Why You Should Never Rescue Stray Demons Chapter 136

**OZ**

“Great. So, shall we go talk to Taryn now?” I ask, letting it come out cheeky on purpose. Everyone pauses. Just for a second. And through the weight of Vidar’s arm over my shoulders, I feel him tense up like I’d just suggested something outrageous. Kacia catches it instantly and grins, the kind of grin that says she’s about to make this ten times worse for him. From over at the car, Tracey’s voice booms muffled but gleeful.

“Hell yes!” His shout echoes, even through the steel of the boot he’s locked himself into. Even Clarence’s lips twitch into something that might technically be classified as a smile, though it vanishes in less than a heartbeat and never reaches his eyes. Still, after everything tonight, even that flicker feels like a miracle. I don’t know what’s supposed to happen next, whether we’ll march into another fight, or collapse in a heap, but I do know one thing. Clarence shouldn’t be left alone. Is he married? Does he have anyone? I honestly have no idea. I hope to hell he’s got someone at home who can comfort him, because I sure as shit don’t know how to. Vidar still hasn’t managed a word in response to my teasing, too busy radiating nerves, when I start dragging his massive, broken form through the ruins toward the patch of grass where Taryn’s collapsed. The closer we get, the tighter he grips that damn book in his hand, like it’s the only anchor he’s got left. When she sees us, Taryn springs to her feet, eyes wide, her whole posture caught between terror and relief, like a deer pinned in the glow of headlights. Her hands twist together at her chest, and she looks ready to both run and stay rooted forever. Kacia scrambles alongside me, her attention split. She keeps darting glances at Clarence, who’s clambering through the rubble slower than the rest of us, stubbornly refusing help. He looks like he’s seconds from collapsing where he stands, and I can tell it’s eating her up not to try and carry him herself. We reach the edge of the rubble, where the broken foundation line of the library used to be. Vidar halts, every muscle in his body going rigid. 

“You okay?” I ask, turning my head enough to catch his expression. He hesitates, breath rasping in his chest. 

“I’ve never been past here. It feels… Strange. Like a dream. Or a nightmare. I’m not quite sure which. It’s… Intimidating.” He confesses. I nod slowly, steadying him with my grip. 

“I can understand that. But… You can’t stay here.” I point out. He shuts his eyes, takes in a ragged, shaky breath, then lets it out. When he opens them again, there’s something braver in his face. 

“You’re right…” He murmurs. And with all the weight of someone stepping into a new life, Vidar leans into me and takes that first step out of the rubble.

We barely make it another two steps before Taryn snaps. She comes rushing forward, auburn hair streaming behind her like a banner. For a second, I’m convinced she’s about to launch herself straight into Vidar’s arms, but at the last moment she digs her heels in and stops short, skidding to a halt right in front of him. Her hands flutter uselessly at her sides, her eyes wide, fixed on him like he’s the only thing in the world. And then… Nothing. No words. No movement. Just the two of them staring at each other like the ground might open up and swallow them whole if they speak first. The silence drags on long enough that I start to feel awkward, and that’s saying something, because I’m holding half of Vidar’s weight. Then I hear a weird sound, loud and deliberate. After a second, I realize it’s Tracey clearing his throat. From inside the damn car. He does it again, louder this time, like he’s both announcing his presence and complaining that he can’t see the show. It’s so ridiculous I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. Kacia, of course, decides to take charge before the whole scene combusts in awkward silence. She strides up with that cheerful determination of hers and announces, 

“Vidar, since you haven’t met in person before, I’ll do introductions. This is Taryn. Taryn, this is Vidar.” Her voice is bright and steady, almost too bright given everything we’ve just been through. But I get it, this little spark of levity, this fragile moment, is a relief. A distraction. The grief and exhaustion are waiting just behind us, ready to smother everything the second we let our guard down. For now, she’s buying us a few breaths of air. Vidar swallows hard and opens his mouth. 

