“You mean like…summon any demon I can and ask them a bunch of questions about the one I’m after? Or try to work out a deal with them?” Alex asked his professor.

“In a sense…but there is a bit more nuance to it than that,” Professor Mangal said.

She waved a hand.

Crack.

Alex startled as one of her statues—an ugly creature perched on a shelf—moved, shifting in place with a cracking and grinding noise. What looked like a little stone gargoyle shuddered as it came to life; its bat-like wings unfolded around itself and its eyes—previously nothing more than grey stone—lit up like glowing red orbs.

The creature preened itself for a moment before fixing Alex with a stone-still stare. It was almost cat-like in its quiet observation of him, but there was an old intelligence in its eyes, like it was evaluating him with centuries of insight. For an instant, he was uncomfortably reminded of a Baelin stare, and instinctively stepped back toward where Claygon was standing.

“Paz, do not scare the students,” Mangal chided.

It continued to stare at Alex, as though it hadn’t even heard the Professor’s voice.

She sighed, then said something in a language that was unsettling to hear: like nails scratching the inside of the ears. Alex looked at her sharply: the words she’d spoken were very similar to Burn-Saw’s.

Instantly, Paz turned his head toward her and replied in that horrible language: his voice was loud, the tone high-pitched like angry, swarming, biting-flies.

Mangal said something else to him, and the little creature gave what sounded like a displeased grunt, flapped his wings once, took to the air, and hovered in front of a bookcase while scanning the volumes in it. Paz didn’t come across as having the most pleasant of attitudes.

Its horrible voice remained pricking at Alex’s ears.

“Was that the demon language?” he asked his professor.

She gave him a look. “There is no such thing as ‘the demon language’, Alex. That is like saying the ‘human language’ or the ‘dwarven language’ or the ‘dragon language’.”

“Well, we do have the common tongue that a lot of people speak,” Alex said a little defensively. “It might make sense that demons have something like that too.”

“Perhaps, but it is a matter of scale. The common tongue might seem omnipresent to us, but it has its limits in terms of its geographical reach: which is less and less the closer you get to Tarim-Lung, or in southern kingdoms like Tekezash where other languages hold more sway. And that is only if you take this world into account.”

“This world?”

“I prescribe to the Many-Spheres Theory, Alex,” she said, referring to a magical theory that stars nurtured different worlds, complete with life, plants, civilization and their own magics. “We have seen other planets through our telescopes and I have spoken to spirits and beings from other planes who have walked on planets other than their own. They claim that the other worlds are dead…but I am not so sure. I have travelled briefly to other planes myself, and have met other mortals there that speak no language I have ever heard before. Either they are from a place in this world that is incredibly remote…or…”

She paused, looking at him expectantly.

“…were from other worlds…” Alex mused, thinking about this ‘Hannar-cim’ and The Traveller.

Maybe there were other worlds; Burn-Saw had said something about a place called ‘Hirshin-Eos’, so Alex had checked the library up and down for a map showing such a place. He’d found nothing, even after going through old maps to see if there was any reference to a lost kingdom or fallen realm by that name.

His mind returned to the idea of other worlds with interest.

“Has there been any proof that there are other worlds?” Alex asked.

“No hard evidence.” Mangal looked at a globe resting on her desk. At times the terrain on it would shift, displaying different locations on different planes. “There are wizards and priests who have claimed that they themselves have visited other worlds, but many have been proven to be no more than charlatans. If anyone has successfully reached another world—and has produced hard evidence—they haven’t published any papers on the subject or said such in public.”

“Why wouldn’t they? That sounds like it would be really exciting.”

“There could be many reasons.” Mangal made an expression of distaste. “Think of it. Archwizards tend to hoard power: if you had discovered an entirely new planet complete with its own resources, magics and cultures, would you be so quick to give everyone else access to it? Especially those who are your enemies?”

Alex thought about that, remembering his conflicted feelings about Claygon not being unique anymore when other wizards got access to golem cores made from dungeon core remains.

“Probably not,” he admitted.

“Exactly, and as for what many otherworldly creatures say: their information can only sometimes be trusted, if one is asking them about the material world,” she said. “Always remember a key part of summoning: the creatures you bring to our world are from entirely different planes of existence. Where they are from, their senses do not work in the same way as ours. They likely have very different values. And while a demon or engeli—for example—might speak or even look somewhat like mortals, they are creatures of a completely different existence. Their perspectives are vastly different from ours, and sometimes what they see as undeniable, is impossible for us to begin to comprehend.”

