She breathed in sharply from the heat that spread like wildfire from his palm, through her back, and down her legs.
“I’m fine!” she almost shouted before pushing him aside and hurrying down the steep staircase after the monk’s fleeting light.
The bottom of the stairwell opened into a room full of countless shelves of texts and scrolls. Some, which she derived to be of the highest importance, were chained to the wall.
The monk lit the various lanterns, allowing light to filter through the room, and whispered something to Garren before heading back up the long spiral stairs.
“So, why do you want to look at these texts?” she asked. The place had the mingling smell of ink and cedar. The flames of the lanterns danced over the books making them look as if they were moving upon the shelves.
“I wish to learn about your town’s history, of the Phantom Wood and the legends that I’ve heard surrounding this place,” he said as he moved to the closest shelf and began thumbing through a few of the texts.
“What sort of legends have you heard?” Oriana wandered to the wall of chained books, glancing at the titles for anything intriguing.
“I was told of a centuries old beast that attacks your town on the eve of the blood moon. It is thought to live in the forest, hibernating until it is ready to feast again.” Oriana felt the blood drain from her face.
“How did you hear of this? Who told you the story of the beast?”
Sardorf had been kept in isolation for hundreds of years. She had always assumed the outside world–the rest of Svakland–had forgotten it even existed, or even assumed it had been destroyed much like Elscar. It was better that way. Safer.
“I met a man who had lived here his whole life. He made it through the forest and told me of the demon. Do you know the legend?”
Oriana was glad he couldn’t see her face. He had met a man from Sardorf? How had someone made it through her forest? Could it be that her enchantments were weakening? It was impossible, and yet here the possibility stood right in front of her, looking as if he fell straight from the cosmos–the perfect specimen of a man. It was disconcerting to say the least. She would have to reinforce her enchantment over the forest.
“Yes,” she finally responded. “But that’s just a tale that the townsfolk tell their children to keep them from going and getting lost in the forest.”
“Hmm,” Garren mumbled, continuing to search through the texts.
She turned and sauntered toward him. “Why are you so interested in demons?”
He chuckled in that low rumbling way that made her entire body shiver. “I could ask you the same question, you know.”
“Well, I haven’t seen any demons. I didn’t even know they existed outside of Sardorf before you mentioned them.” She instantly realized her mistake and snatched a book from the shelf beside her to hide her face from his view.
“So, you’ve encountered a demon in Sardorf, then?” He glanced at her, raising an eyebrow in that cocky way that was beginning to bother her.
“Well, no, but I did say I know of the legend. It’s been a part of our town's history for a long time.” Oriana flopped onto a small step stool next to the shelf she had been looking at, opening the tome on her lap. “Too long,” she mumbled under her breath.
“And you believe it?” he prodded, a few books already in his hand, ready for his perusal.
“I… well, I…” she stammered before stopping and spearing him with her gaze. This man had a funny way of being able to make her say things she didn’t want to. He could pry information from her with the snap of a finger. No one had been able to do that since…well since Haldis, she supposed. That woman knew everything about her–more than she wished her to know.
“What do these demons you have faced look like?” She needed to find out more about them. She needed to understand what exactly he meant by the word demon.
“The first demon I ever faced was actually quite beautiful.” Garren’s voice carried over the shelves. “It had black flowing hair, and pale sparkling skin. Anyone would have been taken with the creature, in fact my father was, but somehow, I saw past the beauty, to the demon that lingered beneath. I was just ten years old.”
She scrunched her brows together trying to place his description. That hadn’t been her. Could it have been another cursed being? But the black hair wouldn’t have been…
“What exactly did it look like? Can you describe it in more detail?”
He didn’t even hesitate or question her in return before saying, “Its eyes were large and feline, purple at first, but then they turned black, the entire eye, like a starless night. Its ears were slightly elongated, pointed at the tips. And its mouth…” He paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. “When it smiled, it spread open from ear to ear, revealing several rows of sharp, long curved teeth almost like a sharks.”
Oriana sat very still, every hair on her body raised. He was describing a Phalik, a creature that should not be here.
“Can you describe any others that you have faced?” she called back to him, to wherever he was in the endless collection of books.
Garren’s head jutted out from behind a shelf to look her in the eye. His body soon followed as he walked toward her, carrying a pile of books that was taller than he was. “Yes, I can, but not until you tell me why you are so interested in them.”
She grunted in vexation. “Does it matter?”
