“Don’t forget my book.”

I glanced over at Sey, who was getting dressed despite the setting sun casting long shadows across our room. “Won’t that take extra time?”

My wife rolled her eyes. “You’ll need to stop by the Gelles Company to ask after what they’ve said and to whom anyway.”

“Fair. I suppose I should inform the duchess we’ll leave at first light, then take a flight around the city and outlying farms.”

“You should. I’ll also need to send someone to check on the outlying towns. Most have already been evacuated to here, but I fear what’s happened to the others.”

My heart sank. “Yeah. Before we leave in the morning, I think I should speak in the main square. Reaffirm my commitments.”

“I can arrange that, but don’t go spilling where you’ll be and when. For now, that information should be kept to a trusted few. And get out of bed.”

“It’s warm though.”

“You’re a walking heater. Up.”

I pouted, but did as she asked, pulling clothes on myself. “Speaking of people to be trusted, the maid Shyll is Lilly’s agent here in Astrye. She had a letter from Lilly that had the Sovereign of Lust’s aura on it, so she’s the real deal.”

Seyari groaned. “I’d assumed she was a spy or something—I’d had Taava watching her. At least she’s not leaking information to Envy.”

“I think we can trust Lilly.”

“Are you sure we can trust so many people?” Seyari asked. Her tone was clipped, and I could tell she’d avoided a more biting remark.

I buttoned up my leather coat, ignoring the slight. “You’re right, I guess. I know this is a pattern for me, but I also know you know I’m getting better with my discretion. At the very least, Lilly is against Envy. Besides, someone who sends us a tea cake recipe can’t be a bad person—it’s against some law of the universe or another.”

Sey frowned, but relented. “I suppose. Regardless, we’ll need to patrol during the night, and finish taking stock of the casualties.”

“And the damage and our food,” I added. “I’ll ask after aid when I speak to the duchess shortly.”

“Don’t give up more autonomy for it.”

“Oh, I won’t. We have hunting and foraging as options anyway, and I can always make trips for supplies by air if need be.”

“Provided you don’t open us up for attack again.”

“Sure, but we can’t let paranoia cause paralysis. Even if it’s well-justified paranoia.”

“Heading south isn’t paralysis—never mind. We’ve already had this argument.”

I finished dressing and walked to the balcony door. “We have, yeah. I’ll head out on patrol when I’m done. Will I see you in the sky?”

Seyari nodded and stretched her wings, arms over her head. Yawning, she replied. “Yeah. I’ll be around.”

Smiling, I pulled her in for a quick four-armed hug and a peck on the lips. Her wings wrapped around us briefly before we separated. Still smiling, I walked out onto the balcony and descended down the outside of the castle.

Really, it was faster than figuring out the maze of hallways inside. Unfortunately, I’d forgotten that the duchess had been moved to a hastily set-up guest quarters, and ended up wandering the halls of Castle Astrye anyway. When I reached what I hoped was the right door, I knocked.

There was no immediate reply, and without intending to, I picked up the sound of sobbing from inside. It stopped shortly after my knock, and while I was debating whether to call out or knock again, I heard footsteps and the door opened.

Duchess Kapel craned her head up to look at me. Her bluish skin was pale, and her eyes were reddened. “Oh, you. What?”

I looked back down at her and decided to keep things simple and brief, to leave her to her grief. “I wanted to let you know we’ll be leaving tomorrow. My guess would be early afternoon, but it depends on how much time I take speaking in the town square.”

The duchess nodded, and in her I saw little of the confident woman I’d met only the night prior.

“Is that all?”

Now’s not the time to ask about aid. “Yes.”

Her eyes narrowed, but she swiftly closed the door before I could glean anything else from her expression. I walked away feeling drained, and I carried that feeling into my patrol, staying opposite Seyari so we could each scan the trees in turn.

Overhead, stars and the moon gave more than enough light for me to see by, and I watched the quiet forest intently. The watchtowers, no longer as reliable as they’d seemed, lay dark and empty, jutting out of the canopy like dull teeth. Even from the sky, I could pick out the grain of the wood, and the needles on the trees.

I’d long ago stopped considering myself human, but sometimes little reminders of how different things were snuck in and reminded me. Gave me context. What the duchess was struggling with right now, mirrored at least some of my own struggles.

Though I imagined she didn’t have the benefit of an acute discomfort for her old body being washed away. Truly that’d helped me—that and the life-or-death situation I’d found myself in on the island. I held up a clawed hand, clenching and unclenching it slowly. Behind me, my tail swayed in the wind and I’d feel so incomplete without it. My head would be weighted wrong without horns, my mouth too dull without my teeth, my tongue too unwieldy without its fork. And I’d be useless up here with human eyesight.

None of that need apply for the duchess. The horns a weight, the blue tone to her skin a constant reminder that she was different than before. I could understand it, in a way, but I didn’t know that I could truly empathize with the human’s struggles.

Not anymore and not ever.

