Childhood fears are a strange thing. When you’re young, the simplest things seem impossibly complex and the easiest obstacles insurmountable.

As a child, Gordon and the Grimoires were worse than the imaginary monsters that lurked in gloomy corners or within the unfathomable darkness beneath my bed. They were real, flesh and blood, and they would be with me always, there to terrorize me even after I’d grown up. For the longest time, I accepted that I would be oppressed by the Grimoires with the same certainty that I knew the sun would rise and set every day.

Now, as I approach the two-year mark since my faithful encounter with the glossiest elemental in all the realms, that certainty has been turned upside down along with the rest of my life. The Grimoires, the Tome family’s greatest fear for generations, are no more. Humbled into retaking their original name and made the puppets of the creatures they once treated as pets. My childhood bully, Junior, is nothing more than a puppet. All his family’s wealth, power, and traditions have been turned against him, made to serve another’s purpose. His family made to serve another’s purpose, at the whim of a Tome.

The scowl he wears as he prepares to take his free shot at me thoroughly communicates how much he hates me. I have no doubt that he is going to use this opportunity to put me down, or at least try to with all the strength he’s capable of.

I’m sure, to him, my death is the answer to all his problems. Too bad my dying will do nothing to improve his life. Even if he could kill me, Geneva, the highest-ranking succubus in this realm, has already ordered all the succubi contracted by the Masons to ignore their orders. Fen will never again be under his control.

Saints, I don’t want to imagine what that creature would do to him if she wasn’t constrained by my arbitrary rules and Geneva’s agenda. He should be thanking me for whatever peace he has in his unfortunate life, but deep thought has never been his family’s strong suit. They prefer to strong-arm their problems. Hence, Junior getting ready to pummel me rather than stress his peanut-sized mind.

“You’re really going to stand there and let me hit you?” he asks skeptically, his eyes glowing as he channels mana. “I won’t be holding back. At all.”

“Didn’t expect you to.” I watch in growing amusement as he shakes himself and balls his hands into fists. “How have you been, Junior? Has Fen been treating you well?”

He sneers. “Oh, great. She keeps me clean and fed. Sometimes, I even get three meals a day. How about your pets? They treating you well?”

“Looking for tips from the better summoner?”

“Better summoner my ass. Do Tomes even summon anymore? Your cousin wants nothing to do with your prized art and all you’ve done with your so-called talent is copy my family.”

“Is that meant to be an insult? Cause you’re only insulting yourself. The Grimoires have done nothing but copy each other for literal centuries. At least the Tomes have made advances in the field.”

“Are you talking about your father’s little theory? Sure, it was original but it’s useless, isn’t it?” His mouth opens again, but no words come out. Junior trembles, as if fighting something, but ultimately closes his mouth and shakes his head. “This back and forth is pointless. I’m ready.”

“Give it your best.”

The bastard doesn’t even have the decency to hesitate before throwing one of his meaty fists at my face, oh so slowly. Saints, it would be so easy to move out of the way, but I let the blow connect. It barely has enough weight to turn my face and it certainly doesn’t do any damage. “Is that all you have?”

He roars and hits me again. When he attempts a third blow, I catch his wrist and my opposite hand lightly grabs him by the throat. “Ah ah,” I mock, shaking him like a child disciplining a misbehaving pet. “You only get two tries.”

“All that power…” he forces out between the pressure of my grip and his grit teeth. “…and you’re still clueless.”

Clueless? That has to be a joke. If anyone is clueless, it’s him. “No need to be a sore loser.” I toss him away, Junior stumbling as he struggles to keep his balance. “Walk if off and grab a drink. The night is still young.”

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He grunts while rubbing his throat. “You look different but underneath it all, you’re still the same Lou.” His tone suggests that his parting shot is meant to be an insult, but he leaves it at that, still massaging his throat as he moves toward the drinks table.

I let him go. Junior is the last person I need to argue with. I’ve won against him in every way, including the ways that don’t matter. If throwing a few cryptic barbs makes him feel better, I’m not so petty as to deny him.

“Anyone else?” I query the crowd. “A free shot at me with no consequences. A small fortune in goodies and all you have to do is put me down. Anyone? Anyone at all?” I snicker when no one takes me up on my offer. “That’s fine. Thank you to all my contenders. I hope everyone enjoyed the show.”

