5. Hailon
Chapter 5
Hailon
N ot waking up until after midday definitely diminished my credibility for arguing that I was well enough to get on the road.
When I rolled over on the plush pillow into a face full of sunshine, I immediately went into a panic. Heart racing, I sat up and had my eyes fixed in the direction my bedroom door should have been in before I realized what was happening. But there was no Ignus tromping up the stairs to retrieve me, no punishment to anticipate for sleeping in.
Instead of my dull room at the house, I was greeted by the soft sound of a big water pot steaming over the fire, the rounded log walls of the cabin, and the rhythmic thud of an axe hitting a stump somewhere outside. It was downright cozy. It would be far too easy to fall into a fantasy about having something like this every single day of a regular, boring life. Unfortunately for me, I’d never had one of those, and it was unlikely I’d get one in the future.
I let out a deep sigh when I moved my feet to get out of bed and heard no chains clanking, felt no bite of metal around my ankles.
My body was still sore and stiff, but my muscles warmed up quickly as I moved around the cabin. I made use of the bathroom, then reapplied the ointment Seir had found to as many of my bruises and scrapes as I could. To really do a thorough job, I would need help and probably a whole second tub, so I had to make some judicious choices. My neck and shoulders were still scratchy, but the burn was easing nicely after using the thick balm. The wound on my wrist thankfully hadn’t been as deep as I’d thought and had scabbed over.
The demon had left me more food on the little table as well, which I happily sat down to enjoy. I probably should have been wary about it, but finally having ample food after weeks of being hungry left me far less suspicious than I should have been. His intentions seemed the very opposite of malicious toward me, besides. In fact, it was a wonder I felt inclined to fight so hard against his company when I tallied up how considerate and helpful he’d already been. I decided it was mostly that I’d always been the caretaker and didn’t really know how to let someone else do that job for me.
As I was wiping up my plate with the last few bites of bread, he came through the door, arms stacked high with firewood.
“Oh good, I was starting to worry you might be dead,” he teased, his tail efficiently removing the topmost pieces and setting them in the fire. It was fascinating to watch.
“Not yet,” I replied, sitting back in my chair. “You didn’t check on me?”
As he transferred the wood—now with his tail and hands—to the metal holder next to the hearth, he glanced over at me with a grin. He’d braided thin sections of hair on either side of his face and joined them behind his head with a strip of leather, showcasing his high cheekbones and the freckles sprinkled over them. His shirt was unbuttoned partway, and he had the sleeves rolled up past his elbows, giving me a good look at the greenish runes tattooed across his chest just below his collarbones and down his breastbone.
“Of course I did,” he said, straightening up, dusting his hands together. “You were breathing just fine. And see? I was right. You needed the rest.”
I rose to wash my plate, face burning with embarrassment. I’d been staring again. I was sure of it. And he’d seen me doing it. But there was no way to stop myself; he was ridiculously pretty.
“Point taken. But tomorrow, please wake me. I really would like to get on the road.” My chest squeezed tight, worry that I had already been gone too long pressing in. My cursed gift had been part of me as long as I could remember and was needed by those closest to me for the same reasons I was taken and exploited for it. I had to get back to Sal.
Seir retrieved the pot of hot water and walked with it into the bathroom, filling the tub again. For himself, I presumed, since I’d done nothing more strenuous than sleep and he’d been busy with laborious things like chopping wood and foraging for food.
“No promises, but I think tomorrow is probably reasonable.” He carried the pot outside, filled it with water from the pump and rehung it over the flames. The stray drops on the outside of the massive iron kettle hissed and popped as they burned away. “I know you just ate, but are you up to preparing supper while I bathe? Better chance of getting an early start if we’re not tying up all the loose ends too late into evening.”
“I’m not much of a cook,” I admitted.
“Nothing complicated required, I was going to use up as many of the odds and ends as I could in a stew so they aren’t wasted. A little chopping, some water, and let it sit on the heat.” He smiled. “I do love food this side of the gates. Much more variety.”
I nodded, thoughts scrambled by his statement, not to mention his half-dressed close proximity. I kept forgetting he was a creature of Hell until reminded. That was concerning, honestly, especially considering I’d just been marveling at the utility of his tail .
Seir showed me the small pile of oddly sized root vegetables and a freshly cleaned fowl he’d brought in while I was sleeping. He smelled like pine resin and sulfur as he leaned over me to pull down a heavy cooking pot from the shelf.
“Knife,” he said, standing basically over the top of me as he pulled open a drawer.
I reached inside and picked up the well-used blade, weighing it in my hand. Seir’s eyes flashed, somehow red in what had to be a trick of the light. “I’m sure you know how to handle yourself with that, so I’ll go get cleaned up.”
I stood in the tiny kitchen for far longer than I wanted to admit, staring after him with my heart thudding behind my ribs and his smirk burned into my thoughts.
True to his word, Seir had us both up and ready to go before sunrise the next morning.
“How have you got everything packed up already?” I asked, coming out of the bathroom to find him serving up some porridge with berries for breakfast, our bags waiting by the door, and the cabin restored to a perfectly tidy condition.
My stew had come out better than I’d expected the previous evening, and between us, we’d eaten the whole pot. I was pretty sure the amount of food I was taking in was ridiculous, but Seir mostly seemed amused by it, continually asking if I needed more. Climbing into that warm, comfortable bed with a full stomach had been one of the loveliest experiences of my life. I remained torn between my need to get back to Aunt Sal and the desire to stay in this little cabin and have more time to enjoy such indulgences.
“I don’t sleep much,” Seir answered quietly, almost as though he didn’t want to disturb the peace of the morning quite yet.
