It had proven useful. For the most part. The lack of opposable thumb and fingers was surprisingly not that big of an issue. The tentacle’s dexterity combined with the suckers made up for that deficiency. For tasks that did require use of his fingers, he still had his other hand.
Tragically, it did not possess the carnivean’s raw strength. That came more from the demon’s innate magic than any musculature in the limb itself. While it worked as a replacement arm, he wouldn’t be tearing the limbs off of Arachne any time soon.
That it did not produce its own mucus made Devon happy. Very happy. That had been his main concern over attaching it in the first place. He might have had to line his trench coats in plastic. And his bed.
And everything, really.
“So,” hedged the professor, “you’ve been broody lately. Broodier.”
“And you’ve been nosy.”
“Just wondering what has been bothering you.”
“Bothering me?” Devon snorted. “My life’s work is mostly dead on her bed; she’s lucky she doesn’t need to eat often. I’ve been conscripted by Ylva to do its dirty work. And I’m here, with you, in this necropolis.” He paused, then added, “several other things as well. The little things do add up over time.”
“Eva is your life’s work?”
“Well,” Devon scratched his beard with his tentacle, “I was planning on finding more test subjects soon. Lady Ylva might keep me busy with her chores for–”
The professor stopped and turned at the landing. She sent a blade of razor wind off to one side, bisecting a zombie, on her way to face Devon. “What do you mean test subjects?”
“I was under the impression that Eva had mentioned our little arrangement to you…”
She shook her head.
“Ah.” Oops. Whatever, Eva can deal with it.. “Ask how well her treatment is going next time she is awake.”
“What treatment?”
“Ask her.”
Devon slipped around the still professor and continued up the next flight of stairs. He had just gotten into a rhythm and wasn’t about to stop for a trifle of inane chatter. Especially if she was just going to repeat back whatever he said as a question.
He froze at the top of the next landing.
A demon leaned against the wall next to the door to floor twelve.
Not a half-corpse half-demon abomination. This thing was an actual, full-bodied demon–full-bodied for an eight year old, perhaps. It was about the size of an eight year old. But still, a real demon.
And one he recognized.
At least, Devon recognized parts of it. The tentacles hanging down from its head matched the green with black cross-marks on his substitute arm. One of the two larger tentacles was shrunk slightly. Still growing back, perhaps.
It turned its head towards him, revealing empty eye sockets surrounded by dark black rings.
Devon slipped his arm behind his back despite the demon’s lack of working eyes. As the demon opened its mouth, Devon tensed.
“I’m sorry,” it said in a low, basso rumble.
He blinked. That was not what he had expected.
It took him a moment to realize that the words were aimed at the professor.
A very ill-looking professor, Devon noted with a glance towards her.
“We couldn’t feel the effects of your ring all that well without you wearing it. Naturally, we didn’t know what it was until afterwards. Our summoner just said that he wanted a ring.
“We were,” the demon paused to shudder, “talked to about that little incident. The jezebeth did not make it.”
It took a moment for the professor to open and shut her mouth enough times to form words. “D-didn’t make it?”
Devon rolled his eyes. She had been competent thus far. Being waylaid by a memory? He shook his head.
“That particular jezebeth no longer exists in any way, shape, or form.”
The professor gave a slow nod, looking fairly relieved as she did so. “And you?”
The carnivean smiled. It didn’t have as many teeth as Arachne, and only a handful were sharp. But demons all had the same smile.
An unnerving smile.
“Well, I can check apologizing off my list of things to do. Still have a debt to Hel, but that is more of a long-term thing.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Devon took note of the professor clenching her fist. If they didn’t have to fight, Devon did not want to fight. He moved to grip her arm in an attempt to defuse her.
“That’s it?” She spoke in a voice almost too low for Devon to hear, and he was right next to her.
“That’s it?” she repeated, louder. “‘I’m sorry?’ You tortured me for what felt like days! And all you have to say is that you’re sorry?”
“You can go on if you want,” the carnivean said with a flip of its tentacle towards the ascending staircase. “That guy summoned me almost as soon as I got out of the void, but nothing in my contract requires me to fight you. Frankly, I’m hoping that bastard fail–”
“What if I want to fight you?”
Devon gripped the professor’s arm, still trying to keep his tentacle arm out of view.
She shoved him off with a glare.
“I’m relatively certain that I can defend myself, ring or not. And I will.” The carnivean scratched its head with its own tentacles. Its more human-like arms sat still at its side. “Look, if it helps, I am genuinely sorry. Really.”
“You’re not sorry that you tortured me. You’re sorry that you got tortured.”
“Even if that was true–”
Which it is, Devon thought.
“I wasn’t torturing you. That was all the jezebeth. I mean, maybe I broke an arm and a leg. That isn’t torture, that’s just part of the fight. And you seem to be climbing the stairs without trouble, so I assume it is all fixed–.”
“Shut up.”
The professor lifted her arm, pointing her dagger at the carnivean.
Devon gripped her arm and yanked it down to her side while whispering in her ear. “Listen girly, if that thing is letting us pass, we pass. I know you didn’t see it because of your injuries, but that thing did a number on Arachne. It had broken and missing limbs as well as its carapace cracked in several places. Think about what it is going to do to us.”
The muscles in her arm did not release their tension in the slightest.
“Let’s get the nun and get out.” Devon grit his teeth together. He could feel the bile rising in the back of his throat. I can’t believe I’m about to say this. “Think of the children.”
The professor blinked and glanced down at Devon.
He released her arm and turned away before she could say a word. Whatever mania had taken her subsided with that statement.
She did not lift her arm again, nor did she strike in any other way.
She simply nodded.
“Now then,” Devon said with a glance towards the carnivean, “if you’ll excuse us, we will–”
“Us?” The carnivean turned its vacant look on Devon. “I don’t believe I mentioned you getting a free pass.”
Devon went very still. Out of the corner of his eye, he noted the professor tightening her grip on her dagger. “I’m with her,” he said with a jerk of his head in the professor’s direction.
“You have something of mine.”
“Yeah?” Devon’s arm squirmed beneath his sleeve. “You weren’t using it. Cost of battle, if you wanted to keep it, you shouldn’t have lost.”
“Oh yes, I am well aware. I can feel her here. If I see that eight-eyed lying sack of meat again… Well, she has as many limbs as I do and four times the eyes. I’m sure I can find a way to repay her.”
Devon leaned over and mumbled in the professor’s ear. “Maybe it is a good thing that Arachne disappeared.”
“But,” the carnivean shouted, taking a step forwards.
Devon and the professor took a step back.