Page 17 of Red Demon

I just stared, bewildered.

“Tell your unit we are toeing the line for the empire and you will find nothing in this shop you won’t find in our empire paperwork.”

“I don’t know what that means,” I pleaded.

“Even so.” He shifted his stance. “I watch my trade secrets too carefully to hire a strange boy. I won’t put a sword into the hand of someone who might kill me in my sleep.”

His words struck like a hammer blow. Every clang in the shop rang through my chest. My hope, so bright only minutes ago, sputtered and died.

And that’s when I saw Asher walking over. His smile wilted to dust at whatever he saw on my face.

But I didn’t wait around. Humiliated, I picked up my pack and strode out the door.

Cool damp wind slammed against my face as I emerged from the forge, its warmth already missed. I strode toward the market, trying to regroup my thoughts.

There would be better days, just not today.

“Jesse!” Asher called, as confident and warm as if he’d said my name thousands of times. He chased me halfway down the street in his thin black tunic, his tan arms bare for the heat of the forge.

I hesitated, torn between the comfort of his presence and the need to lick my wounds in private. “You look cold.”

He stopped short, a grin struggling to find purchase on his soot-stained face. “I’m sorry for what my dad said.” He shivered. “I didn’t want to miss you.”

The unabashed absurdity of that last statement warmed me from the inside out.

“Thanks, Asher,” I said, unable to mask just how starved I was for even a word of kindness. “I can’t blame your dad, though. He doesn’t know me, and there are a lot of dangerous people wandering around Noé these days, right?”

Asher scoffed, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Not you, though. I’ll tell him that. He’ll trust my dahn.”

That word again. “What’s a dahn?”

He rubbed his hands together in the shivering cold. “Given talent. Power,” he said in Chaeten. At my confused look, he said: “Magic—born, not trained.”

“Oh.” I blinked. Only elite Z’har could use Asri magic, or the queen. I thought it was illegal for everyone else. But Asher didn’t seem to be talking about the sort of magic that could destroy minds or tech. This must be something else. “So your dahn is knowing who’s an asshole and who isn’t?”

His face fell. “You wouldn’t be the first to be suspicious that this is a real thing.”

“No, I—” I put a hand on his shoulder when I couldn’t get the words out fast enough. “I’ve just never met anyone with a dahn before. I just wish I had someone like that around.”

He grinned at me then, looking back toward the forge as he hugged his bare arms to his chest. “I better get back. Will you be in the market tomorrow?”

“Today, at least.” I should at least try to sell what I came here for.

“Right, well, I’m going to try to finish up quick before you run out of strawberries.”

I set down my pack and fished out a basket for him. “No need.”

“I don’t have any coin on me. Walk me back to the forge and I’ll grab some?”

“Not a chance.” I laughed. “It’s fine, really. Please tell your dad they aren’t poisoned.”

I felt that heartache thing at the sound of Asher’s laugh, certain I’d never hear that sound again.

Chapter 8

The Worst Way I Know to Make Friends

The wind blew damp and chilled that night, and Galen’s words gnawed at my mind. “ I wouldn’t put a sword in the hand of someone who might kill me in my sleep.” They didn’t cut deep enough to make me hate him, but the sting kept me from getting much rest. I surrendered and rose while it was still dark.