Only two days had passed until the fish finally contacted Aamon.
‘We only know that He still plans to kill Minerva. He has changed positions and plans to attack on the Summer Solstice, when Minerva’s powers are at her weakest.’
“They know everything else except, where He is?” Minerva questioned after Aamon repeated what the two catfish had told him.
“Pretty much. But, at least we know when He’s going to attack.”
“No, we need to know where He is,” Minerva argued. She was already packing a small knapsack with jars, wraps of ingredients, and her spell book. She hastily strolled over to the trunk sitting in front of her bed. Opening it up, she found a few slightly tattered dresses.
One of these will have to do, Minerva thought and pulled out the less tattered one.
“Where are you going?” Aamon stopped her in her tracks of closing the trunk.
“Not just me. You’re coming with me.” The witch laid the dress on her bed and turned back towards Aamon.
Aamon furrowed his eyebrows. “Where are we going, exactly?”
“To my bookshop in the market,” Minerva answered as she stripped from her comfortable shirt and pants. “How do you think I pay for all the herbs I have?”
The demon’s eyes traveled up and down her bare figure. “Well…..”
“Gods! Aamon, I’m not a whore!” She shouted, watching Aamon fail in trying to hold in his laughter.
“You are so annoying,” the witch stated, once she slipped on the dress and pulled her unruly and natural black and red-highlighted curly hair into a side braid.
“Still love you, too,” Aamon said cheerfully.
Minerva wrapped herself in her crimson red cloak and grabbed her bag. “Just c’mon. Crap, wait.”
The demon stopped in his tracks towards the front door and breathed a long and exaggerated sigh. “What’s wrong this time?”
“I need to do the face identity spell on you. I’ll be able to see the real you, but everyone else will see someone else.”
Minerva waved a hand over his face. “Mutatio.” (Change)
It was currently daylight, when the hooded pair began to trudge down the path towards the marketplace where all the other villagers were. The soft wind swept through both of their thin cloaks, the plant life surrounding their feet and back into the cool air surrounding them.
“Since you’ve been babysitting me this whole time, who’s been running your shop?” the demon questioned as they got closer to the village. They could see carriages and villagers from a few feet away.
With her face hidden underneath the hood of her cloak, Minerva barely looked up as her brown eyes met his red ones. “I have a young boy run the shop when I’m not there.”
Silence passed before the witch asked, “How did you end up getting taken for Him, anyways?”
“Uhh, the first night I didn’t come back,” Aamon watched as she nodded for recognition. “..was because he found me out in the woods and took me away. Knocked me out cold, too. I spent the first three years training and being one of his warriors. And the last few years, I’ve been on the run.”
The demon looked away from her.
Right as he was done speaking, they neared the entrance to the market of the village.
Yet there was still a simple question lurking in the witch’s mind, Why didn’t Aamon try to escape from Him?Why did he stay for so long?
Something wasn’t adding up.