Amorastra and Nystri walked for more than five hours before it began to get dark and they decided to rest. Or, rather, they walked in five or ten minute bursts until Amorastra found something off the path to go look at. A flower, a long forgotten waystone, an arborkeeper rat (which Nystri called out of hiding for Amorastra to pet), and even a fairy circle. Though, Nystri insisted they move on from the fairy circle without inspecting it. 

Nystri found them a small clearing to camp in, though camp felt the wrong term to Nystri, considering they had no supplies with them. She got down from Amorastra's shoulder to go inspect the area. 

“Can you make a fire? It’ll be cold tonight, but not so cold as to kill either of us,” Nystri said.

“You’re welcome to sleep with me, Majesty. I’ll keep you very warm,” Amorastra said.

Nystri ignored her and began collecting kindling and underbrush.

Amorastra continued, “I can certainly make a fire, though I didn’t suspect the fae would approve of such a thing.”

“The forest gives what I will it give. And I will it give us warmth,” Nystri said distractedly. 

“Well, we shall not lack for comfort, I assure you, my Queen. Pebble!” Amorastra snapped her fingers and a minor demon appeared bowing before Amorastra. The birds and rodents that had begun to gather scattered at the sight of it. 

The minor demon began to look around and said, “I am here to serve, mistr–” Amorastra kicked him hard in the face with her good leg. He tumbled two yards away slamming into the side of a tree. He gasped and yelped, but held in his scream. 

“Silence, dog. You are not worthy to look upon the Queen of the Fae. Prostrate yourself and come here.” The demon obeyed, scrambling off of its back and crawling towards Amorastra with its nose brushing the ground. “Better. Now get my tent ready. And do not dare to look up.”

“Yes, my princess. I mean, woof.” The demon opened the bag that hung around his shoulder and began to pull long poles and rolls of canvas from it and put them in place.

Nystri watched the exchange slack-jawed. Finally she recovered and said, “Amorastra! What do you think you’re doing?”

“Why, simply setting up camp, Majesty,” Amorastra said easily as she sat in a high back chair that the imp had somehow produced from that small bag.

“No. I mean that. Well, that thing. How could you summon a demon to these woods!?”

“Perhaps your Majesty has forgotten,” Amorastra said, making a grand self-indicating gesture, “But I, too, am a demon. And this lowly imp is under my control. He’s of no threat to anything, except, perhaps, my ability to keep my food down.” She kicked him again, but lighter this time.

“He’s scared away all of the…” she trailed off. Yes, the imp had scared away all of the birds and rodents. Even the foxes dared not approach. Aside from the imp’s sniveling and the sounds of putting Amorastra’s quite expansive tent together, their little clearing was silent. No cries of adulation. No murmurs. No one coming to pay their respects. Nothing. Just, quiet. 

Nystri collected herself, “I suppose, if you vouch for him and hold him to our contract, I’ll allow his presence.”

Amorastra narrowed her eyes and tilted her head. Slowly she pursed her lips and nodded a few times to herself. Then she relaxed her expression and said, “Of course, Majesty! He’ll be most well behaved, won’t you dog?”

Woof, came the only reply. He was working quickly and had already assembled the frame of the tent and was now working at driving stakes and fastening the canvas. 

Nystri returned to the center of the clearing and deposited her little bundle of kindling. “Why are you so mean to him? He seems a decent enough servant.” 

A brief look of nausea passed over Amorastra’s face. “Imps must be kept in their place, lest delusions of betrayal begin to form. Plus, he’s revolting.”

Nystri watched him clamber up the frame hauling the heavy canvas with him. He was, indeed, disgusting. Bulbous eyes, scrawny, snaggletoothed, and he moved with a disquieting gait. Yet, despite it all, she found him somehow cute. 

“Pebble, you called him?” Nystri said. 

“The latest in a long list of names he’s been given. Though, I’ve been calling him simply ‘dog’ more often recently.”

“I would bid him present himself before me.”

Disbelief was plain on Amorastra’s face, but she said nothing to Nystri. “Dog. come grovel before your new queen. Do as she bids you and nothing more.”

Pebble cinched the rope he had been tying and nearly fell over himself getting down the side of the tent. He planted his forehead into the dirt and crawled forward towards Nystri stopping a few feet away, a small mound of soil built up against his head.

Nystri took a few strides until she was within arm’s reach of him. He was twice her height, just barely more than two feet tall. He shook with fear, his eyes screwed shut.

“Open your eyes Pebble and look upon me.”

“This one is unworthy, your Queenlyness. Forgive my existence.”

“I command you, Pebble! Raise your head.”

Pebble hesitated, then slowly raised his head just enough that he could open his eyes and see Nystri. After half a second he closed his eyes again and bashed his head against the forest floor and quivered.

“What is your impression of me, Pebble? Speak true.”

“Your radiance and beauty are even more than I could have imagined, your Queengracely,” he said, then quickly added, “Rivaled only by my master, of course!”

Nystri chuckled and said, “Of course. You are a most loyal servant, are you not?”

