Chapter 31
Dragons and Demons continued for many more rounds. Arek never predicted wrong as the Guesser. Alus enjoyed himself no matter who held which role or won the play.
“What did Errshek reveal about Neyu’s unmaking?” Saer asked his next question with as much neutrality as he could muster while his heart pummeled against his ribcage.
The Twins had exchanged loaded glances before Arek cleared his throat and answered. “That you willingly carried out the command, and you blamed him.”
Saer’s lower jaw jutted forward, his knuckles cracking when he balled his hands into fists. Errshek hadn’t lied, and so Arek wouldn’t have detected the falsehood. Fury blazed through his nerve endings, carving along every muscle of his body.
For the following query, he paused to consider why it should matter before throwing caution to the wind. “Why did you welcome me, after what Errshek told you?”
Alus took this one. “I can’t fish out deception as well as my better half.” His gaze flicked towards Arek. “But I know the Bambino didn’t tell us everything.”
Arek’s analytical silence pierced through him before his next question. “Why haven’t you recounted your version of events?”
Why hadn’t he? Arek would know if he lied or not.
Saer regarded the Twins, weighing all he’d learned.
He still didn’t have all the pieces, himself.
He hadn’t a clue as to how Errshek found out about his relationship with Neyu, nor why he’d told their maker.
I didn’t know—the first sentence Errshek spoke when Lucifer departed his body.
Even telling them about their maker’s all-encompassing threat versus Neyu’s demise alone wouldn’t convince them that Errshek had to die. He needed those answers before the Twins could be swayed.
Saer filled his lungs with a deep inhale. “Because he didn’t tell me everything, either, before he ran.”
The Twins both frowned at that.
He won his next truth. “Where is Kalia?”
Alus and Arek offered shrugs and head shakes. “Your guess would be as good as ours, Eldest.”
“Would you consider allowing Errshek to live?” Arek asked.
“No.” Saer’s succinct, mirthless response.
Neither could convince him otherwise. Nor did they have the power to force him. While Gluttony hadn’t seemed bothered or surprised by the revelation, Greed continued to disapprove with a hard frown.
He learned more of Errshek’s time with the Twins, including nuances as to why he left.
“He’s the worst fighter amongst us,” Arek explained with his well-known pragmatism.
“No matter if he spent centuries training, he’s not built for it, even if he is Daemoenic.
He’s looking for bodyguards. Or shields. From you.”
Alus flagged another serving girl to bring them a bowl of dried legumes. The lithe brunette held the dish out to Gluttony, standing too close for anyone’s comfort—anyone but Alus. The twin grinned and tugged her closer, using his other hand to curl her hair behind an ear.
Another pointed ear.
Saer narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing while she giggled and Alus kissed her high cheekbone. The twin took the finger food from her and guided her gently away.
As the female moved off, Saer shifted between heat sense to soul sight and back. Nothing else abnormal. Perhaps an unusual family trait for this village?
His musing ceased when Alus resumed their conversation, peeling the legumes and tossing edible nuggets between his lips as he spoke.
“We have no interest in facing you again after our first battle in the Hells. I’ve had my ass kicked a thousand different ways, but I’d prefer if the outcome of aforementioned ass-kicking had meaning.
You’d win, even against the three of us.
The Bambino is desperate.” Gluttony tossed shells on the ground and offered a few of the chewable tidbits to Arek, who waved a hand away.
Alus shrugged and popped them into his mouth.
While something in Saer swelled with pride to hear the acknowledgement, another piece nagged at him. “You think I’d destroy you both to get to Errshek?”
The silence held thick before Arek finally filled the void. “We have no interest in testing that theory.”
The unforgiving truth struck Saer in the ribs.
Though he didn’t argue.
The dice were put up, but the conversation went on.
Throughout the rest of the night, and even as dawn began to light the sky, they exchanged more stories, the focus on Neyu. Saer, inspired by Arek’s question earlier, returned the inquiry. “What’s your favorite memory with her?”
Only Lust had ever bested Arek during their invented dice game, and he regaled them with the tale in his usual sardonic fashion, Alus interrupting here and there with less-than-helpful but delighted commentary.
Her play had been effortless but brilliant. As the Roller, Neyu kept her palm flat on the bottom of the mug. She didn’t bother to peek at the pieces underneath. Instead, meeting Arek’s lavender eyes, Neyu made her declaration—“More than twelve points.”
“And your face.” Alus broke in, chuckling at the recollection. “He gawped at her and said, ‘You have to look first!’ She just stared at him, all business, stone-faced, and said, ‘Why?’”
Arek couldn’t read Neyu’s intent to lie or tell the truth if she didn’t know which she told. Saer shook his head slowly, appreciation and longing both in his voice. “Cunning.”
“Too clever for her own good,” Arek confirmed. “The strategy worked for her half the time, though half was better than not at all, in her eyes. I’ll thank you not to take up her mantle. You’ll have to come up with your own backdoor way of besting me.”
“Fair enough.” Saer couldn’t keep the beguiled smile out of his tone.
The horizon brightened as night drew to a close.
Despite lingering stares and suggestive offers from attractive and often inebriated villagers, they remained in one another’s company throughout the night.
