Page 33 of The Demon’s Delight (The Demon Princes #3)

Chapter 32

Seir

W e lingered longer than we should have breaking camp in the morning. It was clear neither of us wanted to leave the pretty little meadow where so much between us had changed. But we were too close to our destination not to go.

I made breakfast while Hailon packed away our bedding. We were down to our last changes of clean clothing again, and being in the grasslands with limited water was an excellent argument against staying.

As was the ticking clock for me to return to Hell.

When we finally started down the road, Hailon grabbed for my hand, linking her fingers through mine.

“Did you want to try flying?” I asked.

She shook her head gently. “We don’t have to. We’re pretty close now. We could glide a little, but…” She hesitated, the road ahead of us stretching out both long and short.

“I understand.”

“We should probably fly while there’s nobody else on the road to save time. I’m both anxious and afraid to get back.” I squeezed her fingers.

“We can in a bit. We’ve got time enough.”

“Hailon, I have to go back.”

She nodded solemnly. “You said. When?”

“I have to return before sundown two days from now, if my calculations are right. My unit leader probably won’t summon me the moment the sun sets or anything like that. I do feel pressed to go voluntarily, however. He made it seem as though if I did, he would be able to help me quicker.” I swallowed, already trying to figure out a loophole, not wanting to leave. “If it comes to that, if he summons me?—”

“It won’t,” she said firmly. “We’ll get you back on time. I don’t want you to be punished for no reason. I want you to come back as fast as possible.”

“I would bear it though. For you.” The temporary pain of whatever consequences Keplar would enforce would be worth being sure she was safe before I went. “I’ve likely already faced something similar. If I need to stay a bit longer, I will.”

Hailon sighed. “There is no need for self-sacrifice, Seir. We’ve established I can mind myself well enough.” She wasn’t wrong, but I hated the very idea. “How long will you be gone do you think?”

My heart sank. “I honestly don’t know.”

“What if I banished you, then immediately summoned you again? That would restart the clock, right? What could they do then?”

I stared at her, awed at her thought pattern and doing my best to think of the most accurate answer.

“Never mind. I’m being… I don’t even know what this is.” She blushed and looked down at her feet.

“Hey. Don’t do that.” I lifted her chin with my finger. “I can’t promise it will be easy, Hailon. Or how long it will take to sort things out. I wish I could. I wish I didn’t have to leave you here to do it at all. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I still would have chosen the same.” She gave me a gentle smile. Her words quelled the building storm of fear and worry in my chest.

In the silence between us, I ran through what felt like the most implausible of proposals to take back to Keplar. Nothing seemed the right fit, though.

It was early afternoon when Ravenglen proper loomed into view beyond the pastoral outlying farmlands. First came the needle-like church spire, then the other tall buildings clustered in the village center. It was a bustling place, the people busy, smiling. It appeared on all counts to be thriving.

Hailon had been quieter than normal most of the day despite my efforts to woo her out of her thoughts. It was clear she was anxious over returning on top of dealing with our new bond and needed some time.

I understood that just fine; going home was never a simple prospect, even when it was somewhere you wanted to be. Somewhere you belonged. I didn’t know if that described Hailon’s relationship to Ravenglen or if home was simply wherever her aunt was. She had explained to me more than once her concern over her aunt’s well-being in her absence, and I hoped Sal was as hearty as Hailon, and that they could be reunited quickly.

In truth, I was nervous too. I didn’t know exactly what this meant for us, but I did know I was not looking forward to saying goodbye to this woman, even temporarily. Hell as a whole held little appeal for me after my recent adventures topside, and without her by my side, I worried I’d be terribly bored. Lonely. I enjoyed everything about her company even before the mate bond and the complications it added. I didn’t want to go back to the bland life I’d had before she’d disrupted my routine, not even part time.

Her stride took on more speed once we passed through the broad, tall lintel welcoming us to Ravenglen. There was not a wall nor a fence, but rather a welcoming archway woven from tree branches over the road at the edge of town. Little ornaments made of flowers hung from it, and some bits of colored glass. It was quite charming.

“Everything looks incredible,” she commented as we got into the bustling town center. “It’s cleaner, brighter almost. No more empty storefronts—there were several when I left.” Her head tilted. “Memory is an odd thing.”

