Chapter 45: A Couple Of Meals

The knights had taken our room in the church, so Olivander and I had been moved into the attic. Tillshade didn’t have an inn exactly, certainly not one large enough for all of them, so the church had been forced to accommodate everyone.

I preferred the attic. It felt much more private, and the knights didn’t have any reason to come up here.

From the window, I could see almost the entire square. Knights were scattered from one end to the other, standing outside the church, wandering between buildings, or gathering anywhere they could find space.

After the incident, Norman had spoken with the princess and made it clear that no knight could enter the forest without an escort. With the forest closed to them, all those knights had nowhere to go except the same few streets and buildings.

Technically, I wasn’t allowed in the forest either. I was still grounded.

That was why I had been spending as much time as possible in the attic. Not to avoid the knights, though that was a nice benefit. I wanted everyone to expect that whenever I disappeared, I was up here.

Then, when I actually needed to sneak out and visit Arbolive, they would assume I was here.

Not to brag, but I’m pretty smart.

I wasn’t simply staring out the window, either. Both of me were following Raven’s instructions.

Moving my bodies separately felt like spinning one arm forward while spinning the other backward. I could do it, but the moment I relaxed, one of them started copying the other. A small part of my attention always had to remain focused on keeping my two selves separate instead of on what either of us was actually doing.

Raven nudged Lucarion’s back foot farther outward with the toe of his boot.

Olive’s foot moved across the attic floor a moment later.

“Your balance is too far forward,” he said.

He pressed two fingers against Lucarion’s shoulder. I immediately tipped sideways and had to catch myself.

Olivander shifted beneath his blankets but didn’t wake.

“It is important to move from one stance to another without hesitation,” Raven continued. “A stance is not somewhere you stop. It is somewhere you can move from.”

He stepped back and raised his sword.

I had not been idle since the incident with the knight. I had gone over it again and again, especially how slowly everything had seemed to move.

That wasn’t how frightening moments normally felt. Getting caught by the Guttervine, running from demons, fighting the Vulpiquills, all of those had happened too fast. There had been no time to understand what was happening until it was already over.

But the knight had moved slowly.

Eric had moved slowly.

Even when I kicked the knight during our second encounter, I had felt myself floating down, even though the fall still hurt.

At first, I thought the knight had done something to us, but there was no reason for him to make himself slower. Besides, it hadn’t only affected him.

Nobody had actually slowed down.

I had been thinking faster.

Once I understood that, I started practicing. I discovered that if I stopped paying attention through Olive, I could use that part of my awareness to focus entirely on what Lucarion was seeing.

I let the attic fade.

Olivander’s snoring disappeared. The floor beneath Olive’s feet became distant. Even the night air against her skin slipped beyond my attention.

Both parts of me focused through Lucarion.

Raven moved.

He wasn’t demonstrating slowly, but I could follow every part of him as if he were. His back foot slid across the floor while the other turned. His weight shifted between them, followed by his hips and shoulders, carrying the blade into a position from which he could strike.

Then he moved into the next stance.

Instead of advancing, he lowered his weight, turned aside, and brought his sword around as if redirecting an attack. Each movement led naturally into the next, with no pause between them.

Raven lowered his sword.

I allowed Olive to perceive again.

The attic rushed back into focus. The chill beneath my feet, the moonlight through the skylight, and Olivander’s snoring all returned at once.

“Every stance must allow you to bear weight, strike, retreat, or dodge,” Raven said. “The most important part of any fight is keeping your options open.”

The next few days settled into the same pattern. It was strange. I learned a lot, but almost none of it involved the forest or its inhabitants, which was what I normally studied.

Instead, I practiced stances with Raven. I stretched. I practiced expressions and etiquette with Ezkyrath. Emma even started teaching me theology.

Most of my questions were about demons, though we usually ended up talking about something else.

***

Today was the big day.

Ezkyrath had arranged a meeting between Belgorath and me, and she was going over the plan one final time.

She stood directly in front of Lucarion, running her fingers through my hair and smoothing it into place.

“The only thing you need to worry about is making sure he likes you without promising him anything.”

The room was empty, so she had taken her girl form again.

With her standing so close, I couldn’t help staring.

She looked different.

Her skin was still black as ink, but the violet and red runes that usually drifted across it had collapsed into tiny points of white. They sparkled across her face, neck, and hands.

Through Olive’s eyes, I looked up through the attic skylight.

