Page 100 of Fated to the Demon Lord

“Shh,” I hissed. “I’m pretending to be a kitchen boy.”

She gazed at me as if I were a ghost. “How are you not dead?”

“That’s a long story. But I’m here to set you free. To set all the humans free.”

Dread filled her face. “No, Denara. Not again⁠—”

“It’s going to work this time, I promise.” At least I hoped it would. “And I need your help.”

Fear flashed in her eyes.

“Look,” I said. “I’m sorry about making you sick before escaping.”

She shook her head. “Why’d you even try to help me escape?”

“Because you’re my friend, and I—I didn’t want to be alone.”

“Despite not trusting me.”

“I’m trusting you now.” I reached out and laid my hand on her bloodied one. “We can do this together.”

She stared at my hand, hesitating before asking, “What are you planning to do?”

I examined her food. “Do bodied Spiritu Malignos eat? I haven’t seen Vaelor eat once.” Even in his recently embodied form.

“Not because they need to, but because they want to,” Mira said.

I considered her words. It might make the task more difficult, less certain, but still possible. “I can work with that.”

“Hey!” the demon overseer barked. “What are you doing, boy? Stop trying to get into bed with the kitchen staff and get back here and lug more water!”

“Yes, sir.” I took a step away but whispered to Mira. “We’ll talk more later.”

Again she hesitated, but then she gave a slight nod.

I grabbed the bucket and dumped it into one of the pots. The overseer frowned at me.

“Next time, fill the entire bucket,” he snarled.

“Yes, sir.” I bristled inside at the required submission. Things had certainly changed in the twelve days I’d been with Vaelor.

I left and returned to the stream, filling the bucket and lugging it back. When I made it to the tent and dumped the water, my arms were aching, and I swiped my sweating forehead.

“That’s all the water we need,” another boy said. He appeared to be about eleven or twelve with brown hair that reminded me of Gerand. I followed him around the tent and stowed the buckets.

“What now?” I asked him.

A glimmer of excitement flashed across his face. Somehow this boy wasn’t crushed but had a spark of life to him. I admired that.

“Now we go watch the fighting.”

My heart leapt as I turned my eyes to the sky. The sun was setting. Soon, the fighting would begin.

The boy gestured for me to follow. “I know a spot where we can view it and not be noticed.”

I followed him through the forest until we came to the tree line on the edge of the camp. He grasped the trunk of a tree and shimmied up it.

Although it had been years ago now, I had climbed plenty of trees as a child. I rubbed my hands. I could do this. Slowly I inched my way up and onto a branch.