Page 25 of The Demon's Secret Baby

I head back to our hidden corner of the ship, my resolve stronger than ever. Soon, my love. Soon we'll be free.

I carefully fold the small scrap of cloth, tucking it into the hidden compartment I've fashioned beneath my thin mattress. It's not much, but it'll serve as an extra layer for Kaelox when thenights grow cold. Every item I manage to squirrel away feels like a tiny victory.

"Mama, look what I found!" Kaelox whispers excitedly, his eyes glowing in the dim light of our hiding spot.

I smile, pulling him close. "What is it, my love?"

He opens his little hand, revealing a shiny button. "It fell off someone's coat. Can we keep it?"

"Of course," I say, taking the button and adding it to our meager collection. "This might come in handy someday."

Over the past few months, I've been meticulously gathering supplies for our eventual escape. It's slow work, fraught with danger, but I refuse to give up. Each morsel of food, each scrap of cloth, each tiny tool is a step closer to freedom.

"Remember what I taught you about escaping if someone grabs you?" I ask Kaelox, keeping my voice low.

He nods solemnly. "Go for the eyes or the groin, then run as fast as I can."

"That's right," I say, my heart aching that I have to teach my five-year-old such things. "And if we get separated?"

"Find a hiding spot and wait for you," he recites. "Don't trust anyone else."

I ruffle his hair, proud of how quickly he learns. "Good boy."

As Kaelox plays quietly with his makeshift toys, I reach down to check the small dagger hidden in my boot. It took weeks of careful planning to steal it from the galley, but its weight against my ankle is reassuring. It's not much against a ship full of pirates, but it's better than nothing.

Each night, I lie awake, planning and replanning our escape. The inventory of our hidden stash runs through my mind like a mantra: dried fruit, a flask of water, a length of rope, the dagger, a crude map I've pieced together from overheard conversations and glimpses of the Captain's charts.

It's not enough. Not yet. But it's a start.

13

VOLEZIMIR

Islam my fist on the grimy tavern table, making the glasses rattle. The dark elf across from me doesn't even flinch, his violet eyes fixed on the pouch of gold I've just tossed his way.

"You better not be shittin' me this time, Zar'eth," I growl, leaning in close. The stench of cheap ale and unwashed bodies hangs thick in the air, but I barely notice it anymore. "I've chased too many dead ends already."

Zar'eth's long fingers dance over the coins, a greedy smile playing on his lips. "Oh, I assure you, this information is quite real, my friend. A ship with a golden minotaur figurehead, just as you described. Spotted near the Veiled Isles, three days' sail from here."

My heart pounds against my ribs. After years of searching, could this finally be it? Could Zylpha be so close?

"The Veiled Isles?" I repeat, my voice rough with barely contained emotion. "That's pirate territory. Dangerous waters."

Zar'eth shrugs, already pocketing the gold. "You asked for information, not safety advice. But yes, it's a treacherous area. Perpetual mist, hidden reefs. Many ships go in, few come out."

I nod, my mind already racing with plans. "Any other details about the ship? Its crew? Its... cargo?" I can barely bring myself to say the word, thinking of Zylpha as someone's property.

"Rumor has it the Captain's a minotaur," Zar'eth says, leaning back in his chair. "Nasty piece of work, even by their standards. Known for raiding coastal villages, taking slaves. But he's smart, keeps a low profile. That's why he sticks to the Veiled Isles."

I clench my fists, feeling my claws dig into my palms. The thought of Zylpha in the hands of such a monster... I take a deep breath, forcing myself to focus.

"How recent is this information?" I demand.

"Fresh as morning dew," Zar'eth replies with a smirk. "My contact saw the ship just yesterday, heading deeper into the mists."

I stand abruptly, my chair scraping against the floor. "If you're lying?—"

"I know, I know," Zar'eth interrupts, waving a hand dismissively. "You'll hunt me down and do unspeakable things to my entrails. But I assure you, this is solid. Go get your girl."

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