A Den of Tricks (A Shade of Vampire #54)(46)

I started reading entire passages from the notebook, instinctively looking at Heron whenever fact and fiction met in the middle.

“Heron,” I muttered, “this is supposed to be a collection of myths and legends…”

“And the truth seems stranger than fiction?” He sighed, giving me a faint smile, while Lemuel kept scouring his archives for anything we could use regarding the daemons.

“No, that’s the thing. This is supposed to be fiction, but everything I’ve read so far is real… what the daemons look like, what they feed on, where they hunt,” I replied. “Even their underground cities and their use of magic, which the Imen identify as ‘foreign power’.”

Heron frowned, then moved closer to me so he could read, too. His eyes wandered across the pieces of text for a while.

“I see they mention the armored daemons here… the hierarchy in their cities, along with Seven Princes and a King Shaytan,” he breathed, then looked up at Lemuel. “Lemuel, is all this meant to be lore?”

The old Iman stopped his search and straightened his back, groaning from physical discomfort.

“Yes, just… just ancient mythology, at least two thousand years old. Tales passed on from one generation to another, scribbled down by the few Imen left behind in Azure City who could write,” he replied, taking a seat on a nearby stool. Its wooden legs creaked under his weight.

“A lot of the stuff in these scrolls and books is true, though,” Heron said. “At least, as far as we’ve seen, in the Valley of Screams.”

Lemuel thought about it for a second, then put on a half-smile.

“Don’t tell the other Imen, then.” He sighed. “It’s bad enough they’re being taken away by these invisible beasts. If you tell them they’re organized and whatnot, it’ll scare them to death.”

“Tell me something, Lemuel,” I asked. “How come there is so little written history of your people?”

“Well, it all goes back to the founding of Azure Heights,” the old Iman replied, scratching the back of his head. “The majority of Imen in the region chose to live beyond the gorges, away from the Maras’ new city. At the time, there were millions of Imen inhabiting the planet, so we didn’t think much of the newcomers settling on the mountain. Those of us left behind, however, didn’t know how to read or write—most of us, anyway. There were a couple of scholars among us. We went into servitude and learned to coexist with the Maras, while the rest of our people died out in the world.”

“But why? How do millions just die out?” I frowned, unable to wrap my head around the mysterious demise of nearly an entire species. “The daemons ate their souls, or what?”

“That’s what the lore says, yes.” Lemuel nodded slowly, sadness pulling the corners of his mouth down. “I’ve only been around for some decades, milady. All I have to work with are these pieces of paper, as far as the past of my people goes… and it’s mostly legends and tales. I’m afraid I don’t know anything else beyond that.”

There were still many unanswered questions weighing down on us, but at least we were getting somewhere with all these searches. We were getting some answers, even though each left the door open to more unknowns.

“There’s one thing we know for a fact,” Heron said, his eyes fixed on me, as if he’d just read my mind. “The Maras are mind-bending the Imen on a much broader scale than they’ve told us.”

“Which means they lied to us,” I concluded, my stomach turning.

“Our most burning question is why.” He raised an eyebrow. “But we need to find a way to ask it without arousing suspicion. Who do we talk to about this?”

“My money’s on Arrah. Once she takes her brother to safety, I’m sure she’ll be able to shed some light on the matter.”

Heron nodded, then briefly glanced at Lemuel before shifting his intense focus back to me.

“I think we should try another exploratory mission once Harper and the others are back,” he said, a playful twinkle settling in his pale green eyes. “We could find the tribes beyond the gorges and hear what they have to say about all this.”

“You know what?” I replied with a smirk. “For a guy who prides himself on, and I quote, ‘not liking the overly brainy stuff much’, your words, not mine… you’re a pretty smart cookie.”

“You’re rubbing off on me, that’s all.” Heron gave me a warm smile, lighting me up on the inside. I couldn’t help but return it, feeling my lips stretch and my heart sing. Even our banter was taking on a sweet tone, and… I loved it.

“Are you two married?” the old Iman asked, his question crashing into me like a bucket of icy water. I nearly broke into a sweat trying to answer that. Why am I having trouble answering that?

Heron and I stared at him for a couple of seconds, then looked at each other and almost simultaneously cleared our throats.

“No, we’re not,” Heron replied. “We’re part of the same team, and that’s it—”

“Oh, please!” Lemuel gave us a dismissive wave of his hand. “The longer you deny it, the faster you two are going to burn. My wife and I did the same and wasted ten years before we got together. Both of us were too proud to take the first step, and… well, that’s a decade we could have spent loving each other.”