As I sat to eat, he washed and dried the pot, spread out all the fire embers to cool and walked through the cabin as though looking for something.
“Are you going to eat?”
Satisfied with what he found, he huffed out a shy breath and smiled, sitting down in the chair opposite mine.
It was quiet for several minutes as we ate, the hot grains cereal never having been one of my favorite things but certainly something that would be good for a long day of traveling.
He shifted, brows drawn together in a pensive frown. “This morning, I went back to the portal I used when I first arrived. It wouldn’t activate, which is disappointing, but in line with what’s been happening with my other abilities.” He stared off blankly for a moment, then shook his head. “No matter. It didn’t work, but I did happen to find a map in the cabinet.” He reached into his pocket, producing a little rolled piece of parchment. “Hopefully it’s a decent rendering.” The small map was perhaps the size of Seir’s palm; we both had to lean close to make things out as he smoothed it flat on the table.
“This route will take us through or near Revalia.” He grinned broadly as he traced a path that crossed a river and went wide, toward the western coast of Cyntere. “I have people there. But this”—he traced a route that ran from town to town, across the expanse of the realm, all the way to Ravenglen—“is probably the way they brought you.”
I looked at the little triangles indicating mountains, t ’s for forests, and illustrations of serpentine waterways. “What are these?” The markings looked like the letter x but with an odd flourish at the top. Some were grouped together in a way that made them look like skulls.
“I believe those indicate ruins.”
I stiffened. “We should avoid that area.”
“Why?”
“Do your kind not avoid haunted places?” I asked.
He snorted. “Demons have no rivalry with ghosts.” He saw I was unmoved by this declaration and dropped his haughty grin. “But perhaps it’s different here?”
“It is believed that a long-dead king haunts the remains of his castle there. The problem is, the ruins are so decayed often travelers don’t realize they’ve stumbled into them until it’s too late. If the tales are to be believed, he doesn’t take kindly to trespassing, even hundreds of years past his reign and death.”
“Go on.” Seir’s eyes grew wide, and he struggled to contain his smile the more I told him.
“People who venture there often go missing or end up mysteriously dead. There are some rumors about those who survived but then suffered a lifetime of bad luck. Every child knows the stories, mostly to discourage them from wandering too far from home but also as a warning.”
Instead of being put off by mysterious and gruesome deaths, unexplained bad luck, curses, and much more, Seir had grown positively starry-eyed with excitement.
“How thrilling! I’d love to meet such a wonderfully vengeful spirit.” After that, he was suspiciously quiet, eyes narrowed in thought as he looked over the map. One of his palms made small circles against his chest, right over his heart.
Seir’s expression went blank again, and he was suddenly impatient with his breakfast, inhaling large bites one after another.
“Are you alright?” I asked, watching with horrified fascination.
He paused, bowl held up near his mouth, spoon suspended mid-motion. “Fine. Why?” he mumbled.
“You seem to be in a hurry. Should I be worried?”
“Ah.” He set his bowl down very gently, something like chagrin crossing his face. “Just anxious, I guess. I’ve never been on a journey like this before.”
The admission took me by surprise. “No? I thought you said you were a traveling demon?”
He shook his head and licked the last bits from his dish with his tongue. I found it difficult to swallow for reasons I didn’t want to think too hard about as I watched him efficiently clean his bowl.
“I’m used to portals, or jumping. Sifting. At the very least having functional wings. Walking long distance will be a novel experience for me.”
I wasn’t sure what to think about that. “We don’t have to walk the whole way, do we?” I asked, calculating the kind of time that might add to the days I’d spent in the wagon, not to mention how taxing it would be to do so.
He shrugged and rose, collecting our dishes and taking them into the kitchen to wash. “I don’t know. But I promise to get you home as quickly as I can.”
“Thank you,” I said, glad he couldn’t see my face. If he did, he might see that I meant for more than the breakfast or the dishes. For more than offering to travel with me, even after I basically told him I didn’t need his help. Twice. Especially for helping me escape Ignus. Not that I was ashamed over what I’d done, but he might see how thankful I was to him for allowing me to get revenge on those men for all the torment they put me through. He might see too much, and he’d already seen more than most, despite our very short time together.
The list of things I could owe him for—even just a “thanks”—was far longer than I liked, especially for someone I basically just met. I hated owing anyone anything.
And while I’d already protested needing his company, I wasn’t completely ungrateful to have him willing to travel with me. Making my way all the way to Ravenglen on my own was a daunting task. I could do it, but it would be easier with someone else there. Especially someone as quick to take care of things as this demon was.
“Shall we?” He reached out to help me up once he’d shouldered his own pack, and a flush ran through me from head to toe at the contact. “I suspect if we get going, we’ll be able to make it to that little settlement near the river by nightfall tomorrow. Eddington, I think the map had it marked. Perhaps we’ll be able to find a horse there.”
“Ignus sometimes traveled to Eddington,” I agreed. “I recognize the name. He was never gone more than a few days.”
“He did business there?” Seir asked as he led me back down the street the way we’d come, my eyes warily watching for any familiar faces.
“Yes. He bartered grain for making liquor. I’m sure he peddled my healing services, too, given the number of strangers that came through the house just for that.”
Seir’s expression went stony again, and he grunted. His fingers flexed against my skin, his hand warm and still. After a beat, he turned and walked out the cabin door. I followed him, silently thanking the cabin for its hospitality, wishing things were different and I could just stay there in the nice bed for as long as I wanted.
As I walked out into the brisk morning air, I realized again that summoning Seir had changed everything about my life, and I was only beginning to see what all that might mean.