Hesi craned her neck at the niches bursting with books. In essence, they were sheets of parchment bound, and they hold stories within their pages. Mezo referred to the ones in his collection as fiction. "Not real history, but entertaining tales," the demon prince said about the tomes.

The talk stemmed from when she entered his quarters and found him slumped forward, slitted eyes glued to the pages. His forked tongue would flit between his lips in a quiet hiss at random intervals. He only looked up when she cleared her throat.

"What are you doing?" she asked, dropping into the empty cushion without his invitation. Similar to how she barged into Kharta's life, she now did in Mezophis'.

The prince shut the book with a heavy thud. "Reading," he answered.

She snorted. "What are you learning today?" She tapped a finger on the low table. It was the only thing separating them, but somehow, she didn't feel the need to run or cower from him. "It can't be fun."

A bewildered look passed across the demon prince's features. "Do not tell me that is how you see reading." He set the book aside, removing the finger he hooked between the pages. There went his marker. "Reading is...fun."

He learned the word after mulling about the feeling of happiness recently. She crossed her arms over her gossamer dress. The corners of her lips turned down. "Can't be," she argued. "You only read to learn, right? Those medical and information tomes bored me out of my mind. I dislike reading. Don't have the focus for it either."

It was true. When she entered Berheqt, she couldn't recognize a letter even if it clawed her eyes out. Thanks to Kharta and Tagara, she learned to read a few printed sentences at a time. But imagine reading pages after pages. Wouldn't that damage one's eyes, especially in this meager light?

"You can try one," Mezo said after a beat. "I know a great story you will like."

She scrunched her nose. "Story? Like the myths?"

The demon prince stuck a lip out. His fang glinted silver in the lamplight. "Close, but not quite," he replied. "These are fiction—tales of adventure and wonder. These stories did not happen as our history did, but our people wrote them."

"By 'our' you mean the Mayaware?" she clarified.

He chuckled. "There might be works from human authors in my collection."

She blinked. "You have a collection?"

"Why else do you think I have a spacious room?" He pushed off the table on his way up. She watched him stalk into the dark, glimpsing the shelves' niches. Was that why there stood leagues of them inside? "Let me look for it."

She stalked after him, approaching the nearest shelf. It stood two heads taller. Every niche boasted spines resembling the one on the table. And every shelf burst to the brim like this? Wow.

"Hmm, strange..." She heard Mezo mutter under his breath from the opposite side of the room. When did he get there? "I am certain I put it here."

She scratched the back of her neck. "I don't mind if I get it later," she said. "Let's just talk about something else. I don't know...fruits, maybe?"

Silence rode the dark waves. No quips came from the prince. Not even a confused filler he blurted whenever she changed the subject and he wanted to pursue the previous conversation to the ends of the earth. The sound of grating wood filled the air. What happened?

"Mezo?" She aimed to step forward when a low hiss froze her in place. What was that? Why did the darkness become thicker? She dropped into a stance, hands bracing the niche by her ear. "Hey, Mezo," she called again. A hearty hiss ripped from the darkness. "Sinn suphrei?"

"S...stay away." A strangled voice curled from the void, taking the guise of Mezo's gentle voice. A faint hiss laced around it. "Run."

She eyed the door. He stood in the way. Why would she run?

Something crashed. Her breath hitched. It came from the room's opposite end. Sheafs of parchment fluttered to the floor, disturbed from their perch. Loud bursts of metal clanging bloomed from the shadows. Shei pressed her hands to her ears to block the noise out. Fabric ripped, and the sound of skin stretching zipped to her senses.

"Mezophis?" She called for the last time as a pair of dark rubies shone in the faint lamplight accompanied by a stronger hiss. Then, the darkness ebbed, revealing a demon, its onyx skin out. A snake's body replaced the once-human torso, jutting from the torn tunic strewn around its waist. Scales. Frills. A forked tongue whipped out in hunger. Fangs stretched out and dripped with poison.

She edged back, her shin hitting the shelf. Porcelain ornaments jangled with the impact. The demon turned towards her. Oh, no.

When the demon stepped forward, a bushy tail swept out behind it. What? She squinted to ensure she saw it correctly. True enough, paws with sharp claws replaced the demon's bipedal legs—a trait only the mammalian Mayaware had. Her blood ran cold. What...what in Tjarma?

