7
He stumbled forward and glared at me, but began the trudge through the thick underbrush. The way was slower for him than it was for the taller me, but that merely made us even. The light from Cadwa could hardly penetrate the undergrowth around us so that I found myself stumbling over every root and rock. He must have had the ability to see in the dark because his stride never broke.
“So what are you, anyway?” I asked my captive.
He cast me a side-glance with a look that didn’t have any warmth. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
I shrugged. “It means I don’t know what you are.”
He paused and eyed me with a long, careful look. I now knew what it felt like to be under a petri dish. “I’m an imp and you’re a she-devil.” He continued through the brush. “Nobody else could keep awake
