The snow didn’t relent. Heavy clouds hung low above the eerily still landscape I trudged through. By morning the snow was up to my knees on the road, and every step caused a cold dampness to crawl up my leg. I almost wished for boots, but I didn’t dare give up any grip on the treacherous, winding road. The others had taken to riding on top of the wagon as I carried it. In brighter circumstances, I would have loved to laugh at how comical we looked.

In reality, I wanted nothing more than a warm room, warm food and a dry bed to sleep in. Magic kept us all in relative comfort, but the constant cycle of wet-dry-wet had ground our patience down to nothing. When Seyari and Myrna sighted the smoke of the upcoming town I wanted to sprint for it. I kept the wagon steady, but picked up the pace.

“Could we take a less conspicuous method of entry?” Myrna asked nervously. “I don’t want to have to explain all this.”

“I’m not dragging the wagon,” Seyari replied.

“Who cares?” Taava said flippantly. “I don’t wanna get any colder.”

“They’ll be fine with us when we show them we just want food and a bed!” Nelys added. “And that we have coin to pay.”

“Zarenna?” Myrna asked, hopefully. “Surely you don’t want to cause a scene?”

I shrugged and the wagon dipped. “I don’t, but I agree with Sey and the others. It’d be no less suspicious to carry this wagon looking human. And if we all dragged it into town, that’d be suspicious as heck given the storm.”

“So you’re just going to walk into town like this?”

“That’s the plan. I’ll set us by a stable or the inn and then I’m going inside for a warm meal,” I paused. “There is a warm inn with warm food here, right Myrna?”

Myrna groaned. “Fine. I want to get indoors too.”

“Me too,” Phol mumbled.

“And yes, Zarenna, there is an inn in the town.”

“Oh thank fuck,” Seyari answered for me.

***

We’d passed the first sleeping home on the outskirts of the town with no incident, but the moment someone outside saw us, a shout of “Demon!” went up. Lights winked out in windows as we drew closer to the center of town, making the place seem deserted, although there was plenty of evidence of the townsfolk quickly hiding.

When I reached the town center, near where Myrna said the inn was, a ragtag host that must have been the town militia stood in my path. They didn’t attack immediately, thankfully. I probably had the absurdity of our situation to thank for that fact. Behind them, the steep-roofed log buildings of the town looked like something out of a fairytale: fresh snow puffed up from their roofs, curls of smoke drifted lazily from their chimneys, and icicles dangled over the warm glow of windows in the evening light.

I drew in a breath to speak, but Nelys beat me to it.

“Hiya! Can we get a few inn rooms and some hot food?” I felt something above me shift as Nelys moved around, but couldn’t see what they were doing. “Oh, and a place for Renna to set the wagon! She says it isn’t heavy, but I don’t believe her and she’s been carrying us for like three days since the avalanche.”

I smiled despite myself. Well done again, Nelys.

“Gods, my back is killin’ me!” Taava dropped into the snow next to me with a poof of powder. She stretched and yawned. “Big Red there’s not here ta hurt ya, so scram.”

The man in the lead found his composure. He wore his dark hair short, had a hard, square jaw and wore a chain shirt over casual wear. “Scram!? We’re going to defend our town!”

Next to me, a gust of wind sent Taava into the snow face-first. Or it would have, had the kazzel not been expecting reprisal from my girlfriend. She ducked into a roll, instead, and she came up holding her lute. The chord she strummed was out of tune.

“Stupid cold!” she cursed.

Seyari took the opportunity and distraction to address those assembled. “What we’re saying is that we mean no harm. We’re with the Gelles Company, in fact, and Zarenna, the demon carrying our wagon, is our leader.”

She paused, and I realized I was meant to speak. “Right. Hi, I’m Zarenna Miller with the Gelles Company. With me are Nelys, Taava, and Seyari.” I tilted my head at each of them. “We’re escorting the merchant Myrna and her personal guard Phol on their route to Gedon, and providing protection as well. And, uh, I’m just going to set this down, okay?” I hefted the wagon to one side and set it in the snow next to me.

