Page 11 of The Demon’s Delight (The Demon Princes #3)

Chapter 10

Hailon

“ I break my fast early, so don’t worry about making noise if you’re up and about. I’m usually awake before the roosters, much to my dismay. There’s a special kind of joy to be had with a late morning lie-in, but I just can’t seem to make my bones or my bladder understand that.” The kind woman led us to a sizable barn at the back of her property with a lantern in her hand. “You’re welcome to come up to the house for some biscuits and gravy whenever you’re ready. It’s an awfully long way to Ravenglen, I’m sure you’ll be wanting to get an early start.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” I smiled at her, weariness tugging at my bones. “And thank you for sharing your supper with us, that was quite possibly the best cobbler I’ve ever eaten.” There was no lie there, either. She truly had a gift. The woman at the brothel hadn’t exaggerated.

“It’s my pleasure, really. I’m so happy you enjoyed it!” Her gait had a bit of a limp to it as we crossed the uneven ground of the yard. “We get enough visitors passing through with the Scythe only having those four little rooms to offer that I went ahead and installed some facilities out here too.” She winked at me, a grin on her face as she pulled open an oversize door on the side of the closed-up barn. “Was a kindness to myself as well, with this aging body of mine, truth be told. Feel free to use what you need. Water’s straight from the pump, so it cold, but it’s clean.” She gestured to a small bathroom right inside the main door.

“This is perfect, thank you very much for your hospitality.” Seir did one of his fancy bows, his hair brushing the floor. When he stood back up, there were several pieces of straw tangled in the curled ends.

“Well, aren’t you something?” She chuckled, lighting a lantern for us from the one she carried. “There’re blankets and whatnot up in the loft. I leave the animals out in the pasture to mind themselves until it gets a little colder, so you won’t have to worry about waking up snuggled with a goat or chicken.”

Seir actually looked a bit disappointed at that. “Do you know of anyone looking to let or sell a beast?” he asked. “We’d be grateful for a way to travel a little faster.”

She shook her head in a rueful way. “Sadly, no. We’re a small community and only breed as many beasts as we can afford to keep. Lately that hasn’t been many.”

“Thank you,” I said again, and she excused herself out the same big door we’d entered through. “Do you think we’re going to run into a lot of this?”

Seir rubbed at his chin. “I don’t know. I expected at least one farmer would be willing to part with a beast for the right price.”

“Will our food and lodging set us back much?” I wasn’t sure how much money we’d started out with exactly, but I knew my contribution wasn’t nearly as significant as I’d hoped for it to be. The way he’d tossed around gold coins without reservation at the inn made me nervous.

“She gave me the coins back after you told her we had to get to Ravenglen to care for your sick aunt. That was a good addition to the story, by the way.”

I bit the inside of my cheek, wondering how long it would take him to realize that bit about my aunt wasn’t just a line to make our cover story more credible.

“Don’t worry about money. Even if we run out of coin, I’ll figure out a way to get us more. It’ll be fine.”

“We could sell some of the silver or jewelry.” I nodded. That’s why I’d taken it, after all. “We’ll have to offer again tomorrow, just to be polite.”

“Yes, of course. She’s doing a very good job for someone on their own with a property like this. Did you see how fat the chickens are?”

I couldn’t help but smile at his wide-eyed amusement. “How could you tell? They were all fluffed up and roosted for the night. Even a skinny chicken would look large.”

“They’re very well fed,” he said seriously, nodding as though this were very important. Then he seemed a bit crestfallen. “We had roasted chicken for dinner.”

It had been delicious too. Very comforting. Widow Callahan could open her own tavern as far as I was concerned and make an absolute fortune with her home-cooked meals. Seir’s frown deepened. “Oh. Yes, I’m guessing one of the flock was what we ate, if that’s what you mean.”

He sighed. “Perhaps they should get overnight cuddle privileges with guests if they’re also going to be their meal.”

There was a moment of quiet while he contemplated the sad fate of farm-raised fowl, and I shifted my weight, legs tingly and exhausted. He hadn’t been nearly so conflicted with the wild birds near the cabin.

“Do you mind if I…” I gestured for the bathroom.

“No, no. Go ahead. Take the light.”

“Will you be able to see?”

He grinned. “I’m well acclimated to the dark. I’ll be fine.”

