Page 4

TALL TAILS

Ember

W hen Ember woke, there was an emptiness in her chest she had never experienced before. It wasn’t sad or frightening, only strange, and she thought a deep breath might fill it.

Deep breaths cannot fill the absence of fury, of course, not for much longer than a few minutes of silent counting and the remembered words of someone who meant well but never fully understood.

But a spell to steady the soul can keep fury at bay for just long enough that the target will begin to wonder what on earth is happening to her.

Ember did wonder then, not in an anxious or angry way but with simple curiosity, what on earth was happening to her. Or rather, What in the hells?

This time when magic toiled about her insides, it was so gentle she didn’t quite notice at first, instead overcome by the lack of white-hot emotions upon waking.

Stranger still was the weightlessness the absence of anger inspired and how she might float upward and dance among the twinkling lights overhead.

Not that Ember ever danced, but where there was an emptiness, there was the longing to fill it, and for a short moment she wanted to be filled with something like joy.

Golden flickers dotted the ceiling. Not the ceiling of a cart or a cell or even a servant’s chambers, but a ceiling that was a comfort to stare up at.

Sure, the lights floating above her were actually balls of fire, but in her contentedness, she somehow knew they wouldn’t burn if she touched them, so she tried.

A shove at Ember’s shoulder flung her back down.

The landing was soft, but her breath was stolen right along with that nice floaty feeling.

Even the best soul-steadying spell can be wrecked with an unfamiliar vision, and the sudden appearance of a demon glaring from overhead was more than enough to disrupt the most powerful magic.

Everything came crashing back into Ember’s mind: the tipping cart, the spilled blood, screaming, terror, horns .

Or…horn? It grew upward, black and shiny like obsidian with a spiral in its middle and a deadly point at its end.

It should have had a match on the other side, that was what Ember he ard of demons anyway, but its owner’s glower was similarly one-eyed, a black-stained bandage wrapped around half of his head.

The base of his other horn was cracked down to his temple, jaggedly broken after only a few inches.

The demon was no less horrifying for his injury, though—in fact, possibly more, the skin crawling away from the bandage hiding whatever happened to that eye torn and as red as beetroot, but then so was the rest of him.

His face, his neck, and the clawed hand that pinned her shoulder to the bed were all a color no skin should be.

And that eye that pinned her without touch was nothing more than a black void.

The one from the forest, the one who had given chase, the one who refused to let her go.

“Ah, I see we are fully awake this time.”

Ember blinked and refocused on the figure at the foot of her bed. Another demon, a proper one with a full set of horns, though these were stubby, thick at their base and coming to softer points as they curved backward over a mass of blonde curls.

“And I see my soul tethers are not…tethering.” The demon chuckled, an all too pleasant sound, tipping her head back so her own black voids for eyes squinted at the yellow lights above. Yellow, just like this demon’s skin.

“You look like a corn muffin.” It was true, but it wasn’t at all what Ember meant to say. “Why did I…” She swallowed hard to shut herself up and felt the blood rush into he r cheeks.

“Maybe my magic is doing something .” She chuckled as she came around to the other side of the bed, and there was a swish of more yellow behind her—a tail . “Well, let’s hope you do not try to eat me.”

A grunt from the side reminded Ember of the horrifying one who still had his claws on her. He was glaring harder now, even with just one eye, warning without words she ought not make any sudden moves.

Ember was sure she couldn’t even make unsudden moves, aches and exhaustion creeping back into her limbs as the shock abated. And right behind was that familiar anger, budding, growing… “You did sorcery to me?”

“Magic,” the female one corrected, conjuring a flame at the tip of her finger and bringing it right to Ember’s nose. “Follow the light.”

The direction was unneeded, the enchanted fire impossible to look away from as it was hypnotically waved this way and that.

“Good!” With a snap, the flame was gone, and Ember glowered at the space left behind. She did not wish to be good for anyone. “Can you tell me your name?”

“Ember,” she mumbled, no reason to lie, though she didn’t expect them to believe it was the truth.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Ember. I am called Balran, and this is Severath.

” She touched the circular symbol embroidered on the chest of her white tunic then gestured to the red demon.

