A Demon's Contract

by Delmire Hart

  Jerry nodded, giving them one last appraising look over before hauling himself to his feet. “I’ll take you to meet the Commander in charge of this whole mess and he can see you situated from there. I imagine we’ll be conducting a raid to see what you can do either tonight or tomorrow. We know where two of the bastards’ forward camps are but haven’t had the troops to do anything about it yet. It’ll be a good boost to the morale to give the men a win for once.”

  That seemed awfully quick, he arrives and within a day is already sent out on a raid. But then, what better way to test out his usefulness? Well, Zaxor’s, not his. Barkley cast a glance towards the demon beside him but he wore his usual mask of boredom. It was almost a relief though, to know there would be no screwing around. Unlike in Loria, they were all aware of the effects of this war first hand and were keen to use what precious time they had.

  A feeling a determination settled over Barkley and he squared his shoulders. Finally, it was time to get underway.

  ***

  The day was a whirlwind of information followed by an afternoon of impatient boredom. Even Zaxor whisking him back off to the demon plane to suck his brains out through his cock hadn’t taken the edge off Barkley’s anxiousness for long. The efficiency of the army was a far cry from the dawdling pace of the mage academy, and they were going for their first raid tonight.

  No one spoke to Barkley unless necessary, but he received a number of politely respectful head nods when he passed soldiers. It was obvious that some feared the demon at his side, but more respected the power he offered, even if they didn’t seem to want to be personally involved with a demon. It was yet another nice change from the glares at the academy.

  If he had the power to change the tide of the war, no one here would spit on that. His brief walk around the village, turned into a forward command post, had shown battle-scarred soldiers tending their weapons and armour or training for the combat to come. It made him regret staying at the academy for so long instead of coming straight to the front lines after forging his contract. Not that he mentioned that to Zaxor lest he get some equivalent of ‘I told you to forge your own path’ again.

  It was too late for regrets now though. All he could do was keep focusing on moving forward, something that was much easier now that he was where he had wanted to be all along.

  Tonight’s raid would be simple. Sneak as close as possible to the Quathian’s forward camp without being detected and wreak as much havoc as they could. All the structures would be set alight with potent magefire, along with anything else of note, like supply wagons. Any horses or soldiers fleeing the fire would be targets for the squad of soldiers coming with Barkley and Zaxor to take care of. Once they were done, Zaxor and Barkley would teleport back while the soldiers would return once they’ve assessed the damage.

  A simple plan all things considered. It still left Barkley jittery with nerves and ‘what ifs’ though. Zaxor’s teasing nickname of ‘farm boy’ lingered at the forefront of his thoughts. Standing amongst the soldiers preparing for their late-night mission only highlighted his out-of-place feeling. What good was Barkley on this mission? He couldn’t defend himself, he had no knowledge of strategy or war and only a thimble more knowledge about magic. The only thing he was good for was the powerful demon he had given his soul to. Zaxor refused to go anywhere without Barkley, and while he didn’t explain why, Barkley had some ideas.

  If the army higher ups got wind they could be separated, Barkley would get left behind and Zaxor would be forced to take orders directly from the officers in the field. Which went against their contract; Zaxor agreed to help Barkley, no one else. Nor would he take orders as anything more than suggestions. Logically Barkley knew that this was the way it needed to be. Going into the field to raid an enemy encampment still scared him, however. It was one thing to be spurred on by emotions and claim he was going to stop the war to save his loved ones, entirely another to be confronted by what that means sober.

  Zaxor stepped close to Barkley, brushing their shoulders together, before he vanished with a small ‘pop’ back to the demon plane. That brief second of contact had been enough to jolt Barkley back to the present and ground him in the here and now. It had been a surprisingly comforting gesture, although innocent enough that no one around them would think anything of it. Zaxor claimed to be open with his thoughts and intentions, especially when asked directly, but Barkley was learning that wasn’t always the case. The demon offered only what he chose to and hid all the rest of his thoughts behind his mask of boredom.

