Before long, Shalise couldn’t see anything but vague silhouettes of the walls and floor. And the almost glowing nitre spider-webbing across the ceiling.
Prax’s footfalls steadily tapped against the floor alongside a faint dripping noise at the edges of her sense of hearing. He went left at the first corner, then took a right before stopping in front of a wood door.
The rotten wood of the door leaked light through small holes. Not much light. Barely enough to see that the door was made of wood.
When Prax pushed open the door, she saw the reason for the dim light. The large room was lit by a mere two torches. Both torches looked like they were on their last legs. The flames were small and dim, flickering in the room.
Shalise gave a short mental sigh. It set the perfect atmosphere for what the room was.
“At least this hasn’t changed much.”
I expected it, but of course you would have a torture chamber in your dungeons.
Prax strode through the room, gently caressing various tools and implements that Shalise was trying hard to ignore. It was a bit difficult when he started holding some of the rusted iron in front of his face.
If you don’t mind my asking–
“I do.”
What here is going to help us with our problem?
“Not a damn thing,” he said as he set down one object and picked up another.
Oh. Um. What are we–
“You are noisy for a servant. Cheeky too. I am hoping that something, or somethings, here will curtail that negative trait of your despicable personality.”
With every word he spoke, Shalise felt a sinking feeling in her metaphysical stomach.
Combined with the emotional bleed-over from Prax, Shalise had the odd sensation of being eager and happy about what could only be her own impending torture while still forcing herself to be disgusted, angry, and afraid.
You can’t torture me! Shalise thought as hard as she could. I can barely feel pain from you!
“I know,” he said. “That just means I will have to be creative.”
You’re just going to be torturing yourself!
He pulled out a thick rod from a long box and looked it over once or twice. “Should be fun. Besides, any proper servant knows how to torture their master’s enemies. I have always been a believer in teaching by experience.”
Shalise’s mind went into absolute nope mode. She did not want that rod anywhere near her body. The entire end of it, some sort of magic circle much like the one she had drawn on her chest, was glowing white-hot. Hot enough that she could feel the heat even through her diluted senses.
Something snapped in her mind. Only a vague awareness of her surroundings bled through. There was a crash followed by a shout from Prax.
The shouting turned into a constant stream of anger-speak. Nothing intelligible.
As Shalise’s mind sharpened, it didn’t take long to figure out what he was complaining about this time.
First and foremost, they were wet. A few stones in the far end of the room had come loose. Water filled the room up to their waist and–thankfully–extinguished the iron rod.
The second thing Shalise noticed was the two statues, one of Prax and one of Shalise, standing in front of her. Both of them had two hands on Prax’s arms. Even with all of his muscles, he couldn’t trash out of their grip.
“Stop changing things! This is my domain.”
Get out of my body!
— — —
“From there, she just started thrashing about in the grip of her statue and the other one.”
Catherine blinked. She couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. “You said she has a familiar brand on her chest?”
Everyone stopped looking at the woman whose name was apparently ‘Nel’ and turned to Catherine.
Big mistake, Catherine thought as she took a step back, half expecting them to attack.
“Who invited the harlot?”
Catherine looked to Wayne Lurcher with a sneer. “Aww, still upset about being rejected by a succubus?”
Her sneer quickly turned into a smirk. He got all flustered and everyone turned to look at him. Double win. It didn’t matter that it was a lie; the seeds were planted. Baxter was already giving him a look with one eyebrow raised.
“Lies,” Lurcher said with a grunt.
“Perhaps not in so many words,” Catherine said. She shook her hips and ran a hand down one side of her body. “Succubi are the premier shape shifters in Hell. All the better to handle what our targets want. And I,” Catherine ever so subtly flicked her eyes to the other professor–who was still giving Lurcher a look, “know exactly what you want.”
Catherine blinked in confusion. Mentioning something like that often set minds on the subject. However, she was failing to pick up anything resembling lust from the older professor.
Her confusion vanished as he took a threatening step forwards. The tome chained to his waist swung into his hand.
Catherine hopped backwards a few steps, her smile vanishing from her face. That may have been pushing it too far. She had had a brief lapse in judgment regarding the fact that she was essentially surrounded by people–none of whom would be willing to take her side and one of whom was a demon that owned the domain surrounding her.
Lucky for her, Ylva decided to step in.
“Enough.”
Lurcher gave her one death glare before snapping his book shut.
“The succubus was correct.” Ylva turned slightly to give her attentions to Nel. “The designs you described are akin to a bonding brand.”
“You mentioned that a few times,” Baxter said. “What is it?”
“One of the three ways of dealing with demons. Well, four ways, but letting the demon go free doesn’t usually end well for anyone.”
Catherine ticked off one finger of three. “Arachne and, presumably, Ylva are contracted demons. You might liken them to human mercenaries. They retain full free-will, though violating the terms of the contract leads to heavy consequences. For either party.”
After ticking off a second finger, Catherine went on. “I am a familiar. We are bound to our master’s orders. If Martina wished, she could order me never to think the word ‘the’ and I would be entirely unable to until our contract is broken–typically by Martina’s death. There are a handful of topics that can’t be ordered around, such as the ability to willingly break the familiar contract.
“For upsides, I get a long-term vacation in the mortal realm and cannot be banished no matter how many silly words are thrown my way.”
“Not much for upsides,” Lurcher muttered.
“You would be surprised,” Catherine said as she ticked off her last finger. “The bound or bonded familiar is essentially two minds in one body, leaving the human in charge. The demon gets a massive–and I have heard addictive–sense of euphoria from having its powers used, but obviously they have no real body until the human dies.”
“The bond can be broken without the death of the mortal,” Ylva said. “It is not easy.”
“But it leaves the human in charge?” Baxter shook her head. “I can’t see Shalise acting like that. She can be–”
“She doesn’t act like that normally?” Catherine cut in. She paused as something occurred to her. “Here I was considering that I might have to start talking to the human brats if that was common behavior.”
Baxter winced.
Excellent.
Catherine had to fight to keep the smile off of her face. If she could guilt Baxter back into her class, then Catherine could go back to… being Martina’s lapdog. Well, she thought with a mental sigh, at least I can sit around on the computer at the secretary desk all day.