They looked more similar then, both with mostly human features nestled into their odd-hued skin.

Severath’s hair was black like coal though, pushed back from the bandage and falling loose over the nape of his neck.

Another bit of strange movement from the shadows around the edge of the bed caught her attention, and there was another tail—this one red but different than the slimness and triangular point to the yellow demon.

Severath’s tail was thicker and tapered, but then it was gone again, hidden in the shadows.

Balran pursed her lips. “Can you tell me how you feel?”

Pissed off , she thought, and not least of all for being spoken to like the spoiled child of some aristocrat, but she bit down on her lip before those words came out. There was a tickle at her throat, though, and something came out anyway. “I’m scared. Shit!”

“You need the facilities?”

“No! I just…I didn’t mean to say…”

“My spell was meant to comfort you, so perhaps it has made you comfortable enough to say how you feel.” The demon shrugged with a smile, and Ember was taken aback at how pretty she looked.

Maybe that was the female demon’s magic too, but she was certain demons were supposed to inspire only disgust and fear.

“I wasn’t entirely sure how my sedation might affect a human, but a tiny outburst is better than the fit of giggles we had to wait out with the other one.

” She turned to the table beside the bed and picked up a brilliantly green quill, writing something on the parchment stacked there.

If only Ember could read…sh e probably wouldn’t have any idea how to decipher demon script anyway.

“Why did you sedate me?” Ember’s heart pounded and her skin prickled. She tugged her shoulder away from the other one’s touch, but she couldn’t escape it.

Balran nodded at the red demon, and he finally let her go. “Healing your wounds would have been much more painful otherwise. You had a deep laceration along your left anterior forearm and a small fracture in your pelvis, both of which required hasty mending spells.”

As the demon spoke, Ember pushed herself up to sit, and she could feel those aches specifically.

Her hip and arm both complained, but they worked, and that was notably different than how her last captors had treated her.

The blanket she’d been under fell away—also colorful with blocks of knitting in yellows and blues and greens—and beneath, her skin was no longer mud caked.

The grubby sheath dress she’d been forced to wear in prison had also been traded for a much thicker tunic.

Ember wasn’t necessarily clean, but someone had scrubbed her down and stitched her up, and her skin crawled at the thought of unfamiliar hands stripping her.

The yellow demon flipped through the parchment at Ember’s bedside. “My incorporeal examination detected at least one other anomaly: an infection that we’ve begun to treat?—”

She was interrupted by a grunt, and the red demon crossed arms over his wide chest. Despite his coloring, Ember could see a streak of dirt over his elbow and another on his jaw as if he’d been careless while scrubbing himself.

The healer clicked her tongue. “You should be feeling better within the week, but if you notice any swelling or an unnatural change to your skin tone?—”

The red demon cleared his throat.

“Oh, all right.” Balran huffed out a sigh. “We also have a question about how you might have gotten this.” She brought two fingers to her own neck.

Ember’s hand came up to touch the brand below her ear. “I killed a man.” Again, there was no reason to lie, and since she intended to be no one’s slave, especially not a demon’s, it would be a relief if they simply executed her for it.

Balran’s voice went higher. “You admit this with no objection?”

Ember nodded.

A heavy sigh that could only belong to the male demon broke their silence.

“And how many men did you kill out in the Dreadmoor, Severath?” The blackness of the healer’s gaze was leveled at the other demon then, and there was a sting to her words Ember hadn’t expected.

The one called Severath opened his mouth, shock softening the hateful angles of his face—a face that suddenly looked very human despite the iris-less eyes and crimson color. “One,” he simply said and looked away.

“It speaks,” Ember muttered then squeezed her eyes shut. Fuck these demons and their humiliating magic!

But Balran just laughed. “He never says anything very useful, though. Now, you’ll need to take a second dose of this tincture to finish off that infection?—”

“Where in the hells am I?” Ember wasn’t interested in hearing about what kind of shape she was in—she could feel it all well enough. Bad enough too.

“You’re in an infirmary.” The demon spoke with a certain hesitancy, dragging in a long breath before she went on. “Well, you’re in the infirmary actually. We’re on the north side of Aldgate Square.”