Imp: An Urban Fantasy Novella

by Dunbar, Debra

Az pouted. The female dwarf was short and round with an equally round face and heavy limbs. Her braided hair almost touched the floor, and the light fuzz on her chin was the same silver blond. Az’s brothers and sisters cursed at Mere, tried to bite and scratch her, arrogantly walked out when she was talking to them. The dwarf never got mad. She’d restrain them, punish them, patiently maneuver them where she wanted them, always with a calm, placid air.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Az gave in, scratching the floor with a back claw.

  Mere’s eyes narrowed. “Az, you are not paying attention here. You cannot Own another demon. It would drive you insane. You’re lucky you failed with this one and just killed him.”

  “I didn’t try to Own him,” she insisted. “Yuck.”

  Mere didn’t believe her. “I know you don’t Own much at this point. You’re the youngest and you’re just an imp. You’ll have plenty of time to Own all sorts of creatures, and if you manage to stay alive, you may even be able to Own a human or two. But not another demon. Never another demon.”

  “I wasn’t trying to Own him.”

  “Especially one that strong. He’d fight you for control, probably win. He’d assume your form and eject you into oblivion.”

  “I consumed him, shredded him. I didn’t Own him.”

  “And you’re lucky you didn’t or you’d be dead. Even a Low will drive you insane if you Own him.”

  Az shook one of her heads. Might as well just shut up. Mere wasn’t going to believe her and the sooner this lecture was over the sooner she could go look for that elf boy in the woods. Or maybe go relax in the swamp. She fixed one head on Mere, to look attentive, and daydreamed about reeds and rushes. About mud so deep she sank in up to her shoulders. About those bitey little fish that tasted sour and rancid when she ate them. It was her favorite place. Well, It had been her favorite place until that elf started playing with her. Now that he was gone, she might as well go back to the swamp.

  “You’ve always been so greedy, Az. At this rate you’ll run through your trust fund before you’ve reached maturity.”

  There was silence and Az realized the lecture was over. “Yes, ma’am,” she said and headed for the door.

  She didn’t make it far. Dar was waiting a discrete distance from the house, ready to pounce the moment she walked out.

  “What happened? Why was Pere carrying him out like that?”

  Az kept walking. Her legs weren’t long, so it wasn’t hard for Dar to keep up. “It went fine. No issues at all.”

  “But why was Pere carrying him? Was there a fight? Did he get knocked out?”

  “Nope,” she lied. “Everything was fine. Pere was just assisting him to leave.”

  Dar didn’t believe her. “He was carrying him, Az. His head was banging along the ground, his tongue dragging through the dirt. It was a fight. I know a beaten-up demon when I see one.”

  Evidently Dar didn’t know a dead demon when he saw one. If she didn’t tell him something, he’d never leave her alone, though.

  “Yes. There was a fight over the payment or something. Pere had to subdue him.”

  She swiveled a head around and saw Dar, staring intently at her with his little red eyes, like glowing dots in his furry face. She was a terrible liar, but for some weird reason, Dar often believed her. This time he did.

  “Why would they fight over payment? It’s pre-set by level. And it’s not like you don’t have enough money. I’ve heard your trust fund is huge.”

  She’d need every coin too, if she kept on this path. “He thought they’d misrepresented my level, that I was lower in status.”

  Payment was greater the lower the demon. There was no glory in giving service or instruction to scum. Dar nodded knowingly. It was a convincing lie. Her status was based on her formation, on her potential skills and abilities per her makers. Siblings weren’t supposed to know each other’s status until the age of maturity, but information had a way of leaking out. No one believed it when Az’s status had been whispered. She was unimpressive so far, a little imp. There was no way an imp would ever have a potential status that high. Not that it mattered. Come their age of maturity, they’d be on their own, to fight they way up from ground zero. What their makers planned, what their potential status had been would be of no account at that point.

  “How bad did Pere whack him?” Dar asked gleefully. Dwarves had special skills, and Pere was legendary.

