by Sara Snow
The room absolutely didn’t fit within the palace. It was modern, painted in rich jewel tones and decorated with exotic fabrics, beads, and all sorts of funky decor. There was a thick shaggy rug beneath our feet and for a moment I almost let myself get lost in the desire to take my shoes off and feel it under my soles. The bed was enormous, its teal and amethyst comforter poofy and dotted with pearls along the seams and a huge TV was mounted to the opposite wall. It was everything I had dreamed of when I was a kid. I’d always looked at the dirty beige or eggshell walls of whatever bedroom I was sharing with other foster kids at the moment and wished that I could paint them these colors and give it a makeover just like this. Sitting in the corner was a guitar that looked just like the one I had left behind in Chicago. I couldn’t help but wonder how long he had been planning this.
“What do you think?” Paimon asked.
I knew that I was one step away from being in Hell, but I was genuinely blown away by the beauty of the room. I tried to form words that would acceptably express what I was feeling, but I struggled.
“It’s perfect,” was all I could come up with.
The only thing out of place was the imposing figure of the demon king standing next to me, casting a long shadow across the floor despite the bright white light bulbs that hung down from the ceiling. It seemed unnatural and out of place, but then again, so did he.
“I’ll let you settle in. The dining hall will be filled with food for you in the morning if you’re hungry. If you need anything in the meantime, ask anyone around. They’ll fetch it for you or show you where it is.”
I was a bit surprised. “You mean I can just go wherever I want?”
Paimon laughed, and it shouldn’t have shocked me that his laugh was so hearty and charming, seeming absolutely delighted by the question. “This isn’t a cage; you live here, Georgia. You can go where you want and do what you like. You’re my daughter. Everyone here serves me, and so, they serve you too.”
His eyes were gleaming red, but they almost felt warm as they looked down at me. I immediately reminded myself that his charms were dangerous, and now I was really beginning to understand why. It felt so strange to see the man who was my father, who seemed warm and welcoming, who just a day prior had tried to kill the man I loved. Whatever he said was a trap, but I played along anyway, nodding my head.
He seemed pleased. “You and I are going to do great things together, Georgia.”
“I can’t wait,” I said with a smile as he stepped out and closed the door behind him, leaving me alone in the decadent bedroom of my childhood dreams. As soon as the air was still and I was alone, though, I really felt it. The solitude. I missed Carter already, wishing he could be here with me. I took the guitar from its stand and crawled into the bed, cradling it in my lap and mindlessly plucking at the strings. I noticed something on the bedside table—a small guitar pick. I picked it up and was shocked to realize it was the John Lennon pick—the same one that Carter had given me.
As I turned the pick over and over in my hands, I realized that the room must be an illusion. There was no way Paimon would have known exactly what my guitar looked like, and even if he had sent a minion to find out, there was no way he would have put Carter’s pick in here when he thought I’d just betrayed him, especially since he couldn’t see my thoughts or anything in my head. He must have put some sort of spell on the room that made it appear the way I wanted it to. Knowing Paimon, though, he’d be careful. The room would probably be fixed now so that I couldn’t change my mind and decide that my dream bedroom included a hundred demon slayers and infinite fuel for our flamethrowers. It was a good move, I had to admit.
If the room was created by magic, then that was good. I was already learning valuable information about the palace, a realization that excited me out of the fear that was beginning to cloud my mind. Time was precious, and as I continued to strum the guitar, I realized that there was still plenty to learn. I wouldn’t be able to sleep for a while yet, and there was no point in sitting around, so I climbed off the bed and returned the guitar to its stand.
The hallway outside the door was fairly quiet, only the occasional sound of distant footfalls echoing down the branching hallways. I decided to go down the hall to my left to do a bit of exploring. There were so many twists and turns in the palace, which I’d remembered from before. The lesser demons patrolling the corridors didn’t look at me as I passed them, keeping their eyes straight ahead as they marched only until they stopped to bend into a deep bow. It was so strange.
