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Luz came to slowly.
Dazed, she forced herself up shakily, barely registering Eda’s voice asking if they were okay. Mind buzzing, no words came to her.
Philip, Belos, Philip, Belos-
She turned, looking at Hunter. He sat, eyes unblinking until the spell was broken by the cardinal palisman, the little bird tweeting up a storm as he pecked at the side of Hunter’s head. And Luz’s heart sank as horror rose in his face.
“He knows,” he breathed. “He knows we were in there.”
Luz’s throat felt clogged. It was only a couple weeks ago that she’d met him face to face. Only a couple of weeks ago since they had shared their awe of wild magic, had come to a tentative- if temporary- truce. The fearsome, mysterious, morally ambiguous Golden Guard. But as his breath sped up, as he clutched at the stark white fabric of his sacred cloak, it hit her that he was well and truly just a kid, barely older than her. That he had been just as badly duped as she.
“I can’t- I can’t go back-”
The palisman kept tweeting. Luz had never seen a palisman sound so panicked as the little cardinal as he flitted around Hunter’s head. Luz scooted closer, forcing her mind to focus on Hunter.
Eda, well meaning and ill-timed, reached placatingly toward Hunter. “Kid, breathe.” Said from the mouth of an adult who meant to give care, to take charge of the situation and help the younger. But the command was enough to snap Hunter from his spiral just enough for him to flinch, scrambling to his feet as he tore at the damn cloak. Luz, realizing what was about to happen, forced her jelly-like limbs to move .
Hunter practically threw himself through the door in his panic. Even hyperventilating and stumbling, that boy could move fast when he wanted. Luz could only thank the leftover adrenaline pulsing through her veins that she was able to run after him, able to reach him just as he pitched over the stones of the threshold. She hurled herself forward, catching his hand in hers and holding as hard as she could.
“Hunter, wait .”
He whirled on her, eyes wild and terrified. Luz thought of the wild cats her mother used to set traps for. The way their eyes would search frantically for escape even when the trap had already closed.
“Let me go -” He yanked hard, enough for Luz to stumble. “I need- I have to-”
“Hey!” Eda’s voice thundered behind them. “You both need to calm down.”
Oh, Luz was the opposite of calm. In fact, she could feel the tears she’d been pressing down starting to surface as she felt his arm start to slip from hers. He was bigger. He was stronger. She was lucky he hadn’t gotten her off already.
She turned, beseeching as she locked eyes with Eda, holding his arm to her chest as much as she could. “Please,” her voice cracked.
Thank god, thank the Titan, thank the months of close quarters living. Eda understood.
“Hooty, get them back inside!”
Before Luz could blink, the familiar feathered body was stretching and winding around them, ushering them back through the door. Luz sobbed with relief, even as she felt Hunter’s body tense impossibly further.
“No one in or out, everyone stays inside these wards.”
Eda’s words were stern, leaving no room for debate as the front door slammed decidedly behind them. As soon as Hooty loosened his grip, Luz let go of Hunter. No one, no one, could get past the house demon when he was given an order. Even though it felt wrong, even as her heart squeezed painfully against her ribcage, guilt and anger and despair warring like rabid animals in her chest as she watched his face crumble. She knew that trying to hug him until the world righted itself and everything was the way it was two hours ago it wouldn't have helped.
(When Papa had died, she’d shunned any comfort but her Mama’s. Distant family members and neighbors had passed by in blurs; squeezing her shoulders and murmuring uselessly about everything being okay, that everything would be fine and happy again one day. Through the tears, through the never-ending numbness, it had been enough to spark a bitterness, an anger so acute she didn’t dare speak it.
This wasn’t the same. But it was pretty damn close. And she really doubted Hunter would want something as useless as an “everything will be okay.”)
“Luz, what did you see?”
Eda. Eda, who was looking at her with eyes that had once both been golden. With her gem, sitting dark and heavy at her chest. Eda, once the most powerful witch on the Isles, stared at her with so much concern as Luz realized that this was all her fault.