Hailon had a singular focus as we walked through the busy village. Several people stopped to stare; indeed, a considerable number did a double take when they saw her. I was not altogether pleased with the way so many faces pinched in recognition. It looked like they’d tasted something sour which made no sense at all. A healer with her gifts surely should have been missed all this time. Nobody came to offer their condolences, however, which seemed positive. Hailon didn’t acknowledge the behavior at all, though I’m sure she saw as much of it as I did.

We walked all the way across the relatively large town to a quiet neighborhood with tidy cottages and flocks of fluffy chickens roaming free from yard to yard. Hailon stopped in front of the one home on the street with herbs in the front planter beds instead of flowers. The roof had seen far better days, and everything looked like it could use a coat of fresh paint, but it looked very quaint. Cozy, even. It seemed quite well maintained for a home with an unwell inhabitant. I hoped that was a good sign.

Hailon seemed a perfect balance of relieved and nervous as she stood in front of the faded blue door. Her hand lifted and dropped again, and she finally looked at me, really looked, for the first time since our stop at midday. “Thank you,” she said. “For bringing me all this way. For getting me home.”

“You’re welcome.” I offered a smile. “Thank you for letting me come along instead of immediately banishing me back to Hell.”

“I did send you back right away. Accidentally,” she kidded, the corners of her mouth lifting.

“You did.” Neither of us had the heart to say out loud that soon enough she would have to banish me for real, whether either of us wanted her to or not.

Hailon looked at the door. She stood on her toes and tried to peek in the window. Still, she made no move to knock or reach for the knob.

“And now you’re the one who’s stalling, Moonflower. Go on. Don’t get nervous. We finally got you here.” I gestured with one hand what I hoped was encouragement.

“Right.” She lifted her hand and knocked, the pattern a particular cadence. A secret knock, perhaps, that only the two of them used. For some reason, that silly little detail made me smile.

The door opened, revealing a petite woman with graying dark hair. “Hailon?” She glanced between us, shock widening her eyes.

“Aunt Sal?” Hailon’s words were steeped in disbelief. “You’re okay! Better than okay. I’m so happy to see you! But how?” She reached forward, pulling the older woman into her arms for an enthusiastic hug. I could see tears of relief shimmering in her eyes.

“You’re here. How are you here?” Sal asked, weakly patting Hailon’s back, before pulling away from the embrace. “Come inside,” Sal said, poking her head out the door after ushering us in, as though gauging to see how many of the neighbors had seen us.

A warning tingled under my skin. That was an odd reaction for an aunt who should have been sick to the point of being on death’s door to ask of a niece who’d been missing for so long. She also didn’t seem particularly excited. I could make allowances for shock, but this woman’s response to Hailon’s homecoming felt all wrong.

“I’ll make us some tea,” Sal said, perpetually moving her body away from Hailon when she got too close.

I stood near the door with our packs, allowing Hailon to absorb being back in her home without my interference. She gazed around, wonder in her eyes.

“Everything is just as I remember.” She smiled at me, and I did my best to nod reassuringly. I had my eye on her aunt, however, and that seemed mutual.

“Are you going to introduce me?” Sal asked, measuring out loose tea.

“Oh! Sorry, I got distracted and forgot my manners. Aunt Sal, this is Seir. Seir, this is my aunt Sal.”

“Pleased to meet you.” I threw an arm across my chest and gave a deep bow. “Hailon has had much to say about you.”

“Has she now?” Sal all but scowled when she looked at her smiling niece.

“Indeed. She’s been very worried about you.”

“Mmm.” The noncommittal noise rubbed me wrong.

“How are you so well, Sal? I’ve spent all these weeks worrying that the worst might have happened! We’ve missed nine treatments by my count. Don’t misunderstand, please, I’ve never been so happy to be wrong. I’m elated to see you up, and so vibrant! I can’t remember when I last saw you so hale and hearty. I just don’t understand how . We’ve relied on me healing you for so long, just to keep you relatively functional. Did you find a new tincture or medicine?”

Sal’s tone was cold, and my hand strayed for a blade without any conscious thought when she looked my mate in the eyes and said, “You really shouldn’t have come back here.”