“Yeah, yeah,” I grumbled, before shouting. “I’m coming!”

I jogged down to the door, sunlight shimmering through every window. It looked to be a good day. I put the chain on, before opening the door. Outside stood Anthony, wearing that shark smirk of his. Never a break.

“Sorry to disturb you, my young pupil,” he said, the jolly tone telling the truth of how sorry he was. “But I received word that you were sick. As your mentor, I felt it my duty to come check up on you.”

I waited a moment, letting the tiredness leave my mind. I needed all my wits if I was to speak the green monstrosity.

“I’m fine, Anthony,” I said. “After last night, my parents got worried and told me to stay home.”

“Ah, of course!” he said, clapping his hands together. “The love of a parental figure. Truly an inspirational thing. May I come in?”

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Is that any way to speak to a guest? You are only making this harder for yourself. Let me in.”

My body moved on its own, closing the door in his face and unlatching the chain, before opening fully for the demon to enter. He did so, a spring in his step. Yesterday had apparently made him incredibly happy. He looked around the house a bit, from the entrance, before turning back to me.

“This is quite the home you have here, young Jacob. Your father must be a very wealthy man.” Sadly, that doesn’t help me much right now. Maybe there’s a demon that kills other demons for money? Food for thought.

“Tell me, where do you keep the tome? A secure place, I hope. Wouldn’t do if one of your family members were to read it.”

“In my room.”

“Ah yes, of course! The most dependable place to hide something, is the first place where someone would look for it. Ingenious, really.”

I wasn’t sure whether he was joking or not, but when he didn’t comment further, I shrugged and led him up the stairs to my room. Nothing else was on the second floor, my dad deciding he didn’t need the space, so I had the entire thing for myself. A king-sized bed dominated the middle of the room, placed upon a bright wooden floor. The walls were curved upwards, the lowest part only being a meter and a half tall. Anthony immediately went for the middle of the room, the only place where he could stand fully. Bookshelves were the dominant piece of furniture, four big ones filled to the brim placed around the room. A wooden chest stood in front of my bed, open wide. His eyes, however, were focused on the open tome on my bed. I wondered what he saw, since he said he couldn’t read it. Was it just blank to him? He stared for a moment more, before shaking himself from his daze.

“…Oh, right!” he exclaimed, as if he had forgotten something. “You are probably wondering for the reason for my presence, so I will make it short. I need you to perform a summoning.”

Oh no. Please don’t do this. He couldn’t read my mind, but he didn’t need to, my emotions painted on my face. His smile widened.

“If you would be so kind as to tell me what you will need to summon an uhyr-hund, I would appreciate it immensely.”

I went over to the book and started paging through it, until the name appeared before me. He seemed to wait for me to start talking, but when I didn’t, his eyes furrowed, and his smile withered.

“What do you need,” he commanded. I looked at him, my eyes pleading for mercy, before the order took hold.

“cattle, three of both genders,” I read mechanically, despite my inner rage. “A cat, white of color…”

“Yes?”

“…”

“Say it!” he demanded, and I was powerless to refuse.

“Two humans. One of both genders.” I was crying, though my tone revealed nothing.

“Excellent! I’ll have the ingredients prepared for tomorrow. Be sure to show up. I’ll come and get you if you don’t.”

***

It was midday now, but I had still not moved from my bed, the dread at having condemned two people to death keeping me in place. 71 was sitting in the windowsill, staring out into the silent streets, when he suddenly stirred.

“Someone’s coming,” he told me. I looked at him but decided that I was too tired to try and hurt him. I settled for throwing my pillow at him, dissipating him once more.

“Stop doing that!”

I ignored him, a small smile gracing my lips, the discomfort of the one who kept me in this prison my only relief. I glanced at the salt circle. There was a hole, the size of a footprint. My mother’s probably, unless someone broke in. She denied it whenever I asked her, but I knew she kept a key. It would be easy to assign her some of the blame, but in the end, she was more innocent than me. She couldn’t see infernals, after all. The door bell sounded once more, interrupting my ponderings. I knew it wasn’t Anthony, or 71 would have kept quiet. It wasn’t my parents either, they both had keys. I got up once more. Every step towards the door was a slog, my body was barely responding. But still, I moved towards it. The doorbell rang again, the sound giving me a beating headache. I considered lying down on the staircase, but I knew I probably wouldn’t get up again. Once I reached it, I almost fell onto the door handle, my legs reducing to a fraction of their, already diminished, strength. I pulled the door open, only to find my eyes narrowing in suspicion.

