Lillian took hold of the man’s hand. He was close to breaking down. “I know they would not, Mr. Thrush. I only want to help recover your children. May I speak to your daughter?”
“She won’t talk. Said some crazy things when she first ran home, but then she went quiet. It’s like she’s been cursed mute.”
The crowd murmured at the word curse. Some dropped to their knees in prayer.
“I would like to try, if I may. I have a way with such things.
Mr. Thrush stepped aside, and Lillian crossed to the table. “I wonder if I might have a word alone with…”
“Joy, her name is Joy.” Tears bubbled over Mrs. Thrush’s lower lids.
With Dorian’s help, Mr. Thrush shooed the neighbors from the house. Chairs scraped the dirt floor, and the low hum of conversation stirred until they were alone.
Lillian pulled a rickety chair close to Joy and leaned in so her mouth was only an inch from the girl’s ear. “Joy, I know what you saw. I know you are afraid, but I will find your siblings. You are not mad.”
Joy blinked and turned her dirt-smudged face toward Lillian. “It was horrible.”
“I know. How many were there?”
“Two. Just two, but so strong and no like any men I’ve ever seen.”
“Were they short or tall?”
“One was unnaturally tall and big like the man from the circus what came when I was little. The other was small for a man with pointed teeth and dead eyes.”
Lillian nodded. “And what direction did they take your brother and sisters?”
“West on the road. I fought and screamed, but I couldna’ save them.”
“This is not your fault, Joy.”
“Will you save them, milady?”
Lillian leaned forward so only Joy would hear. “I will do everything I can to return your family to you, but you must know this was not your fault. There is evil at work here.”
“Who is at fault then?”
Lillian’s chest tightened painfully. “I cannot say. Just be assured you are not to blame.”
Joy’s eyes were wide pools. “Find them. They are good babies.”
With a nod, they bid the family good evening and rushed back to the posting house. On the way she grappled with her part in the abduction. “Whether we find them or not, we will need to be out of this area before first light. We will not be revered no matter the outcome. People blame strangers no matter their good intentions.”
“At least we managed a few meals and a good night’s sleep.” His words were laced with mirth.
She chuckled too. Nothing was ever easy. She supposed it never would be.
* * * *
She’d been much better with the family than Dorian had expected. Everyone had taken to her, trusted her. In fact, when he thought of it, he too trusted her more than their acquaintance should warrant. What was it about the woman? She was beautiful, certainly, but there was something else, a quality he couldn’t quite put a word to. He’d felt the pull of attraction to Lillian long before this quest started. He’d always considered it a blessing that they were rarely in each other’s company. Whatever it was that drew him in, he wanted to know more about her.
They’d borrowed two horses from the inn’s stable and demanded saddles. Lillian refused the sidesaddle and asked for a man’s. The stable boy’s eyes bulged and his mouth hung open before he complied.
Dorian chuckled about it while they mounted.
They also informed the innkeeper they needed their things loaded in their carriage and horses ready before dawn. Lilly was right about one thing, no matter the outcome, they would not be welcome when they returned. People often blamed strangers for things they didn’t understand. Better to disappear before they had trouble with humans as well as demons.
She tracked two demons up a mountain pass, as if she’d been born to do nothing else. Perhaps that was the case. Still in the highlands, the terrain was rough, rocky and mountainous. It was an area better suited to sheep than horses. Green patches of grass between gray rock and purple heather.
Holding up her hand, she pulled the horse to a stop. Dorian slowed, watched, and waited.
Lillian touched her nose, alerting him to the scent of wood burning. The wind came out of the northeast. The almost full moon lit the night well enough. They dismounted, and tied the horses to a low bit of brush along the rocky pass.
Spending the bulk of his time with the hunters behind a desk, he willingly took a step back and allowed Lillian to take the lead. She was far more experienced in the field. The fact that she was a woman meant nothing in The Company.
He wished he was as unaffected by her feminine allure.
To his astonishment, she pulled a string at her waist, which lifted her skirts, and she tucked them into some kind of belt hidden at her hips. Above her high leather boots, he glimpsed her creamy thighs. His gaze dropped to her curvy flesh and an array of weapons cleverly stored inside her skirts instead of focusing on the danger ahead. He met her gaze.
“Try to stay alive, Dorian. Do not get distracted.”
He looked her up and down one more time. “You ask the impossible, Lilly.”
The wicked look she gave him was almost as enticing as the curve of her leg. She turned and climbed up the rock-strewn hill to the right. He followed, making an effort not to admire her bare legs or the throwing knives strapped around her right thigh. When they reached the precipice, flames blazed as high as ten feet in the center of a clearing. Two demons fed the fire, one a small trebox with scaly dark skin and the other a larger, dumber malleus covered in slime. To the far left of the fire, three children huddled together. The smallest girl wept loudly while the other two tried to comfort her.
Alive! A surge of elation followed by a wave of fear assaulted him. Could he and Lillian keep those children alive?
The malleus stood as tall as the flames and sang in a low grating tone. Firelight reflected off its slimy skin as it tore a year old tree from the ground, roots and all. As if it were a twig, the malleus tossed it on the fire. Flames roared higher and his voice grew louder. Dorian knew nothing of the demon language, but the eerie cadence churned his guts.
The trebox slunk around the fire. He used two hands on a sword, carving symbols in the hard ground. This trebox had shed his human clothes, exposing his hunched back and visible ribcage.
A recent report had crossed his desk depicting a similar scene in England. When they completed drawing the runes, the innocents would be sacrificed. “They mean to open a gate. We only have until the song ends.”
Lillian’s eyes widened. She reached into the folds of her underskirt and released a small crossbow from its holster, chocked an arrow, and took aim. “We will need to move fast.”
“Ready.”
She let the arrow fly.
It pierced the malleus demon’s left eye, silenced the song mid-word, and dropped the enormous monster to the ground before he even had time to roar.
The trebox screamed in the language only demons understood. He took up the song his comrade had been chanting and wrote faster in the dirt.
Dorian pulled one throwing knife from the belt strapped around Lillian’s smooth skin. He jumped over the hill and ran down, dagger raised in his left hand.
The trebox rushed at him with its eyes focused on the long knife.
When