Her magic lost. Forced into hiding. Forced to take up odd jobs just to feed the one who almost got her petrified. The one who handed Belos his power all along.
King padded over to her, reaching up (so tiny, so young, too young for all of this) to grab her fingers, tugging her toward the couch. She sat heavily as the little demon curled up next to her, his head on her lap as he stared worriedly up at her.
With a worried glance at the boy behind her, Eda seemed to choose her battles and kneel before Luz, and Hooty sidled up to her. And between them, on the other side of the room, curled up on the floor with his back to the wall, staring unblinking at the floor, she saw Hunter. Alone except for the palisman, who had nuzzled himself into the crook of his shoulder. And Luz knew he would accept nothing else for now.
And so Luz began to speak.
She told Eda all they had seen, all that Belos had shown them. The true horror that would be unleashed on the Day of Unity. And finally, as the sobs finally broke from her throat, she told them about what she had done.
“It's my fault. I showed him the glyphs. If I hadn’t helped him, helped him meet the Collector, none of this-”
“Hey,” Long, talon tipped fingers cupped her face, tipping her gaze up. Eda met her eyes. “He manipulated you. That is not your fault. There's no way you could have known.”
Maybe there wasn’t. But if Luz hadn’t been so trusting, hadn’t been so blinded by her own fantasy of meeting Philip, her own quest for answers, maybe she would have seen the warning signs. Eda seemed to sense her thoughts.
“No spiraling. Stop trying to come up with ways to be the bad guy, because you're not. I can play the blame game all night, and you know I play dirty.” Luz gave a wet laugh. She didn’t agree, not for a second. But the joking tone settled something in her, at least for now. How lucky was she, that she could mess up so monumentally, astronomically bad and still have one of the strongest women in the universe laugh about it by her side?
But Eda’s tone shifted as she turned, nodding toward Hunter, who had put his face in his arms. He’d been silent for the last couple minutes as Luz recounted her story. “And what about Blondie?”
Luz had told them everything. But she hadn’t told them what Belos had said about Hunter. That wasn’t hers to tell. She swallowed.
“Belos lied to Hunter, too.” his grip on his arms tightened, burrowing his head as he made a hitched sound. “Never told him the truth. He got rid of the rest of their… family. But now he knows we were both in there, and he- Hunter can’t-”
Eda’s narrowed eyes told Luz that the witch knew she was leaving something out, but the most important piece of truth was there; going back to the Emperor was a death sentence for Hunter.
“Well, Hunter certainly doesn’t have to,” Eda stood, and approached the boy. The palisman chirped up at her, not unkindly. Little rascal didn’t seem to share her witch’s trepidation, instead looking up at the older witch almost hopefully.
“Hey kid, can you take a couple deep breaths for me?”
Hunter, stubbornly, did not. Wisely, Eda did not try to touch him again, instead crouching down to his level. Impossibly, he curled in on himself even more tightly, breath hitching. The cardinal chirped again, hopping up to sit on his head and tug at his wild hair. It would have been funny, if not for the way Hunter’s shoulders shook with the force of silent sobs.
Dully, Luz wondered if he’d trained himself to do that, the way she had. After Papa, during those long, dreary months spent in a haze of therapists and funeral plans and days spent skipping school, Luz had come to hate the heartbroken face her Mama made when she cried for her father, for time to reverse and give him back. But she realized it only made it all hurt worse, when her mother’s lip would tremble and her face would crumble, when the neverending exhaustion in her eyes finally spilled over at the sound of her daughter’s grief. And one day, Luz decided that the comfort wasn’t worth it, and she learned to keep it in until she could muffle her tears into her pillow in the late hours of the night, far away from her mother’s ear.
He’d said Belos took him in, raised him. She can’t imagine that the Emperor’s coven was a very happy place to grow up. Had he sought comfort once? From the man he called family? Had he learned that the comfort wasn’t worth it, too? The thought and all its implications should have filled her with horror, but honestly? It didn’t even surprise her.
