Lord of the Night

Chapter 49: Sitaklasa Meeting

The Demon in question looked even more startled by Kardki's statement than I was. "Me?" His voice was very quiet, maybe intended to be inaudible, but by virtue of our Guardian hearing, no one missed it.

Kardki released a strangled laugh. "You're the only Demon here...right?"

"I think so, yes." His speech sounded awkward and stilted, like an underperforming student explaining himself to a strict headmistress.

"Then, come," said Kardki.

"He needs to eat first." The words just came out as I thought them, spilling over the top of the bucket of thoughts I wanted to act upon. If I could get him food, I could at least pretend I had some ability to help him.

Kardki raised her eyebrows, but her posture and response both retained the deference befitting her lower rank. "There will be food at the council meeting, Brother Remgar."

I swallowed a swell of protest. "Alright. Then let's go."

The Guardians hovered, sending indecisive glances at Isalio and each other. I realized that they were trying to decide who should escort him and how. Was he a prisoner at this meeting, or a guest? Was he to be manhandled, or escorted?

Before they could come to a decision, I grabbed Isalio's arm and nodded at the other Guardians. My brusque grip offered the pretense of controlling him while allowing me to support him.

Isalio stumbled a little on the stairs, and only my hand on his shoulder prevented him from falling. At the top of the stairwell, his shoulders deflated with his exhale, a visible release of tension. I scanned the room to find the source of his relief before realizing he was reacting to leaving the cell. Being cuffed underground had to be torture for any Demon, and doubly so for one with his past.

Along with the relief, fatigue settled over him; his steps dragged and his head sagged. I worried once again about the restrictive cuffs, about his health, and about whatever he still wasn't telling me. He had opened up to me more than I had expected him to the night before, yet the things he hadn't yet said took up a greater space in my mind.

The moment we stepped out of the jail, those speculations fled my mind. A crowd surrounded the gates of the jail, held back by a number of underequipped human officers and a few Guardians. I recognized a few gaunt faces from the barn rescuees; though scrubbed clean, their time in the barn mottled their skin, etched premature creases onto their faces, and hollowed out dark space around their eyes. The rest of the humans were from Sitaklasa, well-fed and well-muscled from lives spent farming, hunting, and banging away in factories. Villagers and rescuees alike jeered, hissed, spat, and rattled the gate.

Tension clamped over my chest, constricting my breath. The animosity displayed the night before was far from over, and despite Ranndu and Zuzette's surprisingly supportive testimonies, the humans here appeared just as angry as the Guardians.

Beside me, Isalio's gaze was distant. The only indication that he even noticed the wave of hatred crashing toward him was his muted grumble and jerk of his arm, attempting to free himself from my grasp. The humans and other Guardians might have assumed he was protesting the rough treatment, but I recognized his real intent: he didn't want me to be associated with him.

I switched my hand on his arm so I could lay the other over his lower back, because fuck what he wanted. If he had gotten what he had wanted, he would either be dead or subject to Danif's whims right now. In the palace, Zuzette might have been right that I was a sheep under the protection of a wolf, but here in Sitaklasa, Isalio was the lamb awaiting slaughter. Although Fraschkit had accepted my plea to join Isalio the night before, there had been no final decision regarding his fate.