Page 36 of Of Spindles and Nightfall
It seemed an eternity before he could move. He sat up, tired and aching. He lifted the envelope that had fallen onto the floor in trembling hands and tore it open.
To my offspring,
You have one chance to impress me. Prove to me and this kingdom that you are more than a worthless use of space or the next time I visit in two days, you will meet your end.
Also, if you ever refuse to take your elixir again, I will kill Gresil.
The Demon Arch King
What couldhe do? How could he possibly gain the great demon arch king’s approval? A helpless burning gathered behind Zarathos’s eyes, and to his horror, a line of wetness traveled down his cheek.
“Zarathos?”
The voice caused him to stagger to his feet, swiping at the tear. He looked toward the doorway and saw a young demon boy standing there. “Casiel.”
His brow furrowed. “Are you all right, Zarathos?”
Zarathos stared at the boy. Was he really calling him Zarathos? Or was that all Zarathos could and would ever hear? He glanced away, refusing to meet his gaze as he nodded. “I just had a visit from my father. He wasn’t happy with me, but fathers are like that.”
“Mine isn’t.”
The letter in Zarathos’s palm scrunched as his claws curled inward. “Is there something you came for?”
The boy smiled. “I thought you might want to go fishing with me?”
He stared at his friend. Hisonlyfriend. Still, the letter’s words burned into his skull. He shoved the parchment into his pocket. “Yes, that sounds good.”
Casiel’s grin grew. “Great! I left my rod downstairs. Grab yours and we’ll walk to the river.”
Even though every muscle in him screamed with fatigue, Zarathos grabbed his rod and some bait from his closet and made his way carefully down the steps to join Casiel. All the while, his mind was spinning, plotting with possibilities.
He feltless, so much less than when he’d seen his father. He reached for his shadow powers and they were there, but they seemed… subdued. This had nothing to do with the effects of his seizure. This was something else. And it scared Zarathos.
Casiel chatted carelessly as they walked. Over the last few weeks, through information his friend had let slip, Zarathos had discovered that his friend’s parents were deeply entrenched in a resistance movement against his father. Not to mention some of the demons involved were shapeshifters, a forbidden form of demons. His friend seemed to have a fascination with the species, but Zarathos’s father hated them with a passion as had the many demon rulers before him.
Of course, Casiel didn’t know that Zarathos was the son of the arch king. His father had always visited discreetly. Nobody knew that the manor home in which Zarathos lived belonged to the supreme leader of the demon nations.
When they reached the river, they cast their lines. Zarathos only gave brief replies to his friend’s incessant inquiries. And Casiel prattled on, not seeming to notice anything different. Zarathos shut his eyes, for a moment shoving everything aside, enjoying the gentle trickle of the water, the slight sway of the trees in the wind. This was his spot. His and Casiel’s, where they might relax and have no concerns.
But no. Zarathos wasn’t a monster. He couldn’t hurt Casiel. His mind grasped about for any other alternative, any other way to satisfy his father and stay alive.
The parchment in his pocket poked at his leg, insisting there was none.
Casiel was the onlydemon similar in age in the nearby town. He had been nothing but nice to Zarathos.
Casiel was a good demon.
In a nicer world, that would matter.
Zarathos had never lived in a nice world.
“Casiel.” He hesitated, but then forged ahead. “I’ve caught a new kind of bait. I forgot to grab it before leaving. But Gresil said it’s supposed to be irresistible to fish. You want to see it?”
“What is it? Is it ratchet critters? Oh, I bet it is a great horned beetle ram.”
Zarathos forced a smile. “It’s a surprise. Come see.”
Casiel lifted his empty rod from the water, excitement sparking in his eyes. “Yes! We have to try it! Let’s go fetch it.”