“Alright Blondie, I’m gonna need you to listen to me for a minute.” Eda’s voice was placating but firm. “You’re panicking right now, so I’m going to give you two options. You can work with me and try to take some deep breaths, or I can go get something to help you calm down.”
Lilith’s first weeks at the Owl House had been a whirlwind of high emotions. The older Clawthorne sister was tentative and overly polite, anxious to the point of popping feathers over any tiny inconvenience she caused for her sister and her children. And late at night, if she crept silently enough through the house, Luz could hear when all the stress and terror of Lilith’s old mistakes and new curse hit her. Just a few times, on the really bad nights when her sister’s snarky comments or patient words couldn’t calm Lilith, Eda made diluted sleeping nettle tea. Just breathing in the steam was enough to settle a racing heart. It was the same tea that Eda gave Luz, and even King, on sleepless nights (though she suspected Lilith may have been given a slightly higher dosage).
Luz couldn’t help but cringe, though, at Eda’s unintentionally vague wording as Hunter’s head shot up, a new kind of panic in his eyes even as he stilled. He still certainly wasn’t breathing right.
He shook his head, pressing flat against the wall behind him. “ No .”
“She just means tea, Hunter. I have it all the time.” Luz tried to placate from her spot on the couch. Hunter just glared.
“Relax kid, I’m not gonna force feed you tea.” Eda glanced at the bird, and when she spoke again, her tone was directed towards the palisman more than the young witch. “I think your palisman is worried about you.”
Eda held up a hand in offering, and the little bird flitted to perch on her finger and nip at her hand affectionately. Eda gave a dramatic gasp. “Oh, how did a sweet little thing like you end up with a grump like him?”
Eda’s tactic seemed to be working, because for a split second, indignation replaced the sorrow in his eyes. “ Flapjack ,” he said in betrayal.
The bird just chirped again, fluttering back to tug at his hair. He wasn’t calm, Luz could still see the tremor of his hands as they cupped Flapjack to his chest. But at least his gaze seemed a bit more focused.
“Okay, so here’s what's going to happen, kid. It’s late, and you two just went through some real shit. As the only pseudo-responsible adult here, I am not comfortable with anyone leaving this house tonight. Emotions are way too high and the Emperor definitely knew you all were in there. If you want to leave in the morning, we will talk about it, but until I know you’ll be safe on your own you’re staying here.”
“You- you can’t keep me here.”
“Well, no, maybe not forever. But I think I can keep ya locked in for a night.” The Owl Lady punctuated her words with a wink.
The Golden Guard would have made a snarky comment. Would have met Eda’s words as a challenge, staff blazing and oozing confidence. But Hunter’s mask was lost to the dirt of some back alley, and his cloak was rumpled on the ground, golden embroidery winking in the candlelight. Luz got the feeling that really, there was no more Golden Guard.
The boy that used to be the Golden Guard just glared. Just said, in a small, defiant voice, “What are you going to do to me, then?”
Eda snorted. “Throw a pillow and some blankets at you and tell you to call it a night. Don’t look so scared, kid, I save the medieval torture for those two knuckleheads,” she pointed a thumb over her shoulder at King and Luz. “Now, you good with taking the couch?”
Hunter didn’t answer, just put his head back down into his arms. Eda waited one moment, two, before sighing and pushing to her feet. “I know kid. I know.”
The older witch left him there, troubled thoughts clouding her face as she disappeared up the stairs. The room felt bigger, with Eda’s voice gone. Like a chasm had opened, Luz helpless on one side, watching Hunter fall to pieces just out of reach. She was getting really, really sick of feeling helpless.
Something hard and numb resolved in her chest. He didn’t have to accept it. He didn’t even have to like it. But she couldn’t sit and do nothing.
Scooping up King, Luz cradled the little demon and took him to the kitchen. With no words, she one handedly opened the cupboards to skim her fingers over the cool porcelain of Eda’s extensive mug collection. Selecting three, she set them out softly “You want some tea, buddy?”
