Page 34 of Caught in the Devil’s Hand

“But that… Well, what happened? I-I’ve not heard any of this,” she scoffed.

“Many in the Dark Court abused their power. Not most, but enough, and the lower classes rose up against us. Blondies are generally free of magic, so they ‘humbly’ accepted leadership, and slowly erased history so crows wouldn’t know what they had once been. They burned the court library, and for time slaughtered anyone who spoke of magic with any sympathy. Some families passed down stories to their children, but they were lost as time went on. Those with black hair neglected their magic because using it had been outlawed, and breaking the law was punishable by death.”

“You’re saying my—our ancestors were once the rulers? Everything I’ve been told a-about my soul being tainted, that’s all lies? A bunch of blondies made it up?” Bitter anger flooded her chest. He smoothed his hand along her side to soothe her, but it didn’t help.

“Magic had been used to hurt them, or at least, those who could wield it had hurt them.”

“Why didn’t they just kill anyone with black hair?”

“They did. Then black-haired children were born to family lines that had never borne them before. When blondes realized magic would continue to reappear, they…adjusted their narrative.”

“So everything people said about magic being evil—”

“Magic is not evil, nor is it good. It is neutral,” he explained, and she recognized the same words Majo had used.

“Why do some crows have it intrinsically?”

He shook his head slightly. “All crows have magic.”

“What? But Majo said only a few with black hair had it.”

“Either she was mistaken or she lied. All black-haired people have magic, almost always stronger than those who acquire it through ritual and study.”

“Then…my mother had magic?” she said with no small amount of surprise, wondering how Mama had hidden it her whole life.

“It’s possible to smother one’s magic,” he said with hesitation, as if trying to be delicate. “If you restrict it long enough, you’ll kill it. Your mother’s magic may have died long ago.”

And if Mama had lived, no doubt she would’ve taught Shumei how to kill her magic too. It wriggled as if sensing her thoughts, and she let it, no longer comfortable squeezing it until it stopped.

“The Divine One chooses to whom he grants magic and how much,” Vallen continued. “But his will often seems mysterious. For example, black-haired families usually produce only black-haired children, but occasionally, a child is born blonde, like your brother. There were theories as to why, but no one knew for certain.”

“But you said some people can acquire magic. Even blondies?” she asked.

He spoke as if hadn’t talked of such things for a long time, his words coming to him slowly. “A blondie would have to pray and perform many complicated rituals over many years, perhaps decades, before they would even feel the slightest touch of magic. Those with dark brown hair can acquire a sizeable amount in only a couple years using simple rituals.”

“So you were a warrior of the ruling class. You protected the people from the Damned One.”

“Yes, although my friends and I didn’t yet have formal ranks.”

“Who protects people now? Who fights the demons?”

“They’re not demon hunters, but the Divine One’s priests do what they can with the barrier charms. Perhaps you haven’t met many priests but all of them have dark brown hair.”

“I hardly know the local priest,” she muttered. “I have to give worship outside the temple.”

He sighed with sympathy, pressing his lips into a thin line. “They are among the few who know what the world was like before. They’re not substitutes for black-haired warriors, but their dark hair is a sign they have some magical ability. And they’re all the people have now to keep them safe.”

“How are you able to pass through the barrier charms? I mean, you…” She stopped, no longer comfortable calling him a demon to his face, not when his worst crime had been callously breaking a woman’s heart, a crime many men were guilty of.

“Barrier charms work because of the prayers etched into the wooden slabs, written in the language of magic. Most priests can write the phrase but don’t know its direct meaning, so there’s a couple versions of the prayer out there. One keeps out ‘demons,’ and the other bars ‘creatures of Oblivion.’ I am not a creature of Oblivion, so while some barriers can keep me out, yours cannot.”

Nodding, she thought of the gifts he had left inside her hut throughout the week, the start of which had been the deer jerky. The next morning, she found a beautiful, sturdy wooden comb, with all of its teeth, sitting in the middle of her palm. Knowing he had been that close to her had made her heart skip. Two mornings later, a bar of sweet-smelling soap was left sitting near her head. Its scent had entered her dreams, giving her visions of strong arms wrapped around her and large, soapy hands running over her naked body.

When Oka had asked her about the gifts, she hadn’t been quite sure what to tell him. Even she didn’t know why Vallen had been giving her such things.

“Is he trying to win your favor?” Oka had asked. “Does he want something else from you?” Shumei had stared at her brother, breath held. Vallen had said he wanted her to become his mistress, to bring along her brother… Perhaps the gifts were his way of wooing her?

“It’s possible,” she had confessed. “He wants me to leave the village with him and bring you as well.”