Free Thorn by Joshua Ingle Page B

shared with his brothers—often at a human’s expense, but laughter nonetheless. He knew it from his longing to feel droplets on his face whenever it rained. And he knew it from the Native boy…
    So much time had passed since Thorn had been an angel that he’d forgotten how plainly, scrumptiously good some of the Enemy’s creation could be. But he hadn’t forgotten all of it. He could still hear, could still see the beauty of the world. Two out of five senses—or however many senses humans had—was enough to make him wish for more.
    Pondering the world’s goodness in spite of its evil, Thorn stumbled upon a new potential course of action. What if I just quit it all? I don’t have to defect or go into hiding. I could leave my pet humans, eschew demonkind and its savage competition, and live alone until the end of time. Perhaps then Marcus wouldn’t perceive him as a threat, and would abandon his revenge fantasy. And Thorn still hadn’t seen all of planet Earth, especially in its modern state, so simple tourism could occupy him for ages.
    But would he be able to abandon his comfortable dominion over his brothers? Would he be capable of swallowing his hatred for the Enemy and never again working to ruin His creations?
    Xeres had tried it. Thorn had been by the great demon lord’s side for centuries before Xeres’s ego grew so great that he planned an assault on one of the Sanctuaries. Xeres had even gone in alone, and when he returned he was… different. He claimed he had been successful in slaughtering the Sanctuary’s humans, but he didn’t revel in his victory. He became uncommonly quiet, spending most of his days alone in forests. Before long, Thorn and Xeres’s other followers realized Xeres hadn’t whispered to a single human since his return.
    One day, centuries ago, near a Cherokee town just ninety miles from where Thorn stood now, Thorn had summoned the courage to reproach his leader. Thorn had enjoyed as close a relationship with Xeres as demons could have; he’d felt bound to him ever since Xeres had raised him up from nothing. In retrospect, the height of Thorn’s power had been as Xeres’s right hand. His de facto bigwig position in Atlanta paled in comparison.
    “You’ve lost your way,” Thorn had said to him.
    Xeres, comically huge next to a flock of wild turkeys at the edge of the forest, just nodded meekly and turned away.
    “I will not be ignored,” Thorn continued. “I mean to bring you back to sanity. Tell me what is wrong.”
    “Nothing is wrong.” His voice was still deep, but shockingly soft: a mouse’s murmur where a wolf’s howl had once been. “For once, nothing is wrong.”
    The serenity with which he said those words frightened Thorn far more than Xeres’s booming rages ever had. “This woman…” Thorn motioned at a woman picking berries nearby. “Tempt her. Whisper devilish thoughts of incest, or suicide, or anything. She need not even follow through with sin, but I must see you tempt her.”
    Xeres nodded again and lumbered over to the woman. “You crave squash,” he said.
    Thorn couldn’t help but laugh at that, as sad as it was. “No, you fool. Something evil.”
    As the woman finished filling her basket and prepared to walk back to the village, Xeres considered Thorn’s command. With his eyes on Thorn, as if hoping he would retract the request, Xeres leaned toward the woman’s ear. “You crave evil squash.”
    In spite of himself and the troubling events of recent days, Thorn guffawed and let the matter rest. Xeres smiled when Thorn did, but he seemed not to recognize his own humor. Had he not turned up dead the next day, Thorn might still have found it funny. Xeres’s body had been found suspended in the air above the thatch roofs at the center of town, his eyes glazed over. No one bothered to investigate the cause of death, but Thorn supposed that one of his bored followers had killed him so they could all move on. For a day, Thorn had exulted at