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August 25 - August 26, 2021
“Eshathē zh’ūltis.” He closed his eyes. “Īt eshanā zh’ūltis.” I waited to see if he would say anything comprehensible. “What does that mean?” “You are stupid … and I am stupid.”
“He protects me in exchange for baked goods. That’s … that’s the whole contract.”
At night, Amalia insisted he return to the infernus. I was glad she’d taken that stance because I hadn’t wanted to tell Zylas that neither of us could sleep with his crimson eyes glowing in the corner. He’d be delighted to learn he was extra terrifying in the dark.
“Because I’m zh’ūltis,” I muttered resignedly. A corner of his mouth pulled up. “I have been telling you that.” “Yes.” “You keep disagreeing.” “I did, but you were right all along.”
“Mercy is for the weak, payilas.” “The weak can’t afford mercy.” I met his eyes. “I think we can.”
“By the way, Robin,” he murmured. “The expression on your demon’s face when you called him your partner was fascinating.”
“In my world,” he said unexpectedly, “there is a type of … tree.” I faced him again, my brow furrowed in puzzlement. “On the tree, it grows small …” He cupped his hands as though holding something. “… small fruits. The outside is poisonous, deadly, but inside is juicy and sweet. We fight over these trees. I have killed to take the fruit when it is ripe.” He picked up another s’more cookie. “These are better.”
He thought my cookies were better than a fruit he’d killed to eat. My hands, submerged in soapy water, paused. I’d have to make sure no one ever tried to take food from him. It sounded dangerous.

