"What have you disgraced your home with this pathetic excuse for an eternal for?"

"It's none of your concern who I invite or what I do in my own house. Whether I disgrace it or not. I owe you nothing."

"You might not owe me an answer, but you owe me allegiance, Sleg. And what a greeting!"

"Forgive my alarm, Lunam. You've never shown up unannounced - I didn't recognize your voice with all Buneld's nattering and the clattering of the dishes I was washing."

Darm stayed curled up on the bed. The horrible noises didn't seem to mean that there'd be a fight. Now that he'd listened for a while, he could recognize the cadence of a conversation. It couldn't be language - could it?

"Darmon, bring me the ub - the little box you showed me. Buneld will be here soon. He'll attend to the lump on your head, then it won't ache anymore. And maybe when he's done you won't be so prone to losing consciousness!"

Why wouldn't Sleg just leave him alone? He didn't want to give it to him, but there was no way he was going to argue with that thing here. It was at least eight feet tall and its wings were twice the size of Sleg's.

He grabbed the box out of the bag, got up, and set it on the table, not wasting a second getting back on the bed and turning his back. A loud, deeply disturbing yowling started - laughter? He hoped so.

"You! You there, Darmon. Come and sit at with us. You must tell me about this ub."

The big daemon speaking to him in English had him shaking again. He didn't want to look at it, as amazed as he was by its shimmering blue - everything. "Please? My head hurts so bad I can hardly stand it. I found it in the attic of an old house. I was barely out of childhood. I don't know anything more about it." The thundering and shrieking began again. A calming incantation came to his mind - no! Don't even dream about charming that monster - or Sleg, for that matter.

The chairs scraped on the floor and the nerve-wracking demon chatter moved across the room. The door slammed and it stopped altogether. He didn't move, not caring if they'd left.

It told him he'd hit his head on the floor when he fainted. There was a huge bump - he startled as a hand touched his head. He didn't understand the mumbling and he didn't look around to see who was speaking. The pain slowly faded away and, as it did, so did awareness. The last thing he remembered was cuddling up to a warm, naked body.

***

Darm still couldn't figure out where the light came from, but it was back. Sleg was gone. He felt fine - no more headache. He tapped on the bathroom door. No sound, so he opened it a crack. The tub was full and steam rose from the water. He tested it with his fingers - too hot!

The pitcher was sitting on the wooden bench, clean and empty. Dipping it into the tub, he filled it then poured it out into the basin. Nothing to scrub with. He ran for his pack, bringing it back with him. A clean pair of underwear would do. And he could wash some out.

The door swung open and the demon more flew, than walked, in.

"The tub's full for a bath! What are you doing it that way for?"

"It's too hot - and I didn't know it was for me."

"It's for both of us." It blew on the surface, then stuck its elbow in. "Perfect. Get in." It retracted it wings and clambered into one end of the tub, looking at Darm expectantly.

"But I'm -"

"Do you think I'm hauling water for two baths? Get in!"

He did as he was told, wishing he was someplace, anyplace, else. He had to admit that the water felt heavenly. If he kept his eyes shut, maybe he could enjoy -

"Do my back. It's been itching like mad."

He forced his eyes open. Sleg had turned around and a washcloth had materialized from nowhere. Sighing, Darm decided to just go along with it. He soaked the cloth down and rubbed the demon's back all over.

"Put some muscle into it. It's itchy!"

He scrubbed until he was sure his arms would fall off.

Sleg finally said, "Enough. Your turn."

He slid around and faced the wall. At least he'd get something out of it - "Ow! Not so hard - you'll rip my hide off!"

"Hide? I don't think so."

There was a soft whisper at his ear, warm breath, and Darm could almost feel the demon's lips -

"Delicate as a flower."

He shivered and wished - no, no... He had to pull his mind back into some kind of order. But how could he? Her. Long, shining black hair, shimmering golden eyes, lips so soft, so ... There was no fighting Her off, no way to make Her leave his mind. It didn't make any sense but he gave in to the thrill.

Sleg lightened up but only gave it a once over. "I'm done," it announced as it threw the wet cloth over Darm's head. Then it got out of the tub, dripping all over the floor.

He waited, still longing. Never had he imagined, let alone saw, anyone who looked like Her - he heard the door open, then click shut. Yanking the washcloth off his head, he dunked his hair and got out himself.

There was one towel in his pack and as he reached in for it, he noticed the open compartment - the one he kept the folio in. It was gone! He dug into the bag, feeling around for the box. Then he dumped everything out. It wasn't there either. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip. His old life hadn't been much. But all of a sudden he wanted it back like he wanted air.

He looked all around, straining to listen. He was sure he'd heard it - a dog whining. Now there was nothing ...

***

He'd managed to keep it to chatter - or silence - for the day. The only question Darm had asked was how the place was lit. He'd given up trying to fathom what he'd been told, nodding his head when he guessed it was appropriate. Useless. The demon had seen right through him. Darm retreated to the corner of the bed. He didn't care anymore where the portfolio - or the box - went. Or why the keys were still in the bag.

"Did you mistake a glue stick for your lipgloss?"

There was nothing to laugh at. Nothing. "If I knew what the point was ... Stupid of me to say. There isn't one."

"You have no concept of yourself. And no appreciation for this peace and quiet - it's rare. You should make the most of it."

Make the most of nothing. Worse than nothing. Of being a slave ... entertainment. "You told me you were so bored -" That was a big mistake - too late! Sleg was hanging right over his head, his eyes like golden fires. He was trapped -

"You throw my words back at me? I'll throw something at you, you ingrate! You -"

"Don't hurt me! Please ... " Darm curled up tight. Tears burned his eyes, the black feeling came over him, so deep and dark he could barely get his breath. "Just kill me. Get it over with. I have no purpose. I'm better off dead."

The demon drifted to the floor. Its eyes didn't gleam with rage anymore but Darm didn't care. It walked out without a sound and he didn't care about that either.