Most demons’ stamina far outstrips that of humans, but in all respects but intelligence I was near the bottom of ‘most demons’, and by the time I pulled myself to shore I was thoroughly exhausted. The twin suns had risen and were high in the sky, and my surroundings had changed from forest to flatlands, marking me as outside Phlox’s – well, now Aconite’s – demesne.
I rested up as best I could under the suns and ate some dried fruit and meat from my pack, keeping a wary eye on the elk and bison grazing nearby. They might be feeding on grass now, but I didn’t trust them not to try me for seconds. Hesperia’s animals had grown nasty to not be hunted to death.
My pack was lined with oilskin, as close to waterproof as I could get, and while aquatic escapes weren’t why I wanted it I was willing to call those a fringe benefit. It had kept both my food and more importantly, my map of Hesperia mostly dry. The map was covered with light tracings in pencil, which I’d constantly redrawn to reflect shifts in the warlords’ territories.
It seemed I’d come ashore in the Tessalion Plains. Uncontested territory among the major powers, but as it was home to nomads instead of armies, it wasn’t a place where I had spent much time. Right now I stood in a field of shining white-gold flowers, and the sweet aroma I breathed in I assumed was their doing. The grass was a vivid dark green, up to my knee height. But I couldn’t just stand around enjoying the sights. I needed to find a place to lay low, and a minute perusing my map suggested one.
The wind tousled my hair as I made my way across the plains, past trees painted autumn colors and lowing, lumbering wildebeests. It was calm here, quiet and peaceful in a way I hadn’t known for months. Strange to feel at first, after all the time I’d spent planning attacks or watching for ambushes. But able to see anyone coming a mile away, I could zone out and walk until I reached the road, checking the twin suns again before bearing south.
If my map was right, I was heading away from the nearby city of Hymetos. Aconite might not favor cities, but there was still too great a chance I’d find someone looking for me there. The road was fairly empty of travelers, at least, just a pair of rabbitfolk who steered wide around me when they saw my weapons. I couldn’t blame them, though. Especially out in the wild, it paid to be wary of demon strangers.
A few dark smudges in the distance grew slowly into buildings, and with very little fanfare I found myself entering a town. Monem, my map had said, next to a dot a flea would struggle to find. My legs were aching in a way I’d been increasingly failing to ignore, so finally being here was a huge relief. Now I just needed a place to rest.
Walking among the tarred wooden buildings, there was no real street or paving stones to speak of, just some patches of dirt where the grass underfoot had died. I’d guess whoever first settled here had thrown up a few houses and called it a day, The village couldn’t house more than a hundred demons, but the first building with more than one story seemed like a good bet for what I wanted. A sign stuck in the ground denoted it as The Sleepy Ogre, and I made my way inside.
The front door led into a large, wood-furnished room, with a lit fireplace crackling to my left and a few worn cushions set out in front of it. A wooden staircase punctuated the far wall behind the innkeeper’s counter, and to my right I could hear clattering dishes echoing through the doorway. The orcish man at the counter wore a dark shirt open to show his muscled chest, which didn’t immediately endear me to him, but I’d tolerate it for a place to sleep.
He nodded to me as I came to the desk, gray-eyed gaze calmly evaluating. Up close I could see the orc looked older than I’d thought – not outright old, and he was clearly in good shape, but there were streaks of gray in his black hair and stubble, something I’d seen very rarely among other demons. He must have Emerged in an unusually mature body. “Hey, there,” he greeted me in a low, mellow voice. “Looking for a room?”
“I am, yes.” This place hadn’t looked like it could house many guests, from the outside, but so far it did seem clean and well-maintained, so I’d maintain a hopeful skepticism for the rooms’ own quality. I doubted many long-term guests would come through Monem anyway.
“Two obol a night. Though I reserve the right to bring that up if you start making a racket or tearing the beds apart.” He smiled, but in a way that I didn’t think he was joking. “I’m Sedum Acre.”
“Anthurium.” Names were always convention to give, but he didn’t need to know more than that, and from the nod at my short response I could see him consciously acknowledge it. I appreciated a respect for privacy. We’ve all got our scars, and I could see some old ones on his chest and neck. No sense in poking at wounds seen or unseen.