In the doorway, stood the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. She had platinum blonde hair and bright blue eyes, accompanied by a welcoming smile. Her skin was pale, but not unhealthily so. She was wearing a white, sleeveless turtleneck and a simple pair of blue jeans. What really pulled my attention, however, was the mark she bore on her right hand. A triangle with a cross guarded sword in the middle. I recognized it from somewhere. She met my eyes, a soft smile on her lips.

“Hello!” she greeted cheerfully, her voice as soft as birdsong. “My name is Alia Redford,” she explained. “I’m with the Ruberian rescue service. We travel the neighborhood in search of kind Samaritans, to help out those affected by the war. Would you like to donate?”

She stopped for a moment as she took in my appearance, her soft features creasing in worry.

“My, are you alright?” She asked me. “Do you need any help?”

“I do want to donate,” I answered slowly, my throat sounding agitated. I then gave her a fifty crown-note, which she hesitantly took. “I am not alright, and I do not need any help.”

Normally I was all too happy to interact with the kind-hearted people of the RRS, but I really wasn’t in the mood. Still, I could not refuse to donate. Those were my dad’s rules.

“please leave.”

She seemed stumped at my direct response, her mouth opening and closing several times. Then her mark started glowing, pulling both of our attentions towards her hand for but a moment, before hers narrowed at me. That can’t be good. A blade of fire materialized in her hand, which she promptly took to my throat. I saw demons start pouring out of the woodwork, both figuratively and literally, surrounding her from behind. Guess I’m more important than I thought. Maybe I’m their only warlock?

“Infernal filth!” she growled. “Tell me why I should not kill you now?”

She knows of the demons? Maybe she could help me! I was about to explain as much to her, but I was intercepted as another answered.

“Because you would not make it a single step afterwards,” came the suggestive voice of B-07. Alia looked behind her, only to pale as she realized her situation. Wait, she can see infernals too? I guess it makes sense, she is clearly using magic. A small legion of demons surrounded her in a half moon shape, using the walls of my house to cut off all avenues of escape.

She turned her back to me, apparently judging me a non-threat. An honest assessment, considering my current condition, but insulting nonetheless. She grabbed her fiery blade with both hands, apparently ready to face her death, the heat intensifying as she burned through her reserves. Not that a sword will do her much good against telepaths, the surrounding demons pouring their mental energy at her, causing her to crumble to the ground. The demons started to move in, probably thinking to take her to their master. Yeah, no. I wasn’t about to let him gain another magic user. That would put both of us in a terrible position. Luckily, last night hadn't been a complete fiasco, despite my physical condition.

I felt for my magic, opening the gates that held it back. It appeared from my hand like a sky-blue mist, floating into the air like vapor. I took control of it and swirled it into a wall surrounding the entrance to my home, before hardening it, the mist turning into an ice-like substance. The demons came to an abrupt stop, as I cut them off from the girl and me.

“You are interfering,” said B-07. Despite his near robotic personality, it was very clear that he was displeased, his non-existent brows furrowing.

“Clearly.”

“Our master will not be happy with this.”

“I know.”

The demons waited a moment more, as if expecting me to concede. When I didn’t, they turned around, their eyes flashing rapidly as they communicated with their peers.

Once they left, I seized control of the wall once more, transforming it back into gas. I then wrapped the blue mist around the girl, before lifting her with my mind. She floated behind me as I walked back in, my lack of control making her hit her head on the wall from time to time. She would probably have a headache when she woke.

I reached my room, where I unceremoniously dumped her on my bed, before taking the tome from it and moving to a gray beanbag that laid in my room. 71 remained sitting and silent, though his eyes were full of conflicting emotions. I continued where I left off: “Chapter 8: The intricacies of contracts.”