With Mark and Elania off to the side of the arena practicing, nobody else seemed particularly interested in sparring. Damien and Sylph chatted with Yui’s table for a while, occasionally trying and failing to pull in the students from the other school.

When it grew late enough, they headed off to get dinner. The two grabbed a quick meal at the mess hall before setting off to their rooms.

“Mark seems to be getting along with Elania pretty well,” Damien observed.

“I’m surprised he hasn’t managed to insult her yet,” Sylph said with a laugh. “Then again, she seems just as determined to get strong as he is, so it works.”

“They do fit together,” Damien agreed. Sylph nodded, but a pensive look crossed over her face. They reached their door and headed inside, sitting down.

“Do you ever wonder what it would be like if we didn’t have to deal with… everything?” Sylph asked, waving her hands around. “Like if I wasn’t made to be a – well, you know. And if you didn’t have Henry. If we were just normal students.”

“I never would have become a combat mage if that were the case, and you probably wouldn’t have come to Blackmist,” Damien replied. “And I don’t know if I can imagine life without Henry.”

“That’s true.”

“Last year, I made a decision not to question or wonder about the hand I’ve been dealt,” Damien said, moving to sit beside Sylph. “I was so out of control of my own life that I felt like I was going to shatter. I was just drifting along, doing whatever I was told. It felt like there wasn’t any other option.”

“So what changed?”

“Nothing, really,” Damien admitted with a wry grin. “The world is still a gentle push away from a violent end from either the Void or the Corruption, but I can’t control that. I just realized that the only thing I really could control was how I dealt with the situations I was dealt, and I was done being tossed around. Even if I’ve only tricked myself into thinking that I’ve got more control, it still helps me feel better.”

Sylph nodded slowly. “That’s one way to look at it. I just hope that we can find some way out of this that ends well so we can finally have a chance to relax without the threat of doom hanging over us.”

“That’s a problem for tomorrow,” Damien said. A smile flickered across Sylph’s face and she inclined her head. They stood up and started preparing for bed.

Henry, you’ve still got that tracker on the Quinlan, right? Do you need me to do anything to help find her?

“Nah, I’ve got it,” Henry replied. “The Mountain Hall girl stopped walking around a few hours ago, probably in her room inside the mountain. The security in Blackmist for student housing is nonexistent, so this will be a joke. You’ve got no stealth abilities, so you’d just get in the way.”

Good luck, then. Fill me in tomorrow, or in my dreams if it’s urgent enough.

Damien laid down next to Sylph, yawning as his shadow peeled away from him, taking Henry with it as it slipped out of the room.

***

Henry flashed through the streets of Blackmist, just barely managing to hold back a gleeful laugh as the world sped by him. Traveling with Damien was fine, but nothing really beat moving around of his own volition.

Unfortunately, as far as he could tell, there weren’t any goats in the vicinity. That would have really made the night more interesting. If he had a few more days with the strange little creatures, he was pretty sure he’d break his own record in goat stacking. Instead, he had to settle for following the scrap of magic he’d attached to Quinlan.

Her mountain was directly behind the pavilion that all the other students had set up in. He spotted Yui and her two retainers sitting at the table, but the others had all left. Henry slowed, considering stopping to listen what they were talking about, but decided against it. There would be more than enough time to spy on the princess later.

He flickered up the side of the mountain, along a remarkably similar path until he was nearly level with his shadow. Three rooms were inlaid into a small plateau in the side of the mountain. Each one had a carved metal door complete with runework.

Sending a pulse of mental energy out, he received a response from the room in the center. Henry slipped up to it, bypassing the runes without a second thought, and entering the room behind it.

If Damien had been there, his eyes would have popped out of his head. Quinlan’s room was the size of a small building. Her bed was outfitted with a very soft looking mattress, complete with puffy blankets and a plush Devourer Beast toy.

A fully equipped kitchen took up the left wall, and there were four doors along the wall. Her bathroom alone was nearly the size of Damien and Sylph’s entire room, and it had color changing runes carved into the walls.

His magic called to him from behind a large wooden dresser behind Quinlan’s bed. Henry slipped up to it, passing through the gap between the bottom of the dresser and its doors. He pushed past a large pile of clothes, nudging them out of the way to reveal a thin passageway that led downward.

“Did everyone get a secret passage?” Henry wondered to himself, grabbing a pair of pants. He pulled them on, then summoned an eye to examined himself. “Bah. Horrendous taste.”

He tossed them back into the pile and headed down the hole. The passageway was lined with runes and the dust on the floor implied that they’d either been carved recently or it had been a while since anyone had passed this way.

Considering the scrap of magic he’d sent after Quinlan was somewhere below him, Henry was pretty sure the situation was the former, but the runes made no sense. They were almost nonsensical, as if someone were simply practicing them rather than trying to actually make a coherent pattern.

The hallway wound down, stopping before an empty doorway leading into a large, circular chamber. A large rune circle had been carved into the ground surrounding a chair, where Quinlan sat, her chin in her hands. At her feet rested a thick book, but he couldn’t make out its title from where he stood.

