The Trouble with Demons (31 page)

“Not safe?” Talon said helpfully, grinning from ear to pointed ear.

“No, I’m not safe!” Piaras snapped. He turned on me. “Now everyone’s going to know!”

Talon snorted. “Everyone already does.”

Piaras actually snarled at me.

Talon clapped him on the back. “Not a problem. I know some ladies who can get you safe real quick. Though if you’re looking for a freebie, you and Katelyn could help each other out. She’s definitely not safe.”

Piaras blushed scarlet. I smacked Talon in the back of the head.

Topic closed.

 

 

Demonologists could make a lot of money in the private sector. Law-
enforcement agencies were the natural choice for postgraduate work, but it didn’t pay worth a damn. City governments expected their citizens to be protected but only paid a pittance for the privilege. The more money-minded demonologists worked for themselves—if you had demon problems and enough gold, a freelance demonologist would gladly take both of them off of your hands.

So while Mid was on its way to becoming hell on earth—a freelancer would have called it paradise.

We didn’t have freelancers, or time to call any in. We had students and faculty. Hopefully the old adage “those who can’t do, teach” didn’t apply to the demonology department faculty. If so, we were all seriously screwed.

Starke Hall, which housed the Conclave college’s demonology department, wasn’t chaos, but it was close.

The students were either grim-faced and determined or wide-eyed and excited. The former were probably graduate students or upperclassmen who knew what was happening; the latter were merely young and clueless. Those grad students knew that during the next few hours or days, they were going to get a nasty taste of what working in the real world was like. The young ones would be told to hide.

The sight of me, Vegard, four massive Guardians, and four leather-clad goblin dark mages in the corridor didn’t help the situation. If anything, grim turned grimmer, some of the wide-eyed ones added open mouths to their expressions, and several students decided they needed to be somewhere else.

But most of them were looking at me. From the looks I was getting, they knew who I was and what I had done at watcher headquarters.

The crowded corridor suddenly got a lot less crowded.

Professor, and now demonology department chairman, Sora Niabi was standing at the far end.

I was armed for ogre. She was armed for everything else.

The professor had a couple of bladed and blunt weapons that I could see, but it was the talismans I sensed on her that would ensure the instant regret of anyone or anything who had the poor judgment to mess with her. If what I sensed was any indication, anything they started, she could finish. Permanently.

Talon saw the professor. “Damn.” He sounded disappointed.

“Damn what?” I asked.

“We have to go to class and you and the prof are off to kick demonic ass.”

“You
want
to kick demonic ass?”

“Anything’s better than Demons for Dummies.”

“What?”

“Demonology 101,” Piaras clarified. “It’s an introductory course. It gives the non-demonology major some practical experience. It’s a general college course, so everyone has to take it.”

Talon snorted. “After what we did yesterday, you’d think we’d get bumped up a level or two.”

“Master Nathrach, do you know the name, type, and classification of the demon that by some miracle you actually managed to hold on to for two minutes?” It was Sora Niabi, her arms were crossed, and her expression severe.

“No, ma’am,” Talon said. “But we—”

“It was a Volghul, Master Nathrach. I would advise that you look it up in your textbook. And while you’re at it, you may want to pay special attention to a Volghul’s preferences in terms of captives/food, and precisely how they play with, and eventually prepare and consume that which they have caught.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “You meet every last one of its preferences, and no doubt it would have enjoyed you immensely. So before you mistake the miracle that enabled you to survive your encounter as skill, and think that it qualifies you to move up to a more advanced course, you should think again.”

Talon swallowed with an audible gulp. “Thinking’s good.”

“It’s very good. In fact, we highly encourage it here. Now you and Master Rivalin are dismissed.”

“With your guards,” I added firmly.

“Guests are always welcome in class,” Sora murmured. She glanced at the four dark mages. “Especially those who have practical experience to add to a lesson.”

“Piaras, I’ll probably be in Professor Berel’s office,” I told him. “When you get out of class, come and find me. We have work to do.”

