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This time, I mentally willed the shadowy thing back down and called up the bright spark of life that lived in me. It poured out, coming easier than it had in the past, and bringing the mango back to life. Cerridwen and Herne stared open-mouthed, and Carnon looked on a little proudly.

“The magic is stronger,” he said, studying me carefully as I held the mango between my palms. “Probably because you’re here now.”

“What does that have to do with the strength of my magic?” I asked. I didn’t get an answer, as Herne interrupted.

“The lords of the courts won’t be happy about this,” he said darkly, shooting Carnon a long look. “They barely tolerate—“ Carnon cut him off with a look, and I frowned.

“Lords?” I asked.

“Of the four Daemon Courts,” Carnon replied. “Sun and Shadow, Beast and Blood. They help manage the realm.”

“Daemon?” I asked. “You mean demon?”

Carnon smiled, as if indulging a school child with a great many questions. Cerridwen took the mango from me and began slicing it.

“Witches and mortals have called the demons by that name for so long, it sort of stuck,” Carnon said, looking down at his hands before meeting my gaze again. “They couldn’t or wouldn’t pronounce it correctly. But the actual name of the people is ‘the daemon.’ It simply means beings of great power.”

“Daemon,” I said, twisting my mouth around the unfamiliar word. “Should I say daemon then, instead of demon?”

Cerridwen shrugged. “We use both depending on our mood,” she said, handing Carnon a slice of mango. “Most of us use ‘demon’ for the people, but ‘Daemon’ for the lords.”

“What about mortal lords though?” I asked, turning to Carnon, who was licking the mango juice from his fingers very distractingly. I cleared my throat. “I thought you were a lord.”

Herne choked on his food, and Carnon scowled at him. “Of a different sort,” he said, “and don’t worry about the Daemon Lords, Red. They won’t come near you, at least not right now.”

Cerridwen handed me a slice of mango to try, and I took it gratefully. It was sweet and sticky, and she was still looking at me a little warily when I had finished.

“What of your witch magic?” she asked, taking a seat at the table. “Is it true that you can fly on broomsticks and speak with cats?”

I laughed, turning to Carnon in disbelief. “Is this how I sounded when I told you what I knew about demons?” I asked.

He smirked. “You sounded much worse, Red,” he said, taking another slice of the mango and popping it between his teeth. His tongue flicked over the spot where juice dribbled over his lip, and my mouth went a little dry. I needed help.

“By the gods, Carnon,” Cerridwen said with a grimace. “Stop teasing the poor girl. Tell me then, Elara,” she added, turning back to me. “What kinds of witch magic can you do?”

“I mean, I can really do anything,” I replied truthfully, feeling a bit embarrassed that Cerridwen had sensed my distraction over Carnon and his damn lips. “As long as I have the right elements for casting and know the incantation that I need. Goddess-blessed magic requires preparation and invocation. It’s why I find this demon magic so…”

“Unnatural,” Carnon finished for me through a mouthful of mango. I shot him a scowl.

“Goddess-blessed indeed,” Cerridwen scoffed. “As if the goddess didn’t bless us with magic, just like the witches.”

“What is your magic?” I asked, curious what else demons could do. “Are you a part of one of the courts?”

“Court of Beasts,” Cerridwen confirmed. “Both me and Herne. But I can’t show you if I’m glamoured.”

I glanced at Carnon, who raised an eyebrow at me.

“I don’t mind if you drop the glamour,” I said, sounding more brave than I felt. “If I’m going to be here for a while, I should get used to seeing demons without them, yes?”

Cerridwen looked expectantly at Carnon, who shrugged.

“Up to you,” he said, leaning back in his chair and crossing one long leg over the other. Something in me made me want to climb into his lap right there, and he gave me a small wink and a smirk, as if he knew exactly what I was thinking.

“Okay, just remember, I’m still Cerridwen,” she said, looking at me like I might run for the hills. I braced myself, watching as her tan skin turned a darker brown, and huge, feathery wings appeared behind her, flaring out from her slender shoulders. Horns sprouted from her head, short delicate things arching up from her temples, and her ears pointed and elongated slightly. It was odd to watch, like a veil was being removed. Clearly, these parts of her had always been there, I just couldn’t sense them.

“Well?” she asked, looking as if she was prepared for me to bolt.

I sat in shock for a moment, before realizing my silence might be interpreted as rudeness. “That’s amazing,” I said, standing to walk around and see her wings and horns from another angle. I didn’t touch because I felt like it might be rude to touch someone’s wings without their permission. “Can you fly?”