A Demon's Contract

by Delmire Hart

  “And Temress chose Max.” Zaxor nodded, grinning. “But he didn’t know.” Another nod in confirmation. “I don’t see what was so funny.”

  “I have never, in thousands of years, seen her react to any provocation, let alone so obviously. Ahh, I’m going to have so much fun with this.”

  Barkley gave Zaxor a sceptical look. He still didn’t understand what was so funny, but he wasn’t going to bother trying to get more explanation. Hopefully Zaxor hadn’t caused too much trouble by telling Max, but he supposed it was better that he knew sooner rather than later.

  “When our contract is complete, I’m going to stay here forever, however long that might be. Can Temress do the same with Max?”

  “If she chooses to, yes. She’s got a good few thousand years left in her, so I imagine she will extend Max’s life to match her own.”

  “That’s good,” he murmured absently.

  Surprisingly, Barkley was happy for his friend. Max had seemed perfectly comfortable with Temress draped over him possessively, and there was a relaxed air to him that hadn’t been there before. In a few short weeks Max had gained a purpose and a lover, a permanent companion. There was something to be said about certainty; Barkley could only wish he knew what his future held. All he knew was that he would spend his time here. Everything else, especially his relationship with Zaxor, was one big unknown.

  Max had only been drifting through his life, looking after the books and petitions, making do mostly by himself. The short time that Barkley had spent at the academy had mostly been spent in his company, and the scholar had received few other visitors. He must have been lonely, surrounded by people but apart from them, much as Barkley had been during his stay. At least he would always have someone around now. For Barkley as well, it would give him another friend for his time here.

  Glancing over at Zaxor, Barkley wondered if the demon had been lonely before he’d arrived. Everyone seemed to hold the demon at a respectful distance, and every moment that Zaxor wasn’t busy he spent bothering Barkley. There was something of a fond friendship forming between them, forged in quiet moments in the garden or lying amid sweaty sheets.

  It was clear that while Zaxor’s perspective was vastly different, he felt emotions much like humans did. The emotions were shown more in his body language, with his tail particularly, than his voice or facial expression. Just because it wasn’t obvious didn’t mean the feelings weren’t there.

  Had Zaxor been lonely whiling away the centuries while those he interacted with kept him at arm’s length? Did he even know what the feeling of loneliness was? It would not surprise Barkley to find that the demon had been lonely but didn’t know how to name the feeling.

  A dull ache welled up in Barkley, a pain in sympathy for the creature standing before him. He paused for a moment before fighting down a rueful smile. Barkley might be falling for his demon lover, just a little. He knew not to tell Bel, but otherwise couldn’t find it in himself to be worried. Right now, they were lovers so feelings were to be expected, right? There was time enough to fret over the future later.

  A small sigh escaped Barkley’s lips as he squared his shoulders, offering a small smile to Zaxor who was staring him over curiously as though trying to guess at his thoughts.

  “Come on, you need to get some sleep.”

  “Oh? Are you trying to get me into bed?” Zaxor drawled suggestively as he leered down at Barkley. “What naughty plans are you suggesting?”

  “Sleep,” Barkley replied exasperatedly, though a laugh threatened to undo his long-suffering tone. “But if you’re good and rest up, I might give you a reward later.”

  “I like this confident side to you, it’s quite fun.”

  With that they teleported to Zaxor’s bedroom, and Barkley had the impossible task of fending off the demon’s wandering hands while trying to convince him to sleep. He found he didn’t mind all that much.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Max’s words of warning were at the forefront of Barkley’s mind when they returned to the human realm. His body was tense with worry as tried to think how he might be able to tell if the officers were getting greedy. They never included him in the planning process, only telling him what he needed to know, and only when he needed to know. What if he couldn’t figure it out until too late and he ends up wasting precious time achieving the army’s goals rather than his own?

  The answer seemed obvious: leave and strike out on his own. He couldn’t be forced to dance to someone else’s tune if he wasn’t there to hear it.

  But Barkley didn’t know war, he didn’t know the lay of the land or where the rest of the enemy troops were wintering. Leaving now would only hinder his progress, and he refused to let this stupid war carry on for a single day longer than necessary.

  “Max was worried that the officers might get greedy,” Barkley explained to Zaxor, even though the demon hadn’t verbally asked a question. The question was there in the side glances he kept throwing Barkley as they stood just outside of the camp, unmoving.

  Zaxor had decided he didn’t like teleporting directly into the command building and so had moved his anchor to the outskirts. The small rock was hidden carefully amongst the many others, and Barkley found he appreciated the privacy to voice his fears before they approached. He wondered then if Zaxor had the same concerns as Max and didn’t trust the army enough to leave them in possession of his anchor.

  “He’s worried that they’ll try and take advantage of your power and use it for whatever they want rather than just stopping the war.”

  “Wise, for a human.” Barkley huffed at the intentional provocation, earning a lopsided smile from Zaxor. “You should keep that in mind when dealing with the officers from now on. Now that the most immediate threat is dealt with, that is a very real possibility.”

  “You sound like that has happened to you before.”

