Page 134 of Reap & Sow

“Should you give fifty years to another demon, and Eda killed that same demon by her own hand, she would regain what was lost.”

“I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“Ha! Of course not. What self-respecting demon wants to give away such longed-for tribute? It is a dead art, and poorly regarded besides. But no less possible.”

“But how?” Eda said. Her blood thrummed with hope, yet she dared not nurture it.

“We’d have to hunt down another demon,” Kit said. “With no Gateways still known to us, we might never find one. And we’d need them to be foolish enough to take the gift of fifty years without suspecting some trick.”

“You don’t need to trick anyone, Kit’rath. And I take offense to being called foolish.”

Robin unclasped her golden necklace. As it fell into her palm, the air shimmered, not unlike a summer haze rising off hot metal. Robin’s olive skin bled gray. A spade-tipped tail unraveled behind her. Short, stumpy horns sprouted between her gray hair. And her eyes turned the loveliest shade of burnished gold.

Eda gripped Kit’s arm, fearing her legs might give out. He was stiff beneath her touch.

They stared.

“You’re…”

“Yes.” Robin traced the point of her ear, almost self-consciously. “Though I haven’t adopted this form in some time.”

Eda’s thoughts took flight like a dancing flock of birds. All the times she’d wondered over Robin’s magical ability, her easy acceptance of the demonic, her obscure knowledge and potent, uncanny presence…

“How?” Kit lurched toward her, scanning her from head to toe. “How could I not have—”

“Don’t be hard on yourself, young one. I told you. My enchantments are very good. I was never greatly blessed with power—not as you noble types tend to be—but in this world, I make for a competent alchemist. This necklace works much the same as your Ring of Shielding. It helps me maintain a human form with little effort. I was most pleased with myself when I finished it.”

Eda asked, “But…why? Why did you leave Infernus? You’ve been hiding here, just like Kit.”

Kit nodded. “I thought I was the only one.”

Robin’s expression turned melancholy. “My story is not one you need hear. All you should know is that I was not hiding, and you are not the first to fall in love with a mortal, Kit’rath Ansellis. My Oriana died many years gone. I knew she would eventually. I just hoped we might grow old together first.”

Oriana. Eda thought of a little blue barge. Of a wistful warning shared upon its stern—one born of experience. Demons and humans have more in common than either might acknowledge, but our differences are legion. To surmount such odds requires…sacrifice.

Her heart clenched.

“Robin is the name she gave me,” the demoness continued. “Her favorite bird. I abandoned my old self to be with her, to live a mortal life. I would do it again. A single day with her was worth a hundred lifetimes. But perhaps that is something you now understand, Kit’rath.”

Kit gripped Eda’s hand, fingers threading through her own. “You’re offering to take those fifty years. To…” His voice was pained.

Eda wished she could pretend she did not understand again. But she did. “Robin, you can’t.”

“Of course I can.” Robin cupped Eda’s face. Despite the claws, her calluses felt just the same: rough with years of weaving magic into the mundane. “Long have I waited to join my Oriana, but I knew she would not thank me for ending myself in an act of mindless grief. This, however…” Her smile was soft and secretive. “I think she would understand.”

Eda panicked. “We—we don’t have to do anything now, do we? I still have some time. We can figure out another way, find another demon—”

“Kit’rath has already pointed out the foolishness of that endeavor. Do not risk your life for an old woman who has lived hers already. You will do this thing, Eda Shaw, here and now, before I lose my mettle.” Her voice did not shake, but her hold on Eda tightened as though she braced against a furious tide.

Eda’s throat closed like a clam. She threw herself into Robin’s arms. Why? Why must everything good come at such a steep cost?

The demoness hugged her back. “There, there, lamb. I have lived long enough, but your time is just beginning. I daresay no one deserves it more.”

Eda did not remember her mother. She’d never felt another woman’s embrace, never been held by an elder who might guide her, care for her. But here in Robin’s arms, she thought this must be very close. “Thank you for everything,” she breathed into the woman’s shoulder. “Thank you, Robin. Thank you.”

When Eda pulled away, Kit took her place. Robin huffed in shock as the taller demon swept her up in a great bear hug. Her toes barely touched the ground. Their horns knocked together.

“Silly youngling,” she said fondly.