by Quinn Loftis
As she spoke the wind increased, causing the very walls of the manor to shake. The floor rumbled, and Aviur felt his own power answering the call of the air queen’s. “You are a human who has chosen to sell your soul to demons because of the power you think they give you. You are the very worst of what humanity has to offer, and you dare to stand before us and act like our questions impose upon you?”
“What we do,” Saphora said as she breathed out through clenched teeth, “has no effect upon you. Why should you care?”
“We care for all life. We are elementals. We wield that which makes life flourish or takes it away. Of course, we care,” Kairi answered before Nasima could speak. The water queen’s skin was beginning to sparkle with dew, and the water that seemed to always make up her dress began flowing faster.
Aviur took a step closer and drew the witch’s attention. “I think it is clear we don’t really care what you think we should or should not be interested in. The point is, we want to know what demons you’ve summoned, any and all, and why you summoned them. You can either give us the answers we want or we can find your grimoires and get the answers that way. But let me warn you, I’m not careful when I’m searching for things and I’ve lost my patience. Sometimes, I get so irritated that flames spontaneously appear. Then comes the wind, and before you know it, the whole damn place is ablaze. And it always seems to happen when there’s a drought. It’s the damnedest thing.”
Nasima chuckled and the wind began to die down.
After several tense moments, Saphora finally gave a single nod of her head. Her feet touched the ground an instant later, and the wind completely dissipated. She straightened her suit jacket and her sleeves. “If you will please follow me. I need to consult the books you mentioned.” She glanced at Aviur. “My memory isn’t what it used to be.”
The fire king smirked. “Of course.”
The three elementals stepped aside so Saphora could close the front doors, and then they followed her up the grand staircase to the third floor. The house was just as dark on the inside, with its black walls, deep red carpet, and dim lighting. Aviur found himself wondering if the Blackhorn coven was poking fun at themselves as a coven of witches, or if they were really that unoriginal.
At the end of the hall, Saphora pushed open a large, arched door to what appeared to be a spell room. Aviur felt magic brush over his skin as he entered. He immediately pulled his flames over himself and burned the magic away. Whatever demons the Blackhorns were consorting with, they were powerful.
Saphora pulled a large, leatherbound book from one of the shelves. She handled it with great care as she set it gently down on a table. The witch opened the book, and the spine cracked as if it hadn’t been read in quite some time.
Her eyes scanned page after page, taking in the Latin words printed in scrawling handwriting. After several minutes of this, she finally stopped and looked up at them. “What demon is it that you are looking for? I ask because, as I’m sure you’re aware, there are a lot of them.”
“Something powerful. A demi-lord,” Nasima said.
Saphora’s eyes widened. “A demi-lord?” The shock in her voice was real.
“Has Blackhorn never summoned one?” Aviur asked.
Her dark eyes locked with his as she answered. “As much as we like power, we enjoy living even more. You can’t be powerful if you are dead.”
“So, you’re saying a demi-lord would be too strong for you to control?” he asked.
“Not necessarily. Summoning a demon always has a cost, and the more powerful the creature, the higher the cost. We could do it if we were willing to pay the price.”
“Have you summoned a demi-lord or not?” Nasima asked. “If you haven’t, what’s the most powerful demon you have summoned?”
Saphora flipped through the pages of the book again and ran her finger across the lines of writing. “First, you have to understand how demons are classified, which is according to their strength. A demi-lord is second only to the lord of the underworld. Granted, each demi-lord has various powers, and some might be slightly more powerful than others, but mostly they move linearly to one another on the demonic power grid.”
Aviur’s brow rose a little. It probably wasn’t appropriate for him to be amused by the fact that a witch was giving them a lesson on demon hierarchy. But then, he prided himself on being inappropriate at the most inappropriate times.
When no one responded, Saphora looked up from her book.
Nasima motioned with her hand and said, “Please, continue. You clearly have more knowledge about this than we do.”
The air queen was not wrong. Royal elementals were certainly not up to speed on the hierarchy of beings in the underworld. Their concerns were with the land of the living. Unless the two worlds collided, which seems to be what had happened a century ago, the elementals steered clear of the land of the dead.
“Right. Please, have a seat. This might take a while.”
When Kairi glanced at him with a questioning look, Aviur knew he wasn’t the only one who’d noticed Saphora’s considerable change in demeanor toward them.
“Thank you,” Nasima said as they sat.
Saphora took the chair at the table and pulled the book closer as she continued to read quietly, all the while still speaking to them.
“Demons are classified in power by their domain. It isn’t their wickedness that makes them particularly powerful. It’s their ability to corrupt. Demi-lords have proven their worth by influencing many or corrupting great men or women.” Saphora stopped speaking as she flipped through several pages and then continued. “One of the things that denotes a demi-lord is that they have been given an entire level of the underworld to control. Though there are only seven levels of hell, there are more than seven demi-lords.”
“What sets them apart if they don’t rule a level?” Aviur asked.
“Whatever it is that Osiris allows them,” she answered without looking up from her book. “The lord of the underworld determines, ultimately, what power the demi-lords have.”
