Demon Queened Ch. 04

"Ah..." I started, then stopped. My throat felt like there was a solid lump of something dry caught in it, and no matter how I swallowed, I couldn't get it down. Everyone was staring at me. They weren't hostile glares, merely confused and curious looks, and yet they had me pinned like a butterfly beneath glass.

"I ah..." I coughed faintly, then thumped a hand against my chest as if trying to clear away some congestion. "I am Eena. I am on a... ah..." The world seemed to slow for a moment as I realized that I had failed to come up with a ready-made excuse for traveling about without an escort or any luggage. My mind started to race, but all I could come up with was a rather pathetic excuse. "I'm on a journey of self-improvement, seeking to increase my strength by living off the land. But uh. The land got wet, so I thought I might come inside until it dried off."

For a moment, the inn was utterly silent. Everyone simply stared at me, no doubt turning my words over and over in their heads. Which was honestly a better reception than I deserved, with a lie like that one. If I'd been in their shoes, I'd have tossed the stranger out on her ear.

"It must have been hard," one of the men rumbled, after a moment, sliding off his stool and onto his feet. He had broad shoulders, and his well-muscled arms went fairly thick on the hair. "A girl like you, out in the cold and the rain. Why don't I buy you a drink? Maybe some food. Get you nice and warmed up. We can have a conversation about what it's like, living off the land."

I'd never actually been hit on by a man, in this life or my last, but it seemed that particular vein of good fortune had just been depleted. Still, I hesitated, caught between relief that this green-haired man wasn't pressing my story and irritation that he was only accepting it because he wanted in my pants. Being around humans meant being around men, though, some of whom would inevitably flirt with me. I'd simply have to shut them all down as firmly as I could.

"...Thank you, but I can buy my own food and drink," I told him, at last.

"You sure?" the man pressed, leaning forward a little. "Tasha runs a pretty pricey establishment. You didn't hear it from me, but I think she overvalues her stew a bit."

"I'm quite certain," I confirmed, trying not to flinch. It was important to remain firm when turning a man down. Even the relatively nice ones could prove shockingly stubborn if you gave them false hope.

"Well, if you're that determined to pay for your own meal," the gentleman grumbled, settling back down on his stool.

"I am," I confirmed, again, giving him a firm nod. Even though I absolutely wasn't. Actually, I wasn't sure how I was going to pay at all. It was embarrassing to admit, but I'd never actually handled my own cash during my life as Devilla. As a result, I'd all but forgotten that managing one's own money was a thing, to begin with. I had taken some coins from the treasury but, even if I could pass my demonic currency off as human coinage, there was the small fact that all of it was stamped with a likeness of my own face. I also had a couple gemstones meant for trading, but my brief walk through the village didn't lead me to believe these people had anything so niche as a jeweler on hand.

"Alright, alright," Sir Green Hair agreed, "but don't come crying to me when your wallet's empty at the end of the night, you hear?"

"Oh, let it go, Jackson!" a blue-haired woman cried out, slamming her fist against the table with enough force to send her mug rattling. Or at least I thought it was a mug. It appeared to be made of leather, held together by tar. A blackjack, perhaps? I'd never seen one before, but I'd read about them during my previous life as part of a late-night wiki dive.

"After three rejections, even you should be able to get it through your thick head that she isn't interested," the woman continued, grabbing hold of her mug and taking a long swig before slamming the leather vessel back down on the table. "Besides, I think the local girls you're already sleeping with might have a few objections to you hounding a stranger."

"I'm not mad," volunteered a blonde woman, sitting on Jackson's left. "But I think I'll be spending a little more time with Thomas and Ashton than I usually do if you catch my meaning."

"And I'll be spending extra time with Dina," added the girl sitting across from Jackson. She had purple hair, blue eyes, and crossed arms. While the first girl's face was a careful mask of neutrality, this one was scowling fiercely in Jackson's direction.

"W-Wait a minute," Jackson stammered, holding up his hands in a defensive gesture. "You don't think I actually meant anything by all that, do you? I was just trying to be a gentleman. She's not even my type! You know I prefer more vibrant hair colors!"

"You really are soaked," Miss Blonde Hair commented, eyeing me up and down. "Between that and the fact that you seem to be missing about half your clothes, you must be fairly chilled."

"Yeah," Miss Purple Hair added. "Why don't you take a seat at the table and order up some stew? I think Jackson was about to offer up his stool."

"Like hell I was!" Jackson protested. "There's an empty seat right next to me."

"That's funny. Do you see any empty stools on this side of the table, Lissera?"

"Why no, I don't. In fact, I'm pretty sure the only empty seats are the ones next to the kitchen. And we wouldn't want to make this poor, soaking wet woman walk all the way down there, now would we, Monica?"

Both girls turned their eyes toward Jackson as they spoke. Lissera was glaring daggers, but it was the look on Monica's face that sent a shiver down my spine. She had a faint smile on her lips as if she were mildly amused by the whole situation, but her gaze was set to a temperature best reserved for freezers.

