Creatures of Want and Ruin

by Molly Tanzer

  “I do think a fresh start will be good for all of us,” said Fin. “I’ll just be making mine elsewhere.”

  “Well, if that’s how you feel, I’ll call my lawyer right now,” said Jimmy, pushing past Edgar as he stormed out of the room.

  “This has been delightful,” Fin said directly to Bobbie, “but I’m under a bit of a time constraint. I’m going to jot down a forwarding address. Would you make sure my things are sent to me, please, when you move?”

  “You’re so dramatic,” she said coldly.

  “Be that as it may, I’d still appreciate it,” said Fin, feeling rather amazed at herself for keeping her cool. She peered out into the hallway, past Lily and Edgar, who was looking at her respectfully, to her surprise. “Ready, Ellie?”

  “Sure,” said Ellie. Then turning to the rest of the group, in that hoity-toity voice she’d used on Fin more than once, she said, “It’s been a real pleasure meeting you all.”

  Fin was grateful for Ellie’s taciturn nature as they walked side by side out to her boat. The scene with her future ex-husband had given her a lot to think about, and she wanted to read over the important bits of The Demon in the Deep: the inscription, and the bit where Susan inspects the remains of Miss Depth’s summoning spell.

  In a strange way, Fin was actually looking forward to this.

  “So that’s the book, eh?” Ellie finally broke the silence. Fin nodded and handed it over, opened to the front page. After a moment, Ellie said, “I’ll admit that is an odd way to inscribe a book to a kid.”

  “It really is.”

  It occurred to Fin that in the book, the demon actively solicited Susan—she wondered then if G. Baker in turn had been soliciting her. Thinking back on that day, the way she’d been unable to lie . . . Given what Rocky had said about the powers bestowed upon diabolists, it fit. In fact, given the plot of The Demon in the Deep, Fin couldn’t help but wonder if it had been someone—something—else inside Baker’s skin at that book signing, so long ago. The demon had worn Miss Depth, after all.

  Fin knew she shouldn’t look for demons everywhere. But then again, knowing they were real and considering the inscription—“let this book be a lantern to light your way . . . If you use it as such, it will guide you. Just know that everything in it is true”—a little paranoia seemed fair.

  Whether G. Baker had encouraged her, or whether it was all coincidence, Fin had to walk the path she was on. It didn’t matter how she’d gotten there.

  “You know . . .” Ellie was grinning at her. “I’m not sure what I want more—for me to be right that this is all a lot of nonsense, or for you to be right, and for it all to be real.”

  Fin smiled back; apparently Ellie too felt the expectant mood, like Christmas morning.

  Ellie took them into a small, sheltered cove and anchored offshore. Fin didn’t see how they’d get to the spit of beach until Ellie stripped off her coveralls and shirt. After tying them into a little bundle, she left them on her seat and dove right in to the bay in just her underthings.

  She popped up, water shining on her bare forehead. “You can swim, can’t you?” she asked. “Seems like the sort of thing they’d teach you in that girls’ school.”

  “Sure I can swim,” said Fin as she shimmied out of her wrinkled frock. Before diving in, she tied the matches, the candle, the book, and everything else into her slip. “But I’ve never really done it in open water . . .”

  “You’ll be fine,” promised Ellie. “It gets shallow closer in; we can walk most of it.”

  The water of the bay was so warm it was like a bath, but also refreshing . . . Fin was amazed that with all the exploring she’d done around Long Island, she hadn’t actually done much swimming. She had when they’d all gone to Jones Beach to get some sun and be seen in it, but the water hadn’t been this warm. Today it was truly delightful; she wished she could forget her troubles and spend all day in it.

  They held their bundles high above their wet heads as they swam to shore. The water in the cove was quieter than the bay itself, so there was minimal splashing but a lot of laughter—a good reminder of what they were fighting for.

