After polishing off his BLT—he had successfully piggy-backed off Abigail's desire for her weird, mystery-meat sandwich and conjured exactly what he wanted for himself—Jonathan felt a little more human. Magic really took it out of him, and he really hoped the pain he was feeling when he did it wasn't some dire warning of bad things to come.

"So, Abigail, you said the neighbor taught you how to summon demons?"

"Mr. Geiller? No, he didn't teach me about summoning circles, he just taught me how to empower rituals."

That sure sounded like the same thing to Jonathan, but what did he know? "I think I'll head over there and introduce myself, then. I really need to talk to someone who knows a little more about how this world works."

"Oh, um, I guess that might be a good idea?"

Jonathan eyed Abigail. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Well, Mr. Geiller, uh, doesn't like people very much. He isn't always very nice."

"Hm. Well, I still think it's worth a shot. I really need to talk to someone who might know who owns this building, and it sounds like he knows about magic, which could be really helpful."

"Okay. Good luck. I'll stay in the yard. I haven't gotten a chance to go outside much recently."

How irascible was this guy? Well, Jonathan would just have to hope that Abigail's perspective was biased. She could be incredibly annoying, after all. "I guess there's no time like the present." Jonathan stood up and headed for the front door, with Abigail trailing behind him.

His first obstacle was a lock on the front gate. And just his luck, but it was on the outside of the front gate where he couldn't even reach it.

"Hey Abigail," he called, and she looked up from where she was poking around in one of the plant beds. "Come here, I need your help."

"What's the matter, Jonathan?"

"We're locked in here. I think I can probably climb over this fence—" though being solid wood, it wouldn't be a lot of fun "—but I doubt I can get the lock off on my own. You have any idea where they might have hidden a key nearby?"

Abigail gave the gate a critical once-over. "That doesn't sound like something Missus Campbell would do. Why don't you just open it with magic?"

"You mean, conjure the key?"

"No, just use magic to open it."

"If anyone can just use magic to open a lock, why would people use them in the first place?"

Abigail gave him an exasperated look. "You're a demon. Most people, even people who can use magic, wouldn't be able to just open a lock on a whim. They'd need to find some way to destroy it or something similar."

"What does my being a demon have to do with anything?"

"Demons can use and combine magic from all five realms. Everyone knows that."

"Realms?"

"Yeah, the Seelie Courts, the Gaian Wilds, the Abaddon Expanse, the Fractal Gardens, and the Infernal Abyss."

Jonathan stared blankly at Abigail. "Are these places you can visit? I thought the Infernal Abyss was some sort of alternate dimension or something."

Abigail laughed. "Visit the magical realms? No way, that's impossible. You can summon native denizens to the material world, but I've never heard of someone going the other direction."

Right, in her infinite wisdom as a poorly-educated nine-year-old. Well, whatever. "I want to know more about these magical realms at some point, but we're getting off track. I'm going to get over this fence and take a look at the lock, and I want you to stand here and think about how much you want to be able to leave the yard, okay?"

"Sure thing, Jonathan!"

One indignity-filled sequence of events later, Jonathan was standing on the opposite side of the fence looking in regret at his scraped-up hands and arms, and wondering if the miracle power of the Infernal Abyss could heal bodily harm. Not that he was going to just blindly attempt anything like that, of course. He didn't want to grow an extra arm or poison himself or transform into an actual demon or something. Well, if nothing else, he could probably get Abigail to help him conjure some bandages and antiseptic cream after they dealt with the lock.

Speaking of which…Jonathan inspected the lock. It was a simple enough looking padlock that was threaded through a remarkably modern-looking latch. He had a vague recollection that locks had something to do with tumblers but had no idea what that meant. Yeah, he wasn't going to be able to think his way through unlocking this thing, but what about destroying part of it? That sure sounded appropriately demonic.

Turning his attention to the bar that was threaded through the latch, Jonathan leaned both hands against the wood nearby to support his weight when the inevitable weakness of performing magic hit him and closed his eyes.