Piaras nodded. Talon’s snicker ended in an oof when Piaras elbowed him in the ribs.

Sora didn’t say a word until Piaras and Talon were safely in their classroom with their guards.

“Work?” she asked. “Something I should know about?”

I told her about the Scythe of Nen, why I needed it, and how Piaras was qualified to help me find it. And I told her that I wanted to start that search in Professor Berel’s office.

Sora smiled and nodded. “Virgins and demons, an oldie but a goodie. I’ve overheard the students talking. It sounds like they’ve put defense plans of their own into motion.”

I grinned crookedly. “Working together to make sure everyone’s safe?”

Sora grinned back. “Damn fine work if you can get it. It’s good to see the student body working together.”

“The kids are going at it like rabbits, aren’t they?”

Sora chuckled. “That’s what I hear.”

“Is it true?” I asked. “That demons like virgins?”

“Raine, demons will eat anything, male or female, virgin or not. Some do have preferences, but they’ll all take what they can get.”

“And they’re capable of taking anyone on this island.”

“If what we’ve seen is any indication of what’s coming, they can take
everyone
on this island. I don’t care how much demon fighting experience someone has, myself included. Outnumbered plus overwhelmed equals eaten.” She looked through one of the partially open classroom doors at the young students inside, and I saw concern and maybe even fear reflected in her dark eyes. “Or worse.”

“Well, if you have any idea where this Scythe of Nen is, Piaras and I won’t have to go looking for it. It’d be a lot safer for both of us.”

“The demons obviously didn’t find it in Professor Berel’s town house.”

“How about his office here?” I asked.

“I’ve been in there. Nothing in there matches that description, though you’re more than welcome to look. Laurian Berel didn’t like knives, daggers, or any edged weapons. But colleagues and visiting academics kept giving him the things as gifts. I guess they thought a demonologist would like weapons.”

“Demonologists can’t be easy to shop for,” I said.

Sora smiled. “We’re not, though most of us will take a couple bottles of good whiskey. Since Laurian didn’t want to admit that he was afraid of daggers, he gave every last one of them away. Only a few of us knew of his fear.”

I had an unpleasant flashback. The Volghul claws that ripped out his throat definitely qualified as edged weapons. Killed by what you feared the most. Oh yeah, everybody wanted to go like that.

“Apparently the demons didn’t know that daggers weren’t his thing,” I said.

Raised voices came from the classroom with the partially open door. I could see a man, presumably a professor, cross his arms and lean against the front of his desk.

“Let me get this straight—a demon ate your homework?” the man asked dubiously.

“Yes, sir.” The response sounded like it came from the front row.

“You mean dog.”

“No, sir. Demon. A Crog.”

The man raised an eyebrow. “You’re sure?”

“Positive, sir.”

“You don’t want to change your story?”

“I can’t. It’s the truth. It was in my bookbag.”

“Where is it now?”

“It jumped out and ran off when I unbuckled the bag.” The boy made a face. “I really didn’t want to chase it, sir. It didn’t take anything else, and Crogs are really disgusting.”

Sora pushed open the door. “Was the Crog brown with blue stripes or green?” she asked the startled student.

The boy sat up as straight in his chair as possible. “Blue, Professor Niabi.”

“You’re positive?”

“Unfortunately positive, ma’am. I got a really close look at it.”

Sora turned to me. “Crogs like any kind of paper, parchment, or ink.”

I made a face. “Ink?”

“They’ll drink the stuff if they can find a bottle. You usually find Crogs in libraries or bookstores.” She turned back to the wide-eyed student. “Were you in the Scriptorium last night?”

He nodded. “I was finishing a research assignment.”

“You must have picked him up there. The Scriptorium staff sets traps baited with outdated textbooks,” Sora told me. “This one must have had a taste for fresher paper.”

“There hasn’t been a Crog in the Scriptorium in years,” the student insisted fearfully. “Chief Librarian Kalta would never permit it. He has wards in place to keep everything out.”

