Page 396 of Flirting with Darkness

He pauses and we cross a small stream with red and gold fish swimming against the current. “I was about to say your screeching, high pitch of hysteria attracts far more attention than my speaking voice.”

“I am not—” I take a beat and lower my pitch. “I’m not screechy.” I’m not hysterical either. Doesn’t he recognize a crisis of faith when he sees one?

“We’ll have to agree to disagree,” he says, and leads us to the opening of a small cave.

I stop just before the entrance, despite his insistent yanking on my arm. When he eventually turns back, annoyance draped on his every feature, he looks me in the eye and tugs once again.

I snatch my arm away. “I am not a dog or a horse to be led about, and I am not setting foot in that hovel.” Who knows what sort of creatures made this outcropping of stone their den.

To my amazement, the demon drops my arm. “Fine. Stay out here and become dinner for thesluaghor thebánánach.” He turns on his heel and enters the black mouth of the cave.

I spin around, intent on finding a better place to rest, searching the nearby area for something suitable. I can’t go too far, or the bond at my wrist buzz and hum in warning. I don’t much want to find out what happens after the warning.

I spend about a half an hour looking for something better than a damp cave but find nothing.

At least, I think that’s how long it is.

I soon regret that choice when a shadow blots out the light. I glance skyward, expecting an enormous bird, and suck in a sharp gasp at seeing a fully darkened sky.

A moment ago it shone bright as midday.

“What in the…” This isn’t simply twilight. It can’t be.

Eerie howling pricks the back of my neck, sounding like no animal I’ve ever heard. It’s far too close for my comfort, so I choose the lesser of two evils and sprint back toward the cave.

“Hello?” I call out in the pitch blackness.

“Quiet!” the demon snaps, and a small fire comes to life a dozen feet inside the cave. He’s not hunched over the fire as I would be with the effort of building it, but lounging behind it. His leathers lie in a pile next to him, only a thin tunic and linen trousers between him and the damp cave floor.

The cave is significantly cooler than the woods, and I waste no time huddling up to the flames. “Are you sure it’s safe here? And why is it suddenly dark?” I ask in a hushed whisper.

He locks eyes with me over the flickering fire. “You’re safe as long as you stay with me, little bird.”

Hardly. He wants me charged and hung. Beheaded. Or, given his predilection for fire, burned at the stake.

I eye him, weighing the truth of his words, before moving on. “There’s that name again. Why do you call me that?”

He blinks slowly, as if time and conversational norms are too banal for his sensibilities. “You’ve asked three questions in quick succession. It is not my habit to answer any questions posed to me, especially from a human.” His inscrutable gaze roams my form. “However, I find you amusing, so choose one and I’ll deliberate on my response.”

I curl my lip at him. “Take your pick.” Prig.

His gaze doesn’t leave mine as he draws out the space between his next words. He toes the outermost log farther into the fire before drawing a breath to speak.

“It’s dark because the realm recognizes its king has returned.”

“I see. So your realm hates you too, then.”

His eyes darken, firelight dancing in the depths, and for the briefest moment, I swear I see laughter dancing along with the flames. “Do your lessons no longer teach the ways of the fae realm?”

My chin lifts at his tone. The implication that I’m not educated enough for His Highness straightens my back, hones my ire. “I’m a Keeper. My father taught me scripture and demonology, baneful and name magic, along with the history of the world, arithmetic, strategy, combat, and survival skills. Which is why I did not want to enter a cave likely used by a bear and her cubs.”

“Survival skills, you say. And yet you don’t recognize the predatory company you keep.”

“I recognize a demon when I see one.”

He ignores the comment completely. “And since your Keeper father taught you name magic, you know very well why I call you all manner of things thataren’tyour given name, Liesl Aderyn.”

“That only works on demons.” My words crumble just as they find form beyond my lips.

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