I expected to see auras through the powder kicked up by my landing: demons or corrupt inquisition here to harry me. Instead, I saw an empty field lying fallow under snow. Dismissing my wings, I checked my surroundings nervously.

Nothing but quiet.

Part of me was relieved there was no immediate fight, even though my claws itched, but as I walked toward the outskirts of the town my worry grew.

Maybe they knew they couldn’t fight me? Would they try to make me out as worse than them, then?

As I was passing the first farmhouse, I heard movement by its cellar door. Head snapping towards the source, I debated for a moment if I should chase. I saw no aura, but wouldn’t have through stone, wood, and dirt anyway. Whoever this was likely wasn’t with Mordwell.

Perhaps I could get some answers before I walked or flew into the city? From above, I had seen no fires here or at the fort, no battles that demanded my attention or my immediate action. If there was a clandestine meeting somewhere secret, searching for it myself could make me too late.

The castle was an option, and one I’d take soon, but the quiet town bothered me.

Mind made up, I nodded and walked at an urgent pace towards the cellar door. Curling my claws inward, I rapped on the wood. “I’m fighting the cult who have taken over this town and region. Could we talk a moment?”

***

Doryn waited in the cold darkness of his neighbors’ cellar, holding his breath. He’d managed to hide there when those false Church of Dhias bastards had rounded the city up and taken everyone to the castle. The young lupael man regretted not joining up with the resistance. He just hadn’t thought they’d go that far. But if the resistance still existed, he wanted to find them now for sure.

He hadn’t dared try to leave yet, in case the demon binders were still around. After what felt like hours of waiting, he’d cracked the door open after a massive crash happened in the upper field, hoping for a distraction he could use to slip out.

Now, whatever he wanted to do probably didn’t matter.

Doryn’s heart quickened and he knew he’d have to take a breath soon, to stop being perfectly still in the cellar. What he’d seen outside the door was a strong-looking demon. Like the four-eyed one that he’d seen once, this one had four arms, crimson skin, and horns.

And she was way, way scarier. Not that it mattered, but she would be too tall for the cellar, and even if she’d been human, Doryn would have assumed her strong enough to break him in half. He hadn’t gotten much of a look at her through where she’d crashed into the field, but she looked like she was wearing a fancy dress despite… everything.

Worse still, her head had snapped his way with unnatural speed when he’d made no more sound than a muffled gasp. If she’s seen me… he thought, suppressing a shudder, I’m dead.

A sharp knock on the cellar door jolted Doryn.

“Hello,” a rich, unnatural voice said in Ordian through the door. “I’m fighting the cult who have taken over this town and region. Could we talk a moment? I’ve no time for games, so you may either help me if you’re not with them or die if you are.”

Doryn gulped. Death or death.

***

Was I too forward? I wondered. At the same time, I meant what I’d said. The city looked empty, so there was no guarantee I’d be lucky enough to run into someone else hiding.

There was also a chance the cellar of this unassuming farmhouse led to a warren of tunnels like in Gedon or Lockmoth, and the sound was from a scout for the demon cult.

I gave whoever was inside a few more seconds, and after hearing no sound other than an intake of breath after I had spoken, I opened the slanted door like a civilized person, and ducked down inside.

The cellar within was completely dark, which didn’t bother me at all, but the ceiling was more than a head too short for me. Shelves sparsely dotted with jars lined one wall, and farming tools were stacked against another. Behind an old, worn dresser next to the door, I heard breathing.

The rest of the cellar was empty, and nothing had tried to attack me. The only thing left was to discern if this individual was a threat. Reminded of Seyari’s missing hand, I would take no chances here.

***

When the door opened, Doryn choked, his breath coming fast and harsh even as he tried to still it. The demon brought no light beyond what came in through the door, and she moved from said door to directly in front of his hiding place in an instant, staring down at him even as she stooped to fit in the cellar. Her blue eyes glowed brightly in the dark, slit pupils distinctly visible.

