Page 40 of Witch’s Ruin

Before I knew it, all four began moving forward, slow, deliberate steps on all fours, pincers clicking.

“Mina,” Rixon warned, his voice tight.

I signaled him with my hand to stand down, moving aside, letting the procession of Trongs pass.

Every nerve ending in my body was on edge. I could only watch with wide eyes, my breath staggered. One of the Trongs made a series of clicking noises. A communication of sorts. Follow…it seemed to say.

So, we followed.

“I hope you know how this looks,” Rixon hissed, voice low.

Yes, I knew exactly how it looked. I was following behind a procession of demons, like some sort of mad demon wrangler. If anyone glanced out their window and saw this, the entire city would be buzzing.

I didn’t need to explain myself to Rixon. He was smart enough to know, regardless of how it looked, or how he felt about it. I was here to get a job done.

I half expected them to lead me to the King’s Mantle, right into the embrace of the Citadel witches. They didn’t, going in the opposite direction. A surge of relief swelled in my chest, not that it meant anything.

The witches, if they were summoning, wouldn’t do it at their place of residence. They’d find somewhere else. Somewhere secluded, off the beaten path, where they would go unnoticed.

The demons led us to the docks, to a place along the river. A grate stood, barring a drainage tunnel. It was broken and bent open, as if something had ripped it apart, making it plenty wide for a Trong to pass through.

My stomach dropped.

The Trongs stopped, turning as one to face me. It was eerie. Like they communicated without speech.

“This is where you came from?” I asked. More clicking noises. I peered into the darkness, my skin prickling—

“You there! Halt! In the name of the king!”

“Lady Witch?” Rixon’s words were measured. I knew why. If the guards saw us like this…

“Kill them.”

Rixon shot forward. I snared the demons in the same moment, and they screeched in fury, perhaps betrayal, but not for long. All four heads rolled seconds later.

The sound of clanking armor was upon us. Four city guards appeared. “What…?” Their eyes darted around before landing on the heap at Rixon’s feet. “Are those…?”

“Demons. Freshly slayed. Would you like to dispose of them?” I blinked up at them, offering a sweet smile.

They balked, stepping back several steps.

The one in front shook his head. “No, Lady Witch.”

Another guard nudged him, then said, “You are breaking curfew. We are ordered to arrest all who—”

“You would arrest your prince? Your heir?” I asked, infusing my voice with shock. Rixon chose this moment to turn from the carnage. Their eyes fell upon him and widened. They wouldn’t dare.

“You know,” I added, lifting a brow. “We chased these four through the city, but we found them in an alley beforehand. Can you guess what they were doing?” Silence. “They were eating two of your comrades.”

They paled in the darkness.

“There was aught but gore and armor when they finished. We didn’t have time to dispose of them—your friends. I’d recommend you head that way, recover what you can, and be happy we are here, else it might have been you they came for next.”

Their gulps were near audible. One of them had the presence of mind to nod and stammer his thanks.

“You will find them in an alley off Valecross Road,” Rixon informed them, his voice low. “Recover what you can.”

They turned and fled. I glanced up at him, inhaling. Then I incinerated the bodies and let the ashes sink into the muddy shore. The grate draining into the river was surrounded by mud and ick. With as much grace as I could manage in a gown, I made my way towards it. My boots squelched, sinking and suctioning with each step. I shuddered. Ick!