  “Just stunned. He’s going to put him somewhere until he comes to, then send him on his way.” And then, he’d mysteriously be killed by one of her older, bigger, stronger siblings. Az wondered who would get the credit for the kill. Probably Paquit. He was the golden boy of their group, the one everyone would consider smart and tough enough to take down an older demon. He was also the meanest, the cruelest. It wouldn’t be beyond belief for him to have killed at such a young age.

  “I’m going to the swamp,” she told Dar, flapping her wings to show him she was leaving.

  Dar couldn’t fly in his current form, and hadn’t been able to assume a form with wings yet, so he always was left behind when she flew. This time, Az was purposely avoiding him to gain some much needed alone time. Dar was a pain in the ass, and would probably track her. At least she’d have a couple of hours alone until he showed up to pester her.

  Three hours later she heard him, crashing through the rushes and cursing loudly as the sharp edges cut into his legs. She’d eaten a dozen of those bitey fish, and was napping, half submerged in the mud, when he almost stepped on one of her heads.

  “Watch out, Dar, you clumsy fuck. I don’t need your paw up my nose.”

  Dar jumped a foot out of the water and landed on his rump with a splash. He swished his tail in irritation, splashing her with the murky water.

  “You scared the crap out of me. I don’t know why you like it here, there are all kind of nasty plants that make me itch for days.”

  Az lifted a head and took a bite from one of the plants in question. “Tastes great,” she teased.

  “Never mind. You won’t believe what I just heard,” he gossiped. “That demon who taught you to breed? Paquit killed him!”

  Dar sat back in triumph, awaiting her amazed response. Paquit. Just what she’d thought.

  “Really?” She was unable to put any enthusiasm in her voice whatsoever. “Wow. How about that.”

  “Evidently he saw Pere with him, and after the demon left, Paquit jumped him. I don’t understand why he killed him though. Why didn’t he just beat him up? It’s going to drain his trust fund dry to pay that weregeld.”

  Az felt pissed off all over again. No, it was going to drain her trust fund dry.

  “He had to kill him,” she told Dar. “It’s not like that demon was going to put up with a juvenile smacking him around. It would have destroyed his reputation. His whole household would have deserted him.”

  Demons didn’t normally kill each other, accidents and long standing feuds aside. But if a demon lower in status got the upper hand, it was worth it to go all the way. Death was preferable to a huge drop in level.

  “Really? How far would his level have dropped?”

  “Not to Low or anything,” Az assured him. “Remember the calculation? Use Paquit’s potential status, which is pretty high, then subtract the age modifier, add the household size, which is zero for Paquit, and adjust by the constant. That gives you the group.”

  Group was pretty vague, but it was the best evaluation at any given time. Within a group, individual status levels could fluctuate daily, even hourly depending on who did what. There was a lot of subjectivity, too. Position in the hierarchy depended quite a bit on bravado and other’s opinions, no matter if they were true or not.

  The facts were that one demon was dead, Az’s trust fund was significantly smaller, and there was a household seeking new affiliation. Paquit was going to start his adult demon life with a huge jump in status. He’d probably start farther up in the hierarchy than any demon had in centuries. He’d also have a huge targ
et on his back. Of course, everyone in his peer group would be eager to affiliate themselves with such a powerful young demon. As if his ego weren’t big enough now.

  That evening everyone was congratulating Paquit. Three times he recounted the tale of how he surprised the demon and took him down. The details of the fight, how he’d finally been forced to kill the demon had them all riveted to their seats. Paquit was an amazing liar.

  “You met him for your breeding lesson, right Az?” Dilg asked her. She had stork-like legs, a long furry body with a huge tail, and long talons at the end of her four arms. Az eyed her carefully, in case she hooked one of those talons under a scale and ripped it off. She’d done it before. Many times before.

  “Yeah. It was pretty straight forward. Didn’t take long.”

  Dilg edged closer. Az scooted away. “What was he like? Was he really powerful? How strong was he?”

