Chapter Text
Jordie Rietveld had grown up with stories about boys tricked by demons. They were cautionary tales designed to underline the need for rules, for order, for following Ghezen’s will. Kaz had scoffed at the protagonist’s misfortunes, but Jordie had listened. He knew never to trust demons and that one needed only to follow Ghezen’s rules to be safe. As he lay delirious with fever and hunger, Jordie knew this was his punishment for trying to get ahead by cheating. No demon had tricked him, but he had fallen regardless. On his sternum, the last bit of his mother – the small tin medallion embossed with Ghezen’s hand she had given him for his fourth birthday - blinked up at him like a golden coin. He could hear his father’s stern voice: Only industriousness and self-sacrifice will get you ahead, Jordie. Believe in Ghezen and his teachings.
He should have listened to his Papa. He should have been smarter, worked harder. I will, he promised, clutching his little brother close. Give me another chance. I’ll make you proud. Ghezen must have been listening because Jordie Rietveld didn’t die of the plague.
That afternoon, he was feeling better; the fever had gone down, and even though his limbs ached, he had enough strength to sit up. The sky over the crooked rooftops around them was a clear gray, the air heavy with humidity. Jordie choked a breath down. His belly grumbled. He was hungry for the first time in days.
Beside him, his little brother lay eerily still curled up into a ball.
“Kazie,” Jordie’s voice was a barely-there rasp; every word scratched his throat like sand. “Kazie, wake up.”
He shook his shoulder like he had done so many times over the years. Through the worn layers of clothing, he felt how bony his arm was. The movement rolled Kaz to his back, head lolling, limbs splayed uncoordinatedly. His pale skin was ashen and cold. The bright blue eyes he had inherited from their mother were open.
Jordie shook him harder.
“Wake up,” he said again, forcing the whisper of his voice to come louder. Kaz didn’t move. “This isn’t funny, Kaz. Wake up!”
But he didn’t. He wouldn’t. And the realization was a fist around Jordie’s heart, squeezing, squeezing, squeezing. He couldn’t breathe. Something like fear gnawed at his throat, swallowing the air before it reached his lungs. His hands shook, and the cold, clammy feeling of Kaz’s skin made him shudder. He grabbed him by the cheeks, shaking his head in a way Kaz had always hated. He brushed his hair back – it was too thin and longer than Kaz liked it. He rubbed his arms to try and warm him up.
Kaz didn’t stir.
“Help.”
The alley was empty. The canal was a glinting green sheet framed by crooked brick buildings; the only sounds were the lapping of the water and the distant cawing of crows.
“Help!” His voice was a strangled croak; he willed it to be louder. “HELP!”
There was nobody to hear him. With the quarantine still in effect, the streets were deserted, the windows shuttered, and the doors closed. Jordie gathered his brother close. If nobody came, he would carry Kaz to a medic, to the Church of Ghezen, or- or- His knees gave up under him before he managed to stand. Kaz’s head lolled against his shoulder and stayed at an uncomfortable angle. Jordie rearranged it. The alley blurred, and tears splashed onto Kaz’s nose.
Kaz didn’t stir.
“Anybody, help!”
His words were too soft; they sank into the canal’s murky waters like stones. Nobody came. There was nobody there to come.
Kaz was- was-
When he coughed, blood splattered onto Kaz’s skin, a constellation of red stars on his hollow cheeks. Kaz didn’t protest, didn’t scrunch up his nose, and punch Jordie’s arm.
Kaz didn’t stir.
We. Can. Help. You. Fledgling.
“Please, my brother-!” Jordie’s head snapped up. But the dark alley was empty.
Be. Not. Afraid. It was a croaking whisper that rippled from the waters and slithered through the shadows and the wet cobblestones. On the wall across from him stood a long, hunched shadow. Its body shifted and twisted; the head bent down as if weighted by its long, sharp beak. There was nothing there to cast it. You. Called. For. Help. We. Heard. You.
Jordie had heard of demons climbing out of the canals to trick people into selling their souls. Jordie didn’t care.
“My brother needs help,” he rasped, every word like glass over his throat. He clutched Kaz’s body to his chest. He was so cold. “He’s sick.”