“Hel-” The word breaks out as a croak, raw and weak. Whether it’s from smoke, injuries, or sheer nerves, I can’t tell. He clamps his mouth shut, jaw tight, and I can practically feel him cursing himself in silence. He clears his throat awkwardly and tries again.

“Hello, Taryn. It’s… Nice to finally meet you in person.” His voice is rough, but it gets the job done. Taryn smiles, shy, almost hesitant. Which is amusing, because she sure as hell wasn’t shy when she introduced herself to me. 

“Nice to meet you properly, Vidar… Uhm… Are you okay?” She asks. He nods, though the way he’s leaning on me makes the answer laughable. 

“I’m fine.” He insists, trying to straighten his spine and look steadier than he is. Kacia swoops in again, giving him a graceful out. 

“But we should all sit down. It’s been a long night.” She suggests. 

“My garden.” Taryn blurts, seizing the chance to help. 

“You can all come sit in my garden until you’re ready to leave.” Her eagerness spills out in every word. I nod. 

“Lead the way.” I respond. And just like that, the strange, fragile little scene cracks into motion again.

You’d think after a night like this we’d all have a lot to say, but exhaustion wins out. We end up scattered across the lush grass of Taryn’s garden, which, mercifully, looks untouched by the fire. A fine film of ash lies over everything, carried on the breeze, but compared to the ruin we left behind, it feels like paradise. Cool. Quiet. Whole. None of us speaks much. The silence isn’t awkward, it’s heavy, worn, the kind that settles when everyone’s too wrung out to fill it. Vidar slumps with his back against the largest tree in the garden, the only spot sturdy enough to hold him. I don’t think he even realises it’s her tree. But Taryn… Oh, she definitely knows. She lingers nearby, eyes a little brighter than usual, lips tugged into the faintest smug smile. She fetches us water from a small stone fountain tucked at the edge of the garden. I take mine gratefully, gulp down half before splashing the rest over my face, washing away soot and sweat. The cool shock of it makes me groan out loud. Kacia follows suit, muttering about how she probably looks like a chimney sweep. Clarence accepts his cup but barely touches it, just holding it in his hands like it’s a fragile thing. He looks hollowed out, numb in a way that frightens me more than his anger ever could. Vidar, pale stone dulled by soot, sips slowly, careful, like each swallow costs him. And Izzy… Well, Izzy’s gone again. Just gone. Vanished the way she does, leaving no trace. I have no idea where she’s gone. I don’t know if that makes me uneasy or relieved. We sit like that for maybe half an hour. No one really moves except to stretch sore limbs. The silence becomes almost meditative. Then Kacia sighs, long and heavy, breaking it. 

“We should probably go drop Tracey off somewhere so he doesn’t have to spend all day locked in the boot of the car…” She says, trailing off awkwardly. We glance around at one another. None of us wants to leave Clarence or Vidar alone. The thought of either of them collapsing without someone nearby is… Unthinkable. Thankfully, Taryn clears her throat, stepping in. 

“Clarence, you drove here today, right? If Kaci and Oz take Tracey home, could you look after Vidar? He probably needs to see a healer. You both do, actually. And since Oz is already staying with Kacia, and Tracey already has a houseguest, it would probably be best if Vidar stayed in your guest room for a while. What do you think?” Her words are careful, but practical, every piece of it true. And it solves two problems at once. For a long, tense moment, Clarence doesn’t answer. His mouth works, his jaw clenches, his eyes flick toward Vidar, then away again. I think he’s going to refuse or not answer at all. But then… He nods. Just once. Small, stiff, but it’s there. The potions he gave Vidar earlier have done their work, some of it, at least. Vidar looks steadier now, though still worn down to the bone. He shifts, testing his weight on his own feet. He’s shaky, but standing. It’s not perfect. But it’s enough for now. They’ll take care of each other. And once we’ve rested, once we’ve had even a scrap of peace, we’ll come back. We’ll make sure they’re really okay.