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Summary
"His Highness is on the phone for you, sir," Moxxie says.
Blitzo makes a face. "Who?"
"Stolas," Moxxie supplies, as if that's supposed to help Blitzo understand. His expression is surely one of complete confusion as he stares at the other imp
"Who the fuck is Stolas?" Blitzo asks slowly, racking his brain for a face to put to the name.
Blitzo's memory starts to slip, and all he knows is he needs that owl that seems to haunt his nightmares to stay away.
