Chapter 459: The Price

“It’s safe,” Aylin insisted, holding a half-eaten loaf of bread out. “I already ate some and I’m still alive.”

The group of demons crouched in the room stared at him with a mixture of disbelief, hope, and suspicion. Their stomachs were flat and clothes ragged. The room smelled musty and damp, but the scent did nothing to mute the cries of their stomachs. Dim red light filtered through the cracks in the low ceiling above them, washing over Aylin and his pile of food in rippling waves.

“I know you think that,” Violet said. She scratched at the horn protruding from the center of her forehead and worked her jaw. “But the Damned Plains don’t work like that. Nobody gives free food.”

“Any price is mine alone,” Aylin insisted. He took another bite out of the bread and the other children flinched back. They stared as he chewed and swallowed, opening his mouth to show there was nothing left. “See? I’m alive.”

“What if eating the food enslaves you?” Torick asked. The boy was so thin that he might as well have been a dust-colored stick. All of them were, to some degree or another. Aylin and Violet were the ones that had gathered the most supplies in recent times, but they’d been spread too thin for too long.

There just wasn’t enough to go around, and they weren’t strong enough to wrest nearly enough from the others that lived in the streets. Aylin’s hands clenched as bitter anger swirled through his stomach. Unlike the food, it did nothing to fill him.

He couldn’t even hold anything against the other gangs. Not everyone could live. If they were stronger, they wouldn’t be sharing either. Sharing was mercy, mercy was for the strong, and they’d already taken out loans on that they couldn’t afford to repay.

“Does it matter what it does?” Aylin demanded. He thrust a finger into Torick’s bony chest. “You’re a breath from dead. How are we supposed to get strong if we can’t even get out of bed?”

“You can. Violet can,” Torick insisted.

“Look at yourself!” Aylin said. He clenched his jaw and shook his head. “Forget that. Look at me. Look at Violet. She’s seventeen, but she looks five years younger than that. I’m no better. Do you really think any of us are getting out of here if we don’t take what opportunities we can?”

“This isn’t an opportunity,” Violet snapped, but Aylin caught her glancing down at herself before she spoke. “It’s a death trap. You’re desperate and starved. If you want to die, do it. Don’t bring us into it.”

“Maybe we could trade the food to other gangs?” Torick asked hesitantly.

“No,” Aylin and Violet said at the same time, causing the boy to flinch back.

“If we show others, they’ll just take it from us,” Aylin said. He took another bite of the bread. At this point, he was beyond the point of caring. Any damage it would do was already done. “We aren’t kids anymore, Violet.”

“You’re telling me to give up? Is that it?” Violet stepped forward and pressed her forehead to Aylin’s, her lips pulling back in a snarl. Her horn forced Aylin to take a step back to avoid getting stabbed. “Coward.”

“I’m not being a coward,” Aylin hissed. “You are. You’re too scared to do what we have to. I’m not a wizard. Miracles don’t materialize. We can’t do anything when we’re starved. I’m trying to help us.” He grabbed Violet’s shoulders and shoved her back. She stumbled, nearly tripping over her own feet. Aylin stepped after her. “You were stronger than me a month ago. The energy the food gives us is what we need to make something of ourselves. This isn’t just a meal. It's an opportunity.”

“An opportunity to lose who we are. There’s no way that food is safe,” Violet said with a firm shake of her head. “You’re just going to—”

“It’s good.”

They both spun. Edda, the youngest of their group gnawed on a piece of bread and looked up at them with large, watery eyes. She held the loaf out. “Sorry. I got hungry.”

“Shit,” Violet groaned, throwing her hands up into the air and slumping down to wrap her arms around her knees. “Damn it. Aylin, you idiot. You’ve taken her with you. I thought you were smarter than this. You’ve doomed us.”

“She’s fine,” Aylin snapped. “And nobody is doing anything if they starve to death. We used to have more than four of us. Bravery didn’t make any of us less hungry. It didn’t keep anyone alive. Do you think Cole—”

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A loud bang on the stone door behind them echoed out. Aylin and Violet both spun as it flew open. A square-faced demon ducked into the room, two black horns curling out from just above his ears. His body rippled with muscles and he had to scrunch down to fit into the small room. It did nothing to make him any less intimidating. Aylin’s heart dropped into his stomach. He’d been so focused on their argument that he hadn’t listened to the sounds of the street until it was too late.

Yog. He’s in Golon’s gang.

“One of my boys mentioned you’d had a good haul,” the demon said, his lips pulling apart in a cold smile. “I hope you weren’t planning on keeping that all to yourselves. You know the rule on food you bring in when you’re staying in Golon’s territory.”

Violet sent a flat, furious glare at Aylin’s back and it took every ounce of willpower he had not to wither under her gaze.

“You can have it,” Violet said. “Just take all of it.”

