“Tell me straight, Fatima,” I said, loudly enough for the older woman to hear. “Are we safe here?”
She came closer, her arms folded as she looked down at my father sadly. “Such a question, child,” she said. “Of course you’re safe here. I already told you we take care of our own. And besides—no one ever dies in Hell.”
I looked up at her, assuming she was talking about the demons’ immortality. I hoped she wasn’t exaggerating about the human village’s dedication to its members.
“Okay,” I said. “Well, we’re here now, and your hospitality is greatly appreciated. Do you think you could show me around the settlement? It’s... very different than what I’m used to on Earth. And if this is going to be our new home—” At least for now, I added mentally, “—then I’d better learn my way around.”
* * *
A couple of hours later, I’d met more people than I was ever going to be able to remember on the strength of a single introduction, and I had a much better feel for my surroundings. The village, if that was even the right word, was larger than I had originally thought. The place was like a cross between an ancient bronze-age culture and a hippy eco-village. Though I gathered they’d had extensive help from Hell’s powerful natives, the level of ingenuity involved in living off such a desolate land was still impressive.
In a place with essentially no rainfall, every drop of water was precious. Every scrap of waste, both human and animal, ended up as compost added back to the barren soil so that crops could be coaxed forth to feed the modest population. I saw no evidence of dogs or cats, but chickens seemed very popular. What water there was came piped in from higher elevations in the mountains.
The thing that struck me most was how... happy everyone seemed to be. Not ‘happy’ in the sense of laughter and gaiety, as such—but ‘happy’ in the sense of being content with one’s lot and knowing one’s place in the world.
It wasn’t a feeling I had much personal experience with, to put it mildly.
After ensuring that I had everything I needed and that I knew how to get in touch with her or one of the other Council members I’d met, Fatima gave my shoulder a final pat and left me to it. And there I was... alone with Dad for the first time in years.
Even in Dhuinne, I’d had Albigard in the next room, and the cat-sidhe looking me over with a watchful eye. Now, it was just the two of us. Frankly, it might as well have been just me.
Fatima had assured me that some of the more experienced elders would stop by over the next several days and see what they thought could be done for him. In the meantime, though, I was on my own. I now had a much greater appreciation for every person who’d ever had to take care of an invalid loved one, and to say I was feeling overwhelmed was an understatement.
It could have been worse, I told myself repeatedly. Dad could walk, and he would go where he was led for the most part. He could feed himself, though he had to be repeatedly reminded to take the next bite. We were—as far as I could tell from my brief stay so far—safe here.
And given the events of the past few weeks, that last one was kind of a biggie.
Even so, once the red-hued sun went down, none of it was enough to keep me from wanting to cry. For a long time, I lay on my simple pallet bed—one of two such beds in the hut’s back room—and fought the urge. Eventually, though, I asked myself why I was bothering. Who was I trying to impress? Myself? Dad? Ha. What a joke.
Unable to hold back the tears any longer, I let them trickle down my cheeks as I thought about everything—everyone—I’d lost. Some pathetic part of me that was still six years old hoped Dad would magically snap out of his fugue state to comfort me, upon hearing the quiet hitching of my breath from across the room. Another joke.
In the last twenty years, my father had expressed concern for me on precisely one occasion. And it was quite possible that on the occasion in question, he’d either been under the control of, or in league with, the Fae. Unsurprisingly, there was no reaction from the other pallet as I dripped tears and snot all over my lumpy pillow. I couldn’t tell if Dad was awake or asleep, but at this point it hardly mattered.
He was sleepwalking through life, regardless. I needed to be careful that I didn’t end up doing the same.
* * *
The following morning dawned cool and dry, though the red sun already held the promise of heat. Despite my post-crying headache, I got Dad situated in his chair and went to draw a fresh bucket of water from the nearest public spigot.
When I returned, Myrial was seated in a second chair across from Dad’s, examining him as though he were the most interesting thing she’d ever seen.
“Erm...” I said uncertainly, setting the bucket down inside the door.
Myrial looked up. “Oh, hello dear. Settling in all right, I take it?”
Her eyes took in my appearance in a single glance. This wasn’t the sort of place where one wore makeup, and I hadn’t even bothered to scrub a wet cloth over my face yet. I had no doubt that my puffy eyes and splotchy complexion advertised to the world that I’d spent last night blubbering like a little girl, but until this moment, I honestly hadn’t cared.
Suddenly, I did.
“Oh, yeah—we’re doing great here,” I lied. “Lovely place, I can see why the demons like it so much. So... um... what are you doing here, exactly?”
She looked
