Chapter 393: The Catching of One Offguard

“Come in,” Baelin’s voice boomed through the doors. “But mind your step.”

“Mind my step?” Alex wondered aloud. “Why do I have to mind my—”

His words faded.

Why was it so dark?

But, why could he still see like he was looking through the surface of a deep lake on a sunny day?

It was nearly pitch-black in the vast chamber, yet at the same time, it wasn’t.

He’d spent enough time in Baelin’s office to know that—even at night—it was always lit, either by moonlight, light spells, or often, a combination of both. Tonight, there was no light, none coming in from the soaring windows, no reflection bouncing off of them. They simply blended with the walls, forming a single lightless surface. Heavy, black curtains covered them, creating a darkness so layered that they could not possibly be natural.

But this made the space feel off, wrong. He stepped closer to Claygon. The golem gripped his war-spear. ‘Why can I see? It’s pitch black in here.’

There was light coming from the hallway, but not enough to see as well as he could: the fireplace wasn’t lit, no magical lights hovered in the chamber. In reality, he should have only been able to see the vaguest of silhouettes.

Eyes flashed in the dark—and he moved even closer to Claygon—when the chancellor’s towering, horned figure glided through the shadows in the back of the room.

“Baelin?” Alex whispered. “Baelin is that you?”

“I should hope so,” the ancient wizard’s voice came back through the blackness. “Shut the door, would you? There is too much light coming in.”

‘Claygon, would you mind shutting the door?’ Alex thought.

Behind him, his golem took a deep, rumbling step.

Then the hall light died and he heard the click of the door latch. He blinked several times, expecting all light to vanish, but—somehow—he could still make out shapes throughout the space. His vision wasn’t sharp enough for him to sprint around the room, but he could make his way through it without falling headfirst over furniture.

“What’s going on, Baelin?” he asked.

“Hmmm, before I answer, would you mind telling me what you see?”

“Um, let's see.” He slowly looked through the strange darkness, reporting everything he saw in detail. From nearby, he heard a pen scratching.

“Most excellent,” Baelin said, moving closer to Alex. Those goat-like eyes seemed to shed their own inner radiance. “Thank you for that, my young friend.”

“Huh? What’re you doing?”

“A side-experiment that occurred to me to run at the same time we engage in this summoning. I will spare you the details for now—the specifics involved require a rather lengthy explanation—but what is of most relevance, is that I can currently control the level of darkness that one’s eye can pierce in the room. To a certain degree, at least. It will help disorient our guest.”

“Oh, that’s a definite plus,” Alex said. “Trust me, though, she’s damned hard to disorient. It’s even harder to catch her off-guard. She’s obviously very old and experienced.”

“Indeed.” The chancellor tapped his hoof against the floor.

A wave of power billowed through the air, and a glowing summoning circle drew itself on the floor, emitting a dull, blood red radiance that illuminated all within a little less than a dozen feet of the circle.

“Would you say this circle is about the right width to contain our friend?” the chancellor asked.

“Ah, you might actually want it a little bigger,” the young Thameish wizard said. “She was really huge.”

“Fair enough.”

The circle widened. “Better?”

“Better.”

“Good. That war-spear looks quite suitable in Claygon’s hands, by the way. But, I think it might be best if I teleport it elsewhere. We don’t know if she’s able to sense its presence, or not,” the chancellor said.

Alex smacked his forehead. “Oh yeah, that makes sense. Should’ve thought of that.”

“Not to worry, you have much on your mind, to be sure.” Baelin crossed the room to Claygon who offered up the weapon. In a wave of teleportation magic, the ancient wizard disappeared and reappeared again. “There. It is in a safe location and I shall return it as soon as we finish our meeting. And speaking of safe locations…”

His eyes fixed Alex with a penetrating look. “I would like you and Claygon to move over there—” He pointed to a spot deep in shadow far from the circle. “—for the duration of the summoning. A comfortable chair is there for you within a circle of magic that will obscure your appearance, voice and even your scent. Things will be simpler if this demon does not grasp our association quite yet.”

“Oh, you’ll get no argument from me.” Alex quickly made his way to the chair without tripping over anything and took a seat in the darkness. Baelin was right, it was comfortable.

“I really don’t need her having any reason to focus on, or even think about me. Next time we meet her, I don’t think she’ll be in the toying mood. …did you happen to find out anything about her? I couldn’t exactly get information about greater demons from the library’s third floor.”

“Ah, yes, I suppose you would no—Third floor you say? Well look at you, did you have a breakthrough while I wasn’t paying attention?” Baelin asked as he inspected the symbols around the summoning circle.

“Uh, yeah, today, actually. Professor Mangal gave me permission to advance, along with a spell guide to summon a Lantern Celestial, and I got the spell in no time.”

“Well, congratulations! And here you are celebrating it with an old man and a demon that wants your head! A little unorthodox, don’t you think?” The chancellor paused at one of the symbols. It shifted, bending to his will and adjusting itself.

“It’s not my first choice, I have to admit. The celebrating it with you part isn’t the problem, it’s the other part.” Alex settled in the chair with Claygon behind him, and took in the muted glow of silver symbols around it. There were glyphs for shifting light and sound, and arcane markings that conjured a protective shield in case Zonon-In surprised them and attacked him, but most of the other symbols held no meaning for him. “But, enh, at least it’s interesting.”

“Indeed, it is! And speaking of interesting…here’s a bit of information for you. I learned that there have been at least three thousand demons known as Zonon-In mentioned throughout history.” Baelin asked.