I wandered through chamber after chamber, searching for anything that could help me plan my escape once I finally got the information that I needed. So far, though, the main chambers seemed to be fairly straightforward—a dining hall, kitchens, guardrooms, storage rooms, and at least one large training room that seemed to be empty. After a while, though, the rooms began to seem familiar. Every time I turned down a hallway, I felt like I was seeing something I’d already seen, but the layout stopped making sense. I was passing my bedroom door more than I thought I should be without having turned around, and although the halls were definitely confusingly convoluted, it didn’t feel right to keep ending up back there. I pressed on, determined to see where else I could get.
I heard a small “Hello,” spoken on the opposite side of the large dining hall as I passed back through it. I thought I had already passed through this dining hall, but at the moment, I was preoccupied with the human-looking girl standing near one of the tables—the one new thing I’d seen on this walk.
She was tall with long, snow white hair that stood out even more brightly against her dark skin. Her posture was elegant, with her hands folded neatly in front of her, nestled against her lustrous robe-like dress, which was adorned with glittering embroidery and sparkling gems along the neckline. Her face was soft and her smile warm beneath eyes that were like mine—a rich violet. She was stunning—supernaturally beautiful, like no one I’d seen before.
“Hi,” I echoed, trying not to sound like I was caught off guard, which I absolutely was.
“Are you the Huntress?” she asked, a bit sheepish.
I floundered. “The…huh?”
“You’re King Paimon’s daughter, correct?” Her voice was soft and gentle and had a certain calming presence about it.
“Word travels fast around here, huh?” I asked with a laugh, trying to brush off my confusion. She didn’t return it, but her smile stretched just a bit wider as if to acknowledge that it was made. That was something, I supposed.
“I apologize for greeting you out of turn. We don’t see many new faces around here and I was a bit excited. You just look like someone I’ve seen before.” She bowed. “I’m Rakshasi, my Princess. What may I call you?” she asked. I would guess that she was maybe a few years older than me, although for anyone living in a demon palace it was hard to say for sure.
“Georgia,” I answered nervously. “Just Georgia, please. Uh, are you human? Is that rude to ask?”
She gave a small giggle, hiding it behind one of her delicate hands. “I don’t mind. I’m partially human. I’m a cambion, like you.”
“Really?”
To say that I was shocked would be an understatement. I hadn’t imagined I’d be finding other cambion living in the palace, and hadn’t really considered the possibility until Rakshasi was already staring me in the face. The possibility of her being sent to spy on me was high, though. I had to keep my cool around her.
She nodded. “Abalam is my father.”
So she’s a princess. And the daughter of the demon who tried to turn my boyfriend’s brains into scrambled eggs, at that. Interesting.
“And you’ve lived here with him?” I asked.
“My whole life, yes.”
I shouldn’t have been surprised by the existence of others, but with my complete lack of a connection to this world I had so many questions about what it was like to grow up more in touch with the demon side. I knew I should keep my distance, though. As fri
endly as she seemed, she was still part of Paimon’s entourage, and I couldn’t risk getting too involved.
Then again, the more I knew, the more advantage I would have. I figured I could let myself ask a few questions.
“You called me the Huntress a minute ago,” I started. “What did you mean?”
Rakshasi cocked her head curiously. “Surely King Paimon has taught you of the Scroll of The Huntress?”
I had to think quickly on my feet. “Oh, of course. It’s been years, so I don’t remember all of it too well. It’s…” I had to make a quick guess. “It’s a lot to remember.”
“Of course.” She seemed to understand and continue. “I’ve been told stories of the Huntress since I was a child. She’s supposed to be a cambion huntress with supernatural powers who is destined to decide the fate of the realms of both mortals and demons.”
“Yes, I remember now. Wait, you said a cambion with powers? Do other cambions not have powers?”