“And what type of a demon is below a demi-lord?” Kairi asked.
“A conjurer. They are the only other kind of demon that can take a physical form in the topworld,” she explained. “Any other demon is invisible to humans and can only influence the human realm by possessing a body.”
“Am I correct in assuming Blackhorn coven has summoned conjurers but not demi-lords?” Aviur asked.
“You are. And the conjurers we summoned were not done so to invoke a spell that was used to hurt others.”
Kairi guffawed and Nasima scoffed. “Not to hurt others? What do you expect will happen when you summon demons to the mortal realm?” Kairi asked. “That they just want to frolic in the open air? Take a little break from all the sulfur? Demons care for nothing and no one other than themselves. You aren’t dumb enough to believe the lie you just tried to feed us.”
Saphora closed the book and laid her folded hands on top of it. She let out a slow breath. “We have summoned conjurer demons because it takes less sacrifice on the part of the coven since they can already take a physical form. But I can assure you, every time a conjurer has been summoned, the spells didn’t go beyond the circle in which they were cast. I can give you a blood oath if you’d like.”
Nasima shook her head and held up her hand. “We do not deal in the blood of mortals,” she said. “We will take you at your word. Thank you for being so forthcoming with us.” They stood as one. Instead of heading for the door, Aviur opened a portal.
“Before you go,” Saphora said, “you should know about something I found in the grimoire that might be of interest. Blackhorn was approached by a small coven in Europe a century or so ago, asking for help in summoning the lord of the underworld.”
Aviur didn’t miss the way Nasima’s jaw clenched as she gave a nod of thanks and then stepped through the fire portal he’d opened. He gave a slight bow of his head as he followed Kairi through. They appeared in the same place as
before on the street down from the manor.
“Well, that was interesting,” he said as he dusted off his clothes, feeling as though the stink of the coven magic was still clinging to him.
“She changed her tune once she realized we weren’t just picking on her coven,” Nasima said.
Kairi added, “She seemed genuinely scared when we mentioned summoning a demi-lord.”
Nasima nodded. “I noticed that, too. I get the feeling such a thing is taboo in a coven, or at least in one as old as Blackhorn.”
“Do you know of this small European coven she is talking about?” Aviur asked.
“They should be in the World Coven Directory,” Nasima said. “The wonder of the modern age and the internet.” She pulled a cell phone from her dress, which caused him to smile. The irony that they could control the elements and yet still had to use modern things was not lost on him.
The air queen did some tapping on the phone’s screen, and a few minutes later she slipped it back into her pocket.
“We’re headed to London.” She waved her hand in the air and opened a portal.
“After you,” Aviur said. He motioned for the ladies to go through first. As he stepped into the portal, he glanced over his shoulder and saw that Saphora was standing on the porch of the Blackhorn Manor watching them. Her eyes weren’t full of the disdain they had been when they’d arrived at her door. Now, they held the unmistakable edge of dread.
7
Nasima called the wind to her and wiped away the dark magic that had surrounded her while she’d been in the Blackhorn Manor. She had never liked being near witches, but being in their place of magic, where they conjured and summoned, was even worse. Having to enter two such places in one day was really pushing her patience. For a moment, she allowed herself to think of Beval. Her mate would have teased her mercilessly as her irritation grew because he loved to poke at her. There was no doubt in her mind he adored her, but that didn’t stop him from provoking her as often as he could.
They were standing on the steps of a home that looked as though it could be in a Norman Rockwell painting, so picturesque and perfect. It was in complete contrast to the feeling of darkness that washed over her when she pushed the doorbell. Nothing so evil should cling to something so pretty.
“This is definitely the place,” she murmured to her two companions.
“Did Mary Poppins become a wicked witch?” Aviur asked, his deep voice an amused purr even as his shrewd eyes took in their surroundings like the predator he was.
“This is more like Hansel and Gretel than Mary Poppins,” Kairi said. “Looks perfect, but the kids are going to get eaten if they go inside.”
The door opened, and an elderly lady smiled from the threshold. It should have been a warm, inviting smile on a kind face, but the eyes were filled with too much darkness for any warmth to fit.
Nasima had to force herself not to take a step back. If she’d thought Saphora had been submerged in dark magic, she’d been wrong. With the amount of dark power practically dripping from the woman’s pores, she was either possessed by a demon or she had just left the presence of a very strong one.
“Can I help you?” she asked in a soft voice.
“By all means,” Aviur muttered, “open the oven door so we can climb in.”
Nasima coughed to cover the unexpected but very needed laugh. “Excuse me,” she said as she cleared her throat. “We were hoping to speak to the high priest or priestess of this establishment.”
The woman’s smile didn’t falter, but there was a small tick in her cheek that Nasima didn’t miss. “What establishment? This isn’t a church.”
“My dear lady, no one would mistake this place for a holy house,” Aviur said as he dropped the tall, dark, and handsome act and let his true nature come forth. There was a shift in his face, and the fire that simmered behind his eyes came to the surface. Nasima could feel heat coming off his body, and she knew he was blocking the magic that was attempting to attach itself to them. Whoever was deep in the house was trying to put a spell on the three royal elementals. They obviously didn’t know who was standing on their stoop.
