“The smell,” he clarified.

“So that’s what Hell smells like.”

“I assume so; never been there myself.”

“Not many have,” came a woman’s voice from behind us.

“Afternoon, Sir Vegard.”

The big Guardian turned and smiled. “Professor Niabi, good to see you.”

“Considering how today’s gone so far, it’s good to be seen.”

The woman was human, about my height, with nut brown skin, and black hair pulled back into a serviceable braid.

“So Hell’s not a top-ten vacation spot?” I quipped.

Her teeth flashed in a good-humored grin. “The beaches suck.” She put out her hand. “Sora Niabi, professor of demonology.”

I hesitated only a moment before taking it. Her hand was warm and callused. Sora Niabi had done more work than just turning pages. I might have to adjust my opinion about academic types.

“I’m Raine Benares, seeker and…” I looked up at Vegard.

“What else are people calling me now?”

The big Guardian chuckled and shook his head. “A lot of things, ma’am. Some you’ve heard, most you haven’t, but I’m sure you could guess.”

“No titles necessary,” Sora Niabi said with a grin. “I know who you are.”

She knew, and she wasn’t afraid of me. She also didn’t want my power or want me locked up. I could sense it, and my instincts about people had never been wrong. Well, at least not yet.

“After this morning, Professor Niabi’s also the new department chair,” Vegard informed me.

Sora Niabi blew her breath out in disgust. “Looks that way. Though if Laurian Berel hadn’t been such an idiot, I wouldn’t be.” Her robes were a riot of bright colors. They were also slashed up the side, exposing practical trousers underneath, and good, sturdy boots.

She noticed me noticing. “When you study demons for a living, Miss Benares, it’s healthy to be able to haul ass when you have to.”