“Bleh. Hot cocoa.” King squirmed, crawling up her arm to settle on her back, head looking over her shoulder. “Are we really letting that crazy guy stay with us?”
Lightly, she flicked him between the eyes. Her nail tapped against the bone. “Hunter’s not crazy. He just didn’t know better.”
“He kidnapped me.” King said it with more pettiness than actual anger. The way he did when he complained that Hooty stole the last cookie, or when Luz changed the channel on the crystal ball.
“He also just saved me. And now he needs help, and tea always helps.” Please, let the tea help. It felt pathetic, like a dog who’d bitten someone too hard and was trying to lick away the blood. The world was going to end because of her, and all she could think to do was make a stupid cup of tea for one of the people she’d hurt most. Tea that he didn’t even want .
King grumbled but said nothing more, letting her finish boiling the water and prepare the packets of cocoa and tea in each respective mug. For King, she’d pulled down his favorite, covered in pink and yellow stars against deep navy ceramic. His little claws clinked against the cup as she passed it up to him. Against her back, his tail thumped happily as he slurped loudly in her ear.
He’d gotten big so fast, but he was still so little.
One spoonful of blood syrup for Hunter in a cup carved with vines and leaves. Two for Luz in a cup painted with kittens and rainbows. With firebee honey being spicy, turned out witches had turned to processing sap into a syrup that tasted uncannily like orange honey from the human realm. She still hadn’t fully figured out what the cocoa was made of here, though.
Leaving the steeping mugs on the kitchen counter, she wordlessly padded back out into the living room, heading straight for the staircase. Desperately trying not to let her eyes linger on the boy who hadn’t moved an inch from the floor. King, of course, had no such qualms, and leaned precariously over her shoulder to snoop. He almost slipped down her back trying to look through the railing as they ascended.
Hoisting the young demon back up, Luz made a mental checklist. Blankets, pillow, clothes. Blankets, pillow, clothes. Each item decisively collected as King rattled off questions that she answered as patiently as she could. Was the little red bird Hunter’s palisman? Would they be safe with him in the house? Was he any good at games? Did she think a game would make him feel any better?
Ashen trees and bloody bones flashed through her mind, and Luz wished she could go back to a couple hours ago when she had thought a kind word and open hand would be enough to get the Golden Guard on her side. When she thought a couple taunts and teases, playing around with him, would be enough to convince him away from Belos.
But she’d never wanted it to happen like this.
She ran into Eda at the landing atop the flight of stairs. In the candlelight, her inhuman eyes glowed, just as owl-like as her title suggested. But age made itself known in the crow’s feet and frown lines of her face, deepening as her brow pinched in worry. “What’s all this, kid?”
“For Hunter.” His name felt heavy in her mouth. Like a child who had shattered a plate, futilely trying to wipe the mess away with a towel and hands too clumsy to do any real cleaning. Offering a few blankets when his whole life just fell apart. When she was the reason Belos had this power over him at all. The shame and guilt were starting to gnaw their way back up her stomach.
Pale fingers and golden claws combed her hair back gently. “I sent a couple letters out. Made a couple calls. To Lily. To see if anyone knew who sent the flowers. I have a feeling we’re going to need to lay low, for a bit.”
Luz could only nod numbly. Her grip tightened on the stack of meager comforts in her hand. Eda’s eyes flickered to it. “I can take that to him, if you want. You need to rest too, kiddo.”
Luz shook her head fiercely. “I should take it. He’s more comfortable with me. Kind of.”
One gray eyebrow rose skeptically. “Not sure I want you around that angst-fest by yourself.”
“He won’t do anything,” Luz said with more confidence than she felt. “Nothing to hurt me, at least. I don’t know what he needs, but I can’t… I have to at least…” she gestured uselessly with the pile of folded fabrics.
