Chapter 49: Preparations for Battle

As Lucarion, I sat at the long table, back straight and hands folded in my lap, while Magnavex’s imp arranged my meal in front of me. He had brought less than usual after Ezkyrath told him Raven’s instructions. There was bread, cooked vegetables, and a thin soup that smelled better than it looked.

“Will there be anything else, my lord?” Sebastian asked.

I looked over the table, then at Flicker sitting next to me, his tail wagging happily.

“Bring me another bowl for Flicker,” I demanded, as lords did not ask.

Sebastian looked at the barghest pup, then at me.

“Yes, my lord.”

He bowed and left.

Ezkyrath waited until the door closed behind him before changing back to her relaxed form. Her face had grown more defined again. A small nose now rose from what had once been a smooth slope, and faint ridges had formed beneath her eyes, as though she was becoming more certain of what she wanted to look like as time went by.

“You will need a servant of your own,” Ezkyrath said pointedly.

I looked toward the door the imp had disappeared through.

“I know we already talked about that, but I’m not sure.” I grabbed a piece of bread and dipped it in the soup.

“Do not dip your bread into the soup, my lord. Tear off a piece and eat it separately,” Ezkyrath said in her teaching voice. “The soup is to be eaten with a spoon.”

I put the bread back onto its plate, dripping wet.

Back straight, elbows tucked, expression amicable but not friendly. I repeated it in my head as I reached for the larger spoon. Apparently, the large spoon was for soup. You couldn’t just use any spoon you wanted. That would be anarchy.

I grabbed the spoon and had to restrain myself from simply drinking the soup. Rest the handle against the edge of the bowl without letting it clink. Tilt the other end down into the soup. Tilt it back up. Raise it to your lips.

One spoonful, then I had to do it again.

“You told me you wanted free of Magnavex’s control,” Ezkyrath continued with an approving nod. “The best way to do that without a confrontation is to have her submit to your authority. Taking Sebastian from her would solve exactly that.”

“But does it have to be him?” It felt wrong to take him away from Magnavex. Besides, I wasn’t quite all that sure I liked him. He was the first demon I ever saw, so I still felt a bit afraid whenever he appeared, though I now knew he wouldn’t hurt me.

I rested the spoon against the edge of the bowl without letting it clink, tilted it into the soup, then back out before raising it to my lips. Besides, he looked quite pathetic with his ill-fitting pinstripe suit, shrunken trousers, and cracked stone wings. Not at all like Flicker, Raven, and Ezkyrath. I expected more from my summons.

“You cannot continue borrowing servants from the council whenever you require food, clothing, or assistance. It gives the impression that you remain dependent upon those beneath you.” She put both elbows on the table and leaned in. “Besides, why shouldn’t the Demon Lord have the best servant available to him?”

That was difficult to argue with. But I didn’t have to, as the door creaked open.

Ezkyrath quickly shifted to her less defined form and went quiet again as the imp walked into the room. He placed a bowl on the table.

“That will be all.” I used my best dismissive voice.

As soon as he was out of the room, Ezkyrath shifted back. I couldn’t help but notice her chest was a bit more pronounced compared to how flat she had been earlier.

I stared at my soup.

“My lord,” she started.

“That is enough, Ezkyrath,” I told her, frustration seeping into my voice. “I need to focus on the fight ahead, not all these dumb rules. Raven said I should rest before the fight. We shall discuss this another time.”

“But, my lord, this is...” she continued.

“Enough, Ezkyrath!” I said firmly.

She leaned back in her chair, her face shifting rapidly: surprised, worried, then featureless.

I poured some soup and vegetables into the bowl and set it next to me for Flicker. I used more force than necessary, and some spilled on the floor.

Flicker didn’t care. He just lapped it up, his tail happily wagging.

I picked up another piece of bread and dipped it in my own bowl.

Through Olive, I crossed the village square on my way back to the church. The young guttervine remained wrapped around my wrist.

I had tried explaining the difference between danger and growling three times. I did not know whether it understood me. It had not shot anything else, but nothing else had growled at me either.

The seed had landed beside the road, somewhere near the table where I had first tried to move the Grubbear. As I walked past the spot, I stopped.

A small tangle of vines had grown through the dirt beside the road. They were barely larger than my hand. Thin green stems twisted around one another, with several little leaves pressing through the gaps. The dirt around them was cracked where they had pushed upward.

I crouched.

“That was fast.” I leaned closer. The seed had only been lying there for a few hours. There had been nothing when it landed. I was sure of that.

I extended my finger. The small vines closed around it. I jerked my hand back. They held on.

“Oh.”

I stopped pulling. The vines were not hurting me. They had only wrapped around my finger, tightening enough to keep contact. They felt young and soft, nothing like the thick vines that had dragged me beneath the river.

The Guttervine around my wrist reached toward them. The smaller vines shifted in response, letting me go.

I touched one with my other hand. Another stem curled around that finger too. They gripped anything that came close. Not enough to hold anything.

Not like this.

But they had grown without my help. I looked down at my hands.

I thought about the Guttervine in the river, how it had dragged me under. About the bush beside the general store. I had made it grow around Sir Loren. Branches had closed around his limbs before he could stop them. It had not been a spell made for fighting. I had only needed the plant to become larger, and it had done the rest.

