Sadrahan sat deep in the cave beneath the sky of moss and stone. The green glow washed over him and his daughter alike, and she pulled at his face with her tiny hands. Her little fingers explored the contours of his nose, and when her fingers went into his nostrils, he pushed her arms down and her lips quavered as if she were about to cry. He removed his arm, and her hands went for his nose again.

She grabbed and squeezed, her tiny claws were starting to come in, her legs kicked and she pulled as if she intended to climb him, the tips dug in, but he endured… until her fingers went into his nostrils a second time.

“No… not in the nose.” He said and pushed her arms down.

Her eyes twitched, her smile was gone, and she began to kick and wail, her piercing cry rebounded around the empty cavern, and she stretched out her arms to reach for his nose again. Sadrahan tried to rock her back and forth, her small body weighed nothing to speak of, he could have done it for hours, and sometimes it worked to calm her.

Today it didn’t.

“Do you like my nose that much?” He asked and raised her up a little as if to bring her in reach. Lamashi’s horns were growing, her legs were starting to build muscle. So were her arms, but he knew enough to know she would only be a danger to herself if she wasn’t carefully monitored. ‘Children… gods of the sky how do I do this… what did Lamash say about it before?’ He scratched his horn and let her resume poking into his nostrils.

‘Right! My whole job as a parent is to keep the small ones from dying… just make her not die to herself before she’s old enough to know how to manage that herself.’ The thought returned as if it were that very morning, and not three years and some before when she first told him the truth.

He shut his eyes against the bloody tears he was bound to shed…

His free hand went out toward nothing, but even at that moment, with the very child they conceived clutched in his hands and clawing at his nostril, he swore… ‘I can still feel her belly, see her smile, smell her hair and hear the music of her laughter ringing in my ears.’ His ears flicked around but there was nothing. Nothing but the endless dropping of water that began when the mountain rose above the world and began to fill a lake that perhaps nobody had even seen before he found it. His heart pounded and he forced the memory down.

Lamashi seemed oblivious to it all, clawing around and then rubbing her hands over his face.

A practical part of his mind told him, ‘You really should have held your ground about letting her put fingers up your nose…’ But the greater part of him only sighed and allowed her to do as she wished.

The infant giggled as if she found the bit of snot on his cheek to be absolutely hilarious, but before he could say anything about it, whether to laugh, or tell her no, or praise her, he heard Sarthas’s voice at his back.

“My Lord, we lost two.”

“Two what?” Sadrahan asked, he blinked his eyes a few times and turned around to face his advisor.

“Humans.” Sarthas said, “The one who collapsed yesterday, he consumed too much of the poisoned plant and…” He shrugged, “He passed away this afternoon.”

“You said we lost two. Who else?” Sadrahan asked, forcing Lamashi into the crook of his arm, he wiped his face clean of her snot as he approached his comrade.

‘Is he so moved by the death of humans? Are they to be ‘ours’ now? He really has to hide his emotion over them? They have been with us for some time now and have caused no trouble. And they’ve insisted they had nothing to do with the death of that village… has my Lord come to believe them?’ Sarthas had questions come to mind one after the other, but all were rhetorical, and more disbelief that it happened, and so instead of asking anything, he carried on.

“The other was one of the hunters, Mican was one of those who volunteered to build the wall, he went out hunting with the rest. He fell while waiting to ambush a hibernating bear.”

“Did he break his neck?” Sadrahan asked.

“No, he fell onto a bear cub, the mother tore him apart, bad luck, I’m afraid.” Sarthas shrugged, “The humans however, are asking what they’re allowed to do with the bodies.”

“Bury them in the fields, it will help the crops grow.” Sadrahan said, giving the most practical answer he knew. ‘What else would anyone do with dead bodies? Why even ask me that?’ He wondered.

“I… I understand, of course, My Lord. The hunt was a massive success other than the single death, with multiple bears brought down, not to mention nesting fowl and even some winter fruits that were stumbled upon. Should I… distribute it appropriately?” Sarthas inquired and cocked his head.

“Yes, of course you should.” Sadrahan replied and scratched his horn, “Why wouldn’t you?”