The demon cocked its head to the side.
He. Is. Not. Sick. Anymore.
“Please! Help him!”
The shadow of one claw-tipped finger flicked the small medallion around Jordie’s neck.
Ask. Your. God. For. Free. Miracles.
The medallion was worthless to everyone but Jordie. Crows cawed overhead when Jordie pulled the leather cord over his head.
“You can have it, just please, help my brother.”
Jordie didn’t see the creature appear. It simply stood before him as if it had always been there. It looked like a man in a rippling coat made of feathers, beaks, and wings. Crows jumped into existence out of its hunched back. It had long, scaly hands, Jordie’s medallion wound around its long talons. His black eyes stared unblinking down at the two brothers. The beak was long and sharp and opened when the creature spoke.
What. Is. Gone. Is. Gone. Fledgling.
“I paid! The deal is the deal.”
We. Can. Give. You. Riches. Help. You. Out. Of. The. Streets. Make. You. Into. A. Fine. Merchant.
Jordie scowled.
“I don’t want riches. I want my brother back.”
We. Can. Give. You. Revenge. Bring. Sorrow. On. Those. Who. Killed. Him. Help. You. Destroy. Those. Who. Wronged. You.
Kaz’s body was growing colder.
“Please! I’ll give you anything! Just bring my brother back.”
The beak snapped shut. Eyes glinted like gold. A large crow jumped onto the creature’s shoulder.
You. Will. Give. Us. Anything. We. Ask. For. In. Exchange. For. Your. Brother’s. Life.
Jordie knew he was talking to a demon. He knew that only carefully negotiated contracts would hold such a creature to the bargain. But Kaz was staring unseeing up at the sky. His body grew cold and rigid, and it felt like a ticking clock.
“Yes! Whatever you want! Just- Let him be ok again.”
Jordie guessed this was what a grin looked like on a beak. The creature glided closer. Black feathers fluttered to the ground.
The. Deal.
“Wait!”
The demon’s beak clicked shut again. The gold in its eyes dimmed back to black.
“He will-? Will he be all right? You won’t hurt him.”
Jordie imagined the expression on the demon’s features softening. It crouched beside him to be level with Jordie; head cocked slightly to the side. He saw their reflection in its black eye.
We. Will. Not. Hurt. Him.
Jordie swallowed. He knew the creature was a demon and that the price in every bargain was a soul. But Kaz was so small and so light in his arms. It was his fault. He had brought Kaz to Ketterdam. He had sold the farm. He had let Herzoon scam him. He had failed to provide a roof over their heads. He had gotten sick first.
“All right,” he said. “Take whatever you want, but bring my brother back.”
The bird-like demon stared at him for a long moment. Extended his black, scaly hand. It had only three fingers. The medallion winked at him. Jordie wondered- nonsensically – if this meant he would never get to see his parents again. Papa used to say Mama was waiting for him, that they would be reunited after death. What would happen to his soul once the demon took it? Would it burn in hell? Would it be destroyed forever?
“Will it hurt?” asked Jordie.
We. Do. Not. Know.
Jordie looked down at Kaz. Brushed the blood flecks off his cheek.
Kaz would have seen through Herzoon’s tactics; he would never have landed in this situation if it weren't for Jordie. He had to survive. He couldn’t be- Kaz was so small. Jordie remembered the first time he held his little brother and how cumbersome and heavy the bundle had seemed. He had loved him instantly. He had marveled at the tiny fingers wrapped around his pinky, the nub of a nose, the rosy cheeks. It was his prerogative as older brother to protect Kaz. He should never have taken him from the rolling fields, from the safety of a small town where everyone knew each other. Kaz had been so happy, so carefree, chasing other boys around the schoolhouse, always diligent with his chores, loud and outspoken. Kaz was so easy to love. He couldn’t be gone.
Jordie kissed his brother’s brow, stared down into those big blue eyes.
“I love you, Kaz.” Then he turned back to the demon, clutching Kaz against his heart with one hand; he extended the other. It shook terribly. He was afraid. “The deal is the deal.”
The. Deal. Is. The. Deal.