She touched her globe, shifting it from a sphere of stone covered in mountains, to an orb of fire that burned different colours. “And the same works in the other direction: to an earth elemental, any liquid that is red in colour is no different from blood to them. They do not feel blood’s warmth and life like we do, and do not understand its power over us beings of flesh. Do not necessarily trust everything you hear from your summoned allies, even if you have a strong bond with them through relational summoning. Then—on top of misunderstandings—there are otherworldly creatures that simply lie.”

“There’s a lot to keep in mind,” Alex said, remembering how Burn-Saw mistook him for this Hannar-cim just from him casting a teleportation spell. To the demon, the feeling of that energy was much more of an identifier than Alex’s physical features.

“In any case, we’ve strayed off topic,” Professor Mangal laughed. “The point is, there are many, many, many, more demons than there are living creatures in our world. By orders of magnitude, so it is theorised. There are a multitude of demonic languages, each with a thousand dialects. Do not assume that because you can speak and understand one demon’s language, that you will be able to do the same with all of them. They are not a monolith, and they are organised by-Ah, here it is! Excellent timing, Paz!”

Paz fluttered down and dropped a massive book bound in black leather onto Professor Mangal’s desk. It had lettering in a ruby coloured ink on its front cover.

“The Thirty-Third Volume of the Demononomicon of Ig-Tasha,” Professor Mangal said, with admiration in her voice. She conjured a set of teal-glowing Wizard’s Hands to open the book in front of her.

Alex leaned over to take a look at the pages, and saw that they were covered in a neat, spidery script in a language he’d never seen before. Nestled among the script were illustrations of various frightening monsters—demons, he assumed—some of which looked like artists’ renditions of them in their natural environment. Other images looked like anatomical drawings from a textbook on anatomy.

“You will not have access to this book until you have mastered fourth-tier spells,” she said. “But when you do, I highly recommend reading each volume at least once if you choose to pursue knowledge on demonology: it is considered a good beginner’s guide-Ah, here we are.”

She paused on the image of what looked to be a jewel with rhombic facets.

“Demon societies are often organised in much the same way that our mortal kingdoms are; in a sort of feudal system. Abyssal knights are lower ranking members of the demonic ruling caste: the elite fighting commanders of demonkind. They, in turn, serve demon lords who, in turn, serve demon princes and princesses.”

“…and these princes and princesses serve demon kings and queens?” Alex asked.

“Yes and no. There are only a few that claim the power necessary to cause demon lords to bend the knee, as it were,” the Professor said. “And usually, they do not hold such lofty stations for long: demons are—in the end—creatures of whim. The more powerful they are, the more likely they are to rebel against their rulers.”

“Right…” Alex said, looking back at the illustration of the jewel. “And what’s that jewel you’re looking at? Some demon treasure?”

“That is Ezaliel, the abyssal knight that Baelin confronted during the attack on us,” she said. “It is an old, mysterious and powerful being even by demon standards. It or he—depending on how you conceive of the creature—rules a vast domain in the hells called Orapkarowe: a mountainous realm of blood and diamonds, with peaks that rise ten miles into prismatic skies. Blood rains from black clouds to nurture ‘plants’ made of living flesh.”

“Uhm…that sounds…pretty terrible,” Alex said.

“It is, and it is completely inhospitable to mortal life without powerful protective spells or divinities. So I would not recommend you ever go there. What I would recommend is that you summon demons from this particular realm and ask them if they know the demon you search for by some physical mark or other descriptor. The fact that the demon you seek participated in this battle, will narrow your search further as a way to identify it.”

“That’s…that’s a great start, professor.”

“Ah!” She held up her index finger. “But remember this, the size of an abyssal knight’s domain is equivalent to that of our entire world.”

“…what?” Alex blinked.

“The hells are vast beyond comprehension: you are looking for a single individual in a realm that is equivalent to our entire planet. At minimum, your search will be a struggle. Now, there are demons who possess more knowledge than others—and who are familiar with more of their kind—like how merchants, information brokers, or bureaucrats would know more people in our city than say a random bandit or farmer.”

