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and fear.

“I think this enough show for today,” the patriarch called out to his people. The crowds broke from the silence, murmuring in agreement. They all turned, walking back out into the growing wet wind. Tia watched them, gazing at the darkness and the bluster of air. In the distance she could hear the gold chains of the fence tinkling as the red papers whipped about, torn in the gale.

“Wait! You had better leave this village altogether!” Tia suddenly shouted to them.

The hunter looked amused, wondering what she was doing now. The patriarch stopped, gazing over the crowd he was herding out.

“The Goles expect this storm to destroy the fence. You will have no protection. They can’t hear us now because of the howling wind, so you have a chance to escape before they get out,” she cried. “They plan to eat you in the night when storm has passed.”

Several men stared at her with widening eyes.

“How do you know this?” the patriarch said, his skepticism resurfacing as he peered at her. “Did they tell you?”

“I know all his thoughts,” Tia replied, trying to calm the pounding in her chest. “I heard them all when I touched him.”

The hunter blinked at her. He then turned to the village Patriarch. “She might be right. You had better evacuate the village. I can deal with her and the Goles.”

“When you touched him?” the patriarch echoed. He shook his head staring at her. “It was you at the fence!”

“I only wanted out.” Tia begged. “I hadn’t meant any harm. I just wanted leave here.”

“You shared the Gole’s mind?” The patriarch glared at her. “You must be Golish still if you absorbed his essence.” He turned and ushered more people outside. “We will take care of our own, demon. But a Gole’s friend is not our friend.”

Tia dropped to her knees. She watched each person exit the hall, leaving her alone with the hunter.

 

The winds howled now, blowing hard against the walls. The shutters rattled. The electric light above swung on the draft that blew from the flapping bird door that broke open. Its latch was hanging by one screw now. Resting above, the doves cooed some as they huddled next to one another, tucking their feathers in. Tia sat in her circle, clenching her legs to her chest and resting her head on her knees. The hunter sat with his back against the near wall just next to the demon circle, holding his sword across his extended legs.

The door banged open.

Both Tia and the hunter looked up from where they were sitting. A woman from the village apologetically stood in the opening, carrying a wrapped parcel. She blushed.

“I am sorry to disturb you, but I brought food for you.” She carried the parcel over to the hunter, setting it near his feet. “There is warm soup and some bread.”

“Has the village patriarch decided to evacuate?” the hunter asked.

Tia lowered her head, clenching her legs closer to herself. She knew there was no food there meant for her. Her stomach gurgled, biting her insides.

“They have already cleared out most of the women and children,” the woman replied with a smile.

Tia peeked up over her knees.

“The men are preparing something special, but we will not talk about it. The Goles may be listening, despite the wind.” The woman unwrapped the parcel, lifting off a steaming lid. The aromas gusted out in a plume of vapor. Tia’s mouth started to water. She swallowed, trying to dry her lips.

“Do you think the patriarch would let me help? Demons are my specialty,” the hunter said.

The woman nodded with a mild smile, looking directly at his bright blue eyes. “Perhaps. But Patriarch Darsal does not trust outsiders much. He thinks you may be a Cordril, another demon hired by the government. He has heard of Cordril hunters searching out Sky Children.”

“Yes,” the hunter said. “One of those would be terrifying.”

Tia lowered her head. Demons were always talked about in Brein Amon. In the ancient days half the population was a demon of some sort. But all demons had limitations just as humans did. The only difference was that humans had more adaptability to their environment. This she knew from the culmination of memories she had absorbed, topped by the Gole’s extremely long memory of the time before the war. It had not seen a Sky Child with blue eyes in ages. And when she had absorbed him, he was shocked to realize that one still existed that had its powers. Tia wondered if any blue-eyed Sky Children were left at all or if she was the last.

The woman’s feet tapped silently against the wood floor as she walked away. Tia heard her open and close the door, fighting against another loud gust of wind to prevent a slam. The room was still again except for the wind and the small scraping sound of a knife on some toast.

“Do you want some?”

She lifted her head. The hunter was holding up a piece of toasted bread. He had smeared it with jellied preserves.

Tia blinked, her mouth salivating. “Yes. But I thought—”

He broke into a small laugh. “I can’t have you faint from starvation. We still have to go to Danslik.”

The hunter tossed over the bread. Tia caught it, staring at him still. He picked up another piece and started to spread on butter.

Holding the piece of bread in her hand, Tia hesitated to take a bite, still watching him. He was not much older than she was, now that she really got to look at him. The hunter had scars on his hands and a few on his face, especially the new cat scratch she had given him, but his skin had yet to be weatherworn. He barely looked thirty.

“Eat it. I doubt that birdseed filled you any. And I certainly don’t think you ate anything when you were a Gole,” he said.