Rakshasi set her lips tightly together and for the first time, I saw a small break in her sweet and calm exterior. It only lasted for a second before she took a sharp inhale and was back to her previous self. “Not all cambions do, no. It all depends on the status of one’s demonic parent in the hierarchy. Some kings don’t have King Paimon’s power, and thus their children don’t have power at all.”
It seemed obvious to me from the disguised bitterness in her voice that she was one of the ones who didn’t, so I quickly decided to change tack. I didn’t want to piss her off three seconds after meeting me, especially if she could offer me the information I needed.
“So the Scroll of The Huntress, who’s read it?”
“No one has really read it, per se. It is a scripture that’s been circulated for hundreds of years through our world. Its tales have primarily been spread orally, as the ancient scroll itself is buried deep within the crypts of this palace beneath the bodies of King Paimon’s many enemies. But most who have grown up in the hierarchy of demons know its tale,” she said, as if that was a normal thing to say.
“Isn’t there a library in this place to keep it in?” I asked, a bit sarcastic.
“I’m certain you’ll know soon enough why the scroll is kept where it is. I am sure your father will remind you when he goes over things with you.”
That seemed a bit cryptic. I wanted to pry further, but it didn’t seem worth it at that moment. I had to choose my questions carefully. Before I could ask anything, Rakshasi had turned toward the hallway.
“It’s getting late. I should be on my way,” she said.
“Ah, yeah, you’re right. I should probably find my way back to my room. This place is like a maze,” I laughed.
“If you’re lost, I can lead you back. I’m going in that direction anyway.”
“Sure, that would be awesome! Thank you! I’m not really great with directions.”
Rakshasi led the way through the corridors, and I couldn’t help but notice how graceful she was as she walked, like she was gliding. If I didn’t see her toes poke out of the front of her dress with each step, I’d have been convinced she was floating. The way all the guards bowed to her as we passed felt so weird. Well, I guessed they were bowing to us. The princesses.
Ugh.
It was so strange. She was the daughter of a demon king who had tried to kill me and my friends, but aside from maybe being a little too proper for my taste, she seemed nice enough. I was hesitant to trust her out of a sheer history of deep mistrust with new people, but something about her seemed calming enough. I thought maybe it was her human side. Maybe she was also glad to be able to talk to someone just like her. I knew I was.
“I have to know, what was it like growing up in the palace?” I asked.
She seemed to ponder for a moment. “Lonely.”
I should have seen that answer coming, though I thought it was really honest of her to say so to a near stranger. But if anyone could relate, it was me. “Was there really no one else to spend time with? Any other cambions?”
“Cambions with demonic fathers are generally left with their human mothers. I’m an unusual case. I spent my time with my father’s—our fathers’—servants while my father went about his business.”
“Ah. That sounds rough. If it makes you feel any better, no one around here will even look at me except you.”
“You are a princess. They are not allowed to speak to you unless you or your father require it,” she said a bit perplexed, as if I should have known this.
Maybe I should have thought about it before, but being called a princess was so strange. I didn’t like the feeling of it at all. Maybe I was too grounded for that kind of title, but I definitely wasn’t feeling like a princess.
“That’s good, I almost thought they were scared of me,” I laughed, trying to brush off my apparent indiscretion.
“Ah, it’s not so. There’s only one thing the demons in this palace fear,” she remarked.
That piqued my interest. “What’s that?”
“Surely you know about the weapon that’s destined to kill the king?” she asked, surprised again. “The telum was a three-bladed dagger that was foretold to kill King Paimon. It was broken into three pieces, each prong hidden by one of the three kings that rule in this castle. I’ve been told horror stories of it my whole life. Every demon here has.”
“And those pieces are in the castle?” I asked.
“I couldn’t say. I’ve never been told. My father has never trusted me with that kind of information. He… Well, we’re not close, as you can tell. He’s never quite seen me as a true daughter…?