And everyone. I’d had an up close and unpleasant encounter with Lucan Kalta last week.

I stepped forward. “And how do you know about the Scriptorium’s wards?”

The student looked questioningly at Sora. She nodded.

“I have a part-time job in the Scriptorium,” he told me.

That would make Lucan Kalta his boss. The kid must have needed the money real bad.

“Excuse accepted,” Sora told the student. “In the immediate future, check your bag before leaving the Scriptorium.”

“Definitely, ma’am.”

Sora left the room; I followed. Vegard had waited outside. “Demons are turning up everywhere,” he muttered.

Sora strode purposefully down the hall. “Not just any demon, Vegard. And not just any place.”

What I knew about demons wouldn’t fill a hat, but I’d gathered from Sora’s reaction in that classroom that blue stripes were worse than green. “Blue stripes are bad, I take it?”

“They are. Greenies are as common as rats in a warehouse.

Officially they’re not even demons. They closely resemble Crogs, so most people just lump them together, most demonologists included.”

“So blue-striped Crogs are significant how?”

Sora kept walking, but her lips curled in a satisfied smile. “They’re not summoned.”

“Let me guess: they came through the Hellgate.”

“Correct. And they stay close to it.” Her smile broadened.

“Very close.”

 

 

“Maybe, maybe not,” Sora said. “The Scriptorium is in the center city, and under the city are—”

“Tunnels.” My lack of enthusiasm was evident.

Sora nodded. “Hundreds of miles of them, I understand. Never felt the urge to go exploring myself. Though it’s ill-advised to open a Hellgate in a tunnel. You’d need a chamber. Fairly large, definitely stable, and if you don’t want to get caught while you’re opening it, easily defensible.”

“Anything like that under the Scriptorium?”

“Too many to count. Though with very few exceptions, the center city is where most of the sightings have occurred.”

“Under the campus.”

“Unfortunately, yes. The largest area to cover and also the most densely populated.”

“How far is the Scriptorium from here?”

“Just two blocks.”

I looked down, wishing the Saghred had given me the ability to look through floors and rock. “Tunnels and chambers right under our feet.”

Sora lowered her voice. “Quite possibly.”

I swore silently. I hated tunnels. I especially hated tunnels probably seething at this very second with demons and dark mages—or Reapers. Thankfully, I had work to do up here. “Can I see Professor Berel’s office?”

“Follow me.”

 

 

Laurian Berel’s office was what you’d expect a department chairman
to have. Spacious corner office with a window. At least it would have been spacious if it’d been cleaned out in the past couple of decades, and there was probably a window with a nice view behind those heavy and closed drapes. Permeating the place was a smell I couldn’t identify and quite frankly, I didn’t really want to. I was tempted to pull back those curtains and open the window to let in some fresh air, but something on a long table in front of the window made me reconsider that. Several somethings, actually.

Demons in miniature. Dead and otherwise. The dead ones were either preserved in jars or stuffed and mounted. The others were alive and in clear cases faintly glowing with containment spells. A couple of them were glowing a little too faintly for my comfort.

“Pets,” Sora told me.

I blinked. “What?”

“Most of us faculty feel the same way.”

Vegard’s expression was somewhere between appalled and just plain disgusted. “That’s creepy as hell, Professor,” he said. “No pun intended.”

They were all looking at us, and one looked uncomfortably similar to the yellow latrine demon, except this one was green. I didn’t want to ponder what caused the color difference. Its lips curled back, showing me several rows of needle-sharp green teeth. He glared at me. I stared back. Then I realized something and looked away—you can’t win a staring contest with something that doesn’t have eyelids.

“I don’t even want to ask how he fed them,” I muttered. “Or what.”

“Sometimes he did a better job of it than others,” Sora told me. “One time he was having a faculty meeting in here while he fed them. He got distracted, and Green Teeth there got a surprise treat. Laurian was certainly surprised. Did you notice he was missing two fingers on his left hand?”