Jaelin and I teleported our group from Hell’s Attic back to my office. I was pleased to see that Gavsot was back on his feet and that Sylnie was as busty as ever.
“How did it go?” Sylnie asked pleasantly.
“Well, Azraal wasn’t lying,” I summarized. “But now we need to make sure Lucifer’s daughter wasn’t lying.” I glanced at General Gavsot, who seemed to have just a little unsteadiness on his feet. “You good?” I asked.
He nodded. “I am recovering,” he said. “I can feel my strength returning rapidly.”
“Good to hear,” I said sincerely. “Can’t lose my star quarterback going into the fourth quarter.”
“What he means is,” Gus jumped in, “He can’t lose his strongest ally when he’s about to go to war.” From the corner of his mouth, he hissed at me, “Come on, using a sports metaphor on Gavsot? Get your head in the game, bro!”
Gavsot nodded appreciatively. From his expression, I gathered that he knew what I had meant without Gus’s help, even though he had no understanding of football.
“So are you going to make a knife that can kill Lucifer’s Firstborn?” Sylnie asked.
“That’s the plan,” I said with a little more bravado than I needed. I could often sense myself trying to play things up when I was around Sylnie, and I didn't like it—but I couldn’t stop doing it.
“What do you need?” Gavsot asked loyally.
“First,” I mused, “I think I need to pay a visit to Winston. I need to locate a murderer, and I have a specific one in mind.”