12: Advice

I nestled into warm silk and plush cushions, revealing in something soft and comfortable, my first such experience in what felt like forever. When my back hit the mattress Prince Chiro stood, stepping around Shail's clubbed tail. The crag cat's head rose to watch him as he paced onto a small balcony. The space looked big enough for just a person or two, and did not, I noticed as I yanked off my boots and the breeze touched my ankles, have a door. The open air breathed life into the delicate cloth surrounding the bed's banisters. I sat up, pulled the fabric in one hand and took a better look at the grey-eyed prince.

"I have better things to be doing," he said shortly, gazing out into the hazy twilight. "If you want to have a bath I'll come back in the morning."

"No," I groaned, sliding my feet onto the cool stone. I removed the bracers from my arms. "It's fine. Pass along the King's advice. I'd rather be lounging in a hot bath with more information than less. Makes it more relaxing."

"Does it?" he asked, pressing his back into dark stone. Absent a cloak, he was still wearing his travel clothes from earlier, though they were a lot dustier now. Probably wanted a chance to sit down and relax, same as I did, and here he was on command waiting for me to waltz in a day late.

I tucked the semi-transparent cloth around one banister, and laid back onto the soft mattress, propped this time on my elbows. "I used to enjoy a nice shower after I finished studying. It was a lot nicer than showering and worrying about studying into the wee hours of the night."

"Alright," he said, fiddling with a sleeve cuff. He didn't come back inside.

"Need to get away from the human stink?" I asked, tilting my head and giving him an innocuous grin.

His nose wrinkled. "You're disgusting," he said, nodding at my attire.

I glanced down at the bloody chemise, lifted the fabric off my chest a little.  It peeled from my body. Blood flaked off my collarbone. "Yeah, well, I ran into the spiders of my nightmares. Thanks for warning me about them."

"You aren't my responsibility."

I rubbed my chin. "You told me about Shail. I thought maybe you wanted me alive."

His eyes flashed like a cat's as the light slipped away from the sky. "It's called being nice. I don't want anything from you."

"I'm fine, by the way," I continued. "Thanks for asking. Some peddler gave me a potion or something. I didn't know this place was basically a video game."

"What?"

"Never mind,"  I said quickly. Apparently these weren't the sort of omniscient demons who knew everything and possessed unwilling hosts to bring hell on earth. That put my mind at ease in an odd way; Chiro might've been more human than he wanted to admit.

Did not having a superior mental inventory make a demon more or less dangerous? I wasn't sure, but I knew I'd rather be dealing with one like him than one that knew all my thoughts and deepest desires, like how I had more crushes on fictional men than any real ones around me.

"You guys have drinks that can heal people," I continued. "Where do I get more of those?"

His brow furrowed. He leaned into the balcony's frame and folded his arms across his chest. "We don't," he said slowly. "We heal fast."

My fingers traced the crackled blood around my throat. "I think you do. A spider ripped my neck open. The Mississippi river was flowing out my veins. This peddler stopped and—"

"Didn't your mother teach you not to take candy from strangers?"

I snapped my fingers. "So you do know a few more modern expressions! Maybe you aren't as behind the times as I was figuring."

"People from different times live in the Mid. I learn things here and there." He shrugged. "Stay away from peddlers. They aren't to be trusted."

"Why not? They healed me."

The Prince frowned. In the night his tan skin took on a purplish hue. "They work for for the Marrow Witch." He crossed his heart. I wasn't exactly sure how much I believed that would help, but his eyes never left mine until I repeated the gesture.

"So what?"

"So it didn't heal you."

My fingertips mapped the length of unscarred neck. "This feels pretty—"

Chiro crossed the room, grabbed my hand in his and flipped my palm over. Before my eyes his hand shifted into something covered in fine sandy fur, still humanoid, but with thicker knuckles and feline claws.

"Watch," he growled. A black nail hooked deep into the flesh of my arm. Pain shot up through my elbow.

"What the hell!" I gasped and slapped him. Blood dripped down my wrist and onto the sheets. Ignoring me, the Prince ran the pad of his thumb over the slash. Beneath the smeared blood was only a fine scab and that too flaked off.

He flexed his fingers, and the monstrous paw became a human hand again. "You can't heal from everything, but a lot of scrapes, bruises, burns... Those are all covered."

"Like under a spiritual protection plan? Why is that?" I asked, rubbing my arm. I wasn't a glutton for punishment, but the curious part of me wanted him to do it again, to prove what I'd just seen had really happened. And the other part wanted to smack him, because that information would've been mighty useful when I thought I was dying back in the Malumbrian Oaks.

"Demons have been violent for centuries. We evolved."

"Demons can't evolve."

He snorted. "You're here because we want to breed, Tay Wilson. Of course our offspring can change. You're a halfbreed yourself."

Unsure what to do with the mess, I wiped my arm on the already filthy chemise. "If you're taking human wives then doesn't that make all demons half-breeds?"

"No," he said simply. "Your father had sex with a woman outside the Mid. Your mother was truly alive."

My father. That word had been tossed around a few times since I'd arrived, and I was no closer to learning anything about him. "Who is he?"

Chiro stepped back toward the window, but not without giving me the wonderful visual of licking my blood off his palm. "I'm not here to answer every question that pops into your little head."

"That's not what the King seems to think," I added. On a more curious note, I joined him in the balcony's fresh air. The perfume of exotic flowers drifted up through the quiet. "Do you have any kids?" I asked him.

Shadows darkened his frown. "I don't Hunt."