Somberness was not a word that was often associated with Eda. But the kiss she pressed to the crown of Luz’s head held an air of understanding so strong and reminiscent of Camila that it made Luz want to scream. The moment was fleeting, though, with Eda pulling back just to sweep King off her shoulders before he could squeak.
“Well then, if you’re sure, I’m going to get this little sucker to bed. It is way past your bedtime, your highness.”
“But Edaaaaaa,” King whined, “I want to go assert my dominance. I was gonna see if I could get him to be my personal guard.”
Eda snorted. “Uh-huh. Sure. I’m sure that’d work out great. Maybe in the morning, kid.” And they were off down the hall towards the older witch’s room, King half-heartedly complaining all the way. The young demon would probably be sleeping in the protection of her nest until further notice, for better or worse. Luz was honestly a bit surprised that Eda had allowed her to be alone with the (former?) Golden Guard. But a pair of glittering eyes staring in through the window from the darkness outside answered that question. Hooty was clearly being trusted as chaperone.
Luz made sure she stepped on the bottom stair as she descended, so that the creak would be heard from across the room. Her back felt cold without King hanging over it as she darted back into the kitchen to retrieve the mugs of finished tea. Back in the living room, Hunter had pushed himself into the small corner where the fireplace met the wall, his back to her and his head still down in his arms, with just one hand stroking the bird on his shoulder. At her arrival, Flapjack twittered sweetly, fluffing his wings.
“Hi, little rascal,” she murmured. It took a bit of maneuvering to sit down on the floor without spilling any tea or dropping her gifts, but she managed it with a soft “ oof ”. Flapjack hopped down to nose at the bundle, curiously sniffing the tea and tugging at the folded clothes.
And then… and then…
And then she could not find the words, her mouth having gone dry. Nothing but the rustling of feathers, and the uncertainty of silence.
Hunter surprised her first, though, by breaking it.
“Have you come to say ‘I told you so’?”
Instinctually, indignation shot through her, the urge to argue back rearing his head. But the shredded rasp of his voice broke her heart faster than the anger could take hold of her mouth.
Instead, she nudged the tea toward him. “I came, uh… to tell you I made you tea, even though you said you didn’t want it. I made it, just in case you change your mind. And I brought you a pillow, and blankets. And pajamas so that you don’t have to.. uhm, sleep. In that.”
Unable to look and see the rejection written in his prone form, she bowed her head, staring unseeing into her own mug.
“I don’t want them,” he rasped again, so close to a whisper. “I don’t want this.”
“I know,” Luz breathed. Her vision blurred. “I know.”
He shifted, and through the distorted gaze of her tears she glimpsed his hand reach out to brush against the curling leaves of his cup. Gloved fingers traced the carvings shakingly, almost reverently. “It wasn’t supposed to go like this.”
His voice broke on this last word, and so did Luz.
Clapping a hand to her mouth, she couldn’t stop the heavy tears from finally falling as she tried to shove her sobs back in her mouth. She’d learned to cry silently very well, but that did not stop her body from shaking with the force of it, or the feeling of something and everything being pushed from her throat in a cry she refused to voice. There was no one else in the room to buffer, no Eda there to coddle and console her. Just the unspoken, screaming magnitude of the truths discovered by two children who had no one but each other to tell.
Only a few feet from her, Hunter was silent as she cried. It grated on her, the way she kept waiting for his words to come fast and angry like they usually did. Instead, she was left to listen to every pathetic gasp and hiccup that slipped free. When red filled her vision, something soft and light suddenly brushed against her cheek, it was a relief. Flapjack, burrowing up onto her shoulder, his beak nipping softly at her tears. It was enough to distract her, animal lover instincts pulling her hands away from her face to stroke the little bird.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. Tears still ran freely down her face, eyes still fixed firmly on her lap. “I know it's not worth much. Anything. But I’m sorry.”
The words hung in that awful, awful silence. And then-
“I don’t know how to make him want me back this time.”
Luz’s neck popped with how fast she looked up at Hunter. Bright magenta eyes stared wide and hallowed into his cup, fingers still shakily tracing its carvings. “I don’t think that I can.”
