by August Li
Nice attitude. “You see, weaponry has changed a bit since you were here last. But the interesting thing is the timing. Most of the guilds think we’re due for some sort of an upset—it’s been two thousand years since the last big wave hit the magical world, and a lot of them seem to think that’s some special number. They cite prophecies, things like that. Apparently they’ve found a lot of clues hidden in poetry and art.”
“What do they think is going to happen?” He tilted his head to one side and his eyes glittered in an unnerving way. Almost like he gave a damn.
I dragged my plastic fork through my mashed potatoes, carving furrows through congealing brown gravy. “They don’t know, or they disagree. I never paid it a lot of mind. It’s weird, though.”
“What is?”
“You’re here, and that could mean something. See, your kind are so legendary, so coveted…. The mages have been trying to summon faeries for… I don’t know, since back when the magic first broke, or whatever it did. None of them have been able to accomplish it. I understand it was easy once.”
He bared his teeth a little between his pale lips; his canines were long and sharp. “It was never easy, demon. We are not servants to be ordered around, and we go where we like, when we like. It is true that occasionally we might be tempted by the company of a mortal who was especially beautiful or talented or interesting.”
“But you weren’t tempted this time, were you? You were forced here.” I couldn’t resist taking the shot at his ego, giving his rosy little tit a subtle twist. “And I understand it’s happened before.”
He turned toward the window with his long nose in the air.
“Something must’ve changed,” I pressed. “The guilds have been watching for it. Waiting for a sign that the—the whatever—is beginning.”
“What is this foolishness to do with me? What do I care what the humans think or do?”
“I thought you wanted to find the person who summoned you.”
At that, he smiled madly and ran his tongue along the edge of his sharp upper teeth.
“Oh, I do want to find them. I’m going to curse them.” The way he said it, he might’ve been describing his weekend plans to drive down to the beach and spend a couple days sipping daiquiris. “I haven’t decided how yet, though. Maybe I’ll make them dream of their worst moment every night while they sleep. Or make them see how all their loved ones are going to die. Make all their food taste like curdled milk. What do you think?”
“I kind of think you suck,” I muttered. “I don’t understand taking pleasure in watching people suffer.”
He curled his fingers in front of his chin and examined his long pearly nails. “It’s not a matter of pleasure; it is satisfaction for a slight against me. So, tell me of these human guilds. Likely one of them is responsible for this irritation.”
“I don’t think so. I don’t know if you understand what a prize you’d be. If a guild mage managed to drag you here, he or she’d snap you up. I can’t convey to you the influence one of them would gain by accomplishing it. But there was no one waiting, was there? Where did you first… appear?”
He fluttered his fingers. “Some filthy corridor not far from here. I sensed magic nearby, and I followed it to that ghastly little tavern, thinking to make short work of the one who dared to interfere with me. But they were not present.”
Around two hundred years ago, back in Leeds, I’d seen a group of mages try to call a faerie servant. Dozens of them got together, all pooling their magic. They’d consulted the stars and planets to choose the optimal time to perform the ritual, and they’d prepared for weeks. The rite went on for days, full of chanting and drawing mystical symbols. Sacrifices. At the end of it, a little fissure of lavender light crackled at the center of their circle, but it disappeared almost as soon as it formed, and the group still counted their efforts a great success. No way somebody summoned this fucker and just missed him. “There wasn’t anyone about?”
“No one of any significance,” he said.
I bristled a little; all humans had significance. All humans were fascinating, their experiences and desires so unique and varied, not one the same as another. To me they were diamonds with wonderful facets and full of brilliant light. But I’d already seen the futility of arguing with him. And as I have already explained, I’m just too fucking lazy.
“Why were you so adamant on us leaving that other establishment?” he asked again. “You haven’t answered to my satisfaction.”
“Don’t you see? It’s dangerous for you. Any mage that gets the chance—any one of them—will bind you, and you’ll be a slave.”
He snorted. “Please. You honestly think that’s within their ability?”
“You don’t get it, do you? You’re here, and you can’t get back. You don’t know anything about this world. Some of these people are very powerful, and some of them are not nice. Did you know there’s a guild of mages who specialize in flesh manipulation? The things they can do to a body would give even you nightmares. And they’re killers for hire; even the Sekhet-Aaru are terrified of them.”
“What is the Sekhet-Aaru? The word sounds familiar. Egyptian?”
“They like to pretend so, but I think their ties are loose at best. Egypt was already a corpse picked over by the Romans before their guild formed. If anyone has any knowledge of that magic, it’ll be the Antiquarians, and they don’t like to share. But Sekhet-Aaru has power. They control many important corporations, and they have a lot of influence over international politics. I’ve heard they manufacture wars when they’re worried the general public might be getting too complacent, when they might have the leisure to start noticing them.”
“Then these people, the best and strongest amongst them, are surely the ones who called me here!”
“Fuck me, I hope not.”
Arching a shimmery white brow, he said, “Scared, demon?”
“Fuck yes,” I said, “and if you’re not, you’ve got your head up your arse.”
“Delightful.”