“Bullshit!” the square-jawed man yelled. “Do you think I was born yesterday?”

“No, Kent,” Myrna answered, climbing off the wagon, “I think you were born thirty-eight years ago.”

Kent, apparently, narrowed his eyes. “Thirty-seven years ago. How’d a cold heart like you get enthralled?”

Myrna climbed down off the wagon and stood in front of the cart. “Fine. Thirty-seven. I’m only basing it on what you said last time I was through here three years ago. Winter birthday then?”

Kent was silent, although his cold gaze slid from Myrna back to me. I met it, tired and frustrated.

“The answer’s still no by the way,” Myrna continued, the rest of the assembled, shivering militia now giving her their attention. “And like I told you last time: it’s not you, I just don’t really like anyone like that.”

“Look, do I look like a demon who could enthrall someone?” I stood up a little straighter, trying to show off my build.

“Don’t try to confuse us, demon!” Kent yelled.

“Welp, this is all nice and fun I’m sure, but I’m just not sittin’ out in this cold any longer.” Taava started walking toward the only inn visible in the snow-covered town center. “Good luck ta ya!”

“Stop her!” Kent pointed his sword at the sauntering, shivering kazzel.

“Kent!” Myrna yelled.

“Whoah, hey!” Taava ducked and rolled under a swipe from the nearest militiaman. “Ya could hurt someone with that. I’m no demon and I’d take myself out ‘fore I get under anyone’s thrall.”

That gave the already conflicted ragtag group pause.

Kent stepped toward Taava and tried to rally the others. “Lies! We won’t fall for a demon’s lies! We’ve enough trouble as it is!”

Enough trouble? Could Hector or the people he’s chasing have done something? The timing should be right for them to be here in town, riding out the snowstorm. I could feel Kent’s fury bubble up through the gentle current of the militia’s anger.

Kent’s words seemed to stoke the fire, and Taava’s eyes went wide as she was rushed. She ducked, rolled, and was caught by a gust of wind that brought her, a cloud of snow, and some of the most forward of the militia back to us. Taava scrambled back, cursing, and Nelys covered her retreat. The militia members likewise scrambled away, their eyes on me.

“That was me, by the way,” Seyari announced, briefly shifting some eyes off me. Her voice had that odd echo she usually suppressed—intentionally I realized. Through the snow and dim light her eyes and hair shone.

“A half-angel?” someone murmured.

“With a demon?” another asked.

“Is she corrupted?”

“Did the demon get her?”

“Enough!” Kent barked. “We’re—”

Taava strummed an atonal chord on her lute, interrupting Kent. I pulled a little anger out of the man, just for good measure. I didn’t like it, but this was close to becoming a fight. Nelys had weapons at the ready, and Phol leapt off the wagon to cover Myrna who’d backed up, fuming.

“I got a way ta prove it!” Taava announced. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a few nightsbane flowers she must’ve pinched earlier. “Ya boneheads’ attacked me ‘fore I could do this all dramatic-like.” She held a sprig between two sharp nails. “Ya know what this is?”

“No?” one of the militia members reflexively answered, earning a shush and a commotion from those near them.

“Right, well, see it’s a thing called—”

“Nightsbane,” Myrna answered. “It turns black around demonic magic, and demons.”

“Hey!” Taava stamped a foot and pouted. “Quit ruinin’ my already ruined moment, will ya?”

Someone else snickered. I caught myself smiling a little.

“Anyway,” Taava continued, “this stuff turns black around demons, and their magic, so here!” She held one in her own hand, golden in the dim light.

While I was thinking of what to say, the kazzel reached up under my horns and stuck the nightsbane flower behind my pointed ear. I didn’t have to look to know it turned black. She held up her own, then passed more to everyone in the group while Kent and the militia eyed us nervously. I had a hunch the only reason Taava had enough time to hand out the nightsbane was that the militia knew they’d not be able to win a fight against a demon.