  Why he felt the need to mask a supportive gesture, Barkley would probably never know, but he took comfort in it all the same. He would need it for their journey in the darkness. He couldn’t ride a horse, not that the army had any spare, so he would be spending the next few hours clutching on to the back of Lieutenant Harding. An uncomfortable ride in the dead of night was not something he was looking forward to, but he squared his shoulders and set his posture. Determination was what he needed now, the fire that had spurred him from his village all the way to Loria.

  Closing his eyes, Barkley conjured up the memories of his home. It was the first time he had willingly done so. The blackened rubble of houses gutted by fire. Fallow fields of nothing but scorched earth. Blood on the beaten dirt road. Faces gaunt from hunger with eyes haunted by pain. Remembering hurt like a physical pain in his chest, threatening to steal his breath and weakening his knees.

  Barkley took that feeling, gripped it in his mind, and used it to fan the flames of agonised fear into steely resolve. It was time to stop dithering, stop making empty promises, and faltering when he needed to act. Letting out a deep breath, he opened his eyes to find the lieutenant watching him cautiously. He paused for a moment, as though surprised by what he saw, before inclining his head respectfully.

  Sitting behind a man wearing studded leather for hours while they travelled on horseback was just as uncomfortable as Barkley had expected. It was too dark for them to travel at any speed, so the hours dragged out as they crossed endless grey fields only marred by the darker black of vegetation. For the first few hours, they travelled with dim hooded lanterns, but they were doused as they neared the enemy encampment. Their pace slowed to a crawl as the moon frequently hid behind clouds, denying them what little light it could provide.

  When they finally came to a silent stop, Barkley let out a sigh of relief. The seemingly endless hours of travel had left him sore; muscles aching from the unfamiliar gait of the horse but also from the points on his arms and thighs where the lieutenant’s armour had chafed at him. Swinging clumsily from the saddle, the stiffness of his protesting muscles becoming known, he was glad for the dim light. It saved him from looking the fool, although he doubted he could keep up appearances for long.

  “Zaxor,” he whispered as he strode a few paces away in hopes that the demon’s sudden appearance would not startle the horses.

  A few of the horses stamped their feet nervously as Zaxor popped into existence beside him but they were quickly calmed. Two of the soldiers would stay behind to guard the horses while the rest of them would continue closer to the enemy base on foot. The plan had been drilled into his head again and again throughout the afternoon, so it was almost automatic when he joined the group of soldiers, situating himself within the protection of the middle ranks, as they made to head out. It felt surreal, like his body was running on the orders of what he was supposed to do, too nervous to think for himself.

  Zaxor muttered something under his breath, faint runes appearing at everyone’s feet before disappearing. Barkley gasped, the sound echoed quietly as the other’s reacted at the same time. It took a moment for him to work out what Zaxor had done. It was only when he took a step forward, towards the demon, that he figured it out. They were all floating a few inches off the ground. It was an odd sensation; he could somehow tell that there was nothing directly under his feet, yet he walked without issue. There was a pressure under his feet that acted like the ground even thoug
h it was not solid.

  No one said anything as they moved out and Barkley finally understood the purpose of the spell. It would have been difficult to move silently through the underbrush with next to no light, especially for someone untrained in such things, like Barkley. But with their slightly elevated steps, there was no snapping of twigs underfoot or any soft thuds of footfalls falling too heavily.

  Only the sounds of insects and nocturnal wildlife punctuated the air. It gave a feeling of calm that Barkley found eerie, knowing what was about to happen.

  They stopped at an unseen signal from the front, then two soldiers peeled off from the group, one to either side. The minutes stretched out, and Barkley strained to hear anything that could give him a clue as to how they were fairing. The sound of a grunt, then a muted gurgle, met his ears and he flinched. A soft thud followed only to be echoed from the other side. They waited, tense in the silence, to see if their removal of the two posted guards had been noticed.