“Cheers. I’ll spare you the spiel about food and drink, you look like you can find ‘em just fine without me telling you how.” Sedum chuckled, placing a brass key on the counter. “Any trouble on the road?”
I pushed two iron coins across in exchange. “Not in particular, no.”
“Lucky, that. Monem itself is safe enough, but traveling alone’s always chancy.” Sedum shook his head. “Well, breakfast starts serving not long after sunup. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Will do,” I replied, thinking he shouldn’t count on it.
There was an unadorned mirror on the wall by the stairs, and I glanced at my reflection as I passed it. Looking back at me was a tall, willowy woman with long raven hair, perfect clear skin, and soulful green eyes you could lose yourself in— ha, ha, yeah right.
No, I just looked about the same as I ever had these last ten years. My hair could probably use a trim, dark brown bangs blowing into my eyes even with my glasses, ramlike horns a weight atop my head I was well used to. Ash-brown skin with darker markings in places, tattoo-like stripes that I’d had since ‘birth’, though I’d gathered plenty of scars to join them beneath the heavy black cloth of my gambeson.
I'd have had to stand on tiptoes to see below my neck in the mirror, though. I consoled myself with the lie that it was at a height for orcs.
My room was small but clean, with the inn’s same wooden floors and furnishings. It didn’t have much but the necessities, a table and chair and a bed larger than I’d need. And a window, always useful if I had to leave in a hurry.
I checked to make sure the lock actually worked, wedged the chair against the door as extra security, and tucked my dagger under the thin, deflated pillow. Then I collapsed into bed. If there were bedbugs, I’d reap the consequences tomorrow.
- - -
I slept in late enough that I’d have been embarrassed if I was still in camp. But walking for a day did take it out of you, my legs were still achingly sore after that, so I couldn’t blame myself too much. Thankfully, I found no itching bumps from bedbugs.
The savory smell of food beckoned, so I scanned my surroundings for threats, then retrieved and donned my armor to go downstairs for breakfast. It turned out to be roast pork and thick oatmeal, and the cost was more than reasonable. Just another obol paid to a scrawny red-skinned imp, and I went back to my room.
Rummaging in my pack, I pulled out a heavy leather-bound case. Inside was the sheaf of parchment where I kept the notes I’d compiled over the years. The first few pages looked like so much gibberish to me now; I’d stopped using a cipher for my notes early on once I realized one, it took more time, and two, my work associates didn’t actually care enough to peek. But I still had cause to bring out my codebook eventually, when I thought to jot down something important to keep secret.
Flipping through the binder, I pulled out one marked page to reference while I worked. I’d never bothered showing it to Phlox, but it was the beginning of how I’d briefed a couple of my past superiors. The ones who I thought could make use of it. A basic summary of the Archons, which any Thesmothete would need to overcome if they wished to rule Hesperia.
The vampire Dreadlord Camas, the rakshasa Tigrida the Mighty, the cyclops Pachypoda the Invincible, and the witch Bryonia Alba.
I spent the next few hours writing out plans to destroy them.
But eventually, I realized I was wasting my time. Yes, if I had sloth demons I could shatter Camas’s castle roof and let sunlight stream down on the vampire lord. With naiads I could quench the flames of Tigrida’s draconic enforcer and overwhelm the raskhasa herself, keeping wary of her illusions. But my plans leveraged things I’d invariably need, and unlike with Phlox or Sarraceni or any of the others past, right now I had nothing. I had no warlord or army or resources, and until I had them or the leverage to get them, this wasn’t strategy. It was a fantasy.
Dimly I noticed that it was getting dark outside, and that my stomach was growling with a painful need. It was stuffy in my room, too; I needed fresh air, and I needed food.
Downstairs, I smelled a meaty flavor in the air, which I could check on shortly. I opened my third eye once more to check for any powerful or familiar demons that might have tracked me here. None were nearby, the same as breakfast, so I made my way out into the night.