I didn’t know if I was thinking this way because Lucarion was about to fight, but the Guttervine could shoot a seed. The seed could grow into something that grabbed whatever touched it.

And I was very good at making plants grow.

A picture formed in my mind. Someone rushing toward me. The Guttervine snapping forward from my wrist. A seed striking the ground beneath their feet. My spell reaching into it. Vines surging upward before they could move away, winding around their legs, their waist, their arms.

I smiled.

The smaller vines tightened around my finger, much harder this time. I felt them cut off the blood flow.

“Hey! Release me.”

The Guttervine on my wrist extended toward them again. They loosened.

I gently unwound the little stems from my fingers.

They held tighter than I had thought. It might be dangerous to use them on a person unless... the Guttervine seemed able to control them, at least to some degree. If I could get them to hold without squeezing the life out of someone, that might work.

At the very least, I needed it to not grab hold of me when I got near.

This needs testing.

Lucarion was also planning for the fight ahead, and that had to take precedence. Which was why I was currently examining the cutlery.

The table had been set with a variety of cutlery.

I picked up the larger dinner fork.

Everything I had.

Raven had not said everything in the room. He had said everything I had.

I slid the fork into the folds of my clothes near my waist. It immediately poked me. After several attempts, I found a way to keep the fork hidden without poking myself.

I thought about lifting the bowl to my lips to drink the last bit, just because Ezkyrath had told me not to. But after spending some time as Olive with the Guttervine, I wasn’t as angry anymore.

Ezkyrath had been silent since I reprimanded her. I didn’t mind silence, at least not in the forest, but here it felt uncomfortable. I had summoned her to teach me how to be the Demon Lord. Getting angry at her for doing exactly that felt a little unfair.

I left the bowl where it was.

“What would we have to do,” I asked her as I grabbed the knife, “to make a contract with the imp?”

“You would request that Magnavex release Sebastian from her contract,” she said quickly.

I frowned.

“You want me to take the imp from her?”

“No,” Ezkyrath said. “Sebastian is capable of accepting or refusing your terms once offered. Magnavex cannot transfer his agreement to you as though he were furniture.”

Does he feel like furniture? Am I doing something wrong?

“Offer?” I looked at the knife. Definitely useful.

“Sebastian must agree.”

“What if he says no?”

“Then you will find another servant.”

I can just get a contract with someone else? Of course I can! Why... why does she want the imp so badly?

“Then this whole thing with Magnavex will have been pointless.”

“No. You will still have required her to respond to your request.”

I leaned back in the chair.

“So even if I don’t get Sebastian, you still want me to ask.”

“Yes. Asking her to do so reminds her that her position exists beneath yours.”

“She already knows I’m the Demon Lord and seems to really care about the title,” I argued.

“Knowing a title and respecting its authority are not the same.”

Ezkyrath leaned back slightly.

“A ruler cannot rely upon ceremonies alone. Authority is established through smaller matters. Who waits for whom. Who asks permission. Who yields when both parties desire the same resource.”

“The imp.”

“In this instance.” Her voice was controlled.

“What if she says no?”

Ezkyrath frowned for a fraction of a second.

“Then you have an excuse to favor others.”

“So I ask Magnavex to release him without knowing whether he wants me to contract him.”

She nodded. “You require a servant. One of your councilors possesses a servant suited to that role. You request that she release him for your use, and she complies.”

I took the second fork. Ezkyrath watched it disappear into my clothes beside the first.

“Doesn’t that mean Magnavex might just lose a servant without me gaining anything?”

“It’s a possibility.”

There it was. A hint of a smile.

“Thank you, Ezkyrath. You have given me a lot to think about,” I said, getting up from my chair. “I must now prepare for the battle.”

I walked out of the room without giving her a chance to respond, Flicker following at my heels.

Olive had returned to the attic with a handful of fruits and some leftover pastries from last night.

The attic was empty. Olivander was helping clean the decorations from the general store’s roof. The knights had left their things spread across most of the church, but none of them had any reason to climb up here.

I closed the attic hatch behind me. The room still smelled faintly of smoke from the Emberwings. Morning light shone through the skylight, illuminating dust and a few crumbs Olivander had somehow gotten into his blankets.

I sat on the bed.

Lucarion was walking toward the Lord’s room.

Our stomachs tightened.

Olive’s from hunger.

Lucarion’s from nerves.

I touched both at once, one hand pressing against the tunic over Olive’s stomach while Lucarion adjusted the hidden knife beneath his clothes. The Guttervine curled around my wrist.

I pulled the blanket over my legs. The attic was quiet. The hatch was closed. There was nothing nearby that could hurt me if I stopped paying attention.

I had practiced withdrawing from Olive several times during Raven’s demonstrations. Until now, I had not called the ability anything. That had started becoming inconvenient.

Everything had names. Spells had names. Stances had names too.

I had considered calling it Double Thinking, but I was not thinking twice. I was taking the part of my awareness normally used for Olive and focusing all of it through Lucarion.

Focused Thoughts.

That was what it was.

I had used Focused Thoughts against Sir Loren without understanding it. Now I was going to use it deliberately.

I settled Olive’s head against the backrest. The bed supported her back. With a plate on her lap, she began to eat. The Guttervine rested against her wrist.

Through Lucarion, I reached the Lord’s room, my room.

Raven was waiting.