I took the lantern down from the nail it was hung on and closed myself inside the tidy little bathroom. I washed the grime off my hands and face and rinsed out my mouth before deciding a hasty cloth bath would be better than nothing. There was a small tub made from a watering trough, but I had no desire to submerge myself in icy water.

When I was done, I made my way up the stairs—bless Widow Callahan for her ingenuity born of necessity; a ladder would have been far less friendly—and found Seir had spread out two blankets over some nest-like indentations in deep drifts of hay.

His grin was wide and infectious. “This will be very restful, I’m sure of it. Here, like this.” He basically fell into one of the blankets and wiggled around until he was comfortable, his movements exaggerated for humorous effect. His tail thumped along in a contented way as he curled up, his strong, lean body once again reminding me of a cat. I had no idea how he could continue to move like that after the walking we’d done. My limbs had all started to feel like they were weighted with lead before we even left the dinner table.

I shook my head, but my heart had lightened watching him. He found joy in the strangest of places. I was happier he was with me all the time.

“Hailon?”

“Yes?” I removed my boots and the thick socks with a grateful sigh and laid down.

“If I ask you something, will you be honest with me?” He pillowed his head on his hands, looking at me as though about to share some gossip like Sal sometimes did after we wound down from a busy day.

“I guess, sure.”

“I understand if you don’t trust me enough to share something so personal, though I wish you would. Trust me, I mean.”

Words stacked up on one another, clogging my throat. I had a protest half-formed, reasons I shouldn’t. But the truth was that I did. I had no reason not to. To have so much faith in a demon I’d only known a few days left me feeling as though I were standing on a cliff, preparing to jump, and I wasn’t sure why.

“I do.” My voice was breathier than I intended. I cleared my throat and tried again. “I trust you.”

His sharp smile appeared for a brief moment. Even that was growing on me. It was no longer strange, just endearing.

I shifted around in the little nest, copying his position. With my head on my bicep, my nerves ignited as I met his eye and shared the truth. I pulled at a piece of straw that had poked up through the weave of the blanket.

The corners of his eyes pinched with sincere concern. “I can understand anyone would want to return to their home, especially taken the way you were. But you also said you have to get back for your aunt?”

“Yes.”

“Because she’s not well?” I nodded, and he frowned. His tail seemed anxious, winding and unwinding around his leg. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. She’s been sick a very long time.”

His expression was contemplative but open as he mulled over this information. “How long have you been gone?”

Dread curled around the lovely dinner in my gut, leaving me cold. Too long . “By my count, seventeen weeks.” I’d never been away more than a single week before, and that was when Sal was far healthier. My trips into the mountains for rare herbs and flowers were always carefully scheduled around times I could afford to be away—generally those coincided with her healthiest times. I never left unless I could have Merry from the grocers or Gerald from the candler check in on Sal when they made deliveries.

“Do you use your ability on her?” he deduced quite wisely.

“Yes. Routinely.”

“How many healing sessions has she missed?”

“Eight. Almost nine.” The long silence was heavy.

“I will do everything I can to get you home quickly.”

Something behind my ribs expanded at his solemn expression as he made the promise again, at the way his hand reached for mine across the borrowed blankets and squeezed my fingers. His thumb idly traced along my knuckles, and my throat clogged again. I breathed in through my nose, heart aching with every beat. I’d known this demon a length of time that could be calculated in mere hours, but he’d shown me more care, kindness, and loyalty than almost anyone else in my entire life had. “Thank you.”

He smiled and wriggled around some more, fluffing areas of hay here and there. “I should go wash before getting too comfortable.” He bounced back to his feet, wading through the straw. He disappeared down the stairs, leaving the light behind.

My mind was tired but spinning, trying to compartmentalize everything that had happened since Seir appeared in my room. I hardly knew how to handle several days of decent meals, good sleep, and a trustworthy constant companion.

I curled my legs up tighter to my chest, the straw bed indeed quite comfortable with the help of the thick, clean-smelling blanket. With my head pillowed on my hands, my eyelids grew heavy. Once I closed them to ease the gritty burn, it was already too late.

The sound of Seir coming up the stairs registered in my mind, but I couldn’t have moved if I wanted to. My body had given over completely to resting. He blew out the lantern and shuffled around a bit in the straw.

“Sweet dreams, Hailon.”

Sleep took me as the warmth of another blanket was gently draped over my body.