After another hiss, the demon lowered itself into a stance and lunged.

She pushed off the shelf and scrambled sidewards, throwing her arms over her head. Heart in throat, she glimpsed the demon's extended claw whizzing in her periphery. She had a full view of how shiny its obsidian skin was. Before she ends up in ribbons, she has to do something. Anything.

With gritted teeth, she skirted around the demon, found the low table among their cushions, planted her feet against it, and pushed. The wood hit the demon's furry legs, halting its advance when it whirled to chase her.

Run. Run. Run.

To where?

Her eyes scanned the room. Shelf. Vase. Exit. Rugs. She turned to the general direction of where she came from. Exit. Yeah. Mezo warned her to run. He always got her out by cutting their conversations short. Was it because of this?

A low growl rang. North. Maybe. Her heart leaped to her throat when she dodged an ivory fang aimed at her neck. She ducked, rolled, and straightened. Her back pressed against a wall. A solid wall void of shelves. Darpeh. This was bad. Where was she now? Which direction was the door? Damned gods. Why was it so dark?

The demon's ruby eyes flashed in the dark as it lunged for her again. She pumped her legs and scrambled to the left. The demon slammed into the spot she once occupied. The sound of metal hitting stone echoed, sending reverberations inside her skull. Her ears rang.

Exit. She should find one. Where was it?

She whipped left and right, straining her eyes to sift through the abyss, to carve out a sliver of the outside world signaling the exit. The demon's frills zipped into her vision's edge. Her fingers closed around the first thing they latched on and swung, bashing the demon with a porcelain vase. Shards rained on her bare skin upon impact, the sound another addition to the chaos in her mind. The demon shook its head—not even fazed—and lunged again.

She ran with no direction in mind. Her gossamer dress kept getting in the way. She gritted her teeth, grabbed the hems from the front and back, and yanked. The fabric tore, earning her the rabid demon's attention again. Larqet's crutches. Weak demons, she handled without problems, but when a freaking prince of the Mayaware attacked her, she left her fate to the gods even if she didn't believe in them.

She reached the shelf where Mezo was before this crude demon showed up. Perhaps something triggered him here? The smell of blood? A lone critter in the bricks' crevices? Hidden deshet branches?

The demon roared. Her brain swam when the waves hit. Darpeh, a little more, and her ears would bleed. She ducked under a swiping claw and flung herself behind a shelf. Perhaps the wood would give her a little protection. An onyx arm punched through the boards, disrupting an array of spines. Tomes clattered to the ground in heavy thuds. Well...maybe not.

She spun and planted her feet against the shelf's back and braced the stone wall behind her. Then, she pushed. The wood groaned as the shelf toppled forward, slamming onto the demon. Both flopped to the floor with a stringent crash. The demon growled and scratched against the books and trinkets raining down. That should hold it.

Door. Find the door.

Somewhere around here, a corridor bled from the wall. She tucked her arms beneath her breasts and broke into a run, mustering energy to her legs. It didn't matter if the stone cut her soles after every impact. She has to make it to the door.

Mensa's mangled body flashed into mind. Was this the secret the royal palace was so determined to keep? That their prince was a disfigured hybrid with little control over his demonic form? No wonder Mensa came out as such. She didn't even stand a chance. Hesi only lasted this long because she could look at a Mayaware in the eye and keep moving.

The wind stirred behind her, and she whirled a second later. Blood sprayed in the air in inky droplets. Hesi stumbled away, her arm burning. Hit. She was hit. Where was the demon? Something flashed, and she burst left as a stinging tail punctured a hole into the stone wall. What in Tjarma? Furry tails couldn't do that!

No choice. She stumbled away from the solid surface. If she dealt with a Mayaware, she wouldn't doom herself to a corner with nowhere to go. Her fingers pressed on her wound, feeling the warm liquid running down her skin before drizzling the floor.

An idea popped into her head. She pressed her hand harder. Her teeth dug on her lip to keep the whimpers in. She gathered enough slickness on her finger. Enough to paint the walls. She swept her fingers across the rough quarry as the demon's ruby eyes flashed again. It slammed into where she smeared her blood.