“If she’d got us with a spell, this’d turn black, too,” Taava concluded with a flourish. “So we’re no threat, we’ve got money, and I can sing us all a lovely song over at that warm lookin’ inn right there if ya just—"

“I won’t be fooled,” Kent said sternly, his jaw hard and tense.

“Kent,” Myrna asked, “Please. Look at us, look at my wagon, and look at Zarenna, who’s been carrying it and us for days. Even now, she’s been nothing but patient through getting stopped in the street before she’d even set my wagon down. Go home, get sleep, and let us trade and spend our coin already.”

“…No,” Kent replied. “I can’t. Not again.”

“What do you mean by again?” Nelys asked.

My thoughts exactly.

Kent regarded the small person beside me. “You don’t need to know. Now go. You can’t stay here, but we won’t chase you.”

“Kent!” someone else complained. “Look at them! They’ll die out in the snow!”

“They’ve survived this far,” Kent barked.

“We can camp outside if you really want us to,” I relented. “We have magic that can keep us going, at least until I need to sleep. But our client, Myrna has business in town, and needs her wagon repaired. Can she and her guard Phol at least stay here? We’ll wait on ahead, or leave entirely if Myrna signs off on it.”

Kent sighed. “No more tricks. Leave, now. All of you. Even Myrna.”

“No.” Myrna shook her head and stepped right to Kent, leaning in hardly ten centimeters from his face. She jabbed a finger into his armor, the rest of the ragtag group now far too unsure to act. “You’re being completely unreasonable, and now I see what Zarenna was complaining about. I’d probably have had the same reaction as you if she didn’t come from the Gelles Company and with a contract saying she was a demon. This contract, in fact!” She shoved a crumpled, folded stack of papers at Kent. “Sorry, but it got a little damaged in the avalanche Zarenna saved us from.”

Kent stuttered.

“Read it or don’t. I don’t care, but I’ll need it back.” Myrna turned back to the rest of us with a weary smile and waved us forward into the town center. “We’re all going to the inn. I’ll trade tomorrow, and we’ll be out of here as soon as we can get the wagon fixed and get new horses.”

Thanks Myrna.

Kent kept his brow furrowed as I picked up the wagon, walked past him and the unsure militia, and continued into town.

***

Dinner was… tense. Our wagon sat, sad and broken, in the stables next to the inn. Surprisingly, Phol volunteered to take the first shift guarding it. I wished we could trust everyone here, but, well, while Myrna had gotten us into an inn and rooms, we didn’t get any hospitality. We all sat huddled around a too-small corner table, and the other patrons, many of them from the militia and still armed, watched us warily. Taava, in particular, grumbled at being barred from playing for the crowd.

Thankfully, aside from a lot of questions about whether I ate, and what I ate (not humans, I assured them), no one messed with my vegetable stew. A little jerky tossed in and it was perfect.

“So Myrna,” I started, trying to break the tension. “What’s the plan here? We’ve a broken wagon, no horses, and a snowstorm.”

Myrna tipped up her bowl and downed the last bit of her stew, swallowing before answering. “We get the wagon set for repairs, I make my trades—” She side-eyed the wary crowd. “—if I can. We find horses, and we leave when the snow stops.”

“And what if we can’t find horses?” Seyari asked.

Myrna groaned. “I was trying not to think about that.”

Seyari laid a hand on mine. “I know this is a bad question, but: Renna, would you be okay to pull the cart to the next town?”

I shrugged. “Pull? Yes. Carry? No.”

“I’ll take Phol and do what I can tomorrow,” Myrna said dejectedly. No one’s going to take a look at our wagon at night during a snowstorm. I don’t want to ask you to pull the wagon, but we might not have a choice.”

Conversation after that stayed muted. The hostility we felt didn’t really lessen, but I could breathe better when fewer people were at the inn to glare at us. Seyari and I traded a grateful and cold Phol for the next watch. No one bothered us out in the cold stables, and we spent the hours staring at the flickering lights of the village around us, most of them winking out by the time we left for Taava and Nelys’s turn.