  While she’d seen plenty of images of witches dancing naked in their heathen sabbats, Fin pulled her dress back on once she was dry. She wasn’t so interested in reviving that particular myth today, and anyway, most of those seemed to be at night, when there was less risk of sunburn.

  “Right,” she said. “Let’s get this over with.”

  Ellie still seemed quite skeptical of the whole affair, but in a good-natured way—she helped Fin out by reading both the inscription and the passages aloud and discussing what some vague descriptions might mean, translated into an actual attempt at a summoning. What they ended up with was a little altar made of two stones and a flat piece of driftwood; upon that were two candles and the jar of Ellie’s mother’s beach plum jelly. A circle drawn in the sand with a stick completed their preparations.

  “It certainly looks witchy enough,” said Ellie.

  Fin understood Ellie’s doubts, but she also knew they were on the right track. She couldn’t say how, but she felt in her bones that something would happen today. She just didn’t know what.

  “I guess it’s time,” said Fin, after a deep breath that did little to soften the hard knot of anxiety in her stomach. “Do you want to try with me?”

  Ellie shook her head. “I’ll watch and try to help if something goes wrong.”

  Fin stepped gingerly inside the circle and knelt before her makeshift altar. She pried open the jar cap with her fingernails, the satisfying pop sending a shiver down her spine.

  As Fin lit the candles, clouds began to gather where before it had been a bright and sunny day. She had lived on Long Island long enough to know that the weather was quite variable this close to the sea, but there was something uncanny about the way the clouds were just there all of a sudden, thick and clotted and ominous. The light that filtered through them was strange, more like winter sunshine than summer, and though the day was warm, Fin shivered.

  The wind picked up—a cold wind, not a cooler breeze on a stormy summer day. As she thought about her need to really know the truth, the jar began to feel significantly heavier in her hands than it had before.

  With the spoon she’d stolen from her house Fin took a bit of jelly and then stuck it in her mouth. There hadn’t been any specific instructions on how to eat the stuff anywhere in The Demon in the Deep, just that the demon required a “sweet” offering, and she wasn’t quite sure what to expect.

  For a moment, she simply enjoyed the flavor, wild and tangy and tart. As it melted on her tongue, like lightning striking sand she felt her mind divide, and just as quickly it fused, re-forming into something new. Her eyes lost the ability to focus, but she could also see something new—a blurry shape before her, small and more like condensed vapor than anything solid. She wasn’t sure how she knew, but she knew she wasn’t really seeing it. It didn’t actually have any presence; this was just a trick of her mind to give her eyes something to focus on.

  Finally, said the demon, but it was impossible to tell if her ears were actually registering sound, or if it was all inside her mind. Only its irritated tone kept her from flat-out marveling at it. I thought you’d never summon me. And even after I practically begged you to.

  Fin wasn’t sure what to say to that. Its voice did seem familiar to her, or maybe it was just its presence.

  “We’ve met before,” she said. “You were . . .”

  Georgiana was still mostly herself, then, it said. But . . . yes, I was there.

  “Watching?”

  More than that, it said. After all, she meant her book to be a warning.

  “A warning . . .”

  Georgiana wouldn’t be the first of your kind to make a choice and then doubt whether she was right. She wanted to write something while she was still herself that would stop others from taking the same path. And yet, here you are.

  “Here I am,” she agreed.
“It’s true, I might regret summoning you, but I’ll regret it more if I do nothing and Long Island and its people perish.”

  She hadn’t told Ellie this, but there was a more personal side to Fin’s desire to save this place. The truth was, there hadn’t been a day since she’d promised Judge Glasser that she would never again mail illegal materials across state lines that she hadn’t regretted her shift to safer forms of activism. Here was her chance to do something direct, something real, something that would genuinely help people.

