Page 47 of To Hunt a Demon King

“So what is Oneiros like?” I asked.

I had slept like the dead for almost twelve hours, finally waking when my stomach rumbled loudly enough that I could no longer ignore it.

Hunt, or Carnon, I supposed, had been awake when I first rose, hair damp from a bath and brows raised in annoyance. He had told me to eat, bathe, and be ready to go in twenty minutes, and now we were back on the road with night falling. Akela had run ahead to scout the road, and as hard as I tried to make out the landscape, it was impossible to see much beyond the shapes of hills in the darkness. The horse must know the way, because I could hardly see the road or the looming mountain range in front of us.

Once again, Carnon had wrapped an arm around my waist to force me to lean into him, and I was desperate to make some kind of conversation to avoid the awkwardness of the last day or so.

“It’s big,” he replied, eliciting an eye roll from me.

“Can you describe it please?” I asked, trying and failing not to let my impatience bleed through the request. Hunt—Carnon, Goddess it was going to be hard to use his proper name—grunted behind me.

“I’m not sure how to describe a city to you, Red,” he said. “There are buildings and roads and a lot of people.”

“But is it nice? Or dirty? Are the people like those in Mithloria?” I pressed.

“Like anywhere with a lot of people, there is variety,” Carnon said, giving me infuriatingly little to imagine. “You’ll just have to see it for yourself.”

“And do you live there?” I asked. “Or closer to Mithloria? Near the people who know you?”

“I’m regretting telling you that you could ask me a thousand questions,” Carnon growled behind me.

I smiled, pleased to have provoked him a bit. “But you did, and I have more,” I said enthusiastically.

“I told you before,” Carnon said. “I’m from all over.” I rolled my eyes and prayed to the Goddess for patience.

“How did you become a lord?” I asked, trying not to sound as irritated by his evasiveness as I felt. Despite my blunder with the leshy and the lying and probably a thousand other things, I wasn’t a complete idiot. Carnon was purposefully not telling me who he was, and it irritated me. Now that he knew most of my secrets, I wanted to have his.

Also, I was…curious. I was interested in him, and based on his reaction on Beltane, he was interested in me too, at least physically. If there was to be any hope of pursuing the intriguing activities he had suggested before my grandmother’s message ruined everything, we would have to get to know each other as more than circumstantial travel companions with too many secrets between us.

“If we’re doing this,” Carnon said, the arm around my waist squeezing a little tighter, “then I demand some answers as well.”

“Game of truths, then?” I asked, trying to twist in the saddle to see his face. He squeezed his arm tight around my waist, and I stopped wriggling.

“Not much of a game, but if you insist, yes,” Carnon said. “I became a lord because I was born a lord. My turn.”

“That was a boring answer,” I whined, hoping for something a bit more exciting than hereditary succession.

“You asked the question,” Hunt—Carnon, damn it all—replied with a chuckle. “Why are you running from your grandmother?”

“I told you that,” I said, frowning. “Mama thinks she will kill me because of the demon magic.”

“Do you think she knows?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I said, biting my lower lip. “Clearly she knows I’m missing, and where I’ve gone, but it’s possible Mama was able to lie to her. Goddess, I hope she’s alive.”

Carnon squeezed again, this time in comfort. “Your turn,” he rumbled. I knew he was trying to distract me from worrying about Mama, and I appreciated it.

“How long have you known the Demon King?” I asked.

“All my life,” Carnon replied.

“Really?” I asked. “Are you friends?”

“Something like that,” Hunt said, a frown in his voice. “It’s more like I work for him.”

“As a hunter?” I asked.

“As whatever he happens to be needing,” he replied wryly.

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