“No,” Aylin said. He set his jaw and stared up at Yog. “We’re not under Golon’s protection and I didn’t pass through his streets. We don’t owe anything.”

“Aylin,” Violet hissed. “Just give him the damn food! Are you that determined to send us to an early grave?”

“I’m not giving shit,” Aylin said. He flexed his hands and swallowed. “This is ours. We aren’t sharing it. Golon hasn’t given us anything.”

“He’s given you your lives,” Yog said. “And he lets you stay in this house — but I don’t mind just taking what you owe. It’s more fun than the alternative. Are all of you little ditzes going to try this, or is it just the single idiot?”

Torick tensed. He looked from Violet to Aylin, trying to figure out who to side with. Then his hands clenched and he took a step closer to Aylin. Violet let out a curse and moved to stand with them.

“I’m going to beat the shit out of you after Yog is done with us,” Violet muttered under her breath as she lowered into a fighting stance.

Yog started toward them — but he only made it a step. A sound split the air, one foreign to everyone other than Aylin. Yog was larger and stronger, but he still lived on the streets. The demon stiffened and froze as a haunting tune echoed down the alleys.

“What in the Plains is that?” Violet asked.

“It’s him,” Aylin muttered, the blood running out of his face.

“Who?” Torick asked. His eyes flicked from Aylin to Yog.

“The demon that gave me the food. He followed me back.”

“I fucking told you,” Violet snarled. “We need to get out of here. Yog, get out of our way. You can have the damn food if you want it.”

Aylin hesitated. He’d paid the price. He wasn’t giving up the prize. If the demon had shown up to collect on its debts, then it would be collecting them after they’d eaten. He took another bite out of his loaf.

Then the song stopped.

Yog glanced over his shoulder. Then he chuckled and shook his head. “Good acting, but that’s not going to work. I don’t know what that was, but it wasn’t near us. If you lot just joined up, you could make something of yourselves. Just remember that this is your choice.”

“It’s interesting that you bring up choice,” a voice said from behind Yog. The large demon spun, nearly knocking his head against the ceiling in his haste.

“Is our house a watering hole or something?” Violet muttered, anxiety twisting her features as she shifted from foot to foot. “Why is everyone showing up out of nowhere?”

“Show yourself,” Yog growled.

Aylin knew who it was before he stepped through the doorway. It was the demon from before, his face still covered in storm wrappings. He didn’t have the strange object that had made the hauntingly beautiful noise anymore.

“There wouldn’t be much speaking if I didn’t plan to show up, would there?” the demon asked.

“Who are you?” Yog demanded. He flexed his fingers and the dark claws at their tips lengthened an inch. “This is Golon’s territory.”

“Colon?” the demon tilted his head to the side. He made no move to answer Yog’s question. “Unfortunate name. No matter. I assume he controls this area? That works. Take me to him. I need to borrow his people.”

Borrow his people? What does that mean?

“You can request an audience with him. I’ll escort you back,” Yog said, his lips pulling back to bare his pointed teeth. “Right after I finish here.”

That meeting definitely isn’t going to go well for him. Golon will kill anyone that starts getting strong enough to pose him a threat.

“No need for that,” the demon said. “I don’t like to be kept waiting. I’m rather impatient.”

Yog’s back tensed. Anger rippled through his muscles. Then his neck ground down in a nod. His right hand twitched. “Ah. Of course. I’ll follow you right out, then. I’d hate to keep someone like you waiting.”

“Splendid. Thank you.”

The demon turned and Aylin’s eyes went wide. That had been the most obvious bait that he’d ever heard. Turning your back on a prepared enemy was literally asking to get ripped open.

His mouth opened to call out a warning, but Yog was faster. The demon blurred forward, lunging for the back of the stranger’s neck. A brilliant crack split the air, followed by a sudden flash of light.

Aylin squeezed his eyes shut and let out a surprised cry. His vision returned an instant later. Yog’s pitched back, a weeping hole where his head and shoulders had been. Arcs of energy danced across the dead demon, his body scorched and burnt black all the way down to his legs.

The breath in Aylin’s chest felt like it had frozen solid.

Semi-external magic. Aylin hadn’t seen it, but the stranger must have punched Yog and released a burst of power through their brief contact. That meant he was a Rank 3 at the minimum — he could have been higher, but there was no way a Rank 4 demon ever would have bothered showing themselves in the slums of Treadon. Goosebumps wrapped down his spine, and he took an involuntary step back as the demon’s gaze moved from Yog’s corpse to him.

“Do you know who Golon is?” the stranger asked.

“I — yes,” Aylin stammered, convinced that if his answer had been anything but affirmative, he would have joined Yog in the afterlife. “I do.”

“Good. Finish your meal,” the stranger said, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms. “Then take me to him.”

Oh.

I’m going to die.