Why You Should Never Rescue Stray Demons Chapter 24

**OZ**

People give me odd looks as I walk. I can’t really blame them, I’m carrying a fully grown woman down a city street like she’s passed out drunk or dying, which, in fairness, kind of describes the situation. A few pedestrians slow down, eyes lingering. I meet each one of them with a flat, expressionless stare. That seems to do the trick. They keep walking. Eventually, the buildings around me start to shift. Less concrete. More stone. And then, finally, I see it. The library. It’s… Strange. Like a place out of time. The main building looks like it belongs in some royal court, not in the middle of a city block. All carved stone, pointed arch windows, and an aged iron gate framing the entry. Ivy creeps up one side of the wall like it’s been tending the building for centuries. But right next to that gothic grandeur is a garish LED sign that reads ‘Storytime Wednesdays!’ and ‘Night Read & Tea: Ages 75+’ in cheerful block letters. There’s even a small noticeboard out front with someone advertising babysitting services scrawled in neat cursive. To one side, a garden sprawls in glorious defiance of the cement and grey of the city. It’s incredibly beautiful and lush with thick leaved vines, bright blooms and a massive old tree, wide as a van and glowing faintly at its roots. Or is that just the sun reflecting off of it? I really can’t be sure. I’ve never seen anything quite like it, at least, not in this realm. I’m still staring when someone rushes at me.

“Is that Kaci?! What happened? Is she okay?!” A voice cries. A small woman who barely comes up to my shoulder stops just shy of colliding with me. Auburn hair, sun kissed skin, and anxious hands reaching for Kacia before I can react. I pull Kacia instinctively tighter against my chest and twist away, keeping my body between them.

“Hey! I’m just trying to help!” The woman says sharply.

“I don’t know you and I don’t know if I can trust you. Until I do, keep your hands to yourself.” I reply, tone flat. Maybe it’s harsh. But if you include me, two assassins have been sent after Kacia this week, and I’m not exactly feeling generous with trust. The woman’s eyes go wide, then narrow, wounded, offended, and not remotely cowed. I glance at Kacia. Her expression hasn’t changed, she’s still paralysed, but she doesn’t seem alarmed. No flicker of warning in her eyes. No tension in what little control she has left. I sigh.

“Look, if you really want to help, take me inside. Show me somewhere she can rest while she recovers.” I amend. The woman’s mouth softens.

“Oh… I can’t, I’m a dryad. My tree’s here, and I can’t go inside man made buildings. Not without... Consequences.” She says quietly. I follow her gaze back to the massive tree in the garden. Ah. That makes sense. It glows faintly when she looks at it. Hah, I knew I saw something. They’re definitely bonded. 

“Then I’ll go alone.” I say, starting forward.

“Wait, hold up!” she blurts, darting in front of me again. 

“I can’t help, but I know someone who can. When you get inside, look for Vidar. He’s a gargoyle. About your size. Wings, stone skin, very hard to miss.” She’s rambling slightly, but her concern seems real.

“Vidar protects the building. He’s very traditional. All about protection, safety, that sort of thing. He’ll know where to take her.” She continues, her tone filled with admiration. I nod slowly. That tracks. Gargoyles are territorial, guardians by nature. They bond with structures, and once they’ve claimed something, nothing gets past them without permission.

“Thank you.” I say. Then pause, realising I never got her name.

“Taryn. My name’s Taryn.” She offers, as if reading my mind. 

“Thank you, Taryn.” I echo. 

“I’ll find him.” I decide. She gives a tense, hopeful smile, then steps back and watches as I push open the heavy iron trimmed library door, Kacia still cradled in my arms. Time to find this Vidar.

I stand just inside the library entrance, Kacia still limp in my arms, trying not to look like I’m casing the place or abducting someone. Taryn said to find Vidar. Easy enough, she’d claimed. Big guy. Gargoyle. Can’t miss him. Except… I’m surrounded by humans. There are children darting between shelves. Retirees sipping tea in armchairs. Some guy in a ‘BOOKS BEFORE BROS’ hoodie is fast asleep beneath a window. Not exactly a gallery of magical contacts. If Vidar’s here, he’s either glamoured or lying low. Great… A garish, overly cheerful ‘INFORMATION’ sign blinks to my left over a desk. Bright yellow. Impossible to miss. I start there. The woman behind the desk blinks rapidly at me, specifically, at Kacia, who is still completely frozen in my arms. Her voice is high and nervous when she speaks.