When we re-entered the tavern under the inn, it was almost empty, save one surprisingly young man who probably didn’t have anywhere else to be. He was slumped over the counter using his arms as a pillow, and breathing deeply. The oil lamps were all put out, save one on the counter. I didn’t need the light from it to see the person waiting around the corner of the stairs. They’d moved into deeper cover when we’d walked in. I could feel fury from him, sharp and fresh. Likewise, the sleeping man held active anger. A dream? Or is he even asleep?

I could clearly make out their piecemeal “armor,” and the worn, but well-kept sword the kid in the back held in a shaking hand. I glanced at Seyari, keenly aware of the dim blue glow of my eyes in the darkness. Her own softly glowing golden eyes looked back at me. Sparing a glance for the snoozing man, we walked to the stairs but stopped near the middle of the room.

“Please don’t attack us,” I whispered. “We just want to go to bed.”

***

Wick was nervous. He and his brother Lloyd had watched Kent let that monster into their town without a fight. The old man had said they couldn’t fight it, and he’d been soft because of that trader woman who’d come with the demon. Didn’t Kent know demons could control people? Everyone knew that! First those assholes and the assholes chasing after them and now a demon. The last suspicious people they’d let stay in town had stolen enough already, and Wick wasn’t about to let a literal demon add lives to the list.

Demons were strong, he’d been told—and he’d seen this one carrying a wagon above its head. Wick didn’t believe they could only be hurt by magic, though, and his brother didn’t either. A good sharp blade and a strong swing would surely do the trick.

So they’d made a plan. They watched the group pretend to act normal in the inn, and hidden when the tavern closed up for the night. Lloyd feigned sleep by the bar while Wick waited by the stairs. They’d jump the demon from two angles and take it out when it came back inside.

At least, that had been the plan.

The demon and the corrupted angel-blooded walked in together, and the way the demon’s slitted eyes glowed in the dark sent a shiver down Wick’s spine. They shone in the darkness like a predator’s, making every muscle in his body scream “run away.” He pulled back around the corner into the shadows and waited.

“Please don’t attack us,” the monster mocked him.

“We just want to go to bed,” it lied.

Wick’s blood turned to ice. The demon’s voice seemed affable, and was warm like coals in a hearth, but something about the way it rang out in the silent tavern was just wrong.

It was now or never. With a cry he didn’t realize he’d let loose, Wick charged out from under the stairs and at the demon, blade raised. Lloyd jumped up as well, drawing the shortsword he’d hidden under himself.

Wick’s charge never reached the demon. He barely tracked the demon’s movement as two hands grabbed his arms and another two his brother’s arms, stopping them both short and pulling them painfully aloft. Wick managed to keep his sword in a white-knuckled, panicked grip, his forearms free. Somehow, he managed to swing the old blade loosely at the demon’s neck; it slid off, leaving not so much as a mark.

“Please,” the demon said. “Just go home.”

The vice-like hands that had gripped Wick let go with a shove, sending him stumbling back. Wick wanted to scream. He wanted to move, to do anything; he knew he was being toyed with. His brother, similarly sent stumbling back, kept his hands on his blade and looked around the room, wide-eyed, like he would bolt any moment. Fear froze Wick in place. The woman next to the demon, only now remembered by the pair, sighed—mocking his failure even more.

Wick’s fury swelled. And then it evaporated. Lloyd, too, calmed, though he still twitched in fear.

“I’m sorry I scared you. When I was your age, I’d have done the same, so no hard feelings.” The demon spoke again in that same faux-caring tone and strode past the terrified pair toward the stairs. The angel-blooded woman pulled a step ahead of the demon before darting up the steps.

Stopping at the base of the stairs, the demon woman turned around. She started to say something else, but the pair of brothers found their courage and bolted out the inn door and into the snow before she could say anything, leaving the door hanging open behind them.

Back in the empty tavern, a rush of cold wind put the last lit lantern out.