Alex whistled. “Three thousand?”

“Well, that’s been the case. As it happens, it is not the most uncommon name demons have taken on when choosing one that is pronounceable by mortal tongues. And that, my young friend, tells us something. Now, any idea of what that could be?”

Alex’s brow furrowed. “Well, despite her arrogance, she picked a name for herself that would make her harder to research. It means she’s confident, but somewhat cautious, so she doesn’t let the need for reputation cause her to give major advantages to anyone.”

“Indeed, that would be my guess too, though she did toy with you in the swamp,” Baelin said. “Any thoughts on how to reconcile this seeming caution with her overconfidence?”

“Well, she said that we were like cats,” Alex reasoned. “She had us right in front of her, and could take our measure. As much as she talked about mortals having ‘little lives’, she did start hitting us hard once we’d really wounded her. My guess is, she’s smart enough not to reveal vulnerable information where powerful entities could use it against her.”

He tapped the armrest on the chair. “Now, having a common name wouldn’t keep her from being summoned—since she answers to the name—but it would make it more difficult to research her in general.”

“Indeed, those are my thoughts as well,” Baelin gave a sly laugh. “Unfortunately for her, I was able to cross-reference accounts of demons named Zonon-In with the powers displayed by your enemy and learned that she is old. Older than myself, most likely, though probably not as old as our very able registrar, Hobb. Accounts of the violence she’s wreaked leaves no doubt she is powerful in the ways of chaos, and her magic can reduce a mortal form to something of a gibbering, ever shifting, mass of flesh. Yet, despite this devastating ability, she actually favours melee combat, most likely out of a desire for greater sport.”

Baelin paused, and light appeared in his eyes. They moved back and forth as though they were scanning scrolls or books that were visible only to him. “However, when faced with a powerful opponent, accounts of her blending magic with her skill in combat, or even retreating when overmatched, can be found. Which tells me that I will not be able to rely on overconfidence from her. The fact that I have the power to call her will set her on guard.”

“No doubt,” Alex said. “I’m glad you learned what you did about her, because meeting her cold like we did in the Skull Pits, wasn’t the best position to be in.”

“Indeed, you are learning,” the chancellor turned back to the circle. “Now, you might be wondering why I covered all of this if all I intend is to summon, curse, and learn a little more about her. You see, I believe we can get more out of this meeting than that, so my plan is for you to be able to question her from your shrouded position. Now, keep in mind what we just discussed, phrase your questions accordingly, and be careful not to let your identity slip.”

The ancient wizard spread his hands over the circle. Red light flared, making him look positively demonic as he towered over it. “She might recognise the connection between us, but there is no reason to offer up that information if we do not have to. After all, she did make a number of enemies recently.”

“Got it,” Alex said, focusing the Mark on the task of disguising his voice. It flooded him with images of people in conversation, focusing on the depth of their voices, the differences between their diction and his, and speed of phrasing.

The young wizard cleared his throat and tried a few voices before settling on one he felt was far enough from his own.

“This one should do the trick,” he said.

“Are you ready?”

“Ready.”

“Then here we go.”

Words of power filled the room with their haunting notes. A wave of summoning magic spiralled through the air in a vortex, swirling around the blood-red circle of power. White-knuckled and straight backed, Alex gripped the armrests of the chair concealed from the demon’s view.

The atmosphere turned from calm to tense; power built, swelling, climbing in accord with a growing presence. A presence both familiar and foul. A thousand whispering voices chanted a thousand names. The air within the summoning circle shimmered, heralding the coming of scores of thickened feelers that erupted from the tiles—like a kraken’s limbs reaching from the sea—and writhed through the air. Fierce blows whipped the sides of the circle, seeking freedom—and only when futility was accepted as fate, did the demon join its appendages together in a great knot of pulsating flesh.

It heaved and trembled, melting into a primaeval soup that rose and fell like erupting lava, evolving into the greater demon—Zonon-In. Lower arms—covered in chitin—and ending in pincers big enough to snip Baelin in two. Articulated legs, upper arms and a thick torso were crowned by a massive head with a face that could curdle the blood of the faint of heart.

She stood within the summoning circle in the darkness of Baelin’s office in full and towering glory. The wounds she’d received were gone: the terrible one that Claygon had dealt her, and the dozens of cuts from Cedric and Theresa’s blades were now erased, like they never were.

Even the hand that Hart had severed had grown back.

And yet…

She seemed diminished.

Her presence had lessened; the aura of power that she once radiated was reduced. Her gaze was dull, and her movements slower. She was far from lean, and her bulk would still intimidate, but she looked weakened.

‘Her flesh might have recovered, but her life essence needs more time to completely regenerate,’ Alex thought.

“Who dares summon me?” Zonon-In demanded, her voice like ice as her mouth-tentacles writhed like whips. Her pincers snapped like bone cracking. “I caution you, this ancient power you call upon is not for the weak, so understand, if you are toying with me, there will not be a second time.”

She paused, her yellow eyes slowly focusing on the chancellor in the darkness. “Ah. I believe I know you. Are you the horned wizard who drove my master from this world?”

“I am the same, indeed,” Baelin said, his voice as smooth as melting butter.

“Ah…well, that is a notable feat,” the demon said.

Alex smirked.

‘That’s right, you’re dealing with a big boy now,’ he thought. ‘No catching us off-guard!’

“Would you also happen to be the same horned wizard who has been asking after one Hannar-Cim?”

Alex’s heart skipped. ‘Okay, maybe you can catch me off-guard.’