“I guess that makes sense.” I tried not to show my disappointment. “I’m sorry you had to grow up like that,” I added, a bit as an afterthought.
“Don’t feel sorry for me, just feel thankful that you got to be raised by your mother. It’s better to be raised by your human parent.”
“I wouldn’t know,” I said with a laugh. “I was passed around from foster home to foster home until I was old enough to take care of myself.”
“A foster home? What’s that?” She seemed genuinely intrigued. Maybe I wouldn’t be the only one learning here.
“When you don’t have parents, the government will put you in a foster home with a bunch of other kids being raised by a couple who want to be parents.”
“Humans will take in unwanted children and raise them? That seems very kind.”
For a demon, I thought she had quite a sweet outlook on things. It had to have been the human half of her heart shining through. If only she was right, though.
“It’s not as great as it seems. The system is terrible and the parents all suck. Well, mine did. And I went through a lot of them. They’ll ignore you, beat you, starve you, and cram you in a room with ten other kids that they’re doing all that shit to, too. They’re just in it for the money.”
“I see. That’s a sad way to live and an unfair thing to inflict on children. I’m sorry.” Her voice was low and somber, and I think she was really struck by the newfound knowledge.
“Let’s just agree that both of our childhoods sucked and leave it at that,” I said, hoping she’d cheer up.
Before I knew it, we were back in front of my intricate stone door, looking just as lustrous as I left it. We stopped in front of it.
“Thanks for walking me back, Rakshasi. It was nice talking to you.”
“It was my pleasure. I hope to see you around sometime,” she said with a smile before turning to go.
I opened the door to find the room just as empty as I’d left it. Though I couldn’t afford to get close to anyone here, Rakshasi’s presence in the palace definitely made me feel a bit less lonely. It was nice to know I wasn’t the only half demon with a shitty childhood. I hoped to be able to get at least a bit more information from her before I left, though the Huntress Scroll already seemed to be the best place to start. As I changed into a set of pajamas I found in the large walk-in closet and crawled into bed, I started to hope that ma
ybe my time here wouldn’t be as terrible as I thought.
Carter
I honestly was barely sure what Jacob and I were even arguing about or why he was lingering around to yell at me when he stopped back for supplies for him and Eli. It seemed like a bit of a ridiculous time to be fighting, but as far as I was concerned, he was kind of an idiot. Critical thought wasn’t his strong suit, and I guess seeing me working out plans of any kind for the group was too much for his ego to handle.
I dropped what I was doing when he’d first yelled at me, hardly registering what he even said. He broke my train of thought, and that pissed me off just enough to get me stirred up into whatever little confrontation he was trying to start.
“Carter, don’t pretend that you’re ready for this,” Jacob repeated.
I was a bit caught off guard by his words, though I was sure I knew what he was talking about.
“What are you talking about?” I asked anyway, just to be a bit obstinate.
“Don’t act like an idiot. You know someone needs to take Kingston’s place as the leader of the group, and you know it should be me.”
This little game with Jacob was starting to get on my nerves. I’d seen the way he’d been looking at Georgia, the little sideways glances he’d throw in my direction. His jealousy was so painfully obvious to me. Now here he was, trying to claim yet another thing that he didn’t deserve for himself.
“As the second-in-command of this group for several decades, I think I know what I’m doing,” I told him. “The legacy of the group was left in my hands.”
He was always acting like such a know-it-all, as if I hadn’t been leading this team with Kingston for years. As he stood across the front room of the warehouse shouting at me, I had just about had it.
“You don’t know my own father’s legacy better than me. You’re being ridiculous, Carter!” he yelled.
I couldn’t help but scoff. “I’ve known your father’s legacy for longer than you’ve even been alive, Jacob. I’m perfectly capable of leading the team that I’ve been co-leading for decades. Where have you been all these years, huh? That’s right, you weren’t even a twinkle in Kingston’s eye when I was working my ass off to get this team together.”