I nearly bumped into another woman in the process. She was a harpy, a cute one, whose snowy wings and hair stood out in the dim evening. And she’d been craning her neck looking out into the night before jumping at my arrival, whirling to face me with a surprised little squawk.
“Evening,” I told her, allowing a small smile. Probably for the best that I wasn’t holding a weapon, or I might have done more than startle her. “What’s your name?”
“Ah, hello…” She smiled back cautiously, wings settling down by her sides. Her clothes didn’t cover much, I was noticing now, with short shorts and a cream top that bared shoulders and midriff. “I’m Uvaia. Were you here for dinner? I don’t know how I missed you come in.”
“Anthurium. I haven’t eaten yet, just meant to stretch my legs.” Well, I doubted a stretch would help their soreness at this point. “I’ve actually been inside all day.”
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
“Oh, so you’re a guest!” Uvaia didn’t hide her surprise, dark blue eyes widening. “Ah, right, that’s why I haven’t seen you before. I thought I’d met everyone in town by now.”
More of a social butterfly than I’d thought, then. She’d seemed pretty skittish so far. “I take it this place doesn’t get many guests.”
“Nooo, not really,” Uvaia said, letting out a little laugh and raising one wing to rub her cheek. “It’s pretty quiet here. Doesn’t change much, for… better or worse.” Her eyes turned shadowed for a moment.
Sensing deeper concerns than I might want to delve into, I steered us back to likelier benign topics. “So, do you work here? For the innkeeper?”
“Well, um, I do sometimes work here, but not for Sedum, no,” Uvaia said, laugh sounding more nervous this time. “But he lets me use the rooms here, to share with people who want to. People who are interested in some company?” She smiled hopefully at me, meeting my eyes. Her own sparkled with the promise of suggestiveness. Underneath, though, she looked deeply tired.
Ah, that lent context to her choice of outfit. “Not really the kind of company I’m looking for,” I told her, shaking my head. She was pretty and she’d been pleasant enough to talk to, but sex was a bit much for someone I’d just met. Someone who could take the chance while I slept to rob or devour me, too.
Uvaia drooped. Not just with her wings, but with her full body. Even so, she kept up her smile. “Ah, that’s okay. I hope you have a good rest of your evening!”
She couldn’t actually be that disappointed, could she? She’d only just met me too, and I hardly had the kind of presence that inspired lust at first sight. “Thanks. Maybe I’ll still see you around?”
“Um, yeah! I’ll probably be inside later tonight…” Her smile looked distinctly more wilted, now. And whether it was an act or not, I had trouble walking away from those dejected eyes.
“Confident you’ll find a client, then?” I asked, fairly certain that was not it.
“Oh– no. Sedum lets me sleep by the fire for free when I need somewhere to stay the night.” She shrugged her shoulders, smiling weakly.
I winced. There were a couple explanations for that, and neither painted a good picture. I was about to respond, but a gurgling growl filled the air between us, and I didn’t think it’d come from me.
Uvaia moaned and covered her stomach with a wing. I hadn’t realized how thin she was until now.
“Actually,” I said, deciding I could do something nice for the cute, possibly homeless harpy. “Why don’t you join me for dinner inside? I’d rather not eat alone.”
Uvaia’s head snapped up. “Really?” Her eyes shone with a relief that made me feel validated, cold dead heart or not. Then she hesitated. “Ah, I can’t pay, though.”
I had to give her credit for admitting that now instead of after dinner. Still, being an honest prostitute might explain why she was going hungry. “It’s alright, I can pay for you. Food at places like this can’t be that expensive.” I smiled slightly again. “Besides, I’m sure your company is plenty worth it.”
Uvaia stilled a little, giving me a wide-eyed look for reasons I had trouble decoding. After a second, though, she nodded as resolution settled on her face. “Okay.”
I led the way inside. Sedum was back behind his counter, gaze settling on us, and he smiled at Uvaia before giving me a hard look that felt frankly undeserved with what little he should know of me. I made a note of that, and we entered the dining room.
