Chapter 49 Elowen
ELOWEN
“Well, well—what have we here?” the Fire Demon says, looking me and Theron over. “A priestess and a Drake, is it? What an odd pair. Whatever do you want of me?”
I open my mouth to answer, but he holds up a hand, his hand and fingers glowing with the living flames crawling all over them in little tongues of fire.
“No, no my dear—such revelations cannot be rushed. Do come inside so that we can all get to know each other.”
I start to step inside but Theron is suddenly standing between me and the demon. He’s so close I worry about him catching on fire, but he doesn’t flinch from the burning being on the threshold. Maybe his Drake’s fire makes him immune to the supernatural heat.
“I don’t think so,” he growls, looking at me. “It’s not safe to go into a demon’s residence. You have to pay a toll to get out again.”
Oh…I didn’t know that. My heart stutters in my chest at the idea of being trapped in the demon’s mansion.
But the Fire Demon waves one burning hand in a gesture of casual negation.
“Oh please, my dear Drake, that’s just superstition. And anyway, how can you get what you want from me if you just stand there in the doorway? We must get to know each other first if I’m to decide if I want to help you or not.”
“How did you know we came to ask for something?” I say, frowning.
The demon spreads his hands.
“Why else would you travel all the way to the Southern Wastelands—which are notoriously inhospitable to humans—and seek me out in my home? I dare say you didn’t just come to say ‘hello,’ so it must be that you want or need something from me.” He smiles at me genially. “That’s logic, my dear.”
I feel stupid. Of course he’s right. No sane person would show up on the doorstep of a demon’s house without a good reason.
“Do relax and come inside,” the demon says to us. “I swear on my dear mother’s grace that I won’t charge you any kind of price or toll to leave again. I value my privacy, you know. I like having company, but I don’t want them staying forever,” he adds.
Theron and I exchange looks. I can tell he’s still reluctant for us to enter the demon’s home, but how else are we going to get what we need from him?
He doesn’t seem willing to do anything out here and besides, the sun overhead is getting extremely hot.
I’m sweating in a way I wasn’t when I was riding on his Drake’s back—up in the sky with the wind rushing through my curls, I never get overheated.
But down here on the cracked dessert ground it’s pretty miserable.
As if the mansion has heard my thoughts, a cool breeze blows from inside and curls around me. It flirts briefly with my hair and cools my heated cheeks almost like a chilly hand, inviting me in.
That’s it—I don’t want to stay out in the heat and there’s no way we’re completing this quest without going in.
“I’ll come in,” I say, lifting my chin. “As long as you promise we can leave freely again when we’re ready to go.”
“Why, I thought I just made that promise,” the demon says. “But yes, I promise yet again—neither I nor anyone or anything in my house shall impede your departure when you are ready to leave.”
“Thank you,” I say, and step past him into the mansion.
For a moment, I think that Theron won’t come with me. But finally, with a frustrated growl, he enters.
“Very good.” The demon closes the door behind us.
I blink for a moment, trying to get my eyes used to the dim interior. I see we are in a grand but gloomy entrance hall full of polished wood and portraits of other demons in gleaming gold frames. There are lamps here and there but they’re very low, not throwing off much light at all.
The Fire Demon himself is the best source of illumination in the whole place. His burning skin glows reddish-gold in the dark hallway.
“Welcome to my humble abode,” he says, turning to me and Theron. “My name is Salazar, by the way. Might I know your names as well?”
“I’m—” I begin.
“A priestess of the Nature Goddess,” Theron interrupts me. “And I’m a Drake shifter—just as you thought when you first saw us.”
“Mmm, so I’m simply to call you ‘priestess’ and ‘Drake’?” Salazar shakes his head. “Ah, a shocking lack of trust, I fear—not to mention a shocking lack of manners. Nevertheless, come with me.”
He nods for us to follow him and continues down the hallway. Theron and I stay a few steps behind. I wish I could ask him why he didn’t want to give the demon our names, but I don’t dare—I’m sure that Salazar would hear us.
He leads us through the mansion—which is rather like a maze.
We go through so many grand rooms decorated in Baroque finery that I lose count of them all.
There are music rooms filled with instruments I don’t recognize, sitting rooms, studies, libraries, and a beautiful arboretum with a glass domed ceiling filled with flowering plants and trees all encircling a beautiful fountain bubbling with crystal clear water.
The sight of water makes my throat feel dry—or maybe it’s the curse still working on me.
I can still remember the taste of Theron’s seed—sweet cinnamon candy—and I wish I could have some more.
But he seems to think that if he even gets too close to me, he won’t be able to control himself.
Though why he’s having these difficulties now, when he was able to keep from taking me on numerous other occasions, I don’t understand. If he would just—
“Ah, here we are.” Salazar’s smooth voice interrupts my thoughts, and I look up to see we’re in a kind of sitting room.
It’s smaller than the other rooms in the mansion—almost cozy.
There’s a low leather couch across from an ornately carved wingback leather chair of the same pattern.
To one side of the furniture is a small fireplace.
You wouldn’t think you’d need a fireplace in a mansion situated in the middle of a hot, arid desert but it’s surprisingly cool here, so I don’t mind a bit when Salazar walks over and touches the tip of his index finger to the wood already laid out in the hearth.
The flames from his finger crawl to the dry kindling and in no time a friendly little fire is crackling to life and setting the cozy sitting room aglow with warmth and light.
I’m surprised that the fire is so tame—isn’t Hell Fire supposed to be frightening and all-consuming?
Well, not in this case, apparently. Everything seems homey and comforting.
I find myself relaxing, even though Theron is still on the alert, his tarnished silver eyes darting all around the room, as though he’s looking for hidden traps.
“Please my dear priestess, do have a seat,” Salazar offers, nodding at the brown leather couch. “And dear Drake, I pray you shall seat yourself beside her and get comfortable.”
I sit gingerly on the couch, which is immensely comfortable—neither too firm nor too soft and Theron—after a final wary look around the room—settles himself beside me.
“Now then, you two want a favor of me and I assure you, I want to grant it—really I do,” the demon says. “But first, who’s up for some refreshments?”
“We don’t want anything,” Theron says at the same time I say,
“I’d love something to drink.”
“Something to drink—something nice and cool to ease your parched throat, no doubt,” Salazar says, giving me a knowing look and ignoring Theron’s glare. “Give me just a moment to nip into the kitchen and get you something.”
“Oh, but don’t you have servants?” I ask, surprised. “I mean, in such a big mansion—”
“They’re shy, I fear.” Salazar makes a mournful face.
“They, too, are demons, you see—lesser demons. No doubt they sense your Drake’s fire, and it frightens them.
So as long as you’re with me, I shall do the little domestic duties myself.
I don’t mind,” he adds, turning towards the door. “I rather like being domestic.”
Then, with a wink of one glowing golden eye, he turns and leaves, shutting the door behind him.