Page 26 of To Hunt a Demon King

“Of course I do, girl,” she said, gesturing around the room. “How else could I do all this?”

“Is this why you live out here alone?” I asked, frowning at the blood dribbling from Hunt’s arm. “Were you exiled?”

“I’m sure that’s the story your Crone would tell,” the woman said, pulling empty glass vials from her pocket. “Now get undressed before you undo all of my hard work.”

“What?” I asked, startled by the request.

“Your clothes, girl,” she said impatiently. “If you stay in wet things then all of my healing will be for nothing. There’s a spare shift in that room over there.” She waved her hand toward the newly visible door, and I looked questioningly at Hunt. He nodded toward the door.

“Go on,” he said, watching his blood trickle into the bowl. “This won’t take long.”

Akela went with me, and I found the room sparse, but comfortably appointed with a smallish bed, a plush armchair, and another fireplace. As the old woman had said, there was a plain white nightshift on the bed, and I quickly undressed, peeling off my wet clothes and laying them to dry over the armchair in front of the fire. I tried not to think too hard about the fact that there was a spare shift in my size, or that there was nothing for Hunt to wear.

“This is not how I pictured spending the week before Beltane,” I said to Akela, stroking his furry head as he sidled up next to me. Usually the week before Beltane, or May Day, as the mortals called it, was spent weaving flower garlands and praying to the Goddess and preparing ceremonies. Here I was, traipsing through the woods and nearly being eaten by leshy and rusalka as I ran from my own grandmother for possessing magic I couldn’t understand, or even currently access.

My hair was still wet, and the shift, although modestly cut, was somewhat see-through. I pulled a blanket off the bed to wrap around myself as I padded on bare feet toward the door, which was still open a crack.

“You could have taken care of her yourself,” the woman said, sounding annoyed. I paused at the door, listening in case I could learn something about the huntsman and the hedge witch I now found myself in company with. “Unless you have a reason to hide your nature from the girl?”

“You know my reasons,” Hunt replied. “And I would never give up the pleasure of visiting you.”

“Humph,” the woman replied, the sound of the wooden bowl scraping on the table. Were they done with the blood letting? “She’s an odd little thing. I suppose that’s why you brought her to me.”

“You know me well,” Hunt said. I heard a chair scrape, and I backed away swiftly from the door, moving to sit by the fire and pretend I hadn’t been listening. A few more words were exchanged, which I couldn’t hear, and then the door opened. Hunt looked massive in the tiny door frame, and he leaned an arm on the lintel as he peered in at me.

“You can come out now, Red, if you’re done eavesdropping,” He said, a slight smirk turning up the corners of his mouth.

“I was not eavesdropping,” I said indignantly, standing and wrapping the blanket more tightly around me.

“Liar,” he said, stepping aside so I could pass through. “You heard every word.”

I refused to dignify this with a reply, especially since it wasn’t true. I had only heard most of the words. Instead, I looked Hunt up and down, trying to see if there was a cost for the blood he had given. His shirt and vambrace were back in place, and he looked otherwise unbothered.

“Your clothes are dry,” I said, frowning at him as I sat at the tiny table.

“Magic is good for that,” Hunt replied, taking the chair across from me. “And the Hag here is a bit more adept at it than you seem to be.” I scowled at this, earning a chuckle from Hunt in return.

“Why did I have to change, then?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest in annoyance, and to hide behind the sheer fabric.

“Because you didn’t pay,” Hunt said pointedly, nodding toward his arm.

“Don’t take offense, girl,” the old woman said, dropping a bowl of something steaming in front of me. I had no idea when she had found the time to cook, but again, her magic was certainly different than mine. “You too may be this capable after a thousand years.”

“A thousand years?” I asked, completely incredulous. This witch was ancient. Far older than even those in the Witchlands. “So, you were alive when the witches and demons lived side by side?”

“I was,” the witch said, clearly unwilling to elaborate more on her experience. She placed a bowl in front of Hunt and then sat, resting her chin in her hands as if studying me.

“Why did you say I was odd?” I asked, giving up the pretense that I hadn’t been listening. The witch’s milky eye gleamed in the firelight as she smirked a little.

“I have a strong suspicion you already know,” she said, looking me up and down. “Even he can sense it,” she added, tilting her head toward Hunt.

“Akela sensed it first,” Hunt said, taking a bite of whatever was in the bowl. Since he didn’t fall down dead, I assumed it would be safe enough for me to eat. “I’m certain that’s why he stayed with you. Are you going to tell me why you’re running, yet?”

“No,” I said, taking a bite of what appeared to be some kind of soup. It was thin and runny and rather tasteless, but it was warm, so I ate it. “That’s not part of our bargain.” The old woman cackled as if what I had said was the most amusing thing in the world.

“She’s a sharp one,” the witch said, raising a brow at Hunt. “Be careful with her.” I looked on, confused as the old woman stood.

“You can stay here tonight,” she said, gesturing to the room we were sitting in. “But you’ll be out by morning, or I’ll be having some of her blood too.” She shuffled off toward the room where I had left my things, closing the door behind her.

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