“And our contract?”
From the chair that Eva was sitting in, she could see a shadow of a smile cross Devon’s features.
“Still on, of course.” That shadow darkened ever so slightly. “Of course, the terms dictate two years donation towards a single subject, so we’ll have to start the timer back at zero when next I summon you.”
In spite of her obvious fatigue, the carnivean’s eyes narrowed to thin slits. “That wasn’t in our contract.”
“Oh, but it was.” Devon pulled out a sheet of paper from the back of his notebook. “Reviewed and signed by you, it clearly states that you will donate yourself to the subject for a period lasting no less and no longer than two years.”
He turned the paper around, holding it out for her to see. “Now, that subject is dead and can no longer be donated to. Either our contract is null and void as the subject is deceased, or I find a new subject to take his place and your two years start over.
“By all means, you are free to walk away. Back to square one. Good luck finding someone willing to summon the unseelie queen.”
Eva quirked an eyebrow at that. This was the first she had heard of such a plan.
“Or accept a delay of a few weeks. I have no intention of letting this project linger. Not with the current and future state of Hell, demons, and Void in such flux.”
Brokering no room for argument, Devon pointed at the summoning circle. “Now out. Or I will banish you myself.”
When she hesitated, looking much like she was going to argue, Devon started chanting.
Originally, Eva hadn’t thought that Devon had much special about him. Well, that wasn’t true.
Originally, Eva had thought the world of Devon. He was a great magic caster. A brewer of potions that could cure all sorts of maladies. A fighter capable of ending all of his foes. One that bent demons at their knees to do his bidding.
She had begged and pleaded with him to teach her magic. He had finally relented, teaching her enough to keep her from blowing herself up and graciously allowing access to his library of tomes.
That was the mage that a young and impressionable girl had called master.
Now, however, she had more influences in her life. Teachers and fighters. Zoe, Genoa, Wayne, and a good portion of the professors at Brakket Academy. Compared to them, Devon was… lackluster. Eva was fairly certain that most of his ‘skills’ in fighting actually amounted to luck. Luck and hiding behind whatever demons were available.
While he had to have at least a little skill to back up that luck, his teaching skills were nonexistent. Looking back, Eva could clearly see that he hadn’t taught her much of anything unless it was directly related to her not killing herself. More likely was that she had annoyed him to the point where he had just tossed his books at her until she went away.
It worked. Eva had been more than happy to study a good portion of his tomes. And she couldn’t complain that the first book he had tossed at her was a blood magic book–she liked the art, after all. But a small part of her couldn’t help but wonder just how much more she could be, had she had an actual teacher.
Since arriving at Brakket, Eva had been dropping the title of master when addressing him. He was merely Devon.
But if there was one thing that he was a master at, it was diablery. Or demonology, as he would insist.
The words to his chant came out fast. The nun that had tried to banish Arachne just before starting school sounded like a child in comparison. Devon slurred and used contractions so much that the chant was only intelligible because Eva had heard most of it before.
Yet it worked.
The carnivean strode across the room. She didn’t move slow despite the lethargy. And yet she only made it about six steps. Her seventh step fell through a portal on the floor. Without solid ground beneath her, she tipped forward and fell face first into the void.
As the portal sealed up behind the carnivean, Eva frowned at her master. “I heard the story from Zoe and Arachne. Why didn’t you banish her back when you guys were rescuing Nel?”
He let out an irritated snort. “At first it was just talking. Implied it wasn’t going to attack us. Might have let my guard down, but just goes to show that you can’t trust demons. By the time it started attacking, it was far too close. Had its tentacles on me quick.”
“Won’t dismissing her make dealing with her next time all the more troublesome?”
Shrugging, he said, “I still don’t know that it is the best choice. Plenty of other demons in Hell. It was just one that I thought I could get to agree without much fuss.”
“But your contract–”
“Has plenty of loopholes. It caught a handful while going over the contract, but it didn’t catch all of them.” He paused, glancing at the mess on the floor left over from the ritual. “Hand me that broom.”
Eva blinked, momentarily stunned. She quickly complied before he decided to make her do it.
After a moment of watching the enchanted broom vanish the mess on the floor, Eva decided to press her luck by speaking up again.
“So Qrycx just happened to miss several loopholes? Doesn’t seem very demon-like.”
Sighing, Devon scratched at his beard. “Look, you want to avoid such a fate? Take a few law classes. Most demon contracts go something like this: Kill the things I want you to kill, don’t kill the things I don’t want you to kill, don’t kill me, go to Hell when you’re done. They don’t have a lot of experience in more wordy contracts.
“Now the fae,” he said, “I wouldn’t want to even hear a fae contract without a good dozen lawyers at my back.”
Eva frowned, wondering just how many lawyers went over the contracts for the diablery class. Knowing what little she did about Martina Turner, probably none.
“But,” Eva said, “you’re still going to summon the queen for Qrycx.”
“Loopholes. Assuming I even summon it again.”
With that, they fell silent. Eva let him finish cleaning the floor in peace while she considered what he had said.
Just as he was finishing up, Eva went and opened her mouth again. “What about me?”
He blinked, glancing back over his shoulder. “You? What about you?”
“‘Demons are not trustworthy,'” she said, complete with air quotes. “What about me?”
Another blink.
He burst out in a short guffaw. “You’re just a kid. And not a real demon, at least not yet. Even after your treatment is complete, its doubtful that anyone who knows you would consider you a threat. Now, after a century or two of time to distance yourself from the woes of us short-lived mere mortals, it will be another story. I don’t plan on sticking around quite that long.”
Nodding with a slight frown, Eva tried to decide whether or not to be offended. Trustworthy wasn’t bad, not from her perspective at least. Undemonlike might be bad. Her treatment wasn’t complete, so she supposed she could let that one slide for now. Not a threat?
Yes, that was definitely offensive.
And he had called her a kid. Compared to him, maybe, but fifteen years old was hardly a child.
Then, Eva’s mind caught up with his final sentence.
“You aren’t going to perform the treatment on yourself?”
A long moment of silence reigned supreme as Devon stilled.
“Arachne,” he eventually said, “was once human. As you well know. Some mages masquerading as gods didn’t like her and turned Arachne into what it is now. Myths say that Hel, mother of our very own Ylva, was cast down to Hell by Odin after being touched by Death. More mages masquerading as gods.
“There are other, similar tales through history and mythology. Humans turned to demons, or other monsters, by ones more powerful than themselves. Know one thing they all have in common?”
Eva considered for a moment. Not having a wide background in various myths and legends, she really only had the two examples. Not enough to come up with a commonality.