  After a long, stretched out moment, they walked the last few paces towards the edge of the enemy encampment. The sparse splattering of trees gave way to clear grass some distance before the first lines of tents, but they were close enough they could stay shrouded in the deep shadows offered by nature. Their accompanying soldiers disappeared one by one, fanning out around the unsuspecting Quathian’s.

  It was almost a relief when the lieutenant standing a few paces from them gave the signal. Barkley looked to Zaxor, the tall demon barely more than an outline to his night-blind eyes. An arm snuck around his waist, pulling him up against the demon, Barkley’s back pressed up against the firmness of Zaxor’s chest. A muttered word in his ear signalled the start as a blue flame tipped in red lit up the first building, one of the few wooden structures in between the sea of low tents. It danced for a moment before jumping to the next building, spreading faster than any fire Barkley had ever seen.

  Then his vision went dark as a large hand covered his eyes, not even the faintest ray of light making its way through the cracks in his fingers. It took a second to register the complete lack of sound on top of the alarming blackness marring his vision. Zaxor had used magic to blind and deafen him. Why?

  Suddenly they were somewhere else, only the change in temperature alerting him to that fact. It had to be the demon plane; any time Zaxor travelled with him from one point in the human realm to another, he could feel it with the strange lurching feeling that accompanied it. Not that Zaxor had given him a satisfactory explanation for that, beyond that it had something to do with the inherent lack of magic in the human world.

  Sight and sound returned to him all at once and he rounded on the demon, a frown creasing his forehead as he opened his mouth to demand an answer. He was stopped in his tracks by a surprisingly sombre look on the demon’s face, at odds with his usual amused or bored façade. There was no mask now, nothing to hide the seriousness of his expression.

  “There are some things you need not know.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Barkley frowned as Zaxor brushed past him to flop down on the huge bed. He watched as the demon took a moment to get comfortable and tried to gather his thoughts.

  “What do you mean?” he asked finally.

  Zaxor closed his eyes and it almost seemed as though he would not answer. “There are many human books that mention the lingering memories of red blood, the inhuman screams of the dead and dying, the charred smell of burnt flesh. If you want nightmares to remember your war efforts, I can refrain next time.”

  Barkley paused, unsure how to respond. It was a thoughtful gesture now that he thought about it, and something entirely unexpected from the usually flippant demon.

  “You know, I never really thought about it before,” Barkley started as he moved to perch on the edge of the bed. “All I wanted was to stop the violence that was hurting my family. Stopping the war was this abstract thing, just stop the violence, stop the raids and put everything back to how it was. But there was never a chance of a peaceful solution was there? Not to complete our contract, anyway.”

  Zaxor opened his eyes to watch Barkley thoughtfully, but he offered no comment as he sorted out his thoughts.

  “I said that I wanted to save my family so they could live out the rest of their lives in peace. The only way to do that is to make sure the Quathian Empire cannot restart the war in the years to come. That means destroying their army, doesn’t it?”

  “Their military needs to be sufficiently crippled to ensure that they are recouping for decades, yes.” Zaxor reached up and tugged Barkley down to lie beside him. “It leaves them weak and open to attack from other empires, or even retaliation from Rilia. But it will make sure your family and the other villages on the border are safe for their lifetimes. From Quathia, at least. They will still have to contend with illness and injury and the like.”

  Shifting around to find a comfortable position, Barkley let it all sink in. He honestly hadn’t given his wording any thought at the time, only blurting out his desperate wish in hopes it would be enough. It seemed that Zaxor had given it plenty of thought already, however.

  “Shouldn’t we be returning to camp?” he said finally, unsure if Zaxor was even still awake.

  “The others aren’t expected back for many hours, not if they are waiting until the fire dies down and then have to travel back. The officers don’t care about what we say, they are looking for confirmation from their trusted soldiers.” Zaxor’s arm curled tighter about his waist, pulling him closer against his chest. It was warm and surprisingly comforting. “I used enough magic that I need to nap to regenerate it and I cannot do so in the human realm. It’s late, you may as well sleep.”