“You don’t have to. You can stay-”
“I’m not a witch. Or a human. I’m not a person, I’m a thing . I can’t just stay -”
“Yes you can,” Luz whispered fiercely. “You’re a person. A big, dumb, annoying person. You can stay.”
His mouth went thin and hard, a hand going to clutch at his heaving chest and fuck, she didn’t know what to do if he started full blown panicking again. Thinking quickly, she pulled Flapjack from her shoulder and held him out to Hunter.
“A thing wouldn’t be able to bond with a palisman like you have. Only people can do that.” Scrambling forward, she batted his hand away and put her palm to his chest, right where his heart was jackrabbiting. “I can feel your heartbeat. Only people have heartbeats.”
“There's like, seven species of trees that have heartbeats-”
“That doesn’t matter-”
“Yes it does-”
“No-”
“Then why was he so quick to get rid of me?” He hissed. “If I’m such a person ?”
Flapjack tittered unhappily, hopping down between them.
When Hunter spoke, his voice was like venom. “I was so good . I did everything he asked. I took every punishment. I did every single thing by the book, I-” He looked down at Flapjack, faltering. “I didn’t mean to betray him.”
“You didn’t. He betrayed you. He-”
“He’s all I have.” All that flame in his voice was gone as quickly as it had come, defeat taking its place. His head thunked back against the wall. “The coven is all I had.”
She nudged the pile of blankets and pajamas with her toe. “It doesn’t have to be.”
He looked at the pile as if just seeing it for the first time, brow furrowed. By the time his gaze turned to the tea and hardened, Luz was sure it must have been lukewarm. But he stubbornly lifted it to his mouth and sipped anyway. Her’s was nearly cold as she did the same.
Just as quickly as he’d put it to his mouth, he set the mug down again, and then he was grabbing the pillow and blankets to jam into his little corner. “I can’t stay here after tonight.” He placed the teacup next to the pillow. He did not touch the pajamas. It felt like all the other times they’d met. Slamming up all his walls as soon as he let slip any hint of what he was thinking. The routine was familiar, and maybe there was a little bit of comfort in that familiar. Even if it wasn’t very helpful.
“You can if you’d like. Eda has been on the run from the coven for years. She’s powerful enough to us all.” Eda was hardly powerful enough to keep the wards up some days. But she was still as stubborn and crafty as ever, and Luz had no doubt that Eda had some plan to keep them all safe from the Emperor’s wrath. There was no safer place than the Owl Lady’s side.
“No.”
“No?”
He grabbed the blankets to make a nest for himself, hauling them over his shoulder and leaning against the wall. “It’s not safe. For anyone.”
“But Eda-”
“I don’t care. I don’t want pity. I don’t want protection, I just want- I want to-” he gestured vaguely before sighing in frustration.
Panic shot through Luz. “You’re not thinking of going back, are you?”
His eyes looked wet again, and she honestly couldn’t tell if it was from the candlelight or possible tears. “Of course not! Didn’t you see how he tried to…” he sniffled, rubbed his hands over his face. Tears, then. “I want to. I want to go back to this afternoon when everything made sense.”
Flapjack hopped up the mound of blankets to titter in his witch’s face. Maybe karma was real, Luz thought. An evil dictator for an uncle, no family, no friends, no magic, but the most caring palisman in the world. Maybe the universe had dealt him such a shitty hand just to give him the rarest card of all. Ghost, Clover, and Emiline were all exemplary palismen, but Flapjack radiated an intelligence and sense of loyalty so deep it felt palpable.
If Hunter left in the morning, it might just break her heart. It might just make the guilt swallow her whole, if she ruined his life just to leave him stranded and alone. But if he really wanted to go, they wouldn’t be able to stop him. Not for long. He was too fast, too strong, and with a night to clear his head and gather his thoughts he would only be more formidable. But where he went, his palisman was sure to follow. It didn’t fix a titan-damned thing, but something in her settled just a bit at the thought he wouldn’t truly be alone, no matter his choice.