“Yes. Most loyal! My lady commands and I obey as best as this lowly one might manage.”

“Good. Such a place as yours is one of quiet esteem. Never forget that,” Nystri said. Then, just loudly enough that Amorastra might hear her, “See that you remain loyal and true to your lady, and I’ll see if I might talk her into lessening your beatings, hm?” 

She placed a hand upon his brow and Pebble pressed himself further into the earth away from the touch. His mouth was half full of dirt as he said, “Yes, Queeny. I’ll do as you say!” 

“Good. Back to work with you now.” Nystri looked up at Amorastra and they shared an amused smile. “May I join you?” Nystri called up.

“By all means, Majesty.” 

Nystri crouched low and sprung into a mighty leap, easily reaching the three foot tall plush arm of the chair. She sat with her legs dangling off the inside edge to face Amorastra. 

Amorastra said, "You know, my Queen, I thought for a moment you might object more forcefully to my treatment of him." 

Nystri shrugged and shook her head, "Pixies and fairies have been known since the dawn of time for their cruel pranks and tricking mortals into even crueler contracts. How you treat him is ultimately up to you. I hope you don’t feel I’ve overstepped my bounds. I know little of the dealings between demons.”

“Not at all! I highly doubt you could overstep, to be honest. And, I daresay, I like your approach. You’ve provided him a carrot when all I have to offer is sticks.”

The first chill of dusk raised goosepimples on Nystri’s skin. “Speaking of sticks, I should gather more fuel.”

Amorastra waved away the thought, “Let the dog handle it. Pebble! Prepare a fire. Very warm, but not too bright.”

“Yes, mistress!” Pebble said. He had just secured the largest piece of canvas and half slid half fell down it. He began producing cylinders of wrought iron then finally an iron dome taller than he was with a tapered hole in the top. In the front of it was a grated door. He attached the legs and turned it upright, then pulled out several bags of coal and charcoal. He placed the fuel inside and began snapping the fingers of one hand over the coals. With each snap there was a burst of fire but no flame caught.

Nystri called out, “Pebble, use that pile of kindling I gathered.”

At the sound of her saying his name he yelped and threw himself to the ground, banging his head hard on the stove as he did. He buried his muffled cries in the dirt.

“Dog!” Amorastra said. “Do as she says at once!” 

Forgetting his pain he looked around until he saw the kindling Nystri had collected. He went to it, but hesitated. His breath caught in his throat as he bent over to lift it. He gulped hard, then gingerly—reverently—raised the bundle up. Careful to not drop a single leaf he padded back to the stove and placed it inside. He snapped his fingers again and the flame caught. He blew into the stove, but each breath produced a wet slapping sound.

Amorastra massaged her forehead with three fingers, then said, “Leave it, Pebble. Finish setting up my lodgings. We’ll finish the fire.”

Pebble begged her forgiveness and went back to the tent. 

Amorastra began to stand, but Nystri spoke up, “Stay, stay! I can take care of it from here.” She smiled up at Amorastra, then placed her curled knuckles against her lips. She took a breath and as she blew it out she extended her fingers as she might cup them to take water from a stream. A breeze picked up and the fledgling fire was soon burning hot.

“You seem quite happy, Majesty,” Amorastra said. “Despite the fact that you're far from home and you’ve taken it upon yourself to escort a powerful demon from your lands. And that you sit with that very demon now.”

Nystri watched Amorastra closely as she spoke. Nearly everything Amorastra had said today sat on the edge of mocking sarcasm. Every Majesty, my Queen, your Grace. Every smile, every laugh. Nystri was quite familiar with language layered with subtext and subterfuge. Manipulation sandwiched between contempt and flattery was the only language fae nobles seemed to speak. Yet, beneath that mocking sarcasm Nystri could only find joyful playfulness—dare she say it—even sincerity. Either this demon was a better liar than every fae noble she had ever met, or …

Nystri held Amorastra’s gaze. “There are few others I could count on to keep you in check. It’s my duty to protect my realm, and I do it gladly. You do know of duty, do you not?”

A smile played at Amorastra’s lips, “I know of avoiding it, yes. Such a heavy thing. I prefer to live only for myself. Have you never done something just for your own sake, my Queen?”

Nystri’s poise and posture were the very model of her birth, “I live for my peoples. And for those people I shall see you from these lands myself.”

Amorastra managed a seated half bow. “As you will it, my Queen. In the meantime, it’s been a long day and I am famished. Would you care to share a meal with me? Or, I’m sure your subjects would be happy to bring you a bounty of berries and mushrooms.”

“And what is it that demons eat, I wonder?” 

Amorastra shrugged, “Most will eat whatever they can get their claws around. I, however, prefer mortal…” She let the word hang in the air for the briefest moment as she flashed a toothy grin. “Cuisine. For all their failings, their food is delicious.”

“Humans, you mean?”

“There’s a much wider variety of mortals than just humans, Majesty. But, tonight, yes, let us dine on a human specialty.” She turned her head towards the entrance of the tent. Pebble had completed the construction a little while ago and Nystri realized she had not seen him since. “Dog, prepare the pie we procured.”

