Page 16 of Humans Don’t Have Horns (A Crown of Blood and Magic #1)

Chapter Ten

Lian

I turn around to see Daton. I can only gape at him, not finding any words through my shock at the sight of him.

He wears a white Aldonian army shirt instead of his old Mongan garment that the direwolves roughly tore up.

It’s ridiculously tight on him, and no wonder, since I’ve never seen a man as broad as him.

He lays down a big army bag, while his other hand grips an Aldonian sword.

It’s obvious these are the belongings of a dead Aldonian.

What is he doing here? Where did he come from?

“Are you hurt?” he asks, scanning my body for injuries with his eyes but keeping his distance.

I shake my head and exclaim, “This is King’s Road! It’s not safe for you here.” When he took me to Renya, he was careful to keep us away from the main roads. He has a bounty on his head, so why is he on King’s Road?

“Apparently, it’s not safe for you either,” he answers wryly. His gaze shifts to Siean, who is silent, her eyes wide in astonishment. His eyes darken as he observes her.

He hands me a canteen full of water. I have so many things I want to ask him, but instead, I wash the blood and gore off my face and hands. I must find a place to clean my body and fast. Being covered in those men’s remains is unbearable. I’m so grateful to Daton for the water.

I should thank him, but Siean speaks to me in a low, frightened voice, “Lian, how do you know his language?”

I stop washing my face and look at her. “I thought Mom must have taught us.”

“Why would Mom know the language of the Cursed Ones? No one knows their language but them,” she replies in admonishment.

Daton never believed my mother taught me Mongan.

This is all related. I don’t understand why, but it can’t be a coincidence.

The language of the Mongans, the direwolves, and now the demichads. What does it all mean?

Daton addresses me again. I know he understood what Siean and I said, since he understands Aldonian, yet he speaks to me in Mongan.

“You talked to a demichad. What did it tell you?” he asks, his voice is cold and reserved.

My sister’s presence seems to make him agitated.

Suddenly, I realize Daton lived during the demichads’ attack.

He is a hundred and eighteen years old, which means he was eighteen when it happened.

Did he fight them? Did he know they were never truly defeated?

I answer him in Aldonian because Siean needs to hear this as well. “That they are coming back. And that they are in much greater numbers than last time.”

His face darkens. “Shit. How much time until they attack?”

“It wouldn’t say. I think it is the first one to wake, and the others will be awakening soon.” I pass the canteen to Siean, and she blinks at me and assesses the canteen as if it’s going to explode.

“We must give warning,” Siean says and rises, ignoring the canteen.

I can’t go back to Renya, and she knows this very well.

My aunt wants me dead, and Renya is not what I thought it was.

But Siean is right. People must know the demichads are coming back.

Being prepared for the attack might save many innocent lives.

“I’ll go alone,” she adds as she notices my brows knitted in concern. “I will tell her only I survived it.”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Daton barks at her in Aldonian. And suddenly, he looks as he did the night he kidnapped me. Rigid with violent intent and hate in his obsidian-black eyes.

Siean looks incredulous at the fact that a Mongan can speak her language.

She steps back, though he has kept his distance.

I can’t blame her. He is terrifying. Yet I realize I’m not afraid of him.

It’s hard to say when exactly I stopped fearing him.

And it’s not only because if he meant to harm me, he could have done so long ago.

Not only because he saved me from the other Mongans.

But it is also because I know him; I know his pain, and I know his honor.

And my visit to Renya has shown me that I can trust him more than my own blood.

He turns to me and says in Mongan, “You can’t let her go back. She will betray you again as all Renyans do. She will tell them of your powers.”

What does he know of her betrayal? Has he followed us? For how long? I sigh. Because he has a point, and yet she must go and warn them. “I can’t stop her, Daton. She’s my sister.”

I couldn’t believe his face could get harsher, but it does, and he narrows his eyes at me. “You said your sister is dead.”

“She did die.” I don’t bother to hide the bitterness I feel.

