Page 23 of The Demon's Delight
Seir actually looked a bit disappointed at that. “Do you know of anyone looking to let or sell a beast?” he asked. “We’d be grateful for a way to travel a little faster.”
She shook her head in a rueful way. “Sadly, no. We’re a small community and only breed as many beasts as we can afford to keep. Lately that hasn’t been many.”
“Thank you,” I said again, and she excused herself out the same big door we’d entered through. “Do you think we’re going to run into a lot of this?”
Seir rubbed at his chin. “I don’t know. I expected at least one farmer would be willing to part with a beast for the right price.”
“Will our food and lodging set us back much?” I wasn’t sure how much money we’d started out with exactly, but I knew my contribution wasn’t nearly as significant as I’d hoped for it to be. The way he’d tossed around gold coins without reservation at the inn made me nervous.
“She gave me the coins back after you told her we had to get to Ravenglen to care for your sick aunt. That was a good addition to the story, by the way.”
I bit the inside of my cheek, wondering how long it would take him to realize that bit about my aunt wasn’t just a line to make our cover story more credible.
“Don’t worry about money. Even if we run out of coin, I’ll figure out a way to get us more. It’ll be fine.”
“We could sell some of the silver or jewelry.” I nodded. That’s why I’d taken it, after all. “We’ll have to offer again tomorrow, just to be polite.”
“Yes, of course. She’s doing a very good job for someone on their own with a property like this. Did you see how fat the chickens are?”
I couldn’t help but smile at his wide-eyed amusement. “How could you tell? They were all fluffed up and roosted for the night. Even a skinny chicken would look large.”
“They’reverywell fed,” he said seriously, nodding as though this were very important. Then he seemed a bit crestfallen. “We had roasted chicken for dinner.”
It had been delicious too. Very comforting. Widow Callahan could open her own tavern as far as I was concerned and make an absolute fortune with her home-cooked meals. Seir’s frown deepened. “Oh. Yes, I’m guessing one of the flock was what we ate, if that’s what you mean.”
He sighed. “Perhaps theyshouldget overnight cuddle privileges with guests if they’re also going to be their meal.”
There was a moment of quiet while he contemplated the sad fate of farm-raised fowl, and I shifted my weight, legs tingly and exhausted. He hadn’t been nearly so conflicted with the wild birds near the cabin.
“Do you mind if I…” I gestured for the bathroom.
“No, no. Go ahead. Take the light.”
“Will you be able to see?”
He grinned. “I’m well acclimated to the dark. I’ll be fine.”
I took the lantern down from the nail it was hung on and closed myself inside the tidy little bathroom. I washed the grime off my hands and face and rinsed out my mouth before deciding a hasty cloth bath would be better than nothing. There was a small tub made from a watering trough, but I had no desire to submerge myself in icy water.
When I was done, I made my way up the stairs—bless Widow Callahan for her ingenuity born of necessity; a ladder would have been far less friendly—and found Seir had spread out two blankets over some nest-like indentations in deep drifts of hay.
His grin was wide and infectious. “This will be very restful, I’m sure of it. Here, like this.” He basically fell into one of the blankets and wiggled around until he was comfortable, his movements exaggerated for humorous effect. His tail thumped along in a contented way as he curled up, his strong, lean body once again reminding me of a cat. I had no idea how he could continue to move like that after the walking we’d done. My limbs had all started to feel like they were weighted with lead before we even left the dinner table.
I shook my head, but my heart had lightened watching him. He found joy in the strangest of places. I was happier he was with me all the time.
“Hailon?”
“Yes?” I removed my boots and the thick socks with a grateful sigh and laid down.
“If I ask you something, will you be honest with me?” He pillowed his head on his hands, looking at me as though about to share some gossip like Sal sometimes did after we wound down from a busy day.
“I guess, sure.”
“I understand if you don’t trust me enough to share something so personal, though I wish you would. Trust me, I mean.”
Words stacked up on one another, clogging my throat. I had a protest half-formed, reasons I shouldn’t. But the truth was that I did. I had no reason not to. To have so much faith in a demon I’d only known a few days left me feeling as though I were standing on a cliff, preparing to jump, and I wasn’t sure why.
“I do.” My voice was breathier than I intended. I cleared my throat and tried again. “I trust you.”
