I daren’t wonder how much my father told them when he traded my body for a half-human heir. One he knew would be raised in wealth with the best education money could buy. His grandchild will be brought up in absolute privilege. I know why my father would want his grandchild to have that level of power. So it could go out and destroy this world – he has always envied the earth her beauty or maybe he just wants to make a point to her maker. He certainly didn’t tell Mr Udnam my mother grew me in three days. My brother too. He didn’t tell them most islanders refused to look us in the eye for all of our lives and the devil’s blood does not need nine months. That’s for humans and they are better than we. I hoped I was more genetically of my mother’s human blood. I hid the tiniest of nubs on my head all of my childhood without anyone noticing, even when I started to bleed and became a woman – they got only a tiny bit longer and the tip more sharp but they were still never as long as this. Not until he died. Then they grew. I’d say they are almost three inches long on either side now. It is harder to hide them. I wrap them in linen, then I wrap my hair around them in two buns on top of my head and I wear a bonnet. If I’d had horns this sharp whilst he was alive – I would have staked him. I would have taken joy in that. I’d have staked him at least ten times. My blood can’t carry his sins any more. If I can pay for him then I have to. I took the only action I could. He is not here now. My horns grew longer and now I can never truly hide where I come from and I could be exposed at any time. Anyone who wants to love me in this world, will not be able to – when they see me in my natural physical form – neither human or devil – yet somehow I am even more devil and human for being a part of each. Regardless I can only ever be me. I have human and devil blood in me in equal measures. More than either of those though there is my essence – that was born into me and it belongs solely to me – as it does for everyone. I’m not my father or mother. I am me. My natural essence is harder than stone. It is so determined. It will never let me give in, not even to the devil. Not even when he is the one who taught me how to use a knife and fork. Who taught me how to slaughter a goat or cow or sheep. Who had me steal an egg from an eagle. Who let me know I must never be afraid to cross invisible lines. Elise traces my cheek. As if to settle a child. Rests her head on my stomach – her hair falls across us.