Bad Luck, Baby

8 - Bad Fortunes

"All of which is considered highly improper, heretical, and even illegal—at least in the eyes of most witches," Ro said.

"Why?" I asked.

"No real reason," Janelle said. "It's just bigotry. 'Earth is for humans,' and 'sure, there are some good daemons, but most of 'em are trouble-makers at best, and naturally evil at worst.' Oh, and my favorite—'free daemons are threats to Witch society.' Because obviously the first thing a free daemon does is go around revealing her existence to the non-magical population."

She rolled her eyes.

"The truth is, most witches are scared of their daemons. They consider giving their daemons free will about as wise as letting a tiger off a leash at a preschool. It's the kind of thing they make rules about."

"Rules Janelle enjoys breaking," Ro put in, "which is naturally why we get along so well."

Janelle rolled her eyes again, but seemed pleased enough with the characterization.

"Anyway, what's the story, kid? How'd you end up the bastard son of a high witch, heir to the Ivy Throne, stuck with this scoundrel as your daemon, and only find out about it all yesterday?"

Deciding that I liked her, and with little other choice, I told her everything, with Ro filling in a few details here and there.

She didn't interrupt, and when I finished she leaned back in her seat, stirring her coffee and staring at it thoughtfully.

"And what about you, Ro?" she asked, without raising her eyes. "What have you been up to?"

"I don't know what you mean," Ro said, examining his nails and doing a good impression of a cat ignoring people.

"Ellie, when did your dad die, again?" Janelle asked.

"Um... about six weeks ago, I think."

"And Ro showed up yesterday. Haven't you wondered where he was all that time?"

Ro sighed. "I was in prison, if you hadn't guessed."

"Oh, I didn't guess. I knew. Ellie deserves to know, too."

"Fine." Ro rolled his eyes. "Your father kept me on the tightest leash, enslaved to his will. There was no way I could have harmed him. Still, it's not unheard of; every once in a while a daemon will find a loophole in a contract and break free. They were naturally suspicious."

"They?"

"The other Thrones—the Witch high council, if you will. I was imprisoned and... interrogated. They found it very interesting that despite my witch being dead, I still wasn't free of his will. Of course, part of Oscar's final command being that I not tell the other Thrones of your existence until I had discovered his murderer, I couldn't satisfy their curiosity. Not that I wasn't... incentivized to do so."

That strange, blank look returned to his eyes, and he shuddered. Then he took a sip of creamy coffee and shrugged.

"They probably would have exterminated me, just to be safe, but then someone ordered my release. Maybe it was a mistake—I didn't stick around to find out."

Janelle sighed. "You're a clever cat, Ro, but you sure are a dumb shit sometimes."

He looked at her over the rim of his cup. "Excuse you?"

"Why do you think Oscar told you not to blab about his kid to the other Thrones? Obviously, he thought one of them cursed him. And why do you think someone attacked Ellie's apartment the same day you tracked him down? Whoever let you go tracked you there, or close enough. You led them right to him, and it's only dumb luck he isn't dead. Ergo, you're a dumb shit."