Page 68 of To Hunt a Demon King

“Of course,” Cerridwen said, frowning at me and then Carnon. “Did you tell her nothing before bringing her here?”

“It didn’t come up,” Carnon said, sounding completely unconcerned about this new revelation. Cerridwen rolled her eyes in a fair imitation of Carnon, pushing him out of the way so she could walk next to me. He smirked, falling into step behind us.

“Mortals and demons have a…” she hesitated, searching for the words, “symbiotic relationship. The energy from mortal dreams fuels our magic and gives us power. Good dreams work best, so it’s important to all of us that mortals be treated kindly and with respect.”

I frowned. Again, this was so different from what I had been led to believe in the Witchlands, where Vera had told me stories of demons eating babes and torturing mortals for sport.

“And is kind treatment what they get in return?” I asked.

“No,” Cerridwen said. “Although I’m guessing it’s more than they get in the Witchlands.” I pursed my lips, not wanting to confirm what she said as true, even though I knew it was. Mortals were at the bottom of the hierarchy in the Witchlands.“For whatever reason, living with demons grants the mortals longer lives, and makes them less susceptible to sickness,” Cerridwen said, continuing her lecture on demon magic. “Mortals sometimes live up to two centuries here, if they take care of themselves. So it benefits both of us.”

I frowned. Mortals were lucky to live seven decades in the Witchlands. I had more questions, but Cerridwen suggested we get coffee and study the demons who passed so she could explain their courts to me, and I didn’t want to turn down free information if she was willing to offer it.

Coffee turned out to be the bitter drink I hadn’t liked earlier, but Cerridwen suggested adding cream and sugar, which helped immensely.

“Demons from the Court of Blood are known for their blood magic,” Cerridwen explained, pointing out a pair of demons with much longer canines than even she or Herne had. “They drink blood to fuel their spells.”

“Whose blood?” I asked, eyes wide with horror. Cerridwen laughed. “Mostly their mates’, or people they pay. It’s been illegal for demons to take unwilling blood for a decade now.”

“Only a decade?” I asked.

Cerridwen nodded. “The previous king outlawed the practice,” she explained, glancing at Carnon, who frowned at the direction this conversation had taken. He was sitting with an ankle crossed over a knee, looking like a perfectly poised gentleman, except for the bow and dagger he had insisted on bringing along.

“And the current king upheld the ban when he was crowned. He is more progressive than some of his predecessors,” she continued, sipping her coffee and glancing at Carnon again, who raised an indolent brow at her.

“Carnon said the king isn’t kind,” I argued. I glanced between them at the snort of laughter she gave, feeling confused.

“Oh, he’s not,” she agreed. “But he is fair.” Carnon raised his eyebrows at me with a smirk, and sipped his coffee innocently.

“What about the other two courts?” I asked. “Sun and Shadow?”

Cerridwen craned her neck and finally pointed to a blue-skinned demon who seemed to be weaving darkness on a loom in front of a small crowd of onlookers.

“Shadow is just how it sounds,” she said, “they weave shadows and darkness. Some can walk through them.” Cerridwen turned her attention to a street vendor who was spit-roasting meat to sell. I realized the fire for the meat was coming from the vendor’s fingers.

“That’s a Sun demon,” Cerridwen said. The vendor looked totally human, except for her eyes which seemed to be fire themselves, and the short horns protruding from her head. “Again, some can do more with light than simply create fire.”

“What about what I can do?” I asked. “The life and death stuff.” Cerridwen pursed her lips, glancing at Carnon, who had gone extremely still. I almost thought he shook his head, but I must have imagined it.

“No Court can do that,” Cerridwen said finally, dropping her voice to a whisper. “Those are the powers of the gods. Don’t show anyone else, except the king. Promise?” She looked so panicked by the idea that I nodded, deciding not to press her further.

“So,” I said, dropping my voice low to match hers, “if that’s not demon magic, but the darkness is, then how did I get it?” Cerridwen glanced at Carnon again, pursing her lips.

“I don’t know exactly, Red,” he said, putting his hand on top of mine and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Yet. But we are going to try to find out.”

???

I was utterly enchanted by the demon city, and whined like a child when Carnon declared it was time to retire.

“But I’ve never seen a play,” I argued, as he dragged me back to the house, Akela butting my legs in solidarity with his master.

“And Cerridwen can take you to one another day,” Carnon said, shooting his friend an irritated look. “But you have a potentially long day tomorrow, and you can’t go running around an unfamiliar city all night.”

“Cerridwen can take me,” I chirped, turning to her for solidarity. She laughed ruefully.

“Another time, I would love to Elara,” she said yawning widely, her feathery wings flaring as she stretched. I realized I hadn’t even been paying attention to the wings or the horns most of the night. “But I’m beat, and I do have to work tomorrow.”

“Fine,” I sighed, putting on a show of pouting that made Cerridwen laugh and Carnon roll his eyes at me.

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