Later that night they were all gathered below me. I had climbed up onto the highest building, a three story tower with an enormous clock set in the front. Mother told me that a clock was a machine that could tell time. Time used to be different from following the sun in the sky.
The tower looked over the town square. I watched as they pointed at each other and raised their voices. Often they glanced up at the clocktower, where I was waiting.
Jacob, a man with seniority, stepped away from the crowd and called up to me.
"Henry, you say that eating the demon transformed you?"
"That's correct sir," I called down. I tried my best to keep my voice soft, but it still came out like a shriek. A few people took a step back from the clocktower.
"We searched the woods for the dying man, but never found him. Marcus only found marks from where you dragged something to the festival site."
"He could barely move when I found him," I said. "Maybe he was taken away by someone."
"It's lying!" George the miller shouted from the crowd. "He probably ate Edward's boy and is trying to trick us! If we let him go he'll eat the rest of our kids while we sleep!"
I felt a stab of betrayal in my chest. George was a good friend of my father's, and I'd often met him at the door when he came over to visit. He had a son and a daughter who were both younger than Luke.
"I'm not lying!" I called down. "This is my seventeenth year, my mother is the best in town at roasting apples, my father wants to shave but is worried that people won't respect him anymore if he's beardless."
A few uncomfortable laughs met my outburst. A solitary figure broke off from the crowd and crossed in front of the statue at the center of town square. It was my father.
"Henry, I'm sure it's you. Even without your memories I'd recognize you anywhere. I think a lot of folks down here want to make sure that the town is still safe after what happened to you."
"I heard what happened," an old voice said. At the edge of the square between two buildings was Wallace. He walked with a cane and a heavy limp, but he was moving with purpose.
"My grandfather told me about when demons were everywhere. Entire towns up and disappeared in a night. They caught people on the roads and in the morning they only found ragged shoes."
A few of the kids, including my brother, hid behind their parents. Nobody had seen a demon in decades, but people remembered that they were bad news. Even generations later we could still see the scars of the Invasion.
My father approached Wallace and almost grabbed him by the shoulders. His voice was low but urgent, and even from where I was I could hear it.
"Do you know what happened to Henry?"
Wallace scratched his beard. He was clearly enjoying being the center of attention after spending so long on the outskirts of town. For once his stories weren't so easily dismissible.
"Grandpa told me about the people who ate demons. Said a person becomes like them once he swallows every morsel. Didn't know why. Wasn't sure anyone knew why."
George looked between my father and Wallace. He stepped forward again and called up to me, "we have no proof that you are who you say you are. I will not put my children at risk on a hunch."
I felt a bit of sympathy for the man, but he was still trying to keep me from my family. For an instant I saw George's body impaled on my horns, then the image was gone. I shook my head and tried to think of dad, mom, and Luke.
