put himself in danger, and Ican’t. “We’re doing the simulacrum.”
