Joan crossed her legs and kept her head down, trying to make herself seem as small as possible. As much as she hated to admit it, she actually was both afraid and scared.
Dixon paced back and forth in the tent in front of her, a look of annoyance on his face. He wasnât wearing his armor now, instead just wearing a robe made of some kind of leathery fabric she couldnât identify. Oddly, being out of his armor made him seem more intimidating.
Joan had expected to be thrown back into the cage, maybe yelled at a bit. Probably beaten. This was somehow worse. She felt almost like a bratty child who had disappointed her parents and was now awaiting punishment.
Except her âparentsâ in this case were demons who intended to have her tributed and her âbratty behaviorâ was trying to escape and maiming one of them. The last she had seen of Viglan was him clutching his bloody face and disappearing into a tent while Andreas dragged her to the tent Dixon had been sleeping in.
She glanced over to the corner of the tent, where his armor and weapon were resting on a display. He hadnât even touched them, though he had likely been awake ever since the escape attempt had started.
How long was he going to pace? She squirmed nervously in the chair before glancing back at Andreas. He looked tired, his arms crossed but not touching her.
Joan didnât have any more ropes or shadowbinds on her, she could get up. She could run. She could even fight if she wanted. Yet every instinct she had told her that would be a bad idea, if not suicide. Instead she just kept her eyes down and waited for whatever storm was building to break.
Finally, Dixon stopped and gave an exasperated sigh. âYouâre a smart kid,â he said in a soft, soothing tone.
âThank you, sir,â Joan said despite herself, her cheeks burning red at how quickly she said it.
âRunning like that, though. It wasnât very smart at all. Bad enough you ran, but to make such a mess of it,â Dixon said, shaking his head as if he was disappointed in her.
âI didnât make the noise, that was Gerard,â Joan said instinctively.
âOh, of course,â Dixon said. âIt wasnât you, now was it kid?â The demon then walked to her and knelt down, smiling up at her. âYou would have been quiet about it, wouldnât you?â
Joan couldnât help but shudder at that smile. It reminded her of the Demon Lordâs. Gentle, mischievous, almost friendly. But hiding an overpowering wave of cruelty. âNo. I mean, yes, I would have.â
âBut you were the one who got them out, werenât you?â Dixon asked.
âYes, sir,â Joan said gently, her voice very low and wilting under his gaze.
âYouâre going to try again if another opportunity comes up, arenât you?â Dixon asked.
Joan didnât answer, merely lowering her eyes to her knees and keeping her mouth shut. She wanted to say no, but lying to him just felt like a bad idea.
âI asked you a question. If you make me repeat myself, Iâm going to pluck out one of those pretty little eyes of yours, Joan,â Dixon said in a soft, soothing tone that didnât match the viciousness of the comment at all.
âYes,â Joan said softly. There was no doubt in her mind that he would do it if she pushed him. Sheâd certainly seen demons do worse.
âSee, was that so hard? I ask a question, you answer.â His hand reached up and she gave a little whimper, but all he did was ruffle her hair. âIâm not even mad, you know.â
âYouâre not?â Joan asked.
âOh, of course not. It cost Viglan an eye, but what he learned from this is very, very important,â Dixon said, his hand still ruffling her hair. âDonât underestimate prisoners. Certainly keep a better eye on your weapons. But, most importantly of all? Do you know what he learned?â
âNo,â Joan said, so soft even she could barely hear it.
âIf someone says itâs their sword, believe them,â Dixon said before pulling his hand back. âSo then. I think weâve been asking the wrong questions, kid. Wondering who else was out here, who did that fancy sword really belong to. Andreas?â
âSir?â Andreas asked.
Dixon motioned to her. âGo on, give her back her sword. It is yours, isnât it Joan?â
Joan jumped a little when her sword was placed on her lap, sheathed once more. She stared down at it for a moment and felt some of her confidence returning.
âThe question we should have been asking is what did a kid like you do to earn a fancy sword like this?â Dixon asked. âWhy is it that a kid like you knows how to deal with a rampager?â He leaned in very close, his eyes staring into hers. âWhy is it that your face looks so bruised and broken that Iâm amazed you can even see me, yet youâre not even whimpering when I pat your head? No, youâre not just a little kid, are you?â
Joan gulped and shook her head. âNot really, sir. It doesnât really hurt, though.â Her face couldnât look that bad, could it?
