The next day, Luke directed the younger and stronger Ambrose to place massive bones around the circle. He placed the gold and gems himself after spotting the sticky-fingered artist slipping a small diamond into his pocket. He particularly liked putting two large emeralds in the eye sockets of a beast with a mouthful of fearsome teeth. Oh, what he could have made their circle with more time and infinite wealth. He had to content himself with a few embellishments.

That night, Ambrose departed to deliver a message to their conspirator, leaving Luke to guard the circle. Perched on a seat raised from the earth by his elemental Root, he stared at his work long into the night. Contemplating.

A part of him wondered if he should be the one to contract the drakkon. The last specimen summoned to their realm had both the wind and the fire affinities. He could forget their crazy plan to threaten the king and take the powerful elemental to the south. Take over a remote village and live a life of leisure.

He discarded the thought immediately. If he betrayed the others, they’d surely betray him and the king would not allow him to live peacefully. The last drakkon had scarred the kingdom too deeply. Even rumors of one roaming free would have drastic consequences. If the king didn’t come after him, every knight with dreams of being the next Harvest Hero and every hunter who wanted a little gold would.

He couldn’t stop himself from thinking something about their plan was going to go horribly wrong. They were dealing with forces they couldn’t control. The drakkon. Nobility. Succubi. Engaging with one of those forces could be deadly. Mixing all three was bound to be catastrophic. Drinking dulled his worries and he ended up draining several bottles, provided by their leader for this exact purpose, after which he passed out half inside his sleeping roll.

A boot to the side woke him the next morning. Emerett smiled down at him, though it was strained. Lazarus, who stood beside him, openly frowned. “Is this what you call guarding our interests, Lord Tome?” the prideful summoner bit out.

“Surely, you didn’t expect me to stay awake all night.” Luke rubbed his head to soothe the faint pounding inside it as he climbed to his feet. “Emerett.”

“Lord Tome. I take it your nerves are settled?”

“After consuming so much, I’d be surprised if they weren’t dead.”

Luke spared a moment to glare at Lazarus before clearing his throat. “Give me a moment to wash my face and I’ll be ready to attend anything.”

“No rush. We are still waiting for Lord Mason to arrive. He had business to attend to this morning and will be running late.”

“Running late? Or running?”

“I have faith in our comrade. Besides, Ambrose is accompanying him.”

If Junior wanted to leave town, the young artist wouldn’t present the smallest of obstacles. Luke kept the thought to himself as he stepped outside, grimacing as he relieved himself in the grass before calling another of his elementals to clean up. It wasn’t often that he thought of himself as pampered, but he couldn’t take much more roughing it.

Back inside, Lazarus was inspecting the circle while Emerett had disappeared. After a moment of indecision, he moved toward the other summoner. He didn’t care for the man’s opinions in general, but he couldn’t sit by while another examined his work. The whole situation was making Luke uncomfortable. For all his life, summoning was a personal thing. His heart laid bare to be judged. What lay before him was not his heart precisely, but it still felt wrong to have another man’s eyes roving over it so intensely.

“It’s good work,” Lazarus said without looking up.

The compliment eased some of Luke’s discomfort. “Do you have a strategy?”

“Strategies never survive contact with unknown elementals. I have a basis that I use to approach all powerful elementals. Mostly, it depends on the personality of our future ally.”

“Hm.” It felt like a half-hearted answer but Luke couldn’t afford a better one. “I never asked how you became a summoner.”

Lazarus looked up, scrutinizing Luke’s face. Looking for what, the noble couldn’t guess. Perhaps mockery. The man didn’t seem like he would tolerate an insult, no matter how slight. Thankfully, Luke’s question was innocent, something the proud summoner must have seen as he began to talk after turning his gaze back to the circle.

“My family has never had a talent for magic. We are only born with basic affinities and a poor talent for building our cores. Thankfully, my forefathers knew better than to settle for lives as laborers. They made their living as scholars. Researchers, advisers, and tutors. As such, their private library was quite extensive. It included summoning records.”

Lazarus shook his head. “I couldn’t believe my eyes when I read them. There it was, a way for the magically stunted to achieve power of their own and my father was content, no, proud to serve ignorant men too stupid to count their own treasuries and chase around their entitled brats. When I told them we should turn our considerable intellect and resources to other realms, they called me insane. When I persisted, they stripped me of my name. And good riddance. I have no need for it or the fools who carry it.”

He turned to Luke. “There is so much beyond our little kingdom. These creatures I invite to my circles. They casually drop secrets of existence like nobles throwing crumbs to their birds for amusement. I’ve never attempted to form a contract. With my abysmal talent, I could only do it once and I wanted it to make a difference. I believed that summoning could change my life. And soon, it will.”

“I see.” His voice held absolute conviction. Luke appreciated his faith in the art, but he suspected that the man had never faced a difficult summoning. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have such confidence. The best summoner was a cautious summoner. His attitude would get him in trouble eventually. Suddenly, Luke didn’t have high hopes for the coming negotiation.

“Since we are making an effort to know one another, there is something I’ve been meaning to ask. Your family has practiced summoning for generations. Why aren’t you high nobles, at the very least?”

“You would find it hard to prosper with a family like the Grimoires hounding you and all your descendants as well.”

“There are plenty of things that can handle a thrall or five.”

“None that I would like to make a deal with.”

“I see. So you would rather be dogs than make a few sacrifices.”

In his mind, Luke adjusted his view of the other man from stout believer to quiet fanatic. “Those sacrifices you’re talking about could mean anything from sacrificing half our children to helping them burn the world. Some prices are too steep for anyone’s coin purse.”

“Hmph.”

“I hope you don’t take such an attitude into tonight’s summoning.”

Lazarus scoffed. “There’s no need to be afraid. I won’t promise our new comrade your head. But you should prepare yourself. These beings aren’t like us. They have wants and desires that we don’t and could never understand. Not understanding won’t hold me back. I mean to make a contract tonight and if that means offering up a few infants or burning a few cities, that’s what I’ll do.”

“Ah.” Luke decided it was a good moment to walk away, unwilling to absorb any more of the man’s lunacy. When they’d first proposed their plan, Luke had wondered who would be the unfortunate sacrifice forced to form the contract with the drakkon. He couldn’t believe his ears when he heard someone had volunteered.

After meeting Lazarus, he assumed it was because the proud summoner was stupidly confident in his own abilities. Now, he didn’t know what to think of the man except he no longer wanted to be in the same room when he began his negotiations.