Dinner turned out to be a cauldron of stew nearly as high as the imp stirring it. There were a half-dozen other demons at the tables all around, a pair of stout pebble-skinned oreads, a helmeted turtle-like kappa giving a critical look to his bowl, and a pair of antlike beastfolk with a mushroom-headed blammigon sitting between them. The imp server, I thought Yaupon was his name, handed us each a small loaf of pale bread with our stew. A good business decision to give us something cheap to fill up on.
Bread and flour-based foods were valuable to feed armies, too. Not the most popular in general, as meat was the preferred cuisine for a majority of demons, but well worth the dip in morale when considering the logistical benefits. Food that would last longer without spoiling and could be baked on the go took significant stress off an army’s supply train. And soldiers complaining about what food they had was far better than rioting over food they didn’t.
An oni named Capsicum I’d had the frustration to know had refused to hear it, fixated on his grand idea of moving fast and feeding his new clan off their conquests. The last I heard he’d crashed hard and fast, and his soldiers had eaten him.
The night’s bread, while oddly shaped, tasted decent enough even if it was dry, and having it with the stew mostly solved that problem. That was the highlight, savory and well-spiced, with a meat that was probably beef at its core and several root vegetables to round it out. I idly mused on the farming demons who grew and raised food. Stronger demons looked down on them, but they held a lot of responsibility for us not starving and tearing each other apart. It was relatable.
“It’s not bad. I can see why this place is popular,” I said, shaking myself out of my thoughts and looking across the table at Uvaia. The sight of her made my lips quirk into a smile; she was tearing into the food without care for manners, bowl held tight in her wings as she guzzled stew down. Some was spilling on her blouse and leaving brown splotches, but with the happy sounds she was making, I couldn’t interrupt.
Inside in the firelight, I could see the caramel color to her skin, and a blue streak in her hair I hadn’t noticed before. It looked good on her. “Looks like you’re enjoying it too?”
“Mmhm!” Uvaia set her bowl down, beaming at me. “So good. I,” A loud belch interrupted her sentence, and she blushed. “I can’t remember when I last had food like this.” Her gaze dropped to her bowl, and she licked her lips absently.
“You can get a refill, if you want,” I told her, smiling back. It looked like she’d put her bread aside, likely to save for a time without this privilege.
She blinked in surprise. “Are you sure? Wouldn’t that cost extra?” She looked hopeful, even so.
“Look at how big the stewpot is, they’re bound to have food left over most days. You’d be doing them a favor using up more.” I shook my head, amused. “Just ask for a refill and don’t mention price. Trust me.”
She bit her lip with a hesitant look, but jumped up and went to do just that. I kept filling my mouth with meat and vegetables, definitely not focusing on the glimpse I’d gotten of her butt. She wasn’t thin everywhere, apparently.
Uvaia came back a minute later, excited. “It worked!” She plopped down across from me, gently holding her stew. “Thanks, Anthurium. I wouldn’t have been brave enough on my own.”
“You’d be surprised what you can get if you convince people you deserve it,” I told her, smiling. “Doesn’t the orc already let you stay here for free? I’m sure you could talk him into giving you free meals too.” I wasn’t sure if it was romantic, sexual or paternal, but from the look Sedum had shot me he seemed to have a soft spot for her.
Uvaia’s face fell. “Ah. Maybe.” She took a slurp of her stew, looking down at it instead of me. “I wouldn’t really want to ask. The fireplace was something he offered me, but begging for free things can make people resent you fast.”
Her voice had the bitter ring of experience, and I grimaced. “Not the easiest way to make ends meet, huh.” I’d never been reduced to begging myself, but I’d seen enough of cities’ underbellies to get the picture.
“Not exactly, no.” Uvaia sighed, and took another wet gulp from her bowl. She raised her eyes with an apologetic look. “Sorry, I’d rather not talk about this.”
“Sure, that’s fine.” I’d rather not dwell on that time, either. “I’d hope your current job’s a step up from that?” Though I wasn’t certain it would be. Prostitution often wasn’t the most voluntary of professions.
She faintly smiled. “Ah, well, it pays! When I can… find people, who do pay.”
“Right.” Stupid question. I had to stop putting my foot in my mouth. “Well, maybe while I’m in town I can try to send some business your way,” I said, only half-joking.
