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Giroth pulls me back further, and the demon's eyes scan to him. “New pet, Giroth?”
“The King’s request, actually.”
The demon grunts and then starts to walk away as I stare at it in wonderment. It’s the thing of nightmares, of bedtime stories. It’s a massive monster, and yet, Giroth spoke to him as I would to any neighbor.
“What was that?” I breathe.
“Oh, that’s Astrof.”
“But he’s a demon?”
Giroth nods. “He’s a Gilak.”
I turn to look at him and his much smaller, wingless frame. “And you are?” I've already forgotten the words.
“A Volvath.” He doesn't seem to mind reminding me.
I nod, trying to soak it in. Before I can say anything more, though, Giroth seems to hear something, his head whipping around. “Shit,” he mutters, pulling me off the path we had been walking on.
I almost trip over the rough plants growing between the buildings. They’re hard and thick, mostly black but I spot some silver and gold peeking through. They don’t look anything like what I’ve seen on Protheka. These almost look robotic.
That’s when I hear it. There’s strong drums and the sound of stomping feet. My heart leaps in my throat, and I turn toward the sound.
“What is...?” My words trail off as a line of dark elves step into my view, pounding the drums. They are shackled and move in unison, marching forward. Behind them are more elves, heavy chairs weighing down their shoulders. I almost smile at seeing them treated the very way they treated me my whole life.
“This is matron processional,” Giroth explains as the parade continues to move, a single file line of dark elves carrying a female demon on top of them. “To celebrate them and honor the children they birth.”
The matrons all have lithe forms and thick flowing hair. They are scantily clothed, their legs draped over one side of the chair or the other to show off their bodies. Their eyes seem to glow as they take us all in, and I wonder if they are assessing suitors.
The one thing I notice about the crowd lining the pathway, besides the varying types of demons that makes me shrink into Giroth’s shadow, is that there are no other humans. There’s the dark elves and the demons, but I’m the only small creature here.
I can feel panic rising up in me as a group of dancers pass through in the processional. They are dressed head to toe in black, their faces masked, and yet, their eyes look soulless. In fact, there isn’t a demon here that I've seen any compassion from, and I know that the dark elves aren’t capable of it.
With a city as different and as dangerous as this one with no other humans, I wouldn’t even know where I would start to look for Laura.
18
GIROTH
I watch with vague interest as the matron processional raps up, but I notice out of the corner of my eye that Cora is soaking it all in. Her eyes are so wide, her skin a shade slightly paler as the demons start to filter back onto the pathway to go about their day.
She doesn’t seem to realize the way I’m watching her as she assesses everyone else as I’m good at doing it without detection. I still don’t understand why she wanted to come out here. She must know there is no escape.
Her eyes don’t go to the alleyways between buildings, though, like I expect. Instead, the size up the demons, tracking down their bodies like she’s committing her comparisons to memory. She’s calculating, and I find that I like that.
I’m glad to be out here instead of locked up in my office. I hate doing the paperwork, and I especially need the distraction now that a problem has been brought to my attention.
I can’t fathom how a human woman got out of the cell, and I understand even less where she would go. I refuse to ask Cora because she most likely won’t tell me and I don’t want her to know that’s what my mind is on.
Instead, I lead her through the city as she asked. Her mind is heavily preoccupied, so she doesn’t ask me any more questions or pester me as she did before. Maybe this arrangement was a good idea.
“Now, you’ve seen other types of demons and witnessed our daily processional. Do you have any requests?”
She blinks up at me, looking shaken. I’m sure it’s a lot to take in, and her head snaps back as a crackle of thunder erupts from the sky. “Does that strike the ground?”
I shrug. “It doesn’t give us any trouble.” Lighting flashes through the clouds and her eyes dart around like she’s afraid of being out in the open. “Don’t worry. It only makes us stronger.”
Her skin seems to pale at that, and I almost feel bad. I’m not trying to frighten her. I thought she’d be happy that I am finally answering her questions.