"...Show a little concern for a stranger, and suddenly you're out in the cold," Jackson muttered, standing. His voice was pitched low, and his words were mumbled, likely not even loud enough for Monica to hear from her position right beside him. My ears picked it up all the same, though, if only because I was listening for it. Despite his anger, his muttering didn't sound like the sort that would cause me any trouble. Indeed, he was obediently trudging toward the end of the table.

Of course, that left me standing at the front with about a dozen stares focused in my direction.

"...Well?" Monica asked me after a moment, gesturing to the now-vacated stool. The faint smile was still on her lips, but now the amusement was actually reflected in her eyes. "Are you going to take a seat, or aren't you?"

"Hold on," Lissera protested, standing up from her seat and walking toward me. I stood stock-still as she strode toward me, eyeing her warily. I hoped she wasn't planning to blame me for the situation. I didn't think I'd done anything wrong, but if she kicked up a fuss, it was entirely possible the other villagers would take her side on the matter.

A prickly sensation ran across my entire body for a moment, and I realized with a start that the woman's magic was washing over me. It didn't feel very powerful; nothing I couldn't defend against, at the very least. But if I fought back, it would require dropping the illusion on my hair. The only other defensive option available to me, though, was to incapacitate the caster through physical methods. I had the feeling that wouldn't go over well with the other villagers, either.

The prickling intensified, and I realized with a start that I was already too late. The spell was being cast, and I'd have no choice but to endure it at this point. Thankfully there didn't seem to be enough power in this spell to deal any real damage to me, but I still didn't like the idea of taking this woman's scorn when none of this was my fault.

Except, instead of a rush of pain or a blast of heat, the sensation I felt was... Dry? The water that had been clinging to my body was suddenly pooled at my feet, spreading outward across the floor. And Lissera, who'd done it, was smiling in front of me.

"...Thank you," I managed, after a moment of staring at her in shock. "I'm afraid I ran through my magic capacity while trying to escape the storm..."

"Well, hey, it's nothing special," Lissera protested, smiling brightly at me. "It's not nearly enough to apologize for Jackson, anyhow. He's a good lay, but I swear he's the absolute worst to be around - err... No offense, Monica," Liserra hurried to add, shooting a worried glance at the blonde woman.

"It's fine," Monica replied, with a sigh, shaking her head sorrowfully. "I know I'm the only one in town fool enough to actually date the man."

"I think everyone but Jackson knows that," Lissera responded, with a laugh, slapping at her thigh.

"But seriously," Liserra continued, tucking a bit of hair behind her ear as she smiled at me, "Jackson's as much my lay as her boyfriend. I feel a bit responsible. Let me buy you a bowl of stew to make up for it?"

"Well... I am rather low on funds," I admitted, begrudgingly moving toward the stool. I lowered myself carefully onto the flat wooden surface, glad that my ass provided a little of the cushioning that my seat was reluctant to give.

"Hey, Tasha!" Lissera yelled out, directing her gaze to an open door toward the back. "Can you put another bowl of your famous stew on my tab? We've got a hungry traveler here."

"Aye, and a cute one, too, from all the fuss everyone's making!" a loud voice called back. A moment later, what I could only assume was the innkeeper emerged from the backroom. Tasha was a somewhat portly, middle-aged woman with short-cropped brown hair that stopped directly at her neck's nape. Her arms seemed more thick with fat than muscle, yet she was somehow supporting a large cask on one shoulder, with one hand, and holding a wooden bowl in the other. She placed the meal on the table in front of me and then deposited the cask on the floor with a heavy thud. "Who wants a refill?"

Several of the leather mugs were lifted into the air, and Tasha began the task of gathering and refilling them. That seemed to mark the end of Staring at the Stranger time, as the majority of them quickly went back to their food and drinks.

"So what brings you to our little out of the way village?" Lissera asked me, just as I was reaching out to pull my stew closer.

"Like I said, I'm on a journey of self-improvement," I told her, reluctantly turning my attention away from the stew. I was actually getting fairly hungry, but there was something about what Lissera said that intrigued me. "I thought this road was fairly popular, though?"

"Popular?" Lissera let out a short, derisive laugh. "Maybe fifteen years ago. I don't really remember it, but we supposedly got a lot of merchants back before the kingdom completed that road through the Dorrin Plains. Whoever told you that we're popular now was either messing with you or incredibly out of date.

But anyway, I'd rather talk about you than this dusty old place," Lissera informed me, with a smile. "You keep saying you're on a journey of self-improvement, right? Well, what are you trying to improve?"

"I don't know myself," I told her, shrugging my shoulders. "My mother's last wish was that I travel the world and discover my place in it."

"I. I see," Lissera whispered, eyes wide. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"It's fine," I promised, trying not to grimace at her earnest reply. I'd only told the best lie available to me. It was simple enough to remember and vague enough that I wouldn't have to come up with a bunch of details. On top of that, I suspected people would be unwilling to strictly question me on any subject that involved a dead parent. I did feel a bit guilty for using my mother that way, but I didn't think she'd mind if it kept me from being discovered.