His gaze moves from me to Siean. “You also said she was the older one,” he says, and in the blink of an eye, his sword is on Siean’s throat.

His free hand grabs her face so her throat is completely exposed to his blade.

Her legs are dangling in the air as he holds her up.

Siean’s hands go to his as she tries to break free of him, her legs swaying, and she whimpers in fear.

“Been consuming a lot of Mongan horns, have you now?” His voice is full of menace.

“Lian,” she croaks for me to help. My sister, who took me to my certain death.

“Wait!” I call for him because, despite everything, she is my sister.

“Did you figure out how one comes back from the dead, Lian?” he says while his eyes are still on Siean.

“Mongan horns, that’s how. And this one hasn’t aged, which means that not only has she come back from the dead, but she’s been consuming it ever since,” he growls, and I see drops of blood trickling from her throat .

“Siean.” My voice breaks in pain and disappointment. How could she do this? How could she let others die for her youth? This is pure malevolence. When did my sister become a villain?

She looks at me with pained eyes. Then she looks at Daton exasperatedly, and I can’t help but admire her for her guts. “Who are you to judge me? I know who you are. Your hands are full of Renyans’ blood, Butcher.”

“And your blood will join them, witch,” he snarls, and she whimpers in anguish as his grip on her grows stronger.

“You Renyan witches hunt us for our horns, and we shall hunt you in turn until the last one of you dies. I will make you bleed for every Mongan that was harvested for your fucking selfish life.”

“Enough.” I touch his arm.

Daton looks at me with eyes widened in surprise.

“There are innocent people in Renya: children, the old and sick, who have never harmed your people. They need to know the demichads are coming,” I say.

He stares at me, his jaw clenched, his eyes searching my face for something. For what, I don’t know.

Relief and surprise wash over me when he lowers his sword and lets go of her.

Siean’s hands reach for her throat. Her eyes dart between Daton and me. “Thank you,” she wheezes to me.

But her gratitude is like a slap in the face, as far as I am concerned. “What are you doing, Siean? I’m glad Mother is dead so she can’t see what became of you, what became of Renya. It is time for you to stop. Stop taking the lives of others. There can be no justification for it. Now go.”

She at least has the decency to look abashed, and she goes without a word. Daton watches her walk away, his hands in fists, his body trembling in what I think is rage.

As she walks in the direction of Renya, part of me is glad my sister is unharmed, and part of me is ashamed of my blood, of my family—ashamed of asking him to spare her .

“You believe she won’t tell them you’re alive? Of your powers?” he asks, his eyes still on her withdrawing figure.

“I must believe she can be better. It’s just too depressing to think otherwise,” I say, my eyes on her back, on her blood-drenched body. He looks at me for a long moment, unreadable, and says nothing.

“I have to get out of here. This place reeks of death. I have to clean off all this blood and gore.”

Daton picks up his bag and starts walking, so I follow.

After a short walk, we arrive at a small creek hidden by trees and greenery.

Daton gives me a clean Aldonian army uniform and a soap bar.

When I ask where he got them, he doesn’t bother answering and just gets out of my way to give me privacy.

A part of me missed his brooding manner.

It grew familiar during the days we spent together.

I’m seriously unhinged to miss broodiness, to miss the Butcher at all.

I feel my sanity coming back to me after I clean up.

Well, at least the part of it that doesn’t involve him.

I wear the white shirt and red pants he gave me, the Aldonian military uniform.

I also wear a pair of new boots he brought me, since even my shoes are covered in gore.

The clothes and shoes are a bit too big but they’ll do.

I braid my hair loosely. I can’t help but wonder what Daton thinks of my colors.

Do colors even matter when you have horns?

They probably do. Most Mongans have black hair and eyes.

Which is kind of a paradox within the True Religion, come to think of it.

If the Cursed Ones are Puresouls who have been cursed for their sins, shouldn’t they have the same coloring as the rest of the Puresouls?

The True Religion never claimed the curse changed their colors.

It couldn’t have, because even though it is rare, there are Cursed Ones with Aldonian colors.