Henry melded against the wall and entered the room. The ground everywhere outside the circle was pockmarked and warped, and the room was full of residual heat. Several stone tablets had been thrown to the floor and were either melted or shattered.

Quinlan glanced up, looking at the doorway and clenching her hands. Henry followed her gaze, but there was nothing there. Henry contemplated approaching her, but he had no plans to enter any protective rune circles, no matter how amateur their creator might be.

Still, there was no point taking risks. Henry extended a thin tendril, carving miniscule cuts along several of the runes. They were too small to spot with a glance but would render the circle worthless if activated.

“I know you’re there,” Quinlan said. Henry paused his work, turning his attention toward her. She still wasn’t looking in his direction. If she was bluffing, she wasn’t particularly good at it.

He continued his trek around the room, memorizing everything he saw. Quinlan was clearly trying to learn runes, but she wasn’t even as good as Nolan was. Her work was sloppy and borderline dangerous. If all the damage to the floor around her was due to her shoddy work, Henry wouldn’t have been surprised.

“You get one chance,” Quinlan said, standing up. She had a piece of paper crumpled up in her hand. “Show yourself, or I’m going to act.”

She was still staring at the door. Henry prepared a spell, wishing his senses weren’t completely befuddled by the human spark. A part of him wanted to destroy Quinlan’s hand and whatever she had in it, but he was pretty sure Damien wouldn’t have appreciated that.

Judging by the look in Quinlan’s eyes, she’d been sitting here for some time now. Henry mentally sighed. She’d probably managed to detect the tiny sliver of magic he’d left on her. Nobody else had noticed it when he’d tested it in previous nights, but it was possible she was more sensitive than his previous subjects.

Quinlan leapt to her feet and fire enveloped the paper in her hand. A ring of runes erupted from it, spreading through the air and tracing across the ceiling, carving themselves into the stone with magma. Molten rock dripped, sizzling against the ground as a wave of magic seared through the air.

Magical energy coiled around Henry, lighting him up like the window of a busy tavern. Quinlan spun toward him, her eyes wide. She thrust her other hand down and lit up the now useless rune circle at her feet.

“One move and I rip you apart. The moment I activate it, that spell will blast you with magma, leaving nothing but a tiny pile of ash.,” Quinlan warned, summoning a snake of molten energy to coil around her hand. “Now, who are you?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Henry said. “Oh, I’m so blasted mad right now. I was trying to be stealthy here, you annoying little brat. How did you see me?”

Quinlan blinked, but she narrowed her eyes and took a step forward. Her fingers twitched and the bands of magma around Henry started to squeeze.

“Stop blabbering. Drop that disguise and reveal yourself. Tell me who you are, and then start begging for your life. If you grovel hard enough, I might even consider letting you live.”

Henry couldn’t help himself. He started to laugh. Quinlan’s brow furrowed in anger and she clenched her hand. The molten bands wrapped around Henry, sending a pulse of pain through him. His laughter cut off abruptly.

He couldn’t remember the last time that he’d felt true pain. Quinlan’s attack was barely a scratch, but it still was. Henry snarled, unfurling into his full form. Eyes sprouted across his body and the molten bands snapped as he absorbed them, siphoning their magic like a refreshing drink.

Quinlan drew a rune in the air, sending a bolt of magma shooting at Henry. He flicked his hand and a dark circle formed before the spell, swallowing it and spitting it back out at Quinlan. The magma scored across her shoulder and she cried out in pain.

“Seriously? You don’t even make yourself immune to heat when you use magma magic?” Henry asked, his voice coming out of several mouths across him. Quinlan tripped over her chair and fell to the floor.

She quickly cast another spell, summoning a wave of magma around Henry. He teleported, appearing a few feet to the side. His ire grew with every second. “How am I supposed to explain this? I was being stealthy!”

“Get back!” Quinlan yelled, scrambling back to her feet. She pressed her hand over the wound on her shoulder, grimacing. “I don’t know what the hell you are, but this circle will blow you apart if you step over it. I’ve connected it to my lifeforce, so if I die, this whole place will explode. Neither one of us will survive.”

Ether started to gather behind Henry. A bolt of magma shot at the back of his head. He reached up, catching it. He had eyes on the back of his head, after all. Still, it had been a clever attack. Unfortunately, he wasn’t in the right mood to praise it.

He paced around the circle, muttering to himself furiously. Quinlan stared at him, the bravado fading when she realized that Henry didn’t even respond to her warnings. He jerked to a halt and spun toward her.

“Wait a minute. You threatened me,” Henry said. “What was it you said? To beg for my life?”

Quinlan flicked a rope of magma toward him. Henry grabbed it, ignoring the sting of the magic, and yanked her toward him. She let go, windmilling her arms and just barely managing to stay within her circle.

Henry’s eyes twitched. He considered taking some deep breaths to calm himself like Damien sometimes did. Then he decided against it. That sounded lame. He stepped over the circle. Quinlan’s eyes went wide in horror and she turned, sprinting for the doorway.