  Oh, I know all about the situation. It sounded profoundly unconcerned. Usually, our kind work on the small scale, but not, and it said a word in Fin’s mind that caused her physical pain. The sounds were nothing her brain could process, neither consonants nor vowels, no sibilants or familiar glottal stops. It seemed to last forever, too, but then the world returned to normal. She raised her fingers to her nose to find it was dripping blood. Her stomach settled, but her muscles felt sore and spent, as if she’d been doing some unfamiliar task for hours. No indeed, only the dramatic will satisfy—

  “Don’t say that name again!”

  Oh, of course. Forgive me; sometimes I forget the limits of the human mind.

  Fin didn’t think that was the case at all, for it sounded amused rather than contrite. Well, Fin wasn’t here to amuse it—she needed information.

  “So, given this demon’s penchant for the dramatic, you understand why it’s important for—”

  I understand much, my dearest Delphine. It couldn’t smile—it had no lips—and yet she felt it.

  “If I ask you to explain it to me, will you tell me the truth?”

  What is true for me may not hold true for you, it said, but as you already know, I can control whether or not others tell you the truth as you mean it, and that makes all this worth your while.

  It had forced her to tell the truth when she was young and eager to meet her favorite author.

  It was this revelation that made Fin finally take a step back from what she had done. She could not possibly understand the entity she had willingly called into this world—no, not into this world . . . called into her body. She had summoned it and consumed it; what was before her was mere illusion. Everything happening was inside her mind.

  Before this thought occurred to her, this had still seemed a bit like an adventure—something she could do to help in an unwinnable fight against an unknowable evil capable of unimaginable destruction. Now, she knew that the stakes were also quite personal. Even if they saved the island, she would never be the same.

  True, it said, its tone tinged with irony. If.

  It could also, apparently, read her mind.

  “Is it possible?” she asked it, knowing it would know what she meant.

  To save the island? Of course it’s possible. If you act quickly you may yet avert disaster.

  “How quickly? How do we—”

  Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Delphine. Fin bit off her questions; it would quite obviously reveal what it would reveal in its own time. We’ve just begun discussing things. For example, we haven’t decided what you will do to make attempting to save this island worth my while. And before you ask, no, it’s not worth it to me on what you would consider moral grounds. The potential loss of life is inconsequential, to me and to the universe. Plenty of islands have been swallowed by the sea since I first became aware of your world and my own ability to observe it.

  “I had no idea demons were so galling, or I might have reconsidered this entire plan,” she replied. “All right, then—what must I do?”

  There it is, said the demon, sounding pleased. The reason I marked you as my own. Even all those years ago you displayed that cool ability to see the ridiculous in things. One needs it to deal with demons . . . at least, to deal successfully with us.

  “What does successfully mean to you?” she asked. “To me, it means saving the island.”

  Then that is your truth, and we will treat it as inviolate. I will help you, Delphine, but you must give me something in return.

  “Name it.”

  Yourself. Fin had nothing to say to that, so after a moment it continued. It is the same cost for everyone. You are no different than Georgiana. I want you, Delphine.

  “You want me?”

  Yes. I enjoy living as a human, when I can, and since humans need me, I frequently get to indulge.

  Fin hated herself for hesitating, but she did. This was not what she had come prepared for. She barely knew who she was, and this demon was now asking her to become someone else.

  I can’t go making exceptions or everyone will think they’re entitled to one, it said. But, I don’t consider myself cruel, or at least not overly so . . . Since you have been so lost to yourself for so long, I’ll promise I won’t take my rights immediately.

  “That’s what you told Miss Depth, too.”

  True, but I have no desire to engage in this endeavor of yours. Saving this island is nothing to me. I will grant you what gifts I can give you—what generous gifts I can give you—to complete your task with my blessing while I attend to other matters, and then . . . Who can say? I’ll come for you eventually, in ten days, or ten years . . . It’s so easy to lose track of time, don’t you think? Maybe you’ll live a long life and die of natural causes before I get around to it. I can be forgetful, like anyone else.

  “Would you say you think you’ll come for me in closer to ten days or ten years? I’ll trust your answer, whatever you say, given that you’re a demon of truth . . .”