A woof came from inside the tent and Pebble emerged a second later. He opened the pouch slung over him once more and peered inside. He reached deep, his shoulder disappearing for a moment before pulling out a large pie. He next pulled out a long pole with a wide curved fork at the end. He let the tines of the fork hold the bottom of the pie, then he held it inside the stove and secured the pole by jamming it into the ground, then went back into the tent. 

“I’ve never had any mortal food before,” Nystri said. She had been watching Pebble closely.

“Have you ever met any mortals, Majesty?”

Nystri looked up to Amorastra, then back towards the fire. “A few find their way to my court each year. Yet, to say that I have met one would be a stretch.”

Amorastra nodded. The forest had grown dark, indeed. She was bathed in the warm orange-red glow of the coals and the gold etched into her skin glittered in that light. “In my experience, they are as wonderful as they are wicked. Not that I mind a little wickedness.”

Nystri thought a moment, then said, “So you go among mortals often? For what reason?”

Amorastra leaned back into the chair, resting her head against the tall back. “Boredom, at first. Demons tend to want things like power and carnage and chaos. But, mortals! A mortal can want so much more. Good food, a bountiful harvest, a mild winter.  They might want friendship, accomplishment, a family, or love.” Amorastra glanced at Nystri, then back to the fire. She squeezed the arm of her chair and smiled. “They might want simply to make a beautiful chair. And, of course, there are those that seek power or carnage or chaos. But most just want a good life they can be proud of. I found that quite endearing.”

Nystri nodded, but simply turned her attention to the hot coals, thankful for their warmth. She let her mind drift a while. She let her feelings swirl and coalesce. She felt a swelling warmth in her chest. She felt her stomach roiling. She felt these forces begin to churn and mix inside of her. Misgivings mixed with trust and hope and fear and … desire. Most of all, she felt desire.

I need to keep going. If staying with this demon—if trusting this demon will help me, then that is what I shall do. Wisdom be damned.

Finally Pebble pulled the pie from the stove. Its crust was a deep golden brown and steam rose from the top. He placed the pie on a rock and produced a small table. He set the table with a large plate, saucer, goblet, glass bottle, fork and spoon of fine silver, and a candelabra which he lit. Drool dripped from his jagged mouth all the while. Without a word from Amorastra he slinked away as soon as the table was set. 

Nystri hopped onto the table and sat cross-legged next to the saucer. Amorastra scooped out a small portion of the pie for her. “It’s quite hot, Majesty. Allow me.” Amorastra leaned in close, just inches from Nystri and held her gaze as she puckered her lips and blew gently on the steaming bit of pie. Her breath was as the herald of autumn’s end and Nystri shivered. After that there was still a small bit of steam, but the heat Nystri felt from it had lessened enough to be tolerable. 

“I am afraid that I don’t have appropriately sized utensils for you, my Queen. Though, it is customary to eat such a pie with your hands!”

“Who am I to go against custom?” Nystri reached out and broke off a piece of the crust. It was more brittle than she expected. She took a tentative bite, raised an eyebrow, then another and another until that bit of crust was soon gone. The long day had finally caught up with her and she could no longer suppress her hunger. She stuck her hand into the filling and brought it to her nose. It smelled of meats and unknown spices. The gravy was thick and creamy and she did her best to eat it without making a complete mess of herself. 

“Wine, Majesty?” Amorastra had filled her goblet and brought it near the edge of the table. She tilted it so that the deep red liquid nearly poured out of it.

Nystri considered a moment, then went to the goblet. Just the smell made her a little lightheaded. She drank deeply, letting the thick liquid fill her with warmth. Soon the normal deep flush of her face had spread to most of her body. Nystri went back to the pie and ate her fill. She laid back on the table. She felt more satisfied with a meal than any other time she could remember. She looked up at the stars and just enjoyed that feeling for a long while. Finally she sat up and found that the dinnerware had been removed, along with the pie tin, leaving only the bottle, goblet, and candelabra. Nystri stood and her feet were unsteady, no doubt due to the food as much as the drink.

“Careful, now,” Amorastra said. She offered her hand palm up and Nystri put her hands on Amorastra’s index and middle fingers. Each of her hands was about the size of Amorastra’s finger pads. Amorastra smiled and said, “Your hands are quite a mess still. Allow me."

Amorastra bent down and brought Nystri’s hands into her mouth. She sucked gently and let her tongue clean the bits of gravy from Nystri’s pale skin. Nystri gasped, but did not pull away. Amorastra opened her mouth, smiled and licked her lips. What must have been mere seconds felt like long moments to Nystri. She nearly lost her balance, but Amorastra caught her with her left hand, holding her up. Amorastra’s hand was warm against her skin. Soft, smooth, and supple, like a fine silken pillow. Nystri leaned into it.

“Just this very morning this left hand of yours plucked me from the sky,” Nystri said, running one hand along Amorastra’s palm where the binding circle had been.

“I’m very glad it did, my Queen,” Amorastra whispered. “Let’s get some sleep.”