Some demons liked to drive for whatever reason. Clement had never talked with one, but he imagined that they didn’t often drive if they ever wound up summoned again. The look on their faces when they drove over a set of icy shackles was one that made him extraordinarily grateful to Gertrude for enchanting his visor with magnification settings.
A demon’s car would find itself relatively unimpeded by the ice. The demon wasn’t so lucky. Even the strongest of demons would find themselves hard pressed to survive both impacting against the wall of shackles at above eighty miles an hour and the crumpling of their car around them when their body got in the way.
A perfect trap if ever there was one.
Except when demons didn’t show up.
“All this sneaking around and trapping,” Gertrude said. She put her fingers into her red hair, giving a light tug. Not hard enough to actually pull the hair out, just enough to try to relieve stress. “I can’t take it anymore. I want to fight. That girl ruined everything,” she said with a loud groan.
Clement placed his hand on his sword. “Are we taking the fight to them?”
“The city has less demons,” she said, not even paying attention to Clement. “Ahh, but it has the devil.”
“Will your enchantments work on him?”
“I suppose that depends entirely on how playful he’s feeling. I wouldn’t rely on anything but your sword. That should work on the Devil himself.”
Clement glanced down towards his boots, opening his mouth to ask.
Gertrude preempted his question. “No amount of speed will matter if he gets serious.”
“Then we must kill him before he gets serious.”
“A trickier task than simple words make it sound.”
“I can handle it.”
Bright white teeth appeared between Gertrude’s lips as their corners curled up high on her cheeks. “If you handle him,” she said with a hum, rubbing her chin. “That might work. You won’t get any support from me.”
Clement blinked. Possibly the most powerful foe they had ever faced and she wouldn’t be there? He suppressed the chill on his neck and gave Gertrude a nod. “If that is what you need of me. Shall we set up traps?”
“The first one might work for a few seconds. I wouldn’t expect anything to work twice.”
Tightening his fingers around his sword’s hilt, Clement took a deep breath. “A few seconds might be all I need.”
“Alright then,” she said, turning and stalking away from the mess of the demon. After taking one step, Gertrude paused. “There is one more thing.”
She tossed a small object towards Clement. With the enchantments on his visor and the rest of his armor, he hand no trouble spotting and catching it in the dim light.
A ring.
An old-fashioned signet ring. It was a dark metal, heavier than he expected though he had no trouble lifting it. Whether that was because of his armor’s enchantments or something Gertrude had done to the ring, he couldn’t say.
The signet part of the ring had heavy embossing. There were two main parts of the signet. The first, the outer circle, was full of dots and lines. Some lines were straight while others squiggled. None of the patterns made any sense to him.
The inner circle had a symbol that looked almost like an old-fashioned keyhole. There were a few excess lines around the keyhole along with the astrological symbols for Mars and Saturn.
“This is your ring,” he said, looking back to Gertrude. “Why give it to me? You aren’t planning on doing something foolish again, are you?”
“Me?” she said with a faux gasp, grasping at her chest as if she had just been struck. “Never!”
Gertrude took a deep breath, her countenance taking on a slightly more serious appearance.
“It’s called the Seal of Solomon,” she said. “Said to be able to seal any demon, including the seventy-two devils. Just press it into their skin and bam! One-way ticket to Hell.”
“Why me?”
“You offered to fight him,” Gertrude said with a shrug. “Besides, I don’t know if it will work. You know me,” she paused to crack her knuckles, “I prefer to drag these bastards back to Hell in pieces.”
With that said, she turned back to the van and started walking, leaving Clement staring at the ring.
And wondering just how he was supposed to wear it with his gauntlets in the way.
Perhaps a small chain around his neck would work.
Shaking his head, Clement glanced back towards where their demon guest had been sent back to Hell.
Leaving the mess behind could present a potential hazard to any innocents who came across it. Though morail blood wasn’t caustic or toxic, it was still demon blood. He would hate to have to hunt down anyone who came into contact with the substance. Likely some random person followed by either mundane police or Brakket Academy personnel.
If it was the latter, he wouldn’t feel too guilty about it.
But Gertrude had already slipped through the window of their van. Roars of the engine filled the air as she revved up the vehicle. Three sharp blasts of the horn signaled her impatience.
With a sigh, Clement followed her footsteps and left the mess of the demon behind. With any luck, the remains would be picked off by carrion feeders. A lot harder to hunt down, but significantly less important than hunting down sentient beings.
He pulled open the rear doors of the van and climbed inside, setting the weight of his armor down on one of the reinforced seats.
Gertrude slammed on the gas pedal, lurching the van forwards, before he even had a chance to shut the door.
As usual.
— — —
An empty void. Nothing existed anywhere. There were no landmarks, no scents, no lights. Nothing at all. Nothing but cold.
Eva couldn’t feel her fingers. She couldn’t feel her toes.
And yet, it was somehow familiar. Except for the cold.
The hallway that she had been trapped in after being stabbed by Sawyer. Or rather, the void that she had fallen into just before waking.
Eva had taken the entire thing to be a near death experience brought on by the cursed dagger. Some delusion that her mind had wrought as a way of coping with her imminent demise.
That she was experiencing it again did not fill her with happy feelings. The implications elicited almost the exact opposite; feelings of dread.
Ylva had killed her. Or, at least came close enough to throw her back into a comatose state. A state that, last time, Eva had required outside assistance to wake up from.
Though, last time, the emptiness had immediately preceded waking up. Perhaps she wouldn’t need to muck about with the hallway this time.
Of course, she had retained the ability to feel things last time. Eva distinctly recalled using her claws to cut herself as a test. No matter how much she tried to move, she couldn’t feel even the slightest movement of her own body.
And she was trying.
With nothing else to do, Eva continuously tried to flex her fingers. Back and forth, back and forth.
Slowly yet surely, the lack of any feeling gave way to a sort of tingling numbness. The sort of feeling that happened when a limb fell asleep. It was painful, but not overly so. Nothing quite compared to having her eyes pulled out. Or even the curse from the blade.
As the numbness worked its way up her arms, Eva started trying the same with her legs. Anything to get more feeling in her body.
After a moment or two of working over her fingers, Eva had a thought.
If Ylva had frozen her body, what was the best way to get rid of that ice?
The answer was obviously fire.
Eva ignited her arms and legs.
Warmth poured into her. She didn’t go further than her carapace–the flames would end up going too far and taking her from frozen to extra crispy. A few warming spells around her chest and stomach helped, though not to the same degree.
Still, Eva was quickly regaining her range of motion.
And her hearing.
A buzzing at her ears that slowly grew louder. Shouts, perhaps?
Cries to put it out.