His repeated practice was definitely paying off, because the mist around Abigail sprang up almost immediately. It was kind of strange being able to perceive something that was through a solid object, but even more confusing this mist gave him a different impression than the normal red mist he was used to. Jonathan frowned to himself, eyes still closed and tried to focus on it, but the sensations, whatever they were, were still fleeting and difficult to identify. Maybe different desires had different "flavors", for lack of a better word? He wasn't sure what exactly she was desiring, but probably something like "escape" or "freedom" or "movement". He'd have to try and remember the sensation to see if he could identify it more accurately in future.

In any case, if he just kept standing here, she was liable to get impatient, so Jonathan reached for the Infernal Abyss. As soon as he did, his fight-or-flight instincts kicked in, and the smoke whooshed his way. As it was sucked into his chest and he felt the pain rising, Jonathan snapped his eyes open and focused on the bar of the lock. He was going to destroy that bar, and nothing else.

Pain swept through him, and before his eyes the padlock's bar disintegrated into metal dust and blew away as the body of the padlock fell to the ground with a clank, narrowly missing his toes.

"Jonathan?" called Abigail from the other side of the gate. "Did it work?"

"Yeah, yeah, I got it open." Jonathan pushed himself to standing, although he was still wobbly, worked the latch, and gave the gate a tug before turning and half-collapsing to lean against the fence as he waited for his strength to come back.

Abigail poked her head through and eyed the partial padlock lying on the ground. "I guess that's one way to do it. Why didn't you just open it, though? Maybe we could have used it for something."

Jonathan gave her the side-eye. "I don't know how locks work. But I did know it wasn't going to work too well if it wasn't threaded through the gate's latch."

Abigail snorted. "And you're sure you're not a demon, Mr. I Just Destroyed a Perfectly Good Lock for No Reason?" Jonathan glared. "All right, all right, at least we can leave the yard now. Let me know if you need me for anything else, okay?"

Jonathan grunted agreement, and Abigail disappeared back onto the grounds of the orphanage.

As he was still recovering, Jonathan took a moment to examine the nearby surroundings.

Confirming his earlier suspicions, immediately across from him was what appeared to be an empty lot. Just low-lying grass and bushes with the occasional large rock to break up the vegetation. Separating the orphanage from the lot was a packed dirt road that was built up slightly above ground level and appeared at some point in the past to have been graveled, though all that remained now was rutted dirt. To his right, the road entered the trees that ran alongside the orphanage's property and curved out of sight. It looked like the trees were a more sizable wood than he'd thought, because they extended along the border of the empty lot, as well. At the back of the lot was a hill; not quite high enough to be difficult to climb, but high enough that Jonathan couldn't see anything past it.

To his left the road ran more or less straight. The neighbor's house—Mr. Geiller—was the only occupied building that was nearby, though. There were several houses set back at varying distances down the road far side of the road, but they all appeared to be in a state of disrepair. Jonathan couldn't tell where the road went. He'd have expected an orphanage to be at least somewhat close to a city, but this seemed like a pretty pastoral location, give or take the fact that it was plumbed. Huh, come to think, that pretty much guaranteed they were near a town or city, didn't it? Unless they had a well and a pump on the estate, but Jonathan wasn't sure how that would work. Maybe it was maaaaagic! He snorted to himself.

There'd be time to investigate those mysteries another day. For now, he was due to meet the neighbors, and his strength was starting to come back. He really hoped the guy wasn't quite as grumpy as Abigail had described him.

Jonathan walked along the side of the road towards Mr. Geiller's house, cursing under his breath whenever he stepped on a piece of loose gravel. He should have waited on this until he'd had the chance to magic up a pair of shoes for himself.

Jonathan stopped in his tracks as the thought crossed him mind. Wait a minute. Couldn't he just…conjure himself some pants? Why were he and Abigail wasting so much time and energy digging through all the junk in the attic when he could just magically create what they needed? I mean, sure, magic caused him a ton of pain, but…pants!

Jonathan almost turned around and marched right back to Abigail, but he was still feeling a little weak from destroying the lock, and he'd come this far. Might as well finish what he set out to do before he got sidetracked. It was just…pants!

Nothing for it. Jonathan turned and strode with renewed vigor toward Mr. Geiller's house, determined to get some answers and then head straight back to the orphanage and conjure himself some god-damned pants.