Just then, the group of young guys in the back of the restaurant got up to leave. As they passed by our table one of them focused on me. I felt myself melding into what he wanted: a muscular man with dark skin, a little older. A mentor, someone to show him the ropes. A conspirator, someone to share secret passions. He wanted to explore, to run his hands over firm planes and discover hidden gardens of dark hair. His desires were strong—masculine aromas, the taste of sweat, sweet but vulgar pleas grunted out…. In the window, I saw the me he wanted: square jaw dusted with stubble, tendons in the neck prominent, close-cropped curly hair…. He would be inebriated, spilling fascinated energy I could feed off for weeks before it even began to fade into the expected….
“Ugh. Close your mouth before you begin drooling, incubus.” The faerie’s voice snapped my attention away from the young man, and he followed his friends out into the chilly night. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to wait to indulge your baser proclivities. You need to accomplish the task you’ve been enlisted for first.” He stood and smoothed the lapels of his snug gray-green blazer.
I curled my fists. I could still taste the sizzling energy that young man would’ve radiated as I fulfilled his deepest desires. Now I’d lost him, and I snapped at the faerie. “There’s nothing base about what I do, and besides, you don’t even have an idea where to start looking for the boring mortal who has enough power to ensnare you.”
I could almost hear his teeth grinding. “Well, they are obviously not in here.”
He turned on his heel and strutted out the door, and I followed, off to try to find a fucking needle in a whole city full of fucking needles.
Chapter Four
MY DEMON servant muttered under his breath as we traversed the snowy walkways of the decrepit human settlement. What an annoying creature; I should have chosen someone better to assist me, but now I’d saddled myself with this dour being whose only motivation involved inserting his member into some mortal and imagini
ng it was a profound act. If he needed to sate himself, I couldn’t understand why he didn’t just pick someone and get it over with. As if there was any difference between them. As if one hole in a piece of meat was superior to another.
He mumbled curses and threw me nasty looks over his shoulder as he led me along. The buildings around us blended into each other, as uniform and unremarkable as the humans inhabiting them. “Do you have a destination in mind, or is this merely a leisurely stroll?”
“Look—What’s your name, anyway?”
I stopped in the courtyard of a large shop, an apothecary, I would guess, now closed for the evening. Its name seemed to be Drive-Thru Pharmacy. My name, obviously, was much more significant, and it would take a far cleverer ruse to trick me into revealing it. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
His breath froze around him as he sighed and shoved his hands into the pockets of his tatty coat. “There’s no reason for you to be such a twat. We’re stuck together for at least a while, and I need something to call you. Just tell me what, yeah?”
Watching his frustration amused me slightly. “No.”
“Fine then, fucker. It’s Blossom. I’m calling you Blossom.”
I expect he thought his choice would displease me, but it hardly mattered. Soon both he and this hideous place would be a distant memory. “Very well, then. I shall call you Inky.”
“I hate that goddamn— No, forget it. Let’s just get this done.”
“A sound plan.” I nodded. We had been walking for a little while, and in the distance to the south, I could see some imposing structures, tall and seemingly made of crystal or glass. Though they appeared very far away, I felt sure if anyone had the gall and talent to call me to this world, it must’ve been one of the powerful sorcerers the demon mentioned. And they likely made their homes in those grand buildings. I pointed. “Let us go that way.”
He stopped and swore in the ancient mortal tongue the Romans spoke. Latin is good for cursing—it can be quite vulgar—and his use was creative. After a few moments of ranting, he exhaled loudly and curled his shoulders forward. “You’re out of your mind. We can’t walk all the way to Center City.”
“Why not?” I answered him in Latin; it was as good a language as any the humans used, and I doubted he would understand the subtle beauty of mine. “I find it highly unlikely that you have anywhere more pressing to be.”
“You are such a prick.” He switched back to the language of the locals, some variant of Germanic, I thought. “You don’t know anything about this world! It’d take hours to walk all that way, and it’s fucking freezing, and it’s bloody dangerous! And not just because of the mages who are almost certainly looking for you!”
“You speak as though you have a better destination in mind. Please, don’t keep me in suspense.”
“Do you, like, sense something?” he asked. “Like a tug toward the one who summoned you?”
I had little to lose, so I listened. The few stunted trees here were silent, sleeping out the winter, dreaming in drawn-out, melancholy notes of remembered springs. The wind was cruelly playful, offering staccato whispers of nipping flesh red and hardening the short grass to tiny daggers. To the west, I sensed a large green area, and beyond it, a river, the water sluggish and dirty, sad and resigned to the loss of its former splendor. To the east, close, was poetry—human music and words that were almost a spell, an unusual, Orphean magic, that of the best mortal storytellers. It could be dangerous—in the most skilled hands, it could enthrall even my kind—but I sensed nothing else, and so I began walking in that direction, down a broad lane labeled Diamond, an irony if ever there was one. The demon hurried to follow me.
We’d only proceeded a short distance when he began complaining, muttering about the cold through clacking teeth. His big body spasmed and shook, and when it started to vex me, I requested a small favor of the wind. It complied happily, glad to see one of my people, and did not ask for anything in return aside from the pleasure of raking its chilled fingers through my hair. The temperate air encircling the demon thankfully silenced his complaints, and he even grunted out a few words of gratitude.