Right on cue, the angry music changes to something more relaxing, Talia’s powerful voice softening and my servants quick to adjust the music accompanying her. Conversation picks up, the crowd mainly discussing my little performance and its consequences. Several tongues wag with speculation about the Hall’s reaction to the giant hole in our wall. A hole that is letting in a draft in. Bell, do something about that.

As my imp scampers over to raise a wall of earth, I make my way over to Alyssa. Lane still hasn’t left the redhead’s side and, judging from how tense he looks and the way the instructor isn’t paying any attention to him, I assume he still hasn’t mustered the courage to confess. He stares at me as I approach but doesn’t say anything, choosing to focus on his drink instead. Which suits me fine as I have nothing to say to him. “Will that do for a demonstration?” I ask Alyssa.

“Yeah.” The redhead sighs. “I’m sure Jack saw enough to put in a word with the guilds. Pretty hard to take revenge on a woman that can’t be killed. From the chatter I heard, the side arguing to take you down figured that as long as they could separate you from your elf, you’d be the easiest target to take out, but you definitively put that suspicion down. He used the worm on you, didn’t he?”

“The what?”

“Blade worming through your gut.”

“Oh, yeah. Very unpleasant.”

“Wasn’t supposed to feel good.” We share a chuckle. “Hey, uh…thanks. If that proved anything, it’s that you don’t need to bother deescalating. I don’t even want to imagine what it would take to kill you. Reminds me of the stories the guilds have of the legendary monsters they’ve brought down. Beasts so strong and tough entire guilds mobilized to bring them down.”

“They have records?”

“Oh, yeah. Big musty tomes they keep in locked chests and those are kept in vaults. I imagine they like them more than summoners like their records.”

“I doubt it.”

“Don’t be so quick to. I know they haven’t given the best impression, but the guilds are old institutions with a lot of history. They’ve done as much to settle this continent as the royal army or any noble house. And some of the creatures they had to take down. There were a lot more Harvest heroes back then. And I mean heroes. They didn’t have time for petty nonsense like kidnapping brewers.”

“No. They were too busy slaughtering the original lords of this land.”

Shake steps up beside us. The look she gives Alyssa…it isn’t mean, I suppose. Maybe a little challenging. And the instructor returns it, somehow both expressing her exasperation and her readiness to handle any unwanted confrontations. “Yeah, I’ve read about the creatures the Temple worshipped. They would have us digging roots out of the ground instead of farming.”

“Living in harmony with the land, according to the natural cycles of the world.”

“I don’t know about you, but I like getting my meat from a market. And plumbing.”

The big woman scoffs. “Humanity is its own race, with its own needs and quirks. Conflict is expected. Greatness would have been finding the way to reconcile our needs with those of the teachers who gave us their wisdom and welcome. Instead, when their ways conflicted with the vision of men, their solution was to kill them and raze their lands.”

“Did you want an apology or something?” the redhead snipes, frustration evident in her tone. “Cause you’re not getting one. I don’t care how intelligent they were, a beast is a beast. I and no one else should feel guilty putting down a threat. They sure as shit wouldn’t have spared us.”

“No apology needed. You bear their sins but not their fault. When you mentioned the glory of the guilds of old, I could not let the comment pass without mentioning their shame. But that is not why I am here.” She turns to me with a big grin. “Your communion ended earlier than I thought.”

I smile back at her, mostly because I’m happy that she isn’t the kind of fanatic that would ruin a good party arguing with someone about her beliefs till someone runs out of breath, figuratively or literally. “That’s your fault. Throwing us through a wall is a hard act to follow.”

“You are remarkably resistant to blunt force. It is a shame Ruby did not partake. I was curious to see how you would handle magic.”

“Pretty resistant to that too. The elements, I mean. A knife cutting apart my guts is as harmful to me as anyone else.”

“Not quite. You stood back up.”

“That’s because I heal better than anyone else.”

“I had hoped to discuss that. If you do not mind talking about yourself.”

“I’ve got nothing to hide.” Not really. I already decided to be freer with my affinities and I’m sure rumors of the March have spread by now. “If you’ll excuse me,” I say to Alyssa and Lane. The redhead waves me off while her lackey ignores us. I wonder what’s going through his mind but not for long. One of Shake’s hands grabs my shoulder and I let her lead me away.