That didn’t mean I couldn’t be supportive—at least until she was back home. In exchange for aid, I’d need to give her something, and I had a feeling she wasn’t the type to want for a shoulder to cry on. My strength then, magical and physical. Envy talked of a war, and Astrye hadn’t been the only place to be hurt. Gedon would have problems—already had problems—and maybe, if I could find the time, I could lend a few hands.

Just as I was getting more comfortable with my thoughts, working through the past few days, I spotted a flash of something shining through the trees. Beneath me was the pass north, covered in a semi-navigable-looking blanket of fresh snow, and I’d drifted perhaps a dozen kilometers to the north—to the middle of nowhere.

I banked and descended after the glint I’d seen, ready to fight.

Instead, I found bodies, mostly covered by snow. The glint I’d seen was from a metal buckle, attached to a stiff, cold leg sticking up from the rest. Immediately, I blew the snow away with a warm wind.

Decay was light on the air, the frozen weather having preserved the dozen or so human men quite well. They were a well-armed group, once, if the sheathes and quivers were any indication. Their outfits, reinforced hunting leathers padded over to ward against the cold and wind, were slashed and burned. No two were the same, but they seemed to all be similar. 

Likewise, the bodies bore vicious wounds—some were even missing limbs. Swallowing feelings of pity and disgust, I patted through their clothing. No orders, and more curiously very little by way of coin. A single man had a small coinpurse.

That, combined with their outfits, led me to a single conclusion: mercenaries. They had to have been a group, else there was no reason for one person to hold the money. And with what little they had, they would be based elsewhere and headed back there.

They weren’t from Astrye, and my city had only a local bank. Their outfits were too nice for thai amount to be all their money. The question then became why they were headed across the pass.

Or if they intended to fully cross it at all. The Gelles Company stayed neutral in matters of noble and merchant infighting—protecting only against threats for which diplomacy was not a preferred or possible option.

I checked the frigid ground, and the blood that was there had frozen on it—not in it like I would expect after a battle where flames had been thrown around and many bodies had crowded and churned the earth. Likewise, there was a general lack of blood.

My attention turned to the road. This particular path ran through a narrow, tree-dense valley, although it was relatively straight. Not the worst place for an ambush, although I saw no signs of a camp in the immediate area.

Walking back to the road, I blew it clear of snow and immediately saw signs of a fight. Before the snow had cleared, I could see that several trees were recently damaged and I doubted by storm. The road had been scored and dug into; beyond the disturbed earth I could faintly smell blood once my warmth had soaked into the soil.

Mercenaries, most likely. And they’d fought here—to the last. Their wounds practically screamed demon. Not necessarily Envy, but also not necessarily a greater demon. Aura sight revealed nothing, so they hadn’t been prepared for such a fight.

Unfortunately, they weren’t the bodies I’d intended to find. I couldn’t know how recent they were, but I didn’t think they’d have been there long, and they were almost visible from the road.

I decided to search the area again, moving further afield into the dense trees. Soon enough, through an area of broken branches, I found more bodies. These, predators and scavengers had gotten to despite the cold, digging them out of shallow graves and scattering bits around the small hollow.

This was one of the moments I was glad my demonic constitution stayed firm while my mind heaved at the gory sight. Four of them this time: three in torn and battered armor, and one in fine winter clothing.

This would be the messenger King Carvalon sent. Broken and whole weapons were scattered about, a single sword shining with magic to my aura sight and coated in dried blood. They’d had the equipment to fight demons, unlike the mercenaries.

But whatever had gotten them was too much for three well-equipped humans, trained though they might have been.

The shallow graves and scattered weapons suggested lesser demons. Which, in turn suggested anything from a desire for plausible deniability regarding claims of wild beasts, to a lack of resources or the attack on Astrye being less-than-thoroughly planned.

While I wouldn’t have found this on my flyover without luck, this would have been found—and shortly. Moving the bodies or burying them properly in the frozen earth wouldn’t have been difficult, and we’d never had known until spring.

I fished through the belongings of the group and found the king’s missive, addressed to Seyari and fitted with the royal seal. It was stored in a small wooden tube that’d been punctured, but survived. Well, unless this contains bad information, it looks like he’d kept his promise.

Missive in hand, I regarded the bodies. For now, stretched thin as Astrye was, the best thing for me to do was to bury them here, mark it with stones, and resolve for a proper burial before spring. While I was wishing for a shovel and digging with four hands and a tail, my thoughts kept looping back to the mercenaries.

Why on Varra were they here?

They’d come after the king’s missive, which made sense as no one would know of the cleared pass before then realistically. But how recently, and who sent them? And what were their intentions?

Seyari or Taava could shed better insight into that sort of thing than I could, given their experience with this sort of thing. At the very least, I’d need to give my wife this missive.

I finished burying the bodies—a single grave, and still too shallow. I marked the tree above clearly, added a few large stones, and took quickly to the skies again. I’d be a little late compared to checking the rest of the pass, but not so late as to cause worry when I resumed the local flight path of my patrol.

Said patrol ended at sunrise, and I realized belatedly just how simple it’d been to keep my wings active the whole time. I was getting stronger; the awful attack on Astrye had made me stronger. Other, lesser wrath demons would chase that feeling.

