Page 69
Story: To Hunt a Demon King
“I like her,” Cerridwen said, bumping Carnon’s shoulder with hers. She smiled warmly at me, and I wondered if there was a chance we could become friends.
“I had a feeling you would,” Carnon grumbled irritably. “Bats of a feather and all.”
We said goodnight to Cerridwen at the landing of her house in whispers, as Herne was snoring loudly at the end of the hall. Once Carnon had locked our door, I launched myself into his arms, pressing a smacking kiss to his lips and hugging him tightly.
“Thank you,” I said, feeling his arms wrap around me in return.
“Not that I object to this,” Carnon said, laughing as he hugged me close, “but for what, Red?” I looked up at him, leaning back a little so I could see his face. He quirked a brow at me.
“For taking me to see the city,” I said. “For bringing me here. I don’t know,” I said, suddenly feeling a little foolish and not sure I could put my thoughts into words. “I just feel alive for the first time. I know that doesn’t make sense, and I know I should be terrified of my grandmother and your king and worried for Mama, but...”
“But what?” he pressed, running strong fingers through my hair, which I had kept loose all night.
“But I think I…like it here,” I said, breathing out a sigh. “And maybe I shouldn’t. But I do. Is that strange?”
“I think it has a lot to do with the demon magic inside you, actually,” Carnon said slowly, sitting down on the bed and pulling me down to sit next to him. “Do you remember Cerridwen saying that demon magic is fueled by mortal dreams?”
“Yes,” I laughed. “That was literally only an hour or two ago.” Carnon flicked my nose playfully for my sass.
“Well, I’ve been thinking about this for a while,” he confessed, looking at me a little strangely. “You told me that you saved a child with your magic,” Carnon said, lifting a hand to my cheek, “when it first emerged. Were you in a mortal village? At night?”
“I…” I trailed off, remembering the strange buzz of energy I had felt that night at Marie’s cottage. “I was feeding on their dreams?” I asked in horror.
“The magic in you was,” he said, stroking a thumb over my cheekbone. “I’m guessing it’s why your mother took you. She must have suspected. Demon magic emerges the day a demon turns their first quarter century. You said it was your birthday, yes?”
“Yes,” I said.
Carnon was quiet for a long moment, watching me struggle to process. “Are you alright?” he asked finally, frowning down at me. I breathed out, looking up at him. He looked so handsome and warm. All I really wanted to do was bury myself within him and ignore whatever truth Mama had clearly been hiding.
“You think she knew?” I asked, looking up at him and feeling the sting of tears. He brushed one away with his thumb.
“I don’t know for sure, Red,” he said, looking at me gently, as if I were suddenly something fragile that might break if he wasn’t careful. “But yes.”
She had known about the demon magic. Had kept me far away from my grandmother to hide me. Had taken me to a mortal village to test me. She had a basket full of provisions, far more than she needed for a home birth. I loved Mama, but right now, I was furious with her. The necklace warmed slightly, and I brushed my fingers over the stone.
“Mama hasso muchexplaining to do,” I snarled. “Am I doing it now? Feeding on dreams, I mean.”
“It’s not something demons can control, Red,” Carnon said, frowning at me. “It’s not like you’re stealing them. The energy from dreams just fuels your magic.”
“This isnotmy magic,” I snapped, whirling on him. I knew I was taking my anger out on him unfairly, but I wasn’t exactly able to think clearly.
“Why are you so upset?” Carnon asked, standing and striding toward me. He put his hands on my shoulders, looking down at me with concern. “You haven’t done anything wrong, Red.”
“I just…” I sighed, blowing out a breath. “I have been a witch all my life. I can’t be a demon.”
“I didn’t say you were, Red,” Carnon said, pulling me to him and wrapping his arms around me in a comforting embrace. “But clearly some of the magic in you is. We just have to figure out how and why.”
“And how to get rid of it,” I added.
“Or control it,” Carnon countered, his brow raised at me in challenge.
“Agree to disagree,” I said, crossing my arms and glaring at him. He laughed and I sighed again. “I just wish I could talk to my mother about all this,” I added finally. “I have no idea if she’s okay, or what she knows, and I’m angry at her for keeping so many secrets from me.”
Carnon pursed his lips, a clouded expression coming over him.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s just…sometimes the ones who love you keep secrets to protect you.” He rubbed a hand down my arm soothingly, and I frowned.
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