  Az scooted a few more inches. “It was a breeding lesson. We didn’t duke it out. I have no idea how strong he is. Was.”

  “But Dar said he and Pere fought, that Pere carried him out,” Dilg insisted. “You must have seen it. What happened?”

  “He and Pere argued over the fee and Pere escorted him out. No big deal.”

  Dilg looked her over with a critical eye. She didn’t think much of Az’s status, didn’t think she’d amount to much of anything. It was insulting, but it’s not like she was the only one who had these thoughts.

  “Paquit is amazing. To have killed a demon thousands of years older, to surprise him by ambush, then be strong enough to overpower him? Amazing.” Dilg did a jerky, bobbing series of movements with her beak. “When I reach the age of maturity, I’m going to petition him.”

  Az stifled a laugh. “You’ll be dead before then. Fuck, Paquit will probably be dead before then.”

  Dilg’s dark eyes narrowed to slits. “No one will petition you, Az. Even the Low won’t want you.”

  It didn’t even sting anymore; she’d heard it so many times. She’d endure it. Then she’d go back to the swamp. She’d spend her life rolling in the mud, swimming through the green slime, munching bitey fish. She’d fly when she felt like it. Maybe she’d go look for an elf to play with. Hide from all the other demons. It would be a good life.

  Chapter 2

  Az sat in the room and fidgeted as she waited for the class to begin. It had been a week since she’d killed the breeding instructor. A week of listening to Paquit brag. A week of hearing her siblings gush over his prowess. A week of Paquit smirking as he stomped her and ripped her wings to ribbons.

  Even here in Dis, where she and her sibling group had been sent for special lessons, demons were all buzzing with the news of the young one who’d made a remarkable kill. Initially they were impressed when they learned she knew Paquit, was in his sibling group, but then they shunned her once they discovered that she was a lowly imp and his favorite punching bag.

  A few weeks of lessons to get through, then they would all go home to wait for their day of maturity. The thought scared her a bit. She was still so young. Too young, really, but there was nothing to be done about that. Survive or die.

  She shifted in her chair. Everyone had to be bipedal upon entering the room. No wings allowed either. It felt awkward, but there was punishment if a demon was caught on four legs or winged inside.

  “The imp isn’t in a box today,” a whispered voice behind her mocked. “Yesterday she was three times.”

  Az sat very still and pretended she didn’t hear. She’d defied the rules and ended up being stuffed in a box. Three times. By the end of the day, her wings had been bent backward. She’d had to fix them while everyone watched and laughed.

  The instructor walked in with a stack of bound parchment in his hands. Az breathed a sigh of relief, feeling the attention in the room turn from her to him. He was very pretty with sharply angled ankles and long toes attached to fleshy legs. His torso was short and square and amazing wings and a bird head rose high above the rest, disproportionately large to his body. The beak alone was longer than his legs. Az stared at the intermittent feathers decorating his membrane wings. The other demons had always scorned feathers, but they looked very attractive on this demon. It took great confidence to use feathers in a physical form since they were considered a weak affectation, too close to those the angels’ supposedly had.

  The instructor introduced himself, reciting eight names and titles that indicated his status. He told the demon young that they were to call him Aaeupho Sri. Sri was the polite reference to his level in the hierarchy. None of the demons in the class would ever call him anything but Sri. To do otherwise would be disrespectful.

  “Here is your first test,” he said to the classroom as he passed out the booklets. “I will be back in fifteen minutes to collect them. Good luck.”

  Az looked at the booklet before her as the professor left the room. All around her were the sounds of other students breaking the seals and turning pages of parchment. Taking a deep breath, she looked at the cover with its flowing red script. Probably blood. She didn’t dare to reach out with her energy and check it though. Last time she’d done it, the text had sprang to life, biting clear though her scales and hanging on while she flailed about.

  Around her she heard small explosions and squeals of pain. Ignoring them, she gritted her teeth and fingered the seal on the booklet. The demon next to her shrieked as his booklet shocked him. He smacked it on the table and bit it in retaliation. This was stupid. Fuck this test. Pushing the booklet aside, its seal still intact, she sat and watched the show.