  Zaxor turned to gaze out over the camp, his expression smoothing over into his trademark façade of boredom. “It’s interesting how so many years pass and yet so little changes. Humans are such contrary creatures, nothing can ever be simple with them.”

  With that Zaxor vanished, leaving Barkley alone where he stood. He wondered if he had touched a nerve somehow, but now was not the time to ask. Instead, Barkley squared his shoulders and made his way through the neat rows of tents to approach the main command building.

  “Ho, Demontamer!”

  Barkley paused, turning to find lieutenant Harding approaching with a surprisingly warm smile in place.

  “Welcome back to the land of mortals.” The man’s grin softened any offense he might have caused with his joke. “Those two men you saved a few days ago have been doing well. Doc even reckons they might be stable enough to ship back down south to a proper hospital in a few days. Just thought I’d let you know how they were doing.”

  “Oh… thank you,” Barkley said finally, ashamed that he’d been so consumed by his own worries over the past few days that he hadn’t given them much thought.

  Harding slapped his shoulder in a friendly goodbye before taking his leave. There was something about being treated just like any other person that Barkley appreciated, especially when the rest of the soldiers kept a respectful, and slightly fearful, distance. It gave him a small hope that maybe all his fears were unnecessary.

  Entering the command building squashed what small flicker of hope he’d been trying to cultivate. The rude officer in charge that Barkley had reluctantly learned was called Kenworth, gave him a look when he entered that screamed greed. It was only the briefest of glances, but it was enough that his blood ran cold.

  This was the man currently commanding the Rilian frontline forces. The man that made the final decisions. Now all Barkley could do was listen to whatever plan they had concocted while he was away and hope he was mistaken.

  “Zaxor,” he whispered under his breath, not waiting to see if the demon came before approaching Kenworth.

  “Finally back, are we? For all your talk a
bout ending the war, you do very little.” There was a sneer to his face unbecoming on such a high-ranking officer.

  “Magical energy is not unlimited,” Barkley snapped before taking a deep breath. Now was not the time to cause trouble by arguing with the commander. He continued on in a more even tone, “nor is it free. Even demons can only do so much at a time.”

  Kenworth snorted in derision as he waved his assistant over. “I don’t care for your lip, boy. You’re lucky you’re not one of mine or I’d have you digging latrines for the rest of your days. As it is, your next task needed to have been completed two days ago.”

  Barkley’s eyebrow twitched. Two days ago had been the morning after the attack on the two enemy outposts. He had just said magic was limited, there was no way Zaxor could have completed another magical task then. He wisely kept his mouth shut while the assistant laid out a large map on a table before them.

  “From the scouts’ reports, the enemy’s main force was not at any of the three camps that were destroyed, meaning they must winter elsewhere. You are to scout via the air, locate them, and report the location back.”

  “Who said Zaxor can fly?” Barkley retorted before he could stop himself. It was a massive assumption to make that the demon could fly in the human world, especially across such vast distances.

  “You going to tell me that you contracted this so-called powerful demon and he can’t even do that?” Kenworth sneered.

  Never in all his years had Barkley wanted to punch someone in the face as badly as he did right then. He was giving his help freely, and this is the treatment he received in return? As the urge for violence faded, the desire to leave grew stronger. Only the knowledge that the war was still not over kept Barkley from turning around and never coming back.

  While Barkley was wrestling with his emotions, Zaxor appeared and wordlessly began clearing off one of the large tables used for planning in the center of the room. Barkley paid no attention to what the demon was doing until Kenworth swore at Zaxor to stop.

  Turning, he found the demon tracing runes across the tabletop, his fingertip leaving behind the pattern burned into the wood. It was the first time Barkley had seen Zaxor draw the runes before using his magic, and he wondered what kind of magic he was planning to use. With Kenworth hovering behind them scowling, Barkley didn’t ask; instead, he watched silently as the pattern spiralled out from the center of the table until it nearly reached the edge.

  Seemingly done with that, Zaxor cast about the room before commandeering a beaten metal tray. The cursing behind them escalated in intensity as Zaxor etched more runes into the metal, these smaller and more intricate. When he was done, he handed the tray to Barkley before sweeping out of the room and into the grey, overcast outside.

  Barkley followed, clutching the metal tray to his chest. Zaxor stopped in the middle of the clearing in front of the command building and stretched out his hand, finger pointing at the dirt. As he moved his hand, patterns drew themselves into the dusty top layer of the dried earth. He supposed it was just a fancy magic equivalent of using a stick to draw in the dirt so you wouldn’t get dirty.

  “I’ve never seen you draw the runes first,” Barkley commented idly as he watched a circle of runes rapidly appear around the demon. “They always appear on their own when you start chanting.”

  “For more complex magics it is too dangerous to leave the rune formation entirely to mental placement. One misplaced or incorrectly drawn rune here could have disastrous consequences. This way, when I cast the magic, the runes have a physical form to follow. Magics like the wards on the academy portals have the rune markings carved permanently into the stone beneath them.”

  Curious soldiers gathered around to watch, although none got close enough to hear their quiet conversation. Not even their curiosity could overcome their fearful respect for the magic Zaxor wielded.