  Is it wise to get cute with me, do you think? She did not, and it knew that. Indeed. So, what will it be, Delphine? Your life, or everyone else’s? What matters more? Were you telling the truth when you said you wanted to save the island, or was that a lie?

  “It wasn’t a lie.” Fin knew that much. “Tell me of these generous gifts?”

  The gift of truth, what else? Fin felt more blood dripping from her nose, and she realized she hadn’t blinked her eyes during their entire conversation. She couldn’t. She wondered what Ellie was thinking, watching this.

  Ah, yes . . . Ellie. That girl is trouble, said the demon thoughtfully. She is becoming anxious; we should finish up soon. I’d try to recruit her, too—she’s also quite capable—but she’s immune.

  “Immune?” The word conjured up the memory of getting her diphtheria vaccination the previous year. “Immune to what?”

  I mean she cannot be swayed by demonic influence. That’s why that liquor you’ve all been drinking had no effect on her.

  “But she said she’s been seeing things that others can’t . . .”

  There was a grudging respect in its tone now. Her immunity allows her to discern the truth in different ways than I can provide. This happens sometimes . . . Some of your kind are particularly sensitive to our influence, while others cannot be touched by us. It makes her useless to me . . . but likely quite useful to you, in your coming fight. The quintessence of that which would destroy this island is change, and its servants can ensorcel and bewitch with their words, bringing people to their side. It’s easier to do when the message is . . . palatable . . . but your comrades must also beware.

  “Thank you for the warning,” said Fin.

  Then we have a deal?

  “I have one more question.”

  “Let’s have it.” The demon now sounded bored.

  “Why on earth has Hunter spent his time recruiting people to his cause if the island is going to be destroyed?”

  Hunter has chosen to believe a lie of his own creation—that the change and destruction he beheld was metaphorical, rather than physical. This demon he has summoned—it is not in its nature to dissemble. All this time, he has simply needed to perform whatever ritual was revealed to him by his master, but instead he recruited an army to rule that which he thinks he will create. What he will create, however, will be death for himself and life unlike what your race has seen before.

  “I can’t let it happen,” said Fin, the first thing she’d b
een certain about in this entire conversation.

  Then why are you hesitating? Take a look at your life as you’ve lived it. Do you really think you’d be any worse off with me in control of it?

  That stung, but it was a truth demon, after all. Fin thought for a moment about how she’d been so eager to do something important with her life, the paths she had taken with their detours and dead ends . . . and accepted her fate.

  She didn’t even have to say it; the demon knew.

  I’m glad you made the right choice, it said. I’ll leave you to it. Remember, to your kind, truth is often subjective . . . But when an individual confesses their personal truth, they will reveal much to you. You will see through all lies, including the lies people tell themselves. Just keep a bit of that delightful jelly on hand . . . You’ll need it. If I’m not a part of you, inside you, I can’t help you.

  Fin gasped and fell backward onto the beach. She rubbed at her sandy eyes; when her hands came away bloody, she screamed.

  See you soon, it said.

  Ellie was there, standing above her, shaking her. “Fin!” she cried. “Are you all right?”

  “I . . . talked to it,” she said. “I saw it—I mean, I saw something, and it told me . . .” Fin didn’t know where to begin.

  “Fin,” said Ellie, using a big handkerchief to wipe at her face, “you had a bit of the jelly, and then you just . . . froze. What happened?”

  Now that it was all over, she wasn’t quite sure.

  “We did it,” she said. “We summoned it, and we can use it. We should go talk to your father right now. We should—”

  “Slow down,” said Ellie, dabbing at her face with that big handkerchief. “You’re not well.”

  “Listen to me,” said Fin, grabbing Ellie’s hands with her bloody ones. “He can’t lie to me. You can, because you’re immune. That’s why Hunter couldn’t seduce you; that’s why the liquor didn’t give you visions. It can’t affect you; demons can’t affect you. It’s just who you are.”