  About halfway through the allotted time, she heard a much larger explosion and turned to see one of her classmates on fire. He banged his leathery body frantically on the metal floor trying to put the fire out that was spreading from his test booklet to his sparse hair. The neighboring students helpfully peed on him to help extinguish the fire. Az turned back to her test, tensing for the explosion she figured would come at any moment. It probably didn’t matter whether she opened it or not. Eventually it was going to blow, igniting her in the process. Hopefully someone would be kind enough to pee on her, too.

  Amazingly the time lapsed without explosion. She looked down at the booklet with dread. She’d survived without damage, but once the instructor saw she hadn’t even opened the thing, he would no doubt do worse to her. Every single classmate around her had smut and soot on them from little and big explosions. A few had blistering burns that oozed. She’d had those before, and they were not pleasant. Hopefully those demons had the ability to heal quickly.

  The instructor came back into the room and looked about with a superior air in his beady black bird eyes. As he surveyed the room , he walked among the seated students, scorn in his little eyes. “I am pleased to see that none of you are dead yet.”

  He paused in front of Az and frowned at her with a brief flash of bewilderment then a steely assessment. She respectfully kept her gaze just below his eyes, in the region of his long feathered throat. Without a word he picked up her test booklet and examined the intact seal.

  “Why did you not do the test?”

  Az could feel the excitement of the other demons, waiting for the instructor to grab her and tear a limb off, or stomp one of her heads onto the floor.

  She was tired of it all. Tired of being burned, stabbed, clawed, bit, and ripped apart. Tired of avoiding everyone and worrying about what they’d do to her. Fuck them. Fuck them and their rules and their stupid box and their stupid test. If she was going to live with constant pain and punishment, then she might as well go into it with a decent attitude.

  “And burst into flames? Fuck that.”

  The answer was disrespectful. He’d tear her to little bits of flesh for this. Az tensed, ready for the blow and, she felt the waves of anger cascading off him.

  Glancing around with her left and right head, she noticed that she was the only student without burns or smut marks. Ah well. Fuck it. Not like she was good at anything anyway. Just living down to
her potential here. She sat up straight to take her punishment like the young adult she was.

  “Leave the room,” the professor snarled, an odd clicking noise behind his words that demons often used when they were hunting prey. “I will see you in private after the class. Do not return until then.”

  Az nodded without meeting the professor’s eyes and rose to leave, well aware that every gaze in the classroom was upon her. She’d be in for it later. Time to go find a swamp, or a rock to hide under until this instructor forgot about her, or until another demon did something stupid enough to divert his attention.

  Once outside, she quickly resumed her usual form, with four legs and wings, and flew to a pond just a short mile off. Punishment was something she could contemplate later. Right now the sun was warm, and the grass smelled lush and green beneath her feet. She’d spent yesterday in a box, gotten kicked out of her lecture today, it was time to put it all behind her and relax, soaking up the sunshine. She was just drifting off into a nap when a shadow fell across her. She heard snuffling and felt wet against her scales. Dar. She knew before he even spoke.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be at a class?” he asked.

  “Got thrown out.”

  Duh. She was a mile away with four legs and wings. Clearly, she wasn’t where she was supposed to be. And why did Dar persist in tracking her down every time she tried to get a private moment? He was such a pest.

  “Already?”

  She opened one eye on one head, wondering what she could say to make him go away and stop blocking her sunshine.

  “Wanna ditch the rest of today and do something really cool?” he asked. “Remember I told you I was working on something? Well, I’m ready and it’s time for an adventure.”

  Now that sounded even better than napping in the sun. And it certainly sounded better than returning in a few hours and having an instructor beat her to a pulp. “Like what?”

  Dar peered around furtively. “I know how to open a gate.”

  She sat up quickly, knocking him aside with one of her heads in her haste. “No way. You’re fucking joking.”