  “Your other form has wings, but you’re going to use a lot of magic for whatever you're planning. Does that mean that you can’t fly?”

  “I am not built for true flight,” Zaxor replied distractedly as his drawing curved away from Barkley. “My wings merely assist the magic I can use to simulate flight. But even stronger magic is required if I am to carry you as well.”

  “If it’s going to take that much magic, could you not leave me here and scout on your own? You aren’t actually linked to me, right?” Barkley lowered his voice as he glanced around. No one was close enough to overhear, but he wasn’t about to take the risk. The less the officers knew about Zaxor’s magic, the more power Barkley had over his situation.

  Zaxor, whose back was now to him as he continued drawing the runes in a circle around him, shot Barkley an unreadable look over his shoulder.

  “I will do everything in my power to see our contract complete.” His words were stiff, forced, and Barkley wondered if he had unintentionally hit another sore spot. “But if I am going to fight your battles, you will be there every step of the way.”

  In all honestly, Barkley should have questioned Zaxor about this earlier, but he wanted to see things through himself. Waiting around ate away at him, he needed to be doing something, anything, to help and stay focused. It just lined up well with Zaxor’s way of doing things. Yet perhaps he should find out a little more about the demon he was handing his soul over to for eternity. Something must have happened during previous contracts to get the reactions from Zaxor that he’d inadvertently sparked today.

  “Sooo, what about this tray?” Barkley asked hastily, trying to change the topic. “And the table inside? What are they for?”

  Zaxor was silent for long enough that Barkley didn’t think he’d answer. When he finally did, some of the tension that had taken over his posture had lessened.

  “It’ll act as a mirror. You’ll hold the tray and the view in front of it will be mirrored back to the table. That way they can make their own damn notes and assessments. No one can blame you if anything is missed.”

  There was still an edge to Zaxor’s voice that Barkley didn’t like, but he was relieved that he wouldn’t have to remember everything and then report back. With his lack of military understanding, no doubt Barkley would have missed something crucial, and in war, that meant people died. Barkley didn’t need to carry a mistake of that magnitude with him for the rest of eternity.

  The thoughtfulness of Zaxor’s actions tugged at the little part in Barkley that was growing awfully fond of the demon. No doubt it was as much for his benefit as Barkley’s, but he hadn’t missed the way Zaxor had used ‘you’. The demon wouldn’t care if there was a mistake that cost human lives, he’d just change his plan to end the war accordingly and carry on. It was Barkley who would suffer to carry that burden, and the demon knew that. What’s more, he cared enough to use extra magical energy to do something about it.

  Barkley waited in silence as Zaxor drew the rest of the runes in the dirt. The pattern was huge; interlocking runes spiralled out from his person to encircle the earth around him. Finally done, Zaxor stretched before growing in size. Gasps echoed around them as Zaxor’s true form of swirling shadows towered over the yard. His massive feet stood on the runes he had just finished meticulously drawing, but upon closer inspection, Barkley noticed that Zaxor was hovering above it.

  One huge, clawed finger reached out to touch the tray in Barkley’s hands, and with one booming word the etched runes glowed green, yellow, and orange. Looking down, Barkley could see his own face staring back at himself in surprise, and a series of muffled shouts could be heard coming from the command building behind him.

  Next thing he knew, Barkley was being scooped up by a large hand and held securely against Zaxor’s chest. For all that he looked to be made of swirling shadows, the demon felt real enough. More booming words followed, and the runes below Zaxor’s oddly elongated feet glowed as well. Barkley watched, fascinated, as the runes seemingly drew themselves, their lines following the ones that had been drawn only minutes before.

  Whatever magic Zaxor was using t
his time, the words went on and on. A wind around them kicked up as the magic grew, and Zaxor’s voice swelled in volume and power. A thrum of tangible power pressed in around Barkley; it was the first time he’d ever felt magic. Even when he used the small amount of power granted to him by Zaxor he didn’t feel it, not truly. He felt the effects, felt the mental pull as he focused, but never felt the hum against his skin like he did now.

  Flight, it seemed, was difficult to achieve in the human plane. Or at least, magical flight was.

  The rainbow of runes beneath them flared once, then Zaxor launched them into the air. Barkley yelled as the ground fell away beneath them. The wind tossed his hair into his eyes and he cursed the length as he struggled to see.

  “Do you even know where you are going?!” Barkley yelled, unsure if the demon could even hear him above the wind rushing in their ears.

  The snort of amusement was felt against his back rather than heard, but when Zaxor spoke, Barkley could hear him will enough. “Have you not seen the maps every time you entered the command building? They even showed us one the last time we were briefed for their double hit mission.”

  “Oh.”

  Barkley could vaguely recall seeing something of the sort, but he couldn’t make heads nor tails of the map so he hadn’t paid it any attention. Thankfully, Zaxor seemed to know where they were going, because they sped across rolling plains of green and yellow, spotted with darker green and brown patches of forest. Roads haphazardly wound through the landscape, occasionally lined with the remains of small houses, and here and there he could see the tiny forms of livestock.