Page 455 of Evil Hearts

His glamor is gone, meaning he now stands at his usual seven feet tall, and his skin is the color of coal and perfectly smooth. Even his beard is gone. His ears are pointed, fangs peek between his lips, and long, twisting horns protrude from ink black curls on his head. Muscles look sculpted of marble, and his eyes are flat silver, like coins. A sharp, pointed, thin tail flicks against the ground behind him.

The other two are still half-demonic looking. Because they don’t use glamors, it seems they stayed the same. Lyone, however, now looks like the thing he wishes most to be: a full demon.

“What happened?” Pardus asks as he takes his half-brother in.

“There must have been a barrier to take down any glamor spells,” Corel replies. He gestures to me. “Your hair isn’t blue anymore.”

Aw, dammit. It took an hour to get the shade I wanted just right.

There’s a clamor in the distance, and villagers holding ice staffs and wands gather. There’s maybe ten of them, and they all look like they are ready to kill us.

“How dare demons enter here?” one asks, his white eyes filled with anger.

“Wait!” I step in front of the demons, arms out as if I can protect them that way. “Someone here called for help at the Council, and Council Leader Maelstrom refused, isn’t that right?”

The man pauses. “How do you know?”

“I’m Evynn Maelstrom, her daughter,” I reveal. “And we’ve all come to help, if we can.”

The old man glares at me, distrustful. “A Maelstrom in the company of demons?”

“It’s a long story. They need help. You need help. Let’s make a deal, shall we?” I look at him, not moving my attention to anyone else. If he is speaking for the Northern End Isfolk, then he is their leader. The silver-threaded white greatcoat he wears also speaks of someone in a position of power.

My mother preferred designer suits. This man clearly is a bit more ostentatious.

I refuse to be intimidated. I survived my mother, and these demons. I will not let one old man make me back down.

The man nods slowly. “All four of you, come with me.”

We wind up needing to sit outside the Mayor’s small cabin, for he is the Mayor, and that is all the moniker we are allowed to use or know. The demons are too large to fit inside.

“Miss Maelstrom, you see … there is a reason why your mother refused us help, and I can’t say I blame her,” he begins, stirring a thick black coffee with a small spoon. “There is something hiding out there, in the snow forest.”

I nod. “And why should that make her refuse you help against some creature?”

“It is stealing our magic.”

“It? What is … it?” Lyone asks.

“We don’t know. There’s something out there that seems to feed on magic. Clearly Maelstrom City keeps them out, so they must feed on the outliers,” the Mayor explains. “Five of our villagers have lost their magic. If many more do, the balance we help maintain for all of Earth will be upended.

“The world will plunge into heat and darkness.”

Corel stiffens. His magic is balanced in nature. Directly connected to the Isfolk here and the Eldfolk in the Southern End.

“Clearly, we will help,” Corel says, looking over at Lyone and Pardus, who nod. I don’t get a vote here, even though I’m the reason they weren’t turned into ice sculptures already.

“Miss Maelstrom, you said they needed help,” the Mayor says. “What sort of help?”

“None you can give us if your magic gets stolen,” Pardus comments.

“We can discuss payment after we’ve found and eradicated whatever this is stealing magic,” Lyone states.

The Mayor nods, though he looks wary, and rightfully so. “There is a house where you can stay while you’re here,” he says, standing. He looks the demons up and down, taking in their sheer collective mass. “Though I don’t think you’ll fit.”

“I said that too,” I reply before I can stop myself. “Trust me, they’ll figure it out.”

The house is small, even by my standards, and Lyone sighs as he stands outside and does some complex hand movements. Before our eyes, the house begins to grow, at first bulging and pulsing before settling into something comfortable for seven-foot-tall men.

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