Some humans would chase that feeling, even. Power without cause, without end, without purpose. Blind to what around them that such power would serve best to protect.

I landed long after Seyari had flown back to the castle to sleep and without a chance to give her the missive, then headed toward the central plaza of Astrye. I debated wearing a company uniform, to better demonstrate I was one of them.

But I wasn’t one of them; implying otherwise would be disingenuous. I was a demon, and their ruler, and I would make my actions speak of a desire to become closer than we were while remaining aware of the insurmountable differences. At least in my case those differences were more than a bloodline and a title. Made the idea easier to swallow.

I wore my one good dress, and stood on a pile of rubble that’d been gathered near the fountain. The extra height felt needed. A crowd had already formed, and I recognized Brynna in it, wearing concealing clothing. In part, I could tell because of the link through our contract. Similarly, I could feel Nelys nearby, probably directing people.

The crowd was listless: a cold morning had numbed what little the past days hadn’t it seemed.

“People of Astrye,” I started, voice clear and loud. Some people perked up, some others retreated deeper. “We’ve been hurt. We need food, time to mourn, and time to heal both the city and ourselves. I will not be leaving for so long a period, not when I could stop another attack.

“For those of you who know of foraging and hunting, please speak to my wife, Seyari. I will petition Edath for aid as well; the one benefit of my extended time away are forged connections that may help. The pass will remain clear and made safe. Buildings will be rebuilt, bodies healed, and bodies buried.

“Steps will be taken to strike at the heart of our enemies—in time. We’ve no need to follow death with more, but to sit idle is to invite disaster. There will be no forced conscription, but there will be rationing to get us through this winter.

“None of you deserve the trouble visited upon you, and I will do everything in my power to see that Astrye survives.”

By the end, most everyone was watching me. Some with open contempt, and others with heart-wrenching hope. I didn’t bow.

For the next hour, I handled increasingly difficult questions. Many I couldn’t answer, and some others I tried to avoid. I was part of the reason for their plight, but Mordwell’s initial occupation had had nothing to do with me, and even were I not involved, they’d just be an easy target for lives to harvest in the name of creating demons.

Eventually, the questions fell off and the crowd left for warm hearths. I was left feeling anxious, inadequate, and a good deal older than the scant few years I’d lived.

I returned to the castle in a fog, ridiculous-for-the-terrain heels crunching into snow. Instead of flying to the top, I found myself walking inside—my connection to this place and its people seemed a little closer that way.

“Mom!” The word echoed in the still-empty foyer.

I turned, and caught human-form Joisse mid-leap. Together we swung around into a hug. I set my daughter down and she beamed back up at me.

“What was that for?” I asked, then hastily added, “Not that I’m complaining of course!”

“You seemed down. Or stuck in your thoughts. Mom Sey’s been like that, too.” She took my hand and pulled me down a hallway. “The attack’s got everyone like that, I think. People I knew here died, but we won in the end.

“It feels bad not to feel bad right now, but someone I was treating told me that positivity was the right thing to do and it got me thinking. “

I let her lead me down a hallway, almost stumbling. “Who told you that?”

Joisse’s eyes fell. “Someone whose partner and child died. He said they’d not want him to live a life of sadness—just to remember them and continue on.”

I stopped suddenly enough that Joisse’s hand slipped out of mine.

She stumbled, then turned toward me. “Mom?”

Long buried emotions burst forth like a failing dam. “Abby said something similar. All those years ago.” I felt a hot tear roll down my cheek, so sudden I reached up to see if it was real. “Told me never to forget her… but she also told me to never let myself get hung up on her.”

I felt four warm arms wrap around me, and I looked down at my daughter, in her demon form. “I’m glad you told me about her, Mom. It’s sad I never got to meet her, but I think she’d be proud.”

Unable to hold the tears back, I let them flow, crying in the foyer for anyone to see. Here, in this moment, I was vulnerable. And that was okay. Joisse held me, and I held her back, thinking of all I now had in this second chance life of mine.

Sooner than I’d like, the tears slowed, and when I wiped my eyes, they didn’t even feel puffy from crying. Demons can cry, but not the same way mortals do.

Joisse spoke first. “It’s late and everyone else is exhausted, but Nelys and I were going to play cards. Do you want to join?”

I smiled at that, wide, genuine, and showing all my teeth. Joisse didn’t so much as flinch—in fact she returned the expression.

“I’d like that—a lot,” I said, voice more confident than I felt. “But just so you know, if I’m playing, Nelys can’t cheat.”

Joisse’s eyes widened. They were a bright, joyous shade of crimson in her demon form, irises set into void-like blackness. “Can you see through them?”

I chuckled despite myself. “No. It’s the price they paid for their contract. I suppose it’s as good a time as any to collect.”

Joisse giggled.

“Wait, don’t tell me they taught you their tricks?”

Joisse simply shrugged and took my two left hands in two of hers, dragging me once again down the hallway. This time my steps kept pace.