Page 15 of Taken By the Shadow Prince

I’m still not convinced, but I say, “Okay. Goodbye, Benji.”

He dips his chin. “Goodbye, Mavey.”

I watch my new friend walk away with just one thought;I hope he doesn’t die.

Because people will. This war will claim many lives, Aligrians killing their fellow Aligrians. No one’s life is guaranteed.

Not Benji’s. Not Kelsa’s. Not Mair’s or Auley’s or Finch’s or Isa’s or Lillian’s or Ellis’s.

And not mine.

When everyone is hours gone, I set up. I remain in the little meadow at the center of town, where we camped last night. I think over what I will say, how I will say it, the things that I might be required to do to make this work.

It doesn’t matter. I promised Mair that I would get her the demon witches, and since I have utterly failed to make a spell for it, then this is the next best thing. There are more consequences, but...

But it doesn’t matter.

I draw the circle lined with symbols so ancient I’m not sure it’s possible to translate them into the brick path right off the little yard.Bricks, I suppose, isn’t quite what they are. They’re stones and mostly flat rocks fitted together and pushed into the dirt, a path that must have taken months to complete. I wonder how long it took, how many feet had to have worn the surface down, for this path to be as smooth as it is now.

I hope that the thick brew I’m drawing onto them doesn’t stain the path, in case these witches have to return—in case they prefer to, after all is said and done. There’s no guarantee that, even after we’ve won,ifwe do, that they will want to return to living in cities and towns among the fae. I’m sure some will, but others... For others, this is their home now. This is where they feel safe.

The rusty brown, gritty potion is easy to draw with. I’m taking no risks, not after the stories I’ve heard. It’s true that they could be just that—just simple stories with no merit, but I’d much rather not risk my life any more than I already am. If I can just ensure myself the opportunity to get away on the off chance that whoever it is who comes at my call isn’t feeling so kind tonight.

I drank dandelion tea this morning, too, offered to me by the cook after seeing me chewing on some in the grass. Once you get used to the taste, it becomes a simple thing to eat them, especially with how useful their magical properties are. I don’t have to stain my fingers yellow with the flowers in order to touch it.

I finish drawing the circle and stand. I’m glad I brought the book with me—though I’d never intended to dothisspecifically. I enjoy having it as a reminder of what certain plants could do, what combinations worked best, or even just for those simple starter spells, like sleeping potions or ones that gave you energy.

And then there was this. What I am doing now.

I say the words in my head first, mastering them. The last thing I need to do is say them wrong and summon something wholly different from what I am hoping to.

And then I say them. It’s a whorl of consonants, of sharp letters that should not fit together. When I finish the last word—if it can even be called that—I pinch myself, forcing my tears to well. I’d have just sniffed garlic again if I knew where some was, but this is just as effective.

I lean into the circle, just far enough for my tears to drip off my cheeks to the stones inside. I pray that I’ve summoned someone useful, that I won’t wind up with a useless demon to bargain with.

Before I can even pull my head out from the circle—something I wouldn’t have been able to do if I hadn’t remembered to bind the elixir to me, someone’s there. I only catch sight of black boots before I take a startled step back. I didn’t quite expect him to just... appear. I’m not sure what I thought would happen, but something so instantaneous seemed out of the question.

I force my eyes to travel up the length of what I am now finding to be a man. If demons consider themselves men, anyway. His skin is a shade lighter than mine, but not by much. Golden rings gleam on his fingers, one of which is set with a ruby. It’s the only spot of color on him, besides his bright blue eyes. He’s dressed in all black, though even from here I can tell his clothes are made of expensive fabric.

“Hello, girl,” the demon purrs.

He tries to take a step, to move, but he can’t. The brew worked. He looks down at the circle and frowns. “I see you’ve taken precautions. Clever.”

“I’d like to make a deal with you,” I say, voice hard. I’m not nearly as confident as I sound. Really, I’m scared shitless that he’s going to get out of that circle somehow, decide that he’s angry with me for trapping him, and kill me before I can even give him my proposal.

But the demon doesn’t seem all that bothered as his full lips tilt upwards. “I knew that much,” he says. “Go on, then.”

I wonder how much I should tell him. I wonder if I’ve just made a mistake, and if I should try to banish him back to his realm and find another way.

Instead, I say, “I need demon witches. Can you find them?”

His head cocks to the side. I get the feeling he would have crossed his arms, or maybe shoved his hands into his pockets, if he could. He seems so relaxed, so at ease with the situation.

Yet another reason I should fear him.

But the demon just nods. He says, “Yes. For a price.”

I don’t bother saying what I’m sure we both know.

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