Page 67 of To Hunt a Demon King

“I can,” she said with a soft smile. “I can also control birds, if I wish, but I don’t like to if I don’t need their help. You aren’t terrified then?”

“No,” I said, honestly. “I mean, I was expecting you to look much scarier, really.” Cerridwen laughed, and I glanced at Carnon, who was watching me with rapt attention, as if studying my reaction.

He noticed me watching and smirked. “Your turn then, Herne,” he said genially, looking to the giant of a man who was still glowering at me over his bowl of stew. Herne huffed, then gave himself a shake, the glamour falling away far more immediately than it had for Cerridwen. Like her, he had horns, although his were much larger and spoked, more like a stag. His ears were also elongated, and his eyes became large and yellow like an owl’s. No wings sprouted from his back, and I frowned a little.

“You’re different,” I said, looking between them. “Are demons from the same court not the same then?”

Cerridwen smiled kindly. “Each court has its own specialty,” she explained. “Demons from the Court of Beasts have an affinity for animals, and often have animal-like characteristics. Some can fully shift into animals, but others cannot. Herne can see like a bird of prey, and shift into a stag, for example. I have the wings of a hawk, but I can’t become one.”

“And what of the other Dem—Daemon Courts?” I asked eagerly, fumbling over the word but hoping to learn more about this kingdom whose secrets had been kept from me for so long.

“If we are going to give her a history lesson,” said Carnon, standing and stretching in a way that made me think of silk sheets and candlelight. He smirked at me again, and I blushed. “Then let’s take her out for some practical instruction.”

Chapter 25

By “practical instruction,” Carnon meant showing me around the city, where most of the demons would be unglamoured.

Cerridwen explained that demons often wore glamours in the outlying villages and towns because there were more mortals, and some were not used to seeing demons regularly. But Oneiros was evenly populated between demons and mortals, so most didn't bother with it.

I was glad that she used the word for demons I had been raised knowing. It made it easier to not have to think about my choice of words every time I asked a question.

I pulled my cloak around me a little closer in the chill evening air. It wasn’t as cold as I thought it would be, being surrounded by snow-capped mountains, but it wasn’t as warm as I was used to in the Witchlands. Carnon threw an arm around me protectively as we walked—I think both to keep me warm and to keep me from running off to look at things. Akela kept pace next to me, my loyal watch-wolf, and Cerridwen walked on Carnon’s other side.

Herne had stayed behind, claiming to be tired from working all day. “Unlike some people,” he growled, giving me and Carnon a pointed look.

Cerridwen had gone with him to “say goodnight” which took considerably longer than it ought.

“What does it mean, that they’re mates?” I asked Carnon as we waited for Cerridwen to return. He took my hand in his, twining our fingers together.

“It means they are each other’s perfect match,” he replied, looking down at me. “For demons, mating is a bond that is soul deep. Many wait centuries to find their mate, the one destined to be their equal.”

“Who decides this is their destiny?” I asked, frowning. For witches there was no concept of long-term relationships, and mating seemed a strange practice to me. Then again, what did I know? My only romantic experience was with a man I had only known a few days. My stomach flipped a little uncomfortably at the thought. Not because I regretted anything we had done, but because I was worried I might be getting too attached to someone I still barely knew.

“The Goddess,” Carnon said simply. “She is the patron of love, marriage, and childbirth.”

“Childbirth? I asked. The same was true of the Goddess in witch theology, and it surprised me how much our two understandings of the goddess had in common.

“Only mated pairs can have offspring,” Carnon explained, making me blush again like an inexperienced virgin. I was certainly inexperienced, even if Carnon had taken care of the virgin part. He smiled, amused at my discomfort.

“Do Cerridwen and Herne…” I began. Carnon shook his head.

“Not yet,” he said. “It can take several decades. Sometimes centuries.” I frowned, discovering yet another thing we had in common.

The streets were busy as we walked, with many coming from work or going to dinner, or other places. Carnon explained there were several restaurants and theaters in the city, and I mentioned that I had never been to either kind of place. Vera had told me about them in the witch capital, lamenting that her aunt wouldn’t take her more often. Carnon’s brows shot up at my confession, and Cerridwen began a lengthy lecture about the best shows and places to eat in the city, naming herself my guide to all things Oneiros.

There were hundreds of people out and about, both demons and mortals alike. It was strange to me, seeing them living and working in harmony, after being told that the demons had tortured mortals and fed on their fears.

“What’s that look?” Carnon asked me, watching me take in the city.

“It’s just,” I said, watching as some mortal children laughed and clapped at a demon doing magic for them, and mortals haggling merrily with a horned shop keeper. “I was told that demons fed on mortals' fears. But none of these mortals seem afraid.”

Cerridwen laughed. “Who told you that bullshit?” she asked. “We don’t feed on mortal fears. If anything, it’s the opposite.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, as Carnon squeezed my hand a little more tightly.

“Demons feed on mortaldreams,” Cerridwen declared. “The better the dream, the better the magic.”

“What?” I asked, aghast at this idea. “And the mortals know?”

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