The moon had faded to a thin, nearly invisible curve, leaving the rest of the sky dark. Stars filled the empty space, bright little lights scattered across the blackness.

Ezkyrath looked just like it.

The night sky shaped into a girl.

“If he begins telling you what decisions you should make as Demon Lord,” she continued, “thank him and tell him you will keep his advice in mind.”

I nodded with Lucarion to show I understood. I kept my face as impassive as I could, hoping it concealed how nervous I felt.

As Olive, I remained cross-legged on the bed, meditating beneath the skylight while Olivander snored beside me.

Ezkyrath finished arranging Lucarion’s hair and stepped away. Her girl-shaped body loosened, its edges flowing downward until she returned to the inky form she wore around everyone else. Her voice changed with it, becoming a multitude speaking together.

We made our way to Belgorath’s dining room.

It was another impressive chamber. Polished stone. Carved pillars. Gems worked into the walls. A table long enough to seat a dozen people or more.

Honestly, when every room looked noble, it started becoming boring.

Yes, I understood. Everything was expensive. Everything was well made. They had more gemstones than they knew what to do with.

Ugh. I missed plants.

Through Olive’s eyes, I lowered my gaze from the skylight and looked toward the window.

The baby Guttervine rested in a large glass jar on the windowsill. He floated quietly beneath the water, his tiny vines folded around himself as he slept.

Beyond him was the forest.

I could still see plants, I reminded myself. There were trees in every direction around Olive, but Lucarion still could not.

Suddenly, I felt like his world had shrunk.

The doors opened.

Belgorath entered, and I immediately remembered how enormous he was.

His burnt-orange skin darkened around his shoulders and chest with ember-like undertones. Muscles shifted beneath it with every step. He crossed the room and offered me one hand.

His palm nearly swallowed mine.

I braced myself when he closed his fingers around it, but his grip was firm without hurting.

“My Lord,” he said.

“General Belgorath, a pleasure to see you in an informal setting.”

Ezkyrath had made me practice that greeting at least twenty times. She said I could determine how formal a meeting was since I was the highest-ranking person. I just had to say it.

I had expected to feel nervous once we sat down. Instead, part of me remained in the attic with my brother sleeping beside me. The sound of his snoring made Belgorath and the enormous dining room feel much farther away.

Strange demons carried dishes into the room and placed them on a smaller table nearby. Ezkyrath collected each plate and brought it to us herself.

Not a single dish had meat or anything resembling it.

None of the demons spoke.

They were clearly doing that for my benefit.

Even the giant furnace demon appeared, carrying a steaming metal tray between its massive hands. I thought it might apologize for how it had treated me before, but it placed the tray down and left without saying a word.

The beginning of the meal was awkward.

Belgorath asked whether my “accommodations were suitable,” which meant whether my room was any good.

“They are sufficient,” I answered.

That was one of Ezkyrath’s preapproved responses. Apparently, a ruler had to leave room for improvement. Always.

We ate quietly before he asked whether the food was to my liking.

“It is very well prepared.”

Another approved response.

Then he glanced toward the dishes.

“May I ask what caused you to stop eating meat?”

“It’s not that I don’t eat meat,” I said. “I don’t believe in eating an animal I didn’t hunt myself.”

Belgorath’s heavy brow rose.

“So you are willing to eat meat.”

“Yes.”

His posture changed immediately. He leaned forward, placing both forearms against the table.

He began telling me which dishes he could make depending on the animal. He even began telling me about animals they no longer had access to from their previous home, Eclipsera, and which animals he believed were worth hunting personally and which were not.

I didn’t recognize their names, but Belgorath seemed capable of describing every creature they used to hunt.

He told me which creatures charged and which fled. With a little prompting, he told me about their biology, their breeding patterns, how they lived, and how they formed families.

We talked about the plants they ate, their ecosystems, and their habitats.

I started explaining my own thrill of moving among animals, especially the dangerous ones.

Belgorath slapped one broad hand against the table. The plates jumped.

“Exactly!”

Ezkyrath caught my cup before it tipped over. Belgorath didn’t seem to notice.

Before long, I had forgotten to use any of Ezkyrath’s prepared responses.

I reached for another bite and paused as Olive’s stomach growled.

These weren’t the dishes we had started with.

Through Olive’s eyes, sunlight streamed through the skylight. Olivander’s bed was empty.

We had been talking for hours. I was halfway through my second meal, while Olive hadn’t even had her first.