Demon Day by Penelope Fletcher Page A

low,
under Breandan’s restraining arm. Keeping his eyes trained on my
fairy-boy he pushed his hand into my hand. His eyes slid closed and
purred.
    I was strangely touched that he
remembered me too.
    “ You know this hunter?”
Conall asked a hint of pride in his tone.
    Breandan shifted and the panther’s
eyes shot open. He growled then settled on his haunches, tongue
lolling to the side. I rubbed him behind the ears and he grumbled
happily.
    Breandan relaxed. He sat back and
inclined his head. “How?” His raised eyebrow was enough to tell me
he was surprised, but then he pulled his face into a neutral
expression, his thoughts hidden from me. “How did you know it was
him?”
    I shrugged. “He’s unique. I just knew.
He felt the same, y’know?” I glanced at Conall to let him know I
had not forgotten his question. “We met in the forest yesterday
when Breandan found me.”
    The words pulled me up short. Had it
only been two days since I’d met Breandan and Conall? Had it been
so short a time in which my life had been turned upside down and
inside out? My mind shied away from it all. It would do me no good
to dwell on such things. It would drive me mad and I was batty
enough.
    “ Did you pick up the
trail?” I asked Conall in a rush. “I want to keep moving. I’m
rested now and I even slept.”
    Conall said nothing. He handed
Breandan and I a cracker each and unhooked a small skin flask from
his hip. Breandan ate the cracker dry in one bite and swigged from
the flask.
    I stared at what I had been given in
my upturned palm. It did not look, smell, or feel appetizing. Not
that food ever did look interesting to me. I did not feel hungry,
but sort of hollow and like food would be okay in my stomach, but
not that it was an urgent need. Would it be rude to ask if he had a
can of fizzy stashed in one of his pockets? Glancing at Conall I
decided against it. Little human culture resided in the fairy way,
so I simply kept my eyes low, and glanced at Breandan through my
lashes.
    He was already watching me.
“Everything okay?” he asked politely.
    Pushing my hair off my face, I
plastered on a bright smile, and cupped my other hand under the one
forced to hold the cracker. “Uh huh. I’m not much of an eater
anyway, and I’m sure there is something else.…” As I spoke I
offered the cracker to him, but a glance at Conall showed more of
the same kind of dry, mealy food in his hand. “Y’know, I can go
days without eating anything.”
    Breandan grinned then bent down to
bite half the cracker from my palm. In a few moments, his rough
tongue was licking crumbs and juices from my inner fingertips.
Juices? I looked down to see a clear golden fluid running down my
palm.
    Breandan smacked his lips then
regarded me closely. “You don’t like honey-nectar? It’s
sweet.”
    “ Well to be honest I don’t
think I’ve ever tried it. We used to get given lots of bread, milk,
and water … and meat,” I said thoughtfully. At the word ‘meat’, the
were-panther’s whiskers twitched and his pink tongue flicked out to
swipe over his maw. As I spoke, I grinned at him. “And drinks
filled with sugar to keep us going, y’know. Like fizzy
stuff.”
    “ We have a much more varied
diet,” Conall said after a pause, eyeing Breandan and where he had
licked my hand with a dour expression. “But our meat is mostly fish
and small game. Red meat makes us sluggish, slow. We avoid
it.”
    I nodded. “Makes sense. As a people we
climb and live in the trees.” My voice was reflective. “We’re quick
and light on our feet. It makes sense the food we should eat would
be light in substance, but rich in goodness. And it explains why I
never liked meat all that much.”
    Breandan nodded in agreement. I still
held the oozing cracker in my hands and it was beginning to look
odd. I nibbled on it and made an appreciative murmur at the firm,
wheat biscuit, and its sweet sticky centre. I finished up and
Breandan held out the flask. I felt