CHAPTER NINE

A Most Uncomfortable Bargain

Gareth shielded his eyes from the sunlight as he looked up at the people working on the few houses that could be repaired. If all went well, he figured they could have them done by the end of his time here, and have enough new construction started to have them out of the church by the winter.

His gaze settled on the fiery red of Fydelis's hair as he and Paetrik sat up on a roof beam. He hated how his body reacted to that creature, regardless of his appearance. Most concerning was the reaction of his heart. It felt open, like it used to when he prayed. Vulnerable. No doubt, it was the demon manipulating him. As long as he could keep his wits about him long enough to complete his tasks, nothing else really mattered. Gareth glanced down as he felt the pull of someone's gaze upon him and met Yeol's calm but direct stare.

"Do you still believe, Father?" Yeol asked him softly as Gareth came nearer.

"In the Creator? My purpose? These are questions I have asked of myself lately." Gareth combed his fingers through his hair, again finding himself drawn to watching Fydelis.

"And what has been your answer?"

Gareth looked back down at the old man. "My answer is that something drives and inspires my convictions. I prayed at the altar of Fidelity as my guardian. For years, he did not fail me… not until I doubted him. Perhaps this is all a test of my faith." It was the first time he'd considered the suggestion, and he let the words play in his brain for a few moments. This beautiful demon of regret, the negative outcome of fidelity, was a different sort of temptation. While the creature suggested Gareth's faith in the Creator was foolish, it seemed more insulted by it than threatened. It. He; at least Fydelis chose to appear male, and the form was certainly pleasing enough, yet Gareth found it interesting that the form Fydelis chose to take was of a younger man, lean and of average height. He could have appeared with a body that hinted at his power, yet the shape he took almost demanded protection. It took Gareth a moment to realize that he and Fydelis had made eye contact, but by then the demon was curling his lip and looking away. For a creature working as a tempter of mortals, Fydelis did not seem to enjoy his job. Or perhaps he simply didn't enjoy Gareth. That was just fine with him. He wasn't about to entertain the thought of being a demon's only friend.

Gareth thought then about what Fydelis had said relating to demons not always being demons. Surely, Fydelis had never been human. As a Crusader, Gareth had seen what became of humans who had pledged their souls to the darkness in exchange for such power. They became horrific abominations, rotting from the inside. Would that happen to him as well? Gareth was never a vain man, but the thought of what he might become was troubling.

He excused himself from Yeol when he saw Fydelis drop down the ladder, leaving poor Paetrik stranded on the roof. "Habrim," he called to a boy of about fourteen. "Will you please assist Brother Paetrik on the roof? I think the two of you can get it finished if you work together." Gareth patted the lad on the head, and the boy grinned, trotting off to do his bidding.

He found Fydelis cleaning up bits of leftover cheese that remained on a plate from lunch. "I thought you were regret, not gluttony," Gareth chided.

Fydelis offered him a snarl, and then frowned at the oil on his hands. "It doesn't taste the same as before."

It occurred then to Gareth that Fydelis probably hadn't eaten before, or not in a very long time. "It needs to be kept cool or it spoils. You need to be careful with food that is left out."

Fydelis spit out something that could have been a fly; Gareth didn't wish to examine it closely enough to be certain. "It can make you ill," he finished explaining.

Fydelis hovered his hand over his stomach as if the statement alone had manifested knowledge. "Mortal bodies are so frustrating. How do you stand yourself?" He frowned at Gareth.

"Considering that I don't know how to be anyone else, I'd say it's not something I think about." Gareth began walking back towards the church, hoping that Fydelis would follow, and relieved to see that he did. "Demon, I have something to ask of you— a favor."

"A favor?" Fydelis's frown curled up into an interested smile.

"I… am concerned about these people. I'd hoped to have more time to build and teach them to defend themselves, but we are lacking the means to create weapons." The church was on a slight rise in the land, and Gareth led Fydelis around behind the forgotten cemetery and down a short winding path where the remains of a smelter and furnace sat crumbling. "This was once a blacksmith's forge. Jaena's husband was a smith before he was lost in the conflict…"

"You're telling me this as if I should care." Fydelis yawned and kicked at some rubble with the toe of his sandal.

Gods. Were all demons this aggravating? No wonder the Sunderer sent them on missions to the mortal plane. The underworld must seem full of adolescent brats. "I need this repaired, but have no means to do so."

"So you want me to whip something up, yes?"

"Yes. Please." Gareth fought back the urge to cringe as he watched Fydelis's eyes light up with interest. "I suppose there is a condition to be met?"

"Let me sleep beside you, in your bed— better yet, you'll have to hold me and keep me warm."

Gareth knew that this was not going to be easy, but that seemed an uncomfortably high price to pay, should his body betray his physical attraction to this creature. "You can share my bed, but no contact."

"Hmm… well, I'm sure that if anyone else comes by to kill you after we're gone these people can fend them off with sharp sticks."

Gareth felt a wave of heat burn from the inside. "You were discussing me with Paetrik."

"Vanity is a sin, Father… but yes. I know something of your General Karathis now." Fydelis was picking some dirt out from underneath his fingernails casually, as if Gareth wasn't even there.

Gareth sighed, raking his fingers across his scalp. "All right, demon. I yield. But this had better be a well-functioning forge."

"Complete with all the ingots they'll need to shape weapons." Fydelis stretched as though preparing for exercise, before pressing his hands to the broken stones that made up the forge. Gareth watched as clay formed from the pieces he touched, and then solidified as though thousands of years were passing under the weight of his palms.

"Any thoughts on how you'll explain this?" Fydelis asked casually as he sculpted the stone.

"Not a one," Gareth admitted, too awestruck to consider it now. Such incredible power, beyond anything Gareth could have imagined, and here it was, working for him; the only cost, his lowly soul. "Creator, forgive me for being impressed by this," he mumbled.

Fydelis leered at him over his shoulder and Gareth felt his face grow warm as something tugged at the pit of his stomach. Gods, spending a night pressed close to this creature was going to be difficult, to say the least.