She ducked her head and took a bite. The bread was soft under the toasted top. The butter melted on her tongue. It was better than what the Underlord made in his bakery and his bread was the best in Calcumum. Tears filled her eyes. She took larger bites.

“Ho! Don’t inhale it! This may be our only meal for a while.” The hunter shoved the lid over the circle’s line with half of the meal placed on it. “Chew it slowly. I don’t want you to choke and die. The bounty does not call for a dead Sky Child.”

Tia swallowed. “Bounty? Is that why you are trying to take me to Danslik?”

He smiled, placing the steaming spoonful of stew into his mouth. Chewing to the side of his mouth, he nodded. “Of course. The Patriarch of Brein Amon is paying fifty thousand gold pieces for your safe retrieval. I suppose he thinks the Sky Lord’s treasure is more than that. I think he expects a profit from this venture.”

It was the second time she had heard about the Sky Lord’s treasure. The Gole did not have any such thing in his memory, and she wondered it was a myth from the way this hunter talked about it.

“Do you think there is a treasure?” Tia asked him.

The hunter smirked with a shrug. “Probably, but not like how we’d expect it to be. I’ve heard rumors the same as anybody, but gold hunting is not as exciting as demon hunting.”

Tia continued to stare at him. “Do you take great pleasure in hunting people?”

He choked. Coughing and then managing to swallow the food he had just stuck into his mouth, the hunter said, “I suppose my profession bothers you.”

She glared at him. “I would not be trapped if you weren’t here.”

That received a snort.

“I am not the only hunter on your trail, miss sky demon,” he replied with a mocking bite to his voice. “I am just merely the best. You are only lucky that it was I who caught you and not someone else.”

Tia stood up with a growl, clenching her fists. “Lucky? Of all the…! You egotistical—”

“You’re not hungry then, I take it?” he said, reaching out for the lid full of food.

She jumped down and snatched up the food at her feet, clenching it close to her. “You are a spiteful man! I’m starving!”

He pulled back his hand, blinking at her. “Well, then eat!”

And she did eat, quickly and with her hands, stuffing the food into her mouth and swallowing it with her tears. She cast back glares at him s she felt the degradation of a beggar all over again. How would he transport her back to the capital city? It certainly would not be by car or by any other means that she could escape from. This demon hunter watched her keenly, making her feel more like a beast than human—and she cried.

The windows rattled. The roof shook above. The doves stirred, fluttering restlessly in the rafters. Tia had returned back to the floor, attempting to sleep in her sitting position inside the circle. The hunter rested with his hood over his eyes, his sword still on his knees, his arms crossed.

 

Tia felt a hand on her shoulder. It was the village patriarch. He lifted a finger to his lips. Taking her hand, he pulled her over the circle line. She looked down and saw the chalk rubbed off. The barrier was broken.

Glancing up, she stood, looking for the hunter. He was not there.

She opened her mouth, but the patriarch swiftly placed his hand on her lips and shook his head. He led her instead out across the room to a side door that slid into the wall. When he closed the door, he whispered. “You saved my people. You were right. The fence fell in the storm. The Goles are gone.”

Tia lifted her head, listening. The air was still.

“Did you hear where they planned to go?” the patriarch asked.

She nodded immediately. “The woods, to block your exit. Are your families safe?”

The patriarch smiled. “Very safe.” He then looked around, glancing once where the hunter had been sleeping. “You may go now. We will take care of things.”

He let her out another door that opened into the square, handing her a cloak for the journey. She pulled it on gratefully, stepping out where the air had gone increasingly cold. “Winter will be here soon. Travel safe, and good luck to you.”

“I knew I couldn’t trust you,” that familiar hunter’s voice said from across the square. His sword was drawn. He shook his head at the patriarch. “You are one great pretender.”

He crossed over the gravel, lowering his sword point for attack. “You will give me the Sky Child now, and step away.”

The patriarch stood firm. Tia glanced at him once but then blinked, pulling back. The man who was once firm and rugged now had a more angular look to his face, pulled back like a crow’s. Rows of sharp teeth filled his mouth. Feathers sprouted where his hair had been. His own cloak was now a large set of wings.

“Where are the villagers?” the hunter snapped, pulling out his bow. His gloves were on and buckled at his wrists.

“Safe,” the patriarch that was a bird demon hissed.

“From you, or just the Goles?” The hunter notched an arrow into the bow.

The bird demon cawed. “This is my hunting ground, Cordril. Not you or the Goles will take my prey from me.”

Tia recoiled, staggering away from the demon bird that stood before her now. It was still a man but so much more birdlike that even she did not recognize him.

The demon turned and eyed her narrowly. “I was going to spare you for saving me a lot of trouble, but a living Sky Child is too dangerous to have around now that you know my secret.”

The hunter let go of the arrow.

The piercing shriek was nothing compared to the yowling of the demon before her, or the sudden shouts of the Goles that entered into the square, charging towards the hunter. They had their hands clamped over

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