Dixon cocked an eye before reaching up and pinching her cheek. âHuh. Iâll be damned. No, youâre just full of mysteries, arenât you? I wonder, if I plucked your eye out, would you feel that?â
Joan gave a soft whimper and shrunk down in the chair even more. âI donât know.â
âI see. What I think, more than anything, is that youâre going to be very useful. I think my brother is going to be very interested in finding out exactly who you are.â
âBrother?â Joan asked.
âOh? You donât know? Iâm surprised you havenât picked up on that. Smart kid like you probably listens to everything her captors say,â Dixon said with an amused grin. âMaybe my men are better at holding their tongues than I thought. He has many names and titles now, but the only one you might know is the Demon Lord.â
âThe Demon Lord doesnât have a brother,â Joan said before she could help herself, cringing a moment later and cursing herself for saying something like that.
Dixon, however, just looked amused. âNow that, little Joan, is quite the interesting response.â
Joan gulped and tried to lean back further, but the chair didnât allow it. âIt is?â
âOh, yes. You see, I get a lot of reactions from that. Most humans donât know who or what the Demon Lord is. Or theyâre scared, it is quite the impressive title. A few are horrified because they know exactly who he is. But you? You were confused. You werenât at all confused about who he is, but were confused that he had a brother. Now, Joan, do you know why that would be?â
Joan gulped nervously and gave a soft little whimper, scrunching up into the chair. Even with the sword in her lap, within easy reach, she couldnât have felt more vulnerable if she tried. âBecause I know about the Demon Lord.â
âBecause you know about the Demon Lord,â Dixon said in a soothing tone. âBut not just what the Demon Lord is. But who he is, donât you?â
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âYes sir,â Joan said, unable to keep her voice steady anymore.
âNow, why would a human know the Demon Lord personally? Have you seen him before?â Dixon asked.
âYes,â Joan said again, her heart pounding so hard it felt like it might explode in her chest.
âAre you a demon?â Dixon asked.
That made her go still and raise her gaze to look at him in bewilderment. âIâm sorry?â
âAre you a demon?â Dixon asked.
âNo? Iâm human,â Joan said.
âAre you sure?â Dixon asked.
âI donât have horns or anything, of course Iâm human,â Joan said.
âNot all demons have horns,â Dixon said. âSome of us just have the eyes, some have horns. Claws. Wings. Talons. Fangs. But some donât have anything at all. Some just have special little quirks. Are special. Talented. Tell me, Joan. Are you special?â
Joan gave a soft little whimper. âYes, Iâm talented. But Iâm not a demon.â
âPerhaps not,â Dixon said. âBut the future is unknown. Youâre quite the interesting child and I think my brother is going to want to have a very long, long talk with you.â
Joan gave a soft whimper and received another pat on the head.
Dixon reached down and grabbed the sword, lifting it out of her lap. âDonât you want your sword back? Go on, take it. Whatâs the worst that could happen?â
Joan shook her head.
âSee? The kid can learn, canât she?â Dixon asked. âCongratulations, kid. You wonât be being tributed. Youâll likely wish you had been, though. Still, we canât have you running away again.â He then got to his feet and looked down at her. âAndreas?â
âYes, sir?â Andreas asked.
âBreak her legs,â Dixon said.
âWhat?â Andreas asked, a confused look on his face.
âBreak her legs,â Dixon said again. âA nice, clean, simple break. Just so she canât run away again. They may want to put her to use later and we donât want to damage my brotherâs new gift too much, do we?â
Joan looked between the two of them, her eyes wide with alarm. Andreas wouldnât actually do it, would he?
âYou want me to break her legs? But sheâs just a--â
âA child?â Dixon asked. âWho has already broken out once, maimed one of my men and calmed down a rampager all by herself. Sheâs hardly âjustâ a child. But fine, if you wonât, I will.â The demon knelt down once more and his hand reached out towards her leg.
Joan shrieked and jumped out of the seat, trying to get away. To her surprise, he didnât grab her. She made it to the back of the tent and then paused. There really wasnât anywhere for her to go. She couldnât really cut through the fabric of the tent with her bare fingers and if she tried to crawl under it she doubted sheâd make it more than halfway through.
âSee?â Dixon said with a light laugh. âAlready sheâs scrambling away. Such a fast little thing. Like a little snake. Now now, Joan. Just be a good little girl or this will hurt a lot more.â
Joan turned back around and looked up at the two. Mercifully, Andreas looked incredibly uncomfortable about all of this. Dixon, unfortunately, looked amused. As if this was all just a little game to him.
No, to him it likely was a game. Joan pushed back against the edge of the tent when he advanced, looking around for some way to escape. But even though he wasnât really that large, when he advanced on her it seemed impossible to jump past him. She pushed back against the tent, hugging her knees to her chest and staring up into those cruel, golden eyes of his.