Eventually, the night-dwelling townsfolk moved towards retirement, and the demons found themselves amongst the last to shuffle towards the Twins’s humble abode just as the morning market stirred.
As the first beam of rejuvenating sunlight touched their faces, Saer turned his nose upward and breathed a deep inhale.
The night had been long, but the heat of the day star strengthened him, as always.
Though it did prod his memory, and he asked a question he hadn’t thought of earlier. “When did you last see Runeak?”
“Mistress Pain and Misery doesn’t tend to share our philosophies,” Alus said, kicking a stone down the dirt road. “It’s been a minute.”
Saer grunted in acknowledgment. He couldn’t see Wrath tolerating the Twins’ fun-loving nature for too long before she withdrew under threat of tearing their lips off their faces. “Did you see her blood drinkers?” Saer asked.
“You have been out of the game for a long time.” Alus’s response came quick, but somehow not inflammatory, despite the words.
Saer scoffed. “You could just say yes.”
“Yes.” Arek responded in monotone, though the corner of his lip curled up.
Saer somehow managed to keep his glare in check. “Would either of you like to tell me what else I’ve missed then?”
Arek answered with a non-committal shrug. “You’ve seen the Grandfather’s answer to them.”
“What in the Hells does that mean?”
“You could just say no,” Alus quipped.
Saer punched Gluttony hard enough in the shoulder to numb his knuckles, and Alus’s resulting cackle was instantaneous. “Down, Tiger!”
Arek rolled his eyes but went on as though nothing had happened. “They’re opposite but complementary, much like the Draconic are to us. We keep tabs on them—one of the reasons why we’ve stuck to this village for as long as we have.”
“Keep tabs on what?” Saer growled.
“Elves. They’re called elves.”
Saer stared at Arek, hoping to convey—in his expression—that the words came across as gibberish.
Alus chuckled to the side. “You’re doing it again, Bro.”
“I am not acting superior.”
“Mm-hmm.” Gluttony looped his elbow through Saer’s and twirled the two of them around.
He pointed down the road in the direction they’d traversed from.
“You remember that fellow?” Alus singled out the young band member who played the drums periodically through the night, now putting his equipment away.
Saer’s jaw slackened as he recalled. “The pointed ears.”
Alus nodded. “Easiest way to identify them.”
“They work for the Grandfather?”
Arek shrugged, having stopped to watch with the brothers.
“Some seem more dedicated than others. We’ve met a handful of fanatical ones.
Others don’t appear to have too strong a sense of duty.
Though most have an innate dislike of Father’s blood drinkers.
Meddlesome more than anything and certainly not a threat physically. ”
Saer shot Alus a quizzical look. “You flirted with one last night.”
Gluttony grinned, eyes twinkling. “And she liked it.”
Saer and Arek both rolled their eyes. “What else can they do?” Saer asked.
“You boys carry on,” Alus said, thumbing down an alleyway.
“The bakery is opening.” Without further explanation, Gluttony jogged away, headed towards a gentleman well past his prime who’d just begun organizing his baked goods to sell.
Before he reached the man, Alus spun on a heel and yelled back, “Behave yourselves!”
Arek waved Alus away, continuing without acknowledging his mirror’s jab. “Elves are faster and stronger than humans. They age slower. Some’ll work to thwart our harvests, though they’re smart enough to realize we could eliminate them with ease.”
“They have souls,” Saer said. He’d seen it the night prior.
Arek nodded. “They do. Though I’ve not met an elf ballsy enough to dedicate themself to one of us.” He quirked a brow at Saer. “Mages come from their lineage, too.”
The thought hadn’t even occurred to Saer—another source for magic. He exhaled a long, thoughtful breath. “How do blood drinkers hold up against them?”
“Blood drinkers hold the edge in strength, but they’ll burn to a crisp in sunlight or fire. While the elves prefer sunshine, they aren’t restricted from the dark.” Arek shrugged. “The world’s gotten complicated since you decided to stop playing, Saer.”
Scoffing under his breath, Pride shook his head. “The decision to stop playing is an illusion, Areknar.”
“Fair enough.”
Alus haggled with the baker as Saer and Arek observed from afar. While they couldn’t hear the conversation, Gluttony made expansive gestures, taking a basket from the vendor and filling it up with various bread goods. The baker raised his voice, his arms waving with irritation.
“We have three of that poor bastard’s baskets already,” Arek confirmed. “Alus keeps saying he’ll return them and never does.” He sighed and parted ways with Saer then, approaching the breadmaker and his brother.
As Saer watched the Twins go to work, the perfect balance to one another, he couldn’t help the tangled mix of gladness and yearning under his ribcage.
This was a good place that Arek and Alus had found.
He took the last few moments to memorize the faces and forms of the Third and Fourth Daemoenica. The way Alus’s eye corners wrinkled with his ever-present smile. The hard set to Arek’s mouth, which seemed his default. They were a handful. They balanced one another beautifully.
They were complete as a pair.
Saer tore his gaze away, leaving them to their negotiations. He walked down to the shoreline and the rowboats which had been left only the day prior. The ship he’d arrived on remained anchored in the bay.
No goodbye said, Pride made his departure.