He snapped his shadowy fingers. A portal snapped open right in front of Quinlan and she ran through it, reappearing right in front of him. Panic started to set in as she leapt back, tripping over the chair again and falling hard on her back.

A shadow leapt from Henry’s hands, slamming into Quinlan as she tried to stand. It picked her up and slammed her against the wall, pinning her in place.

“What do you want with me?” Quinlan asked. “Are you an enemy of Mountain Hall? I swear, I don’t know who you are.”

“What to do,” Henry muttered to himself. “Shit. If you go missing, I won’t even have a good excuse.”

“Excuse?” Quinlan asked.

Henry’s eyes snapped toward her. “You never answered my question. You, a mere mortal, told me to beg for my life?”

Quinlan swallowed. “…sorry?”

“Sorry,” Henry said with a snort. “Sorry. That’s what I’m going to be saying tomorrow morning, when I explain why you’ve gone on a permanent vacation to the Void. Ah well, you did try to attack me first.”

Quinlan’s eyes widened. “Wait! You can’t kill me!”

“Why not?” Henry asked, cocking his head. “You’re rather irritating. You’ve already tickled me twice, and your runework is so horrid that it makes me want to throw up. And I can’t even throw up!”

“I – didn’t you want to know how I could detect you?” Quinlan asked, her eyes darting around desperately.

“Hmm. I do, actually. Okay, tell me.”

“And then you’ll let me go?”

“No, I’ll just kill you after,” Henry replied. “Whyever would I let you go? Seems pointless. I’m going to have to make a new technique if I want to wander around just because of you. Do you realize what an inconvenience that is? I’ll have to waste days!”

“I don’t want to die,” Quinlan said weakly. “I can’t!”

“Yes you can. You’re mortal,” Henry said irritably. “Come on, tell me how you spotted me. I don’t have all night.”

“No. Why would I help you if you’re going to kill me?”

“Ah. Good point. Bye, then.” Magic started to gather around Henry.

“Wait!” Quinlan begged, tears building up in her eyes. “It’s an artifact! Mountain Hall gave it to me. It lets me sense Ether to a much higher degree than normal. I don’t pose any threat to you, I swear.”

Henry cocked his head. “What use do you have for an artifact like that?”

“Mountain Hall is trying to figure out who killed two of our students in the Crypt,” Quinlan stammered. “They sent people with artifacts like this to all the schools so we could figure out if someone was strong enough to kill them and why they did it. But you’re way too strong to be in the Crypt, so it couldn’t have been you. Please just let me go, I swear on my life I won’t tell anyone about you. It’s in my pocket.”

Henry reached out with a tendril, pulling a small orb dotted with green gems from Quinlan’s pocket. He brought it over to himself and tucked it away. “Hmm. Well, that’s good. I won’t have to make my technique again. Thanks for the info.”

“No! I’ll do anything. I’ll enter a contract. I’ll be your servant. Please!”

Tears poured down her cheeks as she struggled fruitlessly against Henry’s bindings. Henry groaned to himself. He should have gotten rid of her already, but Damien’s disapproving face was growing sharper and sharper in his mind.

“Shit,” Henry said, ripping the bindings away from her and dropping the girl unceremoniously on her face. She scrambled upright, but didn’t try running for the door. Henry gave her credit for that. He was already annoyed enough.

Quinlan pressed her forehead against the ground. “Thank you. Thank you. I swear I won’t tell anyone who you are.”

“No,” Henry agreed, tendrils extending from his body and tracing runes across the ground before her. “You won’t be. I’m going to give you two choices. You offered to do anything to live, so here’s your chance. Either that or die. Your choice.”

“What is it?” Quinlan asked, staring at the runes uncomprehendingly.

“A contract,” Henry replied. “Eight planes, how are you doing anything with runes with this level of understanding? I’ll summarize it. You do exactly what I say, or the Ether I plant inside your heart will explode, ripping you apart so badly that no healer will even get a chance to save you. It’ll go off the moment if you even consider betraying me.”

“E-even if I think about it?”

“The moment you think with intention to act. No second chances. No mistakes,” Henry said. “Your choice. Blood signature, by the way. I don’t have a quill on me.”

Quinlan swallowed. Henry tapped a blank line at the bottom with a tendril. She bit her thumb, drawing blood, and reached out with a shaking hand to press the spot he indicated.

The runes flashed, turning black and coiling up her hand. They disappeared beneath her shirt sleeve, coiling around her chest and gathering at her heart.

“What do you want with me?” Quinlan asked, letting out a shaky breath and desperately trying to hold her composure. The quiver in her lip and her red eyes proved she wasn’t doing a very good job of it, and if Henry had been human, he might have felt the slightest spark of remorse.

Still, he’d managed to find a solution that Damien wouldn’t hold against him for the rest of eternity. That served to slightly assuage the sting of being spotted. As far as he was concerned, the night hadn’t gone all that badly. Maybe some good could come of it yet.

“Well,” Henry said, drawing the word out. “I am in need of some goats.”