I waved my hand. “I did it only to spare myself from being subjected to your mewling.”
“Arsehole,” he said, but he lowered the shoulders he’d bunched around his ears.
Before long we reached some sort of a complex comprised of large square buildings, mostly redbrick and glass. They sat on broad lawns, and wide, tiled walkways wound between them. “This place is almost pleasant.” I stopped and looked over my shoulder at Inky. “What is it?”
“A school. Temple University. We’re near the Tyler School of Art.” He opened his mouth and tasted the air like a serpent. “There are so many desires here, so much want….”
“You can fornicate later,” I told him, “after we’ve found the one who summoned me. Do they teach magic at this school?”
My question seemed to surprise him, and he stopped walking. “What? Hell no. There aren’t schools that teach magic. It’s only done in secret. But there could be mages here…. Unless you get in with Sekhet-Aaru or maybe the ESM, magic doesn’t exactly pay anything. Most rogue mages need day jobs. Still, I doubt one of them could have the skill to pull you over. But then nothing about this clusterfuck makes much sense to me.”
“You are ever so helpful.” I turned away from him. If he hadn’t been mildly entertaining, I’d have dismissed him as more trouble than he was worth. But it seemed the brunt of finding this human conjurer would fall to me. I followed the anemic veins of magic. It was like trying to track a filament through thick brambles, but eventually we reached a hall, and light came from within. From the window, I saw a group of young people gathered inside, holding sheaves of paper and standing in a lopsided ring. I stood listening as they seemed to rehearse some kind of performance. The acting was lackluster, barely mediocre, but the words held power that I hadn’t yet felt in this realm.
A gangly boy with greasy yellow hair and an overbite read from his script. “I’ll rhyme you so eight years together, dinners and suppers and sleeping hours excepted. It is the right butter-women’s rank to market.”
The girl who responded had a faint glow to her and she was nice to look at, with round hips and a glorious mane of curls standing out from her face like rays of light. I thought she might make a nice addition to one of my estates, where she could wear a dress made of buttercup petals and dance for me. “Out, fool.”
As the boy fumbled to find his place, flipping pages, I felt Inky’s warmth at my back. “This is delightful,” I told him.
“It’s just an old play. We should leave. We’re not getting anywhere here.”
“No. I want to keep watching.” Ignoring his protests, I turned my attention back to the group as the boy recited his next lines.
“For a taste: If a hart do lack a hind, let him seek out Rosalind. If the cat will after kind, so, be sure, will Rosalind.”
I laughed. “Clever.”
“It’s all about sex, you know,” Inky said. “He’s comparing Rosalind to an animal looking to mate.”
“Oh hush. I want to hear more of this.”
“We’re getting real fucking far finding the person who summoned you here.”
“Just be quiet, demon.” I rubbed the glass to clear away some of the rime and watched the boy, waiting for him to continue. His mouth hung open, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say he was staring right at me. But that was impossible; he wouldn’t see me unless I wanted him to. Cut off from my lands and hampered by the summoning, my powers weren’t as strong, but I could certainly manage to shield myself from the gaze of these clueless mortals. And this young actor had neither the beauty nor the talent to entice me to show myself.
“If the cat will after kind… the cat….” He stammered and raked his sweaty fringe off his face. “The cat will… the cat. Cat. Cat, cat, cat. The cat will after…. Rosalind…. Cat.”
A redheaded girl stepped forward and smacked the
lad on the shoulder. “What the hell, Dave? It’s written right there!” She gestured angrily toward the pages clutched in his shaking hand. “Can’t you read what’s right in front of you?”
I bit my lip in anticipation, hoping they would fight. If that happened, I predicted the girl would emerge victorious.
He scratched at his limp hair. “I feel…. The cat will after…. Rosalind…. The cat. Cat. I… I feel kind of sick.”
“Fuck, Dave,” said the redhead. “You begged for this fucking role. Put a little effort into it.”
A dark-skinned young man came to stand between them. “Look, it’s late, and all of us are tired. Let’s meet back up tomorrow after class.”
The girl shook her head but eventually acquiesced. The people in the room gathered their packs and filled them with their possessions before shutting off the lights and filing out. I pressed my hand to the window. “I wanted to hear the rest of the story. We should follow them and persuade them to continue. You know the mortals of this time. What will serve us better: bribery or threats? Maybe a small enchantment to make them want to continue. It might do wonders for their performances. I wonder if we could find a suitable arena to stage the show, somewhere comfortable to sit.”
“Easily distracted much?” Inky asked. “Liked it, did you?”
“It was tolerable,” I told him, and he seemed to soften at my words. He even smiled as he gripped my elbow to lead me away.
“There’s a lot to like about this world if you give it a chance, Blossom. That was Shakespeare. He wrote plays. There’s actually one all about faeries.”
“Indeed? What does he have to say about us?”
The demon smiled, flashing sharp teeth. “Mostly that you’re a bunch of arrogant, self-absorbed twats who use people to get what you want. It’s almost like he’s met you.”