As they headed east, Calladia explained that the first part of the quest, at least, wouldn’t be too bad. Because of the steep hills and mountains bordering Glimmer Falls to the east, there was only one road leading that way. It wound up a slope between the area’s famed hot springs, then dipped into the next valley. Halfway down the hill was a pullout that led to a decent camping spot near a stream.
Astaroth liked the sound of that stream. They both smelled like smoke, and he wanted to wash the remaining soot out of his hair. Granted, it would be followed by sleeping on the ground like an animal, but at least he’d be a clean animal.
The forest surrounded them, trees interlacing overhead and blocking out the night sky. Calladia’s headlights provided the only illumination, highlighting the twists of the road as they rose in elevation. Periodically, the beams caught something in the woods: a plume of steam rising from the ground, the scaled green loop of a snake dangling from a branch, a flash of movement that set the bushes rustling.
It was a beautiful area, vibrant with life and magic. He might have enjoyed exploring if it wasn’t for the situation, but right now he only wanted three things: his memory, a bath, and a sword. Moloch’s severed head would be a bonus, but as that was unlikely to fall in his lap, he focused on more attainable things.
“Do you know where to get a sword?” he asked Calladia.
“Yes.”
Astaroth perked up. “Can we go there?”
“Nope.” She gave him a sardonic look. “I may be helping you find Isobel, but I’m not going to arm you.”
“How else will I behead Moloch?”
“Did you miss the super successful and scary swordsman part? Ozroth says he’s better than you.”
Astaroth scowled. “Don’t underestimate my ability with a blade. I have at least one foggy memory of wreaking havoc on a battlefield.”
“Cool story, bro,” she said. “Let me know when you spot a battlefield.”
The witch was mean. Oddly, Astaroth didn’t find it upsetting. He eyed her profile, amused that someone with the bone structure of a storybook princess had the manners of a feral cat. She was full of contradictions, which made Astaroth want to learn everything about her. “You’d be fearsome on a battlefield, too,” he said. “Eviscerating enemies right and left with that sharp tongue.”
“I’m going to eviscerate you with more than my tongue if you don’t shut up and let me drive.” Her lips had quirked at his comment though.
Astaroth settled against the seat, satisfied at having provoked the smile from her. “Very well. My vow of silence begins now.”
“How long will it last?” she asked.
He made a show of considering. “At least . . . two minutes.”
Calladia made a stifled snorting sound. “Don’t make me gag you.”
“Kinky,” he said, biting his lower lip. “Will you tie me up, too?”
“Yep, I’ll tie you to a tree in the woods overnight. It’s supposed to rain.”
Astaroth shivered. Tent camping was bad enough. “I’m shutting up.”
Calladia smirked. “Atta demon.”
TWELVE
Despite his grumbling about sleeping outdoors, Astaroth proved adept at helping set up the tent. Calladia hammered in a stake by the light of a glowing orb she’d conjured, sneaking glances at him. His brow was furrowed with concentration as he threaded a pole through the orange rain fly.
It felt odd to work together like this. Sure, they’d fought Moloch and fled together, but that hadn’t been an organized effort. This was a smaller, more domestic task, and the way he took direction and anticipated what tools she needed was honestly kind of nice.
“I would kill for a bath,” Astaroth said once the tent was assembled. He wiped his forehead. “There’s soot caked in unmentionable areas.”
Calladia retrieved her bugout bag from the back seat of the truck and dug through it until she found wet wipes and dry shampoo. “Here,” she said, tossing them over. “Better than nothing. The stream’s down the slope.” Once he was done, she’d take a turn.
“I’ll return shortly.” Astaroth scooped up the bag of clothes she’d bought him and a battery-powered lantern and disappeared into the forest.
Calladia turned to scan the woods opposite. This wasn’t an official campground, just a secret spot she and Mariel had discovered that was barely large enough for a tent. Calladia breathed in the scent of pine trees and sighed, shoulders relaxing for maybe the first time that day.