It still didn't feel great to be playing on people's sympathies, though.

"I'm sorry for your loss," Monica said, speaking up from beside me for the first time since I'd sat down. There was a distant look in her eyes as she spoke to me as if she wasn't entirely present in the conversation. After a second, however, her gaze focused on me. "I do have to ask, though. If you're traveling on your lonesome, without funds, and with no apparent wares, just how are you supporting yourself?"

"Well, I've mostly been doing odd jobs in return for lodgings," I told them, relying on my experience as Devilla to smoothly lie. "But I'm actually thinking of joining the adventurer's guild next time I'm in a big city. Maybe start taking on some jobs..."

"The adventurer's guild?" Lissera asked me, voice breathy and excited. "I mean, I guess that makes sense. I knew you were strong the moment you walked in - just the fact that you're traveling alone in horned wolf territory shows that."

"Horned wolf territory?" I asked, brow furrowing. "You mean those beasts are actually near the town?" I didn't actually know much of anything about horned wolves. There were no horned wolf monster girls, so far as I knew, and if my teachers had ever brought them up, then I hadn't been paying attention. Still, it was relatively easy to guess what they were, and having them near a human settlement hardly seemed favorable.

"You didn't know?" Lissera asked, mouth opening into a small "o" of surprise. "I guess the word's still spreading. The merchants certainly learned it fast enough, though. Not that we ever got many of them down here, but now we aren't getting any..."

"It's something of a problem," Monica contributed, frowning. "We grow plenty of food to support ourselves, but we're not entirely self-sufficient. If we can't sell our crops or spend our money... Well. One of the villagers actually had a horse, old as it was, so they're taking it down to Mirral - the city down south, I mean. He'll be putting up a request at the adventurer's guild, actually."

"I see," I murmured, noncommittally. This wasn't my problem. It was a human concern. And I wasn't even an adventurer, yet, so I had no place taking on their requests for them, besides. Still. "How many of them are there?"

"We don't know," Lissera confessed. "Nobody's really gotten a good count. But we hear the howling at night. And we saw how they descended on the last merchant who actually dared to come down here..."

"They sound... Aggressive," I commented, again trying to keep as noncommittal as possible. This really, truly, absolutely wasn't something I needed to stick my nose into. Just because Liserra used her magic to dry me and bought me stew. It was all an apology for that asshole boy toy of her's, anyway. I was under no obligation to do anything at all.

I kept repeating that in my mind, but it didn't stop my stomach from churning.

"I do hope you aren't planning anything, Miss Eena," Monica remarked, reaching out to grab my bowl and pulling it closer to me. "Twenty wolves isn't anything a would-be adventurer should tackle solo."

"That's right," Liserra chimed in, grabbing hold of the wooden spoon and handing it to me. "You're not even an adventurer yet, anyway, right? Just focus on staying safe tonight. And hey, if you don't have a place to crash, there's always my place."

"...Thank you," I told Lissera, forcing myself to give her a faint smile. "I'll consider it." I was planning to head home as soon as the rain broke, but it didn't hurt to be polite when the girl was making such an obvious effort to be welcoming.

Truthfully, I had lost my appetite. But Lissera had paid for my meal, and I thought it would be rude not to eat it, so I stuck my spoon in the bowl and pulled up a chunk of something, drenched in a thick, creamy white liquid. Steam was rising up from my meal, so I blew lightly on the stew before bringing it to my lips.

It was hot. Tragically underseasoned. And, as I'd feared, entirely devoid of salt. Despite that, I immediately drove my spoon back into the bowl and pulled out another of the little chunks. Not even bothering to blow on it anymore, I shoved that and several more bites into my mouth until I was sure without a doubt.

"This," I declared, gesturing to the stew, "has potatoes in it. Doesn't it?"

"I'm surprised you know what those are," Monica remarked, raising a single eyebrow.

"That's right!" Lissera volunteered, smiling brightly in contrast to Monica's faint frown. "They're our village's specialty. They aren't really native, but they still grow pretty damn well!"

I didn't reply, choosing instead to finish the stew before pushing the bowl away. Then I pushed back my stool and stood. "Well then. It seems I have a wolf problem to deal with."

"What are you talking about?" Monica demanded. "This request is meant for an entire party to handle. There's no way you can do it by yourself."

"That's right," Lissera confirmed, nodding vigorously. "Besides, we all sent as much money as we could spare with Trevill. There wouldn't be anything in it for you."

"Is that so?" I asked them, a small smile slipping across my lips. I was aware of multiple eyes on me, as the townsfolk once again ceased their conversation to see what the stranger was up to. This time it didn't bother me, though. In fact, it was perhaps for the best that they all heard what I had to say.

"Very well!" I declared, projecting my voice. "I've made up my mind. I will save this town from the pack of currs that threaten it."

"But we really can't reward you for it," Lissera protested, again, as murmuring broke out among the gathered townsfolk.

"But you can," I promised her, a smile slipping across my features. "You'll simply have to pay me in potatoes."