XXXIII.

XXXIII.

After putting the disfigured and possessed Elphin out of her misery and thereby releasing the many souls within her, the Brute went over to the old tomes and scrolls. He spent a long time going through it all, but then he found what he was searching for. A scroll with a list of Daemon names and what seemed like short descriptions of them and how to summon them.

Have you found the Name you seek?

He grunted affirmatively.

So, what now?

Summon here.

Ciana took an involuntary step back in surprise. What do you mean?

This Daemon peculiar. Must do it here.

She spent a few agonising moments wondering if she had helped someone who was exactly the same as the Magisters that had experimented on her and killed so many others like her. She eventually came to a conclusion and steeled herself.

What can I do to help? she asked.

Can you read?

Not well, no, she replied. She knew how to speak Lleman, Novarocian, and Demonic, but she had never fully learnt to read any of the languages, picking up only the words and such from Lleman and Novarocian that were necessary for her solitary life of staying away from major population centres.

Heskel grunted, but then came to some decision. Repeat after me as I work.

She nodded and followed him to the centre, where the lifeless Elphin girl lay, the chains removed from her and the pervasive stench of the possessing demons gone.

To her immense dismay, Heskels work turned out being the skinning of the Elphin using a ritual knife taken from one of the dead Magisters.

What are you doing!?

Necessary.

Didnt you say Elphin are sacred to you!?

Heskel had broken the locks on the pens, but left the human livestock unharmed. After draining the bodies and having to construct another pouch for holding the many litres of blood, the Brute started back towards the crypt, while Ciana told the frightened prisoners which way to go to escape the Academy and find civilisation. Many of them were so emaciated that she doubted they would survive long, but hope had a way of sustaining people beyond their natural limits, so anything was possible.

Once they were back within the confines of the crypt, Heskel constructed a large trough that circled around the summoning sigil, by gouging-in the floor. He poured the fifty-plus-litres of blood into this hastily-made trench, so that there were now three rings to the entire painting, the outer one obviously being the largest.

With this final step done, he took Ciana by the hand, and they stepped over the trough so that they stood before the second ring with the four wings. He bade her kneel on the stone before the drawing, then he drew a ring large enough for both of them to fit in, before drawing a line that connected their ring to the trench and then through the second ring and connecting to the septagram.

He took her hands and put them on the dry linework in front of them and then said,

Recite.

Ciana took a deep breath, drawing the memorised litany from her mind, then, with careful attention to the syllables and the sing-song flow of the demonic tongue, she began to recite.

Belamouranthyne, heed my singing bell!

Lady Legion, whose gaze enthrals even Kings, see what offerings I brought!

Belladonna Flower, O how I long to taste thou essence, let me witness thy blooming!

Belamouranthyne, I sound the bells of ecstasy and rapturous merry, let their sounds carry thee forth! Let thy illustrious figure manifest in this realm that is thine by right! Let these humble eyes of mine behold thy splendour!

Immediately, the blood in the trench around them started lifting into the air above them like a sentient crimson wave, before surging into the very centre of the summoning sigil, which was glowing a soft violet along its lines. The blood began swirling around like a waterspout within the septagram and reached all the way to the ceiling, but the chaos quickly settled and fell inward, taking on the form of a voluptuous female figure, who was holding the Elphin Mask aloft. The gaze of this born-of-blood figure moved over them, before settling on the script within the four wings of the second circle. As it read the text, the letters set alight in a violet fire and became charred black.

Then there came a melodramatic sigh, followed by a voice that reminded Ciana of a prostitute she had once known. To be summoned by an untouchable sort such as you But, alas, I find your contract favourable. May you use me well, half-spawn.

Then the figure of blood was pulled into the Elphin Mask and vanished from sight. The mask, which had been held between her fingers, clattered to the floor, seeming to have gained a significant amount of mass from the completion of the ritual.

Neither Heskel nor Ciana moved for a few minutes after, even though the violet glow was gone, and the crimson linework had become coal-black.

The Brute was the first to stand and take a step out of their circle, and she thought she saw a moment of hesitation from him, as though he feared what they had brought into the world.

He turned and seemed to regard her with newfound respect.

Well done.