“Oh, you’re a matchmaker, huh?” Uvaia chuckled softly. “If you want to do me a favor, I think there’s easier ways.” She raised her eyebrows.
“Easier? I don’t know, depends how much you charge.” She laughed a little louder at that, gratifyingly. “No, but I have done a bit of matchmaking in my time. One time I saved my boss’s life by sending a mothgirl to her bed.”
“You’re making that up.” Uvaia was smiling like she didn’t know whether to play along with a joke.
I smirked at her. “Try me.” And I launched into a story about my old boss Sarraceni, the trio scheming to overthrow her that I’d sniffed out, and how I’d broken their plot by learning one lonely mothgirl had been pining over Sarra, convincing my boss to win her back to her side in bed.
By the end of my recounting, both of our moods had lifted, and Uvaia was laughing at my description of the other conspirators’ faces when they’d walked in to see their friend in their enemy’s arms. “Oh, wow,” she said, grinning and putting down her empty bowl. “I thought you were just making a joke, but you sure made that sound real.” She eyed me curiously. “So, were you Sarraceni’s bodyguard, or something?”
“…Something like that, yes.” I’d left out several of the gory details, like what Sarra and her lover had done to the others next. Or that she'd been a Thesmothete, an aspiring warlord.
“That’s really amazing.” Uvaia shook her head, gaze turning wistful. “I wish I could do something like that. I’m nowhere near strong enough.”
That made me hesitate. I looked around briefly, seeing no one who could overhear. This still wasn’t smart to say out loud. “To be honest, I’m not strong at all either,” I whispered to her anyway. Maybe I was just weak to a pretty face, maybe I felt some kind of kinship with Uvaia. “But there are other ways to get what you want.”
“Really?” Uvaia’s eyes went wide, and I gestured sharply to keep her voice down. “I wouldn’t have thought that at all. You’re way more confident than me.”
“Yes, that is one of those ways to get what you want.” I snorted. “But listen, we are both demons, you know? The sky’s really the limit for how strong we could get. One of us could be the next Demon King some day.”
She smiled faintly. I could tell she didn’t believe me. “It’s a nice thought.”
Silence fell between us, and we were done eating, but I found I didn’t want to say goodnight just yet. “So, supposing I did want to ask you upstairs after all. How much is your rate?”
Uvaia looked visibly startled. “Ten obol for a night, but… you do actually want to pay me?”
“What do you mean?” I’d missed some serious miscommunication here.
“You paid for my meal, so I thought…” She shook her head, swallowing. “You said dinner would be worth my ‘company’. It’s okay, really, it’s nothing new! This is better than people who don’t ask until after, and ask if I’m going to just leave after what they did for me, and I don’t want to make them mad so I just-” She faltered, there.
“No, Uvaia, hey.” I shook my head hard, wincing as I felt an ache in my chest. “I didn’t mean anything like that. I just wanted to talk to you. The meal was for you to enjoy, that’s it. Zero expectation of anything else.”
Her mouth fell open slightly, and she stared as I continued. “I shouldn’t have asked just now, I should have realized the context. You’ve got a tough job, hell, I know what that’s like, you can just take a night off! And forget what I said. You shouldn’t have to sleep with anyone you don’t want to—”
“Hey.” Uvaia spoke softly, moving around to my side of the table. She leaned her head in towards me, and I stuttered to a halt as our foreheads touched.
“I do want to,” Uvaia murmured, her voice soft and her eyes bright. “With you, I want to. Anthurium.”
I swallowed. My heart was beating fast in my chest. “Right. Good. That’s settled, then.”
“Yeah.” She smiled warmly and pulled back. Somehow I’d only noticed now how she was half a head taller than me. “Let’s go upstairs?”
I nodded assent. We cleared our dishes and passed through the front room, a bounce in Uvaia’s step that hadn’t been there before. Sedum looked over again, but his expression relaxed this time. And he showed me a respectful nod.
It was true that I couldn’t make Uvaia the next demon queen. But for now we could still enjoy each other’s company. Really enjoy, not just try and force it. And anyway, it wasn’t that much money.