“Ah, no reason, I just wanted to be sure, My Lord. I just wanted to be sure.” Sarthas replied… “Now, I-I understand you don’t want to be bothered during your time with your daughter, so I will explain everything to Klemet and Shala, and then have Batagan handle the distribution and arrange for a feast. Would you care to speak? You are the Lord after all?” Sarthas’s fangy smile was answer enough.

Sadrahan couldn’t say no. “Yes, Yes I will, only tell me when it is.”

Sarthas knelt and bowed his head, “Of course, My Lord, I regret any misunderstandings I might have had with you on these things.”

“It's… nothing.” Sadrahan muttered and turned his focus back to Lamashi, barely noticing what he answered or what Sarthas said.

Not one hour later, Sarthas was standing in front of a kneeling Klemet and Shala.

“Please, tell us how we did, what will happen now… I know the wall hasn’t gone as far as we wanted, but please, the hunt wasn’t easy, one who would have gone was sickened and died, and Mican died out there…” Klemet began his protest immediately, until Shala reached over and put two fingers over his lips.

“The Demon Lord has said that the dead can be buried in the field, in accordance with our customs.” Sarthas stated, his hands folded behind his back, for a moment Klemet and Shala stared up open mouthed.

“But our customs for the dead-” Shala began to protest until Sarthas raised a palm and held it out between he and they.

“You don’t understand. I spoke with the Demon Lord about what happened. The dying Mican, the dead man who passed away today, and he… he was emotional over it. He had to cover his face with his arm to keep from showing what he felt. It seems… he’s come to believe you, humans. And because he believes you, he’s chosen to allow you to bury your dead as one of us. Just to be sure, I asked how to distribute the game, and he said to do it appropriately, which is to give you the hunters share. He may not let you leave, still. But it seems your days of fearing that he will kill you are at an end.” Sarthas explained with his natural calm indifference.

“Then he was pleased.” Klemet said and rising to his feet, he stepped back and checked around the corner, seeing no one, he returned to kneel to Sarthas again.

The place where they conversed was an outcropping of the mountain, sheltered on three sides by stones large enough to hide a demon, even including a large rock suitable for Sarthas to seat himself on when he felt like it.

Certain of his security, Klemet went on, “Pleased that I removed Mican as he instructed. By the Demon Lord’s own words to me, no traitors could exist here. He said I, we, were to be tested. Mican betrayed me, trying to get me to speak insults to the Demon Lord, but His Lordship saw through the ploy immediately and promised us a future if we earned it, and earned it through loyalty. If Mican would betray me, he would betray His Lordship… now Mican is dead, and he adds us to his numbers? I’ve heard of his deep, layered thinking and the complex orders he gives, so I wondered but…”

Sarthas brought his palm to his own face and rubbed his hand up and down, his claws scraping lightly at his skin, “Of course… Liln and Batagan said he did the same thing with them.”

“It is how we got here, or so I’ve heard. Now that the traitor is dead… but… what of the other demons?” Shala pressed and reflexively covered her belly as if to protect the life stirring within. “They hate us, they want to kill us…”

“If word spreads that the Demon Lord believes you are innocent, the others will come around. Come spring when the ground is softer, you will be given plots of land here to hold as your own, like all the other demons. Liln has already told me that you will be their Voice, so I leave it to you to spread to the other humans… but keep the death of Mican to yourself. Never speak of his accident to anyone. It’s enough for you to know that the Demon Lord knows. In addition, he plans to give a speech at your feast, so prepare a space for him.”

“It will be done. We’ll tend to the bodies and explain the future to the others… it’ll be a great relief to them all.” Shala said, and reached out with her hand to take that of Klemet, he squeezed her slender fingers and reveled in their warmth when he added…

“It certainly is to us.”

“I’m sure.” Sarthas said, and then tilted his chin toward the way out, dismissing them to carry out their orders, when they vanished he asked himself, ‘How long will it be before I can match one tenth of My Lord’s depth of thought… will I ever?’

‘Probably not.’ He realized, but found to his surprise, that it was a less depressing thought than he expected.