When she opened her mouth to speak, Doryn saw twin rows of wicked, sharp teeth, and the demon spoke with a forked tongue.

“No aura, and you can’t be one of Lilly’s… You’re either Styrix or Envy, and I somehow doubt that.”

Doryn made a choking sound, his ears pressed flat against his head. Behind him, all the fur on his tail stuck out on its ends.

“You must be mortal then.” The woman nodded seemingly to herself. “Are you with the corrupt inquisition?” she asked him. “Be honest—I’ll know if you’re lying.”

Doryn tried to respond, but his mouth wasn’t working right and only faint croak came out from between dry lips. Doryn shouldn’t have had trouble speaking back—he’d grown up in Astrye and knew Ordian well enough.

The demon woman narrowed her eyes, the glow dimming. Then, she sat down on her knees in front of him, pulling her expensive-looking dress carefully to the side and under her.

The lupael man blinked as the demon seemed to relax all four of her shoulders.

“Tell me, please. I do not want to kill you, but I will.”

“N-no,” Doryn stammered. “No, o-of course not!” his voice gained in strength and volume as he found that he no longer cared to hold anything in if he was just going to die at this demon’s claws anyway. “Of fucking course not! They killed my father—took my family just this morning! I don’t care if you kill me, but you’d better damn well mean it when you say you’re killing those bastards too!”

The demon smiled, and Doryn faced his impending death with grim certainty.

“Good,” she said simply, pulling lips back over teeth. “Tell me what you know—especially about what happened this morning.”

The young lupael man exhaled a shuddering breath, as the realization that he might not die hit him around the same time he realized what he’d directed his outburst at. A furtive glance from under his bangs showed the demon woman’s impossibly symmetrical, villainous-looking face contorted into an expression of worry and sympathy.

Dimly, Doryn remembered her question. “I don’t know! They were just taking everyone—I don’t even know where they went. Just go if you’re not gonna kill me!”

“Do you know who might know?” the woman asked.

Doryn tried to reply, but the last of his manic bravado faded and his words turned to whimpers which turned to sobs. My family’s already dead, he thought, what does it matter. He stiffened when a warm hand brushed his arm.

The large woman inclined her head at him, as if to ask permission. Doryn couldn’t think straight enough to do anything more than nod. The woman hesitated, then pulled him forward into a warm hug. The distraught lupael shuddered and sobbed, far beyond caring or trying to figure any of this out.

“I’m Zarenna,” the woman said softly. “And I will see that your fury finds its mark.”

Fury? The thought swirled in the maelstrom of his mind. Sad as he was, Doryn found he held no more anger. But how?

***

I held the lupael, a young man barely an adult by my guess, in my arms for a long moment. I knew I’d get nothing else out of him, and I couldn’t bear to leave him as he was, sobbing, rocking and hugging himself in the corner of some cold cellar.

At the same time, I listened outside, waiting to hear any signs that someone might be coming to check out the crash.

When his sobs slowed, thankfully only a minute or so later, I had heard nothing. He’s telling the truth then—and I’d bet they took everyone. I’d lied earlier that I could see through lies, but the anger I’d eaten from him told me enough about his sincerity. Of course, I hadn’t taken quite all of it.

Carefully, I set the young man in a sitting position against the dresser. I’d assumed he’d drifted off, but his voice carried to me as I stood up and whacked my horns into the ceiling with an embarrassing thud.

“Resistance,” he mumbled. “Wish I’d joined up now…”

“Where?” I asked softly.

“Town… somewhere.”

“Thanks,” I replied.

I got no response other than soft snoring.

Closing the door behind me, I left quietly and quickly. I frowned at the clear footprints in the snow going to and from the cellar door, but I didn’t have the time to try to cover it up, and I was not about to find a boulder or something to block the young man in.