“You really want to leave in the morning, huh?”
He nodded stubbornly, preoccupied with smoothing down ruffled red feathers. Luz scooted to lean against the wall beside him, just a few feet away. Letting her head fall back against the wall, she looked out at the small strip of sky visible from the window. Inky blues scattered with stars, winking down with indifference to it all. She’d never really been a religious person, despite her grandparent’s efforts, but a little bit of divine intervention didn’t sound too bad right about now.
“What are you doing?” Hunter asked.
“Waiting for morning. To see you off.”
The blankets shifted. “All night?”
“I won’t be able to sleep tonight, anyways.” She tilted just a bit to look at him, voice going quiet. “And I’d really rather not be alone for it.”
Of course, King would sleep with her. Or Eda would open her nest to them both, on a night like this. But Luz didn’t really want the comfort, or the platitudes. She wanted the cold, uncaring night and the only other person who shared her secrets. She just hoped he wanted that, too.
Either he did, or he was just too tired to care, because he reached for his own cup of tea and settled beside her. And their vigil began.
Eventually, one of them had to break the silence. What felt like hours after they’d finished their tea, and the moon had crawled high, Hunter whispered.
“What was it really like? In the human realm?”
Ah. Now there was a whole other, different kind of pain. Mama and blue skies and food that didn’t make her stomach sour.
“There's no magic. Nobody even thinks witches exist, they’re just folklore. And the world is made of dirt and earth and stone, not some long dead god thing.”
“There’s no Titan?”
Luz shook her head. “The Human Earth is a sphere, made of layers and layers of rock.”
“That's… really weird.”
“How do you think I felt when I first got here?” She huffed.
They continued on like that, Hunter asking simple questions and her answering. He wanted to know about the people, the food, and physics (which she knew embarrassingly little about) and the most inane factoids she’d ever heard.
“You speak multiple languages?”
“Just English and Spanish. Mi mamá me enseñó a hablar ambos.”
“Whoa. I only know how to read a little bit in a couple demon languages.”
When his questions slowed, she asked her own.
“What was it like in the Emperor’s coven?”
Early mornings and late nights. A job, a destiny decided when he was young. Patrols and patrols and patrols and so many long, stupid, stupid patrols.
“After about 3 A.M., none of the guards are really paying attention anymore. Half of them are dozing on their feet.”
“Still, the Emperor's right hand man? You must get to do some more interesting stuff than that.”
The fragile lightheartedness they’d created shifted. “Sure. Capturing palismen. Chasing runaway witches and their pet humans. Hurting the Isle I took a vow to protect.”
Luz couldn’t keep the crack out of her voice. “You didn’t know.”
“Doesn’t mean it wasn’t stupid.”
Half of her dreaded the thought of ever seeing Belos again. The other half wanted to wait until 3 A.M., sneak past the guards, and wring the man’s neck.
“I used to think if I could just… be better, that he would want me. That I just needed to work harder, prove I could be-” he cut himself off, sighing. “But now I wonder if it ever would have been enough. I wonder if he ever meant to keep me at all. Even if I hadn’t seen, if I hadn’t learned the truth, how much would that have really changed things?”
“It would have changed everything,” Luz breathed. “You’re still here.”
Hunter was silent, almost perfectly still if not for the slight rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathed. Finally, to the dark, he said, “I’m not sure I should be.”
Luz squeezed her eyes shut. One, two, three, four- one, two, three-
“Yes. You should.”
He didn’t respond.
When dawn finally inched her way into the sky, her rosy hues snaking like watercolor through the deep blacks and blues of night, both the moon and sun bore witness to the pair of teenagers slumped in fitful sleep against the wall. The night had swallowed their whispers until their voices grew hoarse, and their minds too exhausted to fight their bodies. And in that early light, for just a few short hours, the only evidence of the tragic night before were the dark smudges beneath their closed eyes, and the pair of empty mugs between them.