“Uh, can I help you?” She squeaks.

“I’m looking for someone named Vidar.” I say, doing my best to sound calm and not like I’m seconds away from launching into a panic. 

“Do you know him?” I ask. She shakes her head immediately, eyes flicking from Kacia’s still form to my face.

“N-no, sorry, um… Is she… Do you need an ambulance or something?” She offers. 

“No, she’s fine. Forget about it.” I say, sharper than I mean to. I turn and walk off before she can argue, resisting the urge to growl at the stares I feel dragging across my back. I'm trying to be nice, but the longer I wander around this pastel lit maze of printed paper and judgmental silence, the more frayed I feel. I try a few other people. Ask casually. Politely. Well… Semi-politely. Nothing. So… I start stereotyping. Not my proudest moment, but I’m desperate, and frankly, experience has taught me that magical beings, especially the ones trying to blend in, usually suck at it. I mean, I can barely hide my tail and even with my glamour I probably don’t act ‘normal’ by human standards. So I start scanning for the tells. People who seem a little too stiff in their human skin. Not physically, necessarily, but that awkward tension in the way they hold themselves, like they’ve memorised a script for being normal and forgot half the lines. I spot a lanky guy in an oversized trench coat flipping through a book upside down. Suspicious. But when I approach and ask if he knows a Vidar, he flinches like I’ve offered him a mortgage and bolts into the poetry section. Human. Just… Weird. Next, a woman with a seven foot scarf and twelve crystal bracelets, minimum. She is hovering around the herbal remedies aisle like she’s guarding state secrets. I catch her muttering to a potted fern, which feels promising. But when I drop Vidar’s name, she ignores me and launches into a ramble about lunar alignments, past life regression, and whether I’ve accepted ‘amethyst as my soul’s protector.’ No mention of gargoyles. Not a supernatural, just a weird human who thinks she’s a witch. I move on. A twitchy kid with black nail polish and a haunted look in the sci-fi section? Just an over-caffeinated university student who thinks he’s being stalked by his ex. A guy with an eye patch and a cane? Actually, surprisingly human. Just deeply committed to pirate themed Tuesdays, apparently. And then there’s the ones with that look. The quiet existential dread that only magical beings seem to wear well. The look that says I’ve been alive for three hundred years and I’ve made peace with nothing. But they all claim not to know Vidar. Either they’re lying, or he’s better at hiding than I gave him credit for. I’m ready to call it. I have absolutely no idea where this damn gargoyle is hiding. I should’ve asked Taryn more questions. Like, ‘Where exactly is he?’ or ‘How does one find a gargoyle in a building full of humans and fluorescent lighting?’ I’m ready to give up. Just find a corner, maybe the nonfiction section, or wherever they keep tax law, something boring enough that no one will be there, and wait out Kacia’s paralysis in peace. What’s the least popular section of the library?

“Um… Mr. Demon?” A small voice asks. I freeze. I turn slowly. Standing behind me is a little girl, maybe six or seven years old. She’s wearing a prim grey dress with a ribbon at the collar and has blonde ringlets that look like they’ve been styled by someone with way too much free time. Her eyes are round and silver-grey, wide with open curiosity. She peers up at me like I’m some rare specimen she’s just discovered in a field guide. I glance down at myself, mildly alarmed. My glamour’s still holding. My horns are hidden. Tail’s wrapped and tucked. So either this kid is very magically attuned… Or she’s not human at all. She smiles brightly.

“I know where Mr. Vidar is. I can take you there.” She offers. Cautiously, I incline my head.

“Alright, lead the way.” I say slowly. She turns on her heel and begins walking like this is the most normal thing in the world. And with no better option, I follow her deeper into the library, with Kacia still in my arms and the distinct feeling that I’ve just entered the weirdest side quest of my life.