Instead, I sprinted into the city. Feeling the wind through my hair, long braid whipping back and forth behind me, I realized just how rarely I truly ran. All the time, even as a demon, I had to force myself to act so slow. Unfortunately, the sprint to the city was short-lived, and I skidded to a halt at the first stone-paved street, wondering how I could find this “resistance.”

Brynna must be a member. Perhaps her name could help me, but they’re not going to let me find them as a demon, right?

I walked quickly down the street, not quite at a run, scanning and listening for any signs of life. The city had clearly been removed of people—and recently. While there would be no street market in winter, I saw oil lamps lit in empty rooms and a few doors hanging open. The more telling signs, however, were smashed doors and windows.

I was surprised a fire hadn’t broken out, but there was a chance this was done during the day, meaning less fires and oil lamps, or they took people less forcefully at first. Unfortunately, I could only guess.

Double unfortunately, my run found no one. By the time I’d reached the central square of the city, its blanket of snow nearly destroyed, I realized I either had to fly for the castle blind, or try harder.

“Brynna made it!” I shouted. “I’ve arrived ahead of her, but I’m here to help if anyone is around! I’m not bound—no collar, see!” My dress with its plunging neckline and absent back showed off a little more than just my neck, but I still angled my head around. “If you’re wondering why you should trust me…”

I drew in another breath, pausing to let my words fade into the buildings around me. “Well, I’m afraid I can’t give you much, just that not all demons think alike—which you might already know. All I want to know is where everyone’s been taken and where I can find the bastards who did it.”

I didn’t expect much, or really anything to come of it. I was headed for the castle next anyway, and the silent streets only served to remind me that I was wasting time I probably didn’t have by staying here a moment longer.

At least there’s no ambush here, which means the castle’s all that’s left unless they’ve holed up in a nearby mine.

Resolved, I turned my gaze to the keep on its hill above, and brought my wings out with a thought, fire blazing to life behind me. Kicking off the ground, I flapped once and shot out of the plaza towards the castle on the hill. The road was cleared of snow, and disturbed at the edges—a sight that seemed normal enough on my way in, but now made me think of a marching column. The castle and its courtyard were certainly large enough to hold the townsfolk, at least temporarily.

The walls of Castle Astrye were imposing: thick stone centuries old, and hardly worse for wear. But they were also useless, because I could fly. The few lights I’d seen in windows on my way in had gone out, meaning I had even more reason to be suspicious.

When I reached the walls and got a look inside—I’d know for sure. Somehow, I doubted I’d make it that far without finding out.

***

Back in the city, Keran swore from his position on the rooftop. Next to him, Razz watched the skies with a complicated look on her face. The pair had remained quiet and still in their vigil, breaths held and bodies ducked behind the crown of the roof, when the demon had come running through town. Right now, that demon, wearing a somewhat lascivious dress, was flying toward the castle, born aloft by wings of crimson fire.

“I’m sorry,” Keran said. “They must have gotten your sister.”

“I’m not so sure,” Razz replied. “If that demon didn’t at least want those bastard demon binders dead, she wouldn’t have taken off like that.”

Keran looked from the keep to the shrinking demon woman and back again. “I’m worried about that.”

Razz sighed. “Me too. You think she has a chance?”

“I do.” Keran nodded.

“Aura?”

“Mhmm.”

“How strong?”

“If that other four-armed demon—the one with four eyes—is a burning torch, the demon flying up there’s a great roaring bonfire.”

“Shit. What if she wins? What if she kills all the other demons?” Razz gulped, sliding down to keep her ears out of sight just in case the demon, distant now, turned around and somehow saw her.

“We’d better start hoping she’s not as bad as those false church bastards. What few of us’ll be left after whatever they’re doing up there won’t have a choice.”

“I can’t hope, but… what if she really was with Brynna?”

Keran smiled sadly. “If that’s true? Then we’ll all live happily ever after—and I’ll shave my damn tail.”