I guide my steed so we’re side by side. “To a warrior, everything’s a competition.”

Lincoln eyes me carefully. “Are you really prepared to all-out compete with me?”

I stick out my tongue. “Do your worst.”

“Good. I will.” Grinning, Lincoln clicks his tongue again. Nightshade and Bastion head off in a new direction.

We scale up a hilly path. The horses slow to a walk. The trail narrows, ending on a cliff that overlooks the Gray Sea. We dismount, guiding the horses to sip from a nearby pool. I plunk down at the cliff’s edge, letting my feet dangle off the rock lip. The desert stretches off to the horizon, its charcoal-gray ground touched by a silver sky. I feel like I live in this place, I see it so much in my dreamscapes from Verus.

I shield my eyes from the updraft of sand. “How often do you come here?”

Lincoln sits beside me on the ledge. “Whenever I need a break from court. Maybe once a week.”

“The Gray Sea is lovely in a…” I bob my head up and down, trying to find the right words.

“Bleak desert kind of way?”

“Exactly.” I smile softly. No one’s ever finished a thought for me before. It’s kinda cool. “So, what’s it like to hunt demons on earth?”

Lincoln winces. “A bit grisly. Most of the ladies in court ask that I skip the more gruesome bits, so I usually cut the description short and simply say that—”

“Well, if one of those ladies shows up, you can stop talking.” I shoot him a sly look. “It’s me here, Lincoln.”

“Right.” He jumps to his feet. “Let’s say I’m the demon. I’m on earth’s surface causing all sorts of trouble, only humans think I’m a storm or an illness breaking out or whatever.”

My jaw falls open. “Humans can’t see demons?”

“Nope.” He points to his blue eye. “Thrax only see them as part of our angel nature, and you probably see them from the demon part in yours. You be the thrax.”

I rise to my feet. “Grr.”

Lincoln chuckles. “And a ‘grr’ to you, too.” He gestures toward me. “So you find out demons are causing trouble somewhere, let’s say it’s a forest. You get your team together and suit up for demon patrol.”

“Do you wear those tunics to fight demons?”

“Nope. The one place thrax go high-tech is on demon patrol. We have the latest in body armor, night vision goggles, that kind of thing. The Rixa bring one traditional piece of equipment.” He pulls two small silver sticks from the belt of his jeans.

I break out into a grin. “I was hoping we’d get to this part.”

“They’re called baculum.” He tosses them to me.