“Do you have a name?” the old woman asked.
“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours,” Aviur purred, his voice sounding even more sinister. When the woman didn’t respond, he shrugged and said, “Or we can just call you Weird Sister number two. We met Weird Sister number one already.”
“Macbeth?” Kairi questioned as she glanced at the fire king. “Isn’t that going to get a little confusing?”
“Truly,” Nasima agreed. “If she won’t give us her name, just call her Hecate and be done with it.”
“I think that’s giving her a little too much credit,” Aviur tsked. “The name of the Greek goddess of witchcraft?” He clucked his tongue. “That won’t do.”
“What about Elphaba?” Kairi offered.
Aviur shook his head. “Too green.”
“Glenda?”
“Too good.”
“Maleficent?” The water queen tried again.
“Too long.”
Nasima sighed. The old woman was staring at them as if they’d lost their minds. Her eyes were bouncing back and forth between Aviur and Kairi as if she was watching a tennis match. “By the elements, just call her Ursula and let us move on.”
Aviur snapped his fingers and pointed at her. “Perfect. Old, ugly, and tentacles to boot,” he said in a jovial voice that belied the simmering anger in his eyes. “You wouldn’t happen to be hiding any tentacles under that dress would you, Ursula?”
“Beg your pardon?” The old woman gasped.
Before Aviur could continue, Nasima spoke. “Osiris said to tell you to quit summoning his demi-lords.” She allowed the bite of cold winter air to fill her voice. ‘Ursula’ shivered and took a step back.
“I think you need to leave.” She started to close the door.
Apparently, the water queen was fed up with the act, despite her willingness to play along with Aviur and his name game, as a rush of water pushed the door open. Ursula was thrown back. Kairi walked in behind her river of power. The old woman squealed in fright, but she regained her balance and kept her feet against the cascading flood. Nasima and Auvir followed Kairi into the house. The water queen waved her hand, and the entire entryway, including Ursula, was again dry.
“How dare you enter here unbidden,” Ursula gasped. The kind grandmotherly tone was gone from her voice. It held a darkness that would have caused a grown man to flee in terror.
“I am Nasima, empress of the air,” she said as she gathered her power and allowed a small tornado to rush around them.
Kairi released her own magic, and suddenly every surface was covered in ice. “I am Kairi, queen of the water,” she said.
A flash of flames flowed over Aviur, and he smiled. “And I am Aviur. You might guess which element I control. But what’s more important, my dear Ursula, is that you and your coven are in a heap of trouble.”
The woman’s eye widened as she looked at each of them.
“What is taking so lo—” Another woman’s sharp voice came from down the hall but stopped abruptly when she entered the room. She appeared to be in her late twenties with long, dark brown hair plaited into a braid that flowed over her shoulder. She wore a black robe with a star on the upper, right chest. And on her head was an honest-to-goodness pointed hat.
“Okay, so maybe they all like clichés,” Aviur said as he glanced at Nasima.
She shrugged. “Or they simply lack creativity.”
“Who the hell are you?” the younger woman asked with an authority that belied her age. No one that young spoke with such gravitas if they couldn’t back it up with a healthy amount of power.
“High priestess?” Nasima asked.
The younger woman’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll ask again. Who the hell are you?”
Nasima blew her breath out in a slow, steady stream as if she were blowing out a candle. The air came out like a mons
oon and hit the younger woman in the chest. Much like Saphora, this witch was pinned against the wall.
“I hate repeating myself,” Nasima said. “We are the royal elementals, here to question you regarding your involvement in summoning demi-lords from the underworld. And we are really, really tired of dealing with witches.”
“Really tired,” Aviur added.
Nasima narrowed her eyes on the witch. “You are going to identify yourself, and then you are going to tell us who you’ve been summoning. Got it?”
The woman nodded as she clenched her jaw. Nasima released her. The instant she hit the ground, she spewed a mouthful of words in Latin and flung out her hands. Ursula copied the words and flung her hands out as well.
Nasima glanced down at the ground. Thousands of scorpions, insects, and spiders rushed toward them. She would have laughed had she not been so irritated.
Kairi raised her hand, and a rush of water exploded forward, washing the witches’ magic away. “You dare attack us?” The water queen asked, her usually kind voice full of rage.
Nasima placed her hand on Kairi’s shoulder, hoping to keep the queen of water from destroying the house and all the other houses on the block.
“This is a fight you cannot win,” Nasima told the young witch. “The fact that you think you even have a chance tells me how very young you are.”
“We do not answer to you,” the woman snarled. “Our ancestors’ power is ours to wield as we wish, and you have no right to come—”
“WE have no right?” Aviur roared. “We have been here since the beginning of time. We have wiped entire nations from the earth with a simple wave of the hand. And you have the nerve to say we have no right? Have you been doing drugs? Are narcotics part of the initiation rights in a coven now?” Flames ran up and down Aviur’s arms as he paced. The woman’s mouth opened and closed several times before she finally snapped it shut tight.