Mayaware's senses are heightened by night. Kharta's voice blasted in her ears along with the static ringing. She would have told her mind not now, but it gave her crucial information which might save her. It was daylight hours, which meant the demon's senses didn't work similarly after sundown. If she played her sticks correctly, she might get out without her guts kissing the warm, desert air.

She leaped into action—weaving in and out of the demon's way, smearing her blood on every inch of the wall she reached. With the scent of her blood thick in the air, it was harder for the demon to pinpoint her location. She could find the exit without having fangs and claws in her wake.

She passed the fallen shelves torn to splinters and whisked her blood at them. Hurry. With her head filled with humid breaths, eyes drooping without permission, and her legs losing strength, she has to. The deep growls, the thundering steps, and the clinks of claws against stone were her only cues telling her where the demon was. It probably thought she was everywhere and nowhere at once. As intended. She padded past the shelves and back into the corridor she reached earlier. The door should be at the end.

She gritted her teeth and, mustering the last of her strength, dashed forward. A few seconds in, and light from the guarded door's edges lined the shadows, giving back the stone walls their golden glow. Hope bubbled in Hesi's gut. She would make it. Just a little more.

A force slammed from behind, throwing her down. A dark blur whisked towards her face. Without thinking, she rolled to one side as an arm connected the spot she once was. Her chest heaved. Her breathing shook. The demon towered over her. Ruby eyes burned with hunger she never encountered before. Fangs dripped with olive poison.

Then, it lashed down.

She hooked a leg around the demon's furry paws and jerked. A rush of air followed as she rolled out of the way. The demon's steel-like body hit the ground with a solid crack. No need to hypothesize. It was probably the floor.

She shot up and resumed running. The growls and hisses bubbled a few steps behind. The door came closer. Twice. Knock twice. Her knuckles rammed against stone more than that as she threw herself forward, her forearm finding its target. "Open it!" She screamed, her throat drying up. It didn't matter if the demon picked out her location. "Help!"

Her gasp didn't leave her properly when the demon slammed into her again, throwing her against the door. Something flew out of her mouth, and her tongue registered the taste of rust. She crumpled to the floor, her skin feeling every particle of dust strewn on it. Not yet. She wouldn't die here.

This was not how she would go.

The demon reared its head and spread its frills. Without a sound, it rushed towards her neck. She swung, closing her fist until it landed on the demon's head. It did little except maybe shatter her fingers, but she got the demon's attention. "Stop it," she hissed, matching the sound coming from reptilian demons when they were pissed. "Stop."

The demon paused, its tongue flicking in and out of its outstretched mouth. A miracle. It was the only reason she came up with. Its ruby eyes didn't lose the glint of hunger, but it obeyed her. She extended an arm, stepping back slowlyy. She kept the demon in her sight. "Stay there," she said again. She didn't know how in Qer's name she did it, but she was glad it worked. "Don't come closer."

Stone groaned as the familiar drone of the slab opening filled the cavern. The demon sensed this. It lunged. "No!" She shrieked at no one, shielding her face. Strong hands wrapped around her arms and pulled. Her world whizzed as she went weightless before crashing against a warm body.

In the quarters' half-shrouded darkness, the demon shuddered, its limbs twitching as though they had two different masters. The onyx subsided, melting back into warm beige skin. Taking the demon's place, bracing himself on all fours, was Mezophis. It was over. He was back.

The Mayaware guards posted on the door turned to the prince who staggered up. The tips of their spears flashed in the sunlight. Then, they found a home in Mezo's back. Flesh squelched, and the sound of scales shattering echoed in the abyss. A gasp tore from Hesi's throat. What were they doing?

Someone tugged at her arm, yanking her away. She didn't budge. "Step away now." Kharta's voice was sharp and clear through the haze in her ears. Urgent. When did he get here? What was he doing here?

She stepped forward, dragging the weight holding her back. A flicker of pain, hate, and grief flashed in the prince's slitted eyes as the spear tips dug deeper into his body, forcing him back into the abyss. Mezo's gaze locked with hers, and with pleading eyes, he told one thing. Just one.

I do not want this. Get me out.

The stone door slid shut. She didn't uncover all the emotions sizzling on the demon prince's face, but there was more. There always was.

She was just too blind to see it.