âPlease,â Joan begged, unable to stop the tears from starting to fall when he reached out to her.
âShhhh, itâll only hurt for a few days. Youâre special, arenât you?â Dixon asked in a mocking tone. He grabbed her right leg and she tried to pull away, gripping his wrist and trying to yank his hand off her.
âNo no no no no no!â Joan yelled, unable to keep the panic and fear out of her voice.
âBoss,â Andreas said.
Dixon paused and glanced back at him. âYes?â
âDonât. Iâll make sure she doesnât run off again,â Andreas said.
That made the demon give a light little laugh. âReally? You want to take responsibility over her? A little broken leg isnât that bad. Isnât that right, Joan?â Dixon asked before reaching out and lightly tapping her cheek.
Joan just gave a whimper and looked up at Andreas, pleading with him to save her. To not let this happen.
âIâll take responsibility,â Andreas said.
Dixon gave another laugh before standing back up and tossing the sword to Andreas. âGood then. Sheâs your problem. If she runs off, itâs your hide on the line. And donât let Viglan near her, I expect he wants bit of payback for what happened. I trust there wonât be any more trouble from her tonight?â
âThere wonât be,â Andreas said before walking to her, grabbing her shoulder, hefting her up to her feet and then all but dragging her out of the tent and into the cool night air.
âYou saved me,â Joan said softly.
âDonât overthink it,â Andreas said. âI shouldnât have.â
âBut you did,â Joan said, looking up at him.
âI just didnât want to watch some kid get their legs broken.â
âYou didnât betray me this time,â Joan said.
Andreas rolled his eyes and started dragging her back towards the cage. âKid, I never betrayed you. Despite your stories, I donât know you. Thereâs no âheroâ or any of that other nonsense to betray. Youâre still as in as much danger as you ever were.â
âButââ
âBut nothing,â Andreas said before glaring down at her. âYouâve done a lot of damage, kid. If youâre smart, youâll stay in the cage and not cause any more trouble. I saved your legs this time, but if you try and get out again youâll be lucky to just have broken legs. Iâll be lucky if youâre the only one who gets something broken.â
Joan sighed and shook her head. âYouâre not one of them, Andreas. Youâre not a demon. Youâre a hero, one of the chosen.â
âIâm really not,â Andreas said.
âYou really are,â Joan said.
The pair stopped outside the cage. She saw the other two were still in there, but Gerard was nowhere in sight. Perhaps heâd managed to get away at least. Though she still wanted to punch him for what heâd done. âDo you still think Iâll save you from all this?â Andreas asked.
Joan stared at the bars and thought back to the feeling of his shadowbinds grabbing and halting her. Finally she shook her head. âNo, not like this.â
âGood,â Andreas said before pulling out a key and opening the cage door. He lifted her up into the air and then tossed her into the cage, the wagon jumping a bit when she landed, causing her to stumble forward before falling on her knees.
Joan turned and scrambled back towards the door, but he closed it before she could get close. She stared out of it at him for a few moments before speaking up. âI donât think youâll save me from this. But I know you will help save the world.â
Andreas paused and looked up at her. âWhy?â
âBecause I know you,â Joan said softly before leaning her head against the bars. âYou never betrayed me. When everyone else fell for the Demon Lordâs tricks, you stayed by my side. You fought until your very death. You didnât want to be the Chosen of the Spear, but you did it anyway. You didnât want parades or wealth or celebrations. You just wanted everything to be over and done with so you could leave it all. You wanted to mourn what was lost, but you didnât want there to be any more suffering.â
Andreas shook his head. âYou really put too much faith in me.â
âNot putting enough faith in the chosen was one of my greatest faults,â Joan said. âIâm really trying to work through it.â
Andreas gave a light laugh. âOh? So going from not believing in them to believing in them regardless of what they do?â
Joan nodded. âIf I canât trust you seven, who can I trust?â
âMaybe find another hero, kid,â Andreas said before turning to walk away.
Joan watched him for a moment before sighing and closing her eyes, resting her head against the bars of the cage.
Heâd saved her from having her legs broken. He wasnât entirely gone. She just had to show him, bit by bit.
That and wait for the next opportunity to escape. She couldnât believe he was going to just leave her in the cage, though. Sheâd already gotten out once, wasnât he worried sheâd do it again?
Those thoughts left her when she saw Andreas walking back towards the cage again, a long length of rope wrapped up and resting over his shoulder. âOh,â Joan said softly.
Still, sheâd figure something out eventually. She always did.