  Zaxor closed his eyes and any remaining tension in his body drained out of him as he relaxed back into the bed. Barkley could feel the exhaustion tugging at the fringes of his mind, but he was too wound up after the events that day to relax. He contemplated leaving Zaxor to nap alone and seeking out the library, but he didn’t feel like interacting with anyone he might come across. Instead he turned his focus to trailing his fingers across Zaxor’s clothed chest.

  When he had first seen the demon, he had thought he looked like a richly dressed noble, but after meeting János, he realised that Zaxor’s clothing seemed more like his. Not that Barkley had ever met or seen a human noble to compare, only that Zaxor’s finely crafted and form fitting suit was striking enough to fit any noble. Still, it was interesting. The demon took the form of a human with demon elements spliced in while his clothing was Althulean. It was like he took elements of what he liked from the different races and civilizations he interacted with and used them to craft the image he preferred.

  While it must be nice to pick and choose how you appeared at any given moment, Barkley would be overwhelmed by possibilities if that was him. And how did you not lose your identity amongst all the changes? As intriguing as the thought was, Barkley was surprisingly happy with how he was.

  He paused for a moment, assessing his feelings.

  He was happy, Barkley realised with a start. The stress and tension about the war was still there, lingering at the back of his mind, but it no longer obscured his mood. Now that they were at the frontlines, finally doing something about this forsaken war, much of his fear had left him. They were doing something, making changes happen and the crushing, overwhelming feeling of helplessness had lifted. Not shoved to the side by his determination or a distraction, but lifted away in the face of action.

  It also made him realise that he was happy with his arrangement with Zaxor. He still had so many questions and the demon’s arrogance could still irk him, but he didn’t regret his choice. There was a spark of hope inside Barkley that maybe his choice to sell his soul, his choice to pursue a relationship with a demon of all creatures, might all work out for something better than living out his life on his family’s farm. He loved his family, he really did, but the only thing he could regret was losing the ability to stop by for a visit. Yet wasn’t it better to say goodby
e once and for all, take the pain and let it heal, than stop by every few years only to see them grow old as he remained never changing?

  Barkley started as Zaxor lazily waved his arm and their clothing vanished. The sudden intimacy of being pressed skin to skin as he laid across the demon’s chest was alarming.

  “You’re thinking too loudly,” Zaxor complained, popping one eye open, his lips quirking into a smile as Barkley turned to stare up at him incredulously. “I can’t read minds,” he clarified, amused, “but pulling at my buttons instead of sleeping says a great deal. Now, shall I tire you out?”

  Heat crept across Barkley’s cheeks. He didn’t even realise that he had been playing with the button’s on Zaxor’s shirt. He was distracted from his embarrassment by two large hands tugging him up for a kiss. The ram’s horns curling around Zaxor’s ears meant he couldn’t roll onto his side, so Barkley had to go to him. The position had him straddled across a firm stomach with his hands pressed into the pillow on either side of Zaxor’s head.

  Was this the view Zaxor had when he hovered above Barkley? It was a new experience for the young man, and the languid, unhurried movements of his partner boosted his confidence. Zaxor clearly had no aversions to Barkley’s position, and when he surged forward to dominate the kiss, there was no resistance. A tail caressed down Barkley’s back while a hand tangled gently in his hair, encouraging the slick slide of their tongues together. Remembering what Zaxor had done to him previously, Barkley nipped and bit at the demon’s bottom lip before pulling away to catch his breath. Zaxor licked his lips, grinning as Barkley tracked the movement. He looked smug but excited and still hadn’t made a move to take back control.

  “You’re learning, I see.”

  Swallowing, Barkley nodded before pushing himself back onto his knees. Fuck, seeing all that olive skin stretched out willingly underneath him was breathtaking. A completely different experience to letting Zaxor lead and overwhelm him with new sensations.