Dracoth stays annoyingly silent, leaving me dangling like I’m waiting for the latest Chanel season catalogue to drop.
Maybe I’ve said too much, revealed too much crazy?
“This new aspect of you is... pleasing,” he finally replies, tilting his broad head toward me with an expression stuck between faint wonder and something almost resembling joy.
Practically an emotion!
He offers more large cuts of meat, but I hold up my hands, stomach nearing stuffed turkey levels of fullness.
“I cannot teach you,” he says, at last answering my question. Without pause, he tears into the steaks with brutal efficiency, devouring four in quick succession like he’s at an eating competition. “Because, like you, I did not believe.”
He rises abruptly, looming over me like one of the immense trees around our camp.
My heart sinks, though I can’t say I’m surprised. Dracoth is a giant red murder meathead, not the nerdy occult-reading type.
“Garzum or one of the Magaxus faithful can teach you,” he adds, brushing his hands off mere inches from the fire—so close I’m amazed he doesn’t flinch.
“Wait,” I blurt, “what about Ignixis?”
“No,” Dracoth huffs, sounding like a wind tunnel. “He loathes the lesser species. He will refuse,” he adds, offering an outstretched hand.
“Lesser species?” I frown up at him in annoyance. “Really, Dracoth?”
Ugh, he’s so rude sometimes!
Still, I take his offered hand, and with the barest flick of his wrist, he hoists me up as if I weigh nothing, launching me a full foot into the air. I land unsteadily, glaring up at him, but he’s already turning away like it’s no big deal.
“I’m not alesser species,” I remind him, a smirk spreading across my lips, fueled by unshakable confidence. “I’m the blessed daughter, remember?Hewill teach me.” I pause for effect, crossing my arms. “I’ll make him if I have to. Even if it means turning him into a creepy demon sandwich again.”
Dracoth’s crimson eyes narrow slightly. “Actions speak—”
“Louder than words,” I cut him off with a knowing scoff, predicting his tiresome lack of faith in me. “Yes, yes, I know. Just be ready to eat a nice slice of humble pie when I convince him.”
He doesn’t reply, instead turning his attention to the campfire, snuffing out the flames with his bare hands like they’re nothing more than wisps of smoke.
The mention of pie sparks a memory, and my stomach drops.
“Todd?” I call, glancing toward the spongy orange moss and the dense red bushes just beyond our camp. “Todd!” My voice sharpens with urgency, my chest tightening as concern churns in my gut.
“Help me find him,” I pull at thick brambles, hoping to spot the cute little grub within, discovering nothing but the pleasant ache from Dracoth’s early attentions.
Dracoth barely looks up as he bundles our furs into the satchel. “Now fattened, it wandered off to be devoured,” he says with a casual air, not even pretending to care.
“Fuck’s sake, Dracoth! You’re not helping,” I snap, anger and panic heating my face.
I start yanking at thick brambles, scanning every shadow and crevice in the hope of finding him. “Todd!” I shout again, kicking over a bundle of leaves and twigs.
A rustling sound to my right makes my head whip around, and a beaming smile of elation blooms on my lips. Todd, the little scamp, skitters from under a dense pile of large red leaves. His segmented leathery body looking extra plump.
“There you are, you little chug bug!” I squeal in delight, rushing over to scoop up the rascal.
“You had us both so worried,” I scold him, though my voice softens as I cradle the cute troublemaker close.
Dracoth, of course, remains entirely indifferent, his attention focused on tightening the straps of the satchel. I can practically feel his silent disinterest radiating off him.
Todd clacks his tiny mandibles near my face, his single gleaming black eye reflecting my delighted grin.
He’s so cute!