I wasn't about to let him avoid a direct answer. I was in the mood to sink into my hot bath equipped with knowledge of something, one way or another. "From the looks of it, there's still plenty of booty around here, and you're high on the totem pole. You must be one eligible bachelor," I observed.

He grunted.

"So you don't have a paternal clock ticking down? No need to chase desire?"

"Well I do chase," he purred in a silky tone that made me shiver. "I just don't..." He stopped, shifted directions like he'd gotten uncomfortable suddenly. His shoulders straightened. "As Lady of the Hunt, you should know that there is about a week until the fun begins."

"Yeah, got that already," I said, draping my arms on the rail and letting my head rest heavy. Below us, tiny lanterns flashed into being. Several people hurried along a wide garden trail. "What else do I need to know?"

"You'll have to fight in the Hunt. The King can supply you with weapons, clothes, whatever you need. For you and the crag cat."

"Shail," I corrected. Expecting a treat, I think, the cat's head lifted and his thick ears rotated forward. He watched me with a closed, attentive expression, but when I didn't go near him, the cat puffed up his chest, let out an enormous sigh, and laid his head upon his crossed paws. "So is this non-protection from strangers something he'll do a lot, or are you like a cat whisperer or something?"

"If he was truly nasty, he'd have mauled someone by now."

"Comforting," I hissed. "So if someone were to break into my room while I was sleeping, there's a chance Shail might sit there?"

"You won't know until you're in that situation," Chiro said. I thought I caught him frowning, but when I search his eyes for emotion they were blank. "Are you planning on being in that situation?"

"Well, not 'planning,' but—"

"You should," he said curtly. "And you should prepare to face more than a man. Knives and crag cats will only get you so far. We all wear our true selves underneath."

"You turn into that thing on your back, don't you? A sabertooth?"

"In a way," he agreed.

"Alright," I said, drumming the stone railing. "I can get behind that. Lots of things have true forms, like werewolves. Is it an on/off switch situation, or is it controlled by something?" I could tell he didn't want to answer questions, and the longer I stayed in one place, the more tired I felt and the less I wanted to ask him. So I gave him a small break and watched the moon rise over the violet sky.

I thought back to the spider and the hoary frost covering its hairy legs. What did the Prince know about my inherent abilities? What did the King know? According to the peddler, the last woman in the Hunt had been fired up...Did they suspect a similar outcome with me? I wasn't sure I wanted to tell him what I could do, especially since I'd only done it once.

"Look," I said when it became apparent he had zero interest in speaking further. "There's been a lot of things in this world I don't understand and I really still don't."

"There's one thing you need to understand: adapt or die."

Muffled voices carried on the floral wind. I looked Chiro over. He was quiet, intense in his thoughts.

"In the interest of adaptation, I have a favor to ask you, Your Highness." To add to my lady-like charm, I touched his dusty sleeve.

"Ask the King."

"He creeps me out. I'd rather not."

"And I don't?"

"You're easy on the eyes," I admitted. The corner of his mouth twitched into a quick smile. "I know that shouldn't count for much, but you haven't been exactly horrible to me since I've been here. You stabbed me and trust me when I say I'll make you pay for doing that, but for right now, I'm aiming to survive. Revenge'll come later."

He seemed almost intrigued when I changed gears, but his shoulders dropped and he asked a tired, "What do you want?"

"I'm not strong like you. I can't  just be a monster when someone's bothering me. I have to level the playing field somehow," I began, making sure to look him square in the eye. "I asking you for permission to sleep in your room."

"My room?" Genuine surprise deepened his tone. "No."

"Well, I was more thinking you could stay here," I said, waving at the bed, "and nip my problem in the bud. Shail and I will just chill until you're back."

"I'm not risking my ass for yours," he said, heading for the door. He stopped to scratch Shail's chin. "But I admire the thought. You want a spot on my floor, it's yours."

"Thanks!" I exclaimed, and it was my turn to be shocked at his agreement. I'd been anticipating more of a fight than that.

"You're having a bath here," he said stiffly. "You might be a lady, but you smell worse than a rotten skunk."

I rolled my eyes. "Fine, whatever, I'm just happy to be invited.  Just how do we sneak over? I don't want anyone seeing us in your room." I had a feeling he shared the same thought.

He gave me instructions to leave during a late dinner for hunt participants.

"Bring me something back," I called as he gripped the door handle.

"I think I've been nice enough." He moved to leave. I stopped him for one last, pressing question. "What did the peddler give me to drink?"

"I don't know," he said. "Don't do it again."

*

After Chiro left, I flagged down a servant and asked for dinner in my room and for a leg of something for Shail. Bond to him with food and petting. My plan had worked well so far.

I'd had a bath drawn as well, but while I stripped down to soak in the hot water, Shail had squished himself into the tub. He was trying to lay down, but his tail didn't bend enough to fit, so he stood there up to his elbows, eyes shut in my bath as steaming water pooled across the floor toward my feet.

When he'd finally gotten out, the foot of water left behind was dingy grey. "We'll go find a pond or something tomorrow then," I promised the crag cat. He purred loudly.

By the time dinner arrived I'd had no real choice but to scrub myself off in the crag cat's leftover water. And then I'd slipped into the cold hall in a long-sleeved nightgown with my knife hidden and my leather bracers and vest underneath. With the dangers in the palace, having that small protection, even if the material carried a bit of an odor, relaxed me. Shail followed me into the wide hall and we crept through the flickering glow of torches toward the Prince's room.