Page 45 of Hell-Bound

Jester bedded down, curling his red tail around his leg, before turning his back to her, “Night night, Elfy,” he said softly.

“Good night, Jester,” she whispered back automatically.

In less time than it took the light to vanish, Jester was snoring softly, twitching every so often in his sleep.

Sleep didn’t come easy to Ren. Her body, usually so reliable, refused to get comfortable.

I’m not an outside girl,she thought irritably.

After several hours trying and failing to sleep, she sat up and dug into her satchel, which she was using as a pillow, and felt around for her piccolo.

Not wanting to wake Jester, she made her way past several trees soundlessly. She perked her ears and listened,trying to make out any sounds to indicate creatures or beasts nearby. With Elf blood, her hearing tended to be better than most other beings.

She looked at her piccolo.

“No more playing evil music. Okay?”

The piccolo remained cold in her hands.

Satisfied, she brought her piccolo to her lips and softly played. The song was low and quiet, something new for her new adventure. She thought of her new companion and decided that, though she probably couldn’t trust him, she was glad to not be alone.

The melodic notes about him were lighter—more lively to show his spirit and sharp wit. She surveyed her mind for more inspiration for her song, but try as she might, her mind kept fixating on Azur. It wasn’t shocking—he owned her soul. But was it just this that kept her thoughts returning?

He truly was devastatingly handsome.How unfair.Evil things shouldn’t be so spectacular. They should be gross, oozing with slime.

But, being as it was, she felt that a song about him wouldn’t be gross or macabre, but instead, she felt that it would be deep and moving. Mysterious. Notes hidden under layers of notes.

Ren.

She felt the voice before she heard it. She stopped playing.

Azur! I didn’t summon you!

Ren. You must stop.

No! I want to be alone!

She mentally shouted the words, recalling what Jester had told her about severing the connection.

The last thing she heard was a rumble of frustration before. Sweet, blissful silence.

Relief. Finally, some semblance of control. She sighed, once again lifting her piccolo to her lips but suddenly, it vibrated, and her ears perked. A low guttural growl came fromher right. She twisted around to gain her bearings, reaching slowly for her dagger. Her heart began to pound.

“Ren! Run!”

And thenblack.

Would that I could start over.

Ren slammed back into consciousness as she felt a sharp pain in her chest.

“Ren, run!” Jester screamed.

She saw nothing. It was too dark. She sat up—clutching the wound on her chest, feeling the sticky blood seep out.

She heard a high screech before the air became unbearably cold.

“Jester! Where are you?” she screamed, trying to scramble to her feet.

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