“Right…” Alex said. “But if I was to go to random merchants in a small town and say: ‘Hey, do you know a person with this kind of scar?’ then—while they’d stand more of a chance of knowing the person I was looking for—the chance would be much lower in a city as big as Generasi.”

“Indeed, and you are looking for a single demon not in a place the size of a city, but in a realm the size of an entire world,” she said.

“Ugh,” Alex said.

“Exactly. ‘Ugh’. That is why I would suggest that you forgo any journeys for vengeance and go back to living your life. If it is any consolation, demons often kill each other: likely your enemy might live a short life.”

Paz let out a strange, blood-curdling call and Mangal smiled and petted his bald, horned head. “Oh, now you respond to me when I am not speaking your language. Yes, yes, Paz, I know that is why you are here.”

Alex looked between her and Paz for a long moment, thinking about demonic languages. “Say, Professor, what if…I was to ask for a book on the tongues of demons? Would you have any recommendations?”

Her eyes lit up. “Ah, now that is a much better use of your time, whether or not you decide to proceed with this folly-filled search of yours. I can recommend several books on vocabulary, grammar, accents, musicality, tone and audio-prestidigitation.”

“Right, right…wait, what was that last word?”

“Some languages are literally impossible for human mouths to pronounce without…help, such as many demonic dialects and those of elementals. Audio-prestidigitation utilises skill and mana in tandem to allow human mouths to pronounce such alien words.”

“Huh, cool,” Alex said.

“It is indeed very ‘cool’. Here, I shall make you a study list of books and recommend a reading order for them.” She drew out a piece of parchment and began writing down titles. “We will be studying the languages of other planes later in the course this summer, so be assured that your efforts will help you do well on later assignments as well as the final exam.”

“Thanks,” he said. “I’ll try and make you proud.”

“Oh and…” she paused her writing. “What you witnessed the other day is…horrific. Do not be afraid to talk to someone about it when you are ready. Seek help. Calm the mind. Engage in meditation as well; do you know of this practice?”

“Oh yeah, I’ve done all of that,” he said. “And I’ll continue to do all of it.”

“Good, good,” she finished scrawling her titles on the page. “It is my hope that such a thing will remove your need for vengeance.”

‘Maybe,’ he thought. ‘But it won’t remove the fact that I need Burn-Saw to talk to him.’

As he and Claygon left Mangal’s office, he suddenly felt a lot of sympathy for the authorities in Generasi. Finding someone without many details to go on was…a hell of a task, as it turned out.

‘No wonder they had such a hard time catching the demon summoner,’ he thought. ‘I wish I could just cast a spell and have magic give me all the answers.’

Unfortunately, such spells—the kind from tales where witches see the future and the secrets of the universe in crystal balls—were pure fantasy. If he was going to find Burn-Saw, he and Baelin would need to work on it the hard way.

Alex continued mulling it over in his mind as he and Claygon walked through the halls, drawing eyes as they went. By now, his four-armed golem was a fairly common sight at the school, but their performance in The Games along with the attack on the beach, had really increased the attention they got.

‘It’s a good thing the priests of Uldar still can’t come on campus,’ he thought. ‘Despite Carey’s best efforts…I wonder how she’s doing, anyway?’

The last he’d heard, she’d gone to see her family for the summer in the Rhinean Empire.

‘The more my name gets out there, the harder it’ll be for anyone to push me around,’ he thought. ‘Of course, the more my name gets out, the easier I am to fi-’

He paused.

“Oh, by The Traveller, I’m so stupid!” he said aloud, drawing looks.

He’d been thinking about things the wrong way.

Finding Burn-Saw was a good idea, but he was one nameless demon out of billions. But the demon hadgiven him a name: ‘Hannar-cim’. What if he and Baelin summoned different demons and asked them not only about Burn-Saw, but also about this ‘Hannar-cim’?

‘It must be a famous enough name: Burn-Saw said that this Hannar-cim did some serious damage to the demonic army he was part of. Which probably means that other demons should know the name too, or they might know the title he mentioned: ‘Yushaero,’ or maybe this ‘Hirshin-Eos’ battlefield. Information about those things would probably be much easier to find. Alright, Hannar-cim or The Traveller or Yushaero. Let’s see exactly what you’ve been up to…and if you are really dead.’