6.13
“Where’s Austin?” Otter asks immediately, hopping down off the table and getting as close to the circle as he dares.
The demon looks almost taken aback, their eyes widening, the smile slowly vanishing from their face. They take a few steps backwards from the circle, looking from Otter to Landis to Walker, eyebrows furrowed. Or brow furrowed, rather - Landis notes with curiosity that the demon doesn’t actually seem to have eyebrows.
“You know Austin?” the demon asks.
Otter freezes. “You know Austin?”
“Well, barely.” The demon sighs, turning in a full circle, taking in their surroundings. “Could I get a chair, please?”
“We don’t negotiate with demons,” Walker says, idly picking at his teeth with his pinky nail. Otter shoots him a glare.
“We need his help, right? So get him a goddamn chair.”
“They,” the demon says, their voice careful and polite, “not he.”
“Okay, get them a goddamn chair,” Otter says exasperatedly.
“Whatever,” Walker says under his breath. He waves a hand and a chair flies in from the hallway, hovering over the salt circle and landing haphazardly on its side next to the demon. While the demon bends over to right the chair, Landis finally busies himself, stepping over to the sink to fill a glass with water. It’s so cold that it hurts his teeth, but he forces himself to drink it, trying to steady his shaking fingers around the glass as he listens to Otter interrogate the demon.
“What’s your name?”
“Abyss.”
“How do you know Austin?”
“I met him last night, at a party in my friend Naberius’s estate.”
“Bullshit,” Walker interjects. “Austin’s only been gone a couple of hours.”
“Time in Hell moves faster than time in the mortal realm,” Abyss says slowly, like they’re addressing a small child. Landis snorts, and their gaze flicks towards them, then settles on the glass of water in his hands. They swallow, causing the strange, gill-like growths on their neck to flutter.
Landis looks down at the water as well, and then up at Abyss. “Do you want some?”
“If it isn’t any trouble,” Abyss says.
Landis shakes his head ever so slightly, and takes another glass out of the cabinet above the sink. He fills it up in the sink, chewing the inside of his cheek as he thinks. There’s no way Walker could move this into there without it spilling everywhere, and maybe ruining the salt. Shit. Hopefully Abyss isn’t just playing nice until one of us fucks up, or I’ll be dead in a few seconds.
He takes the full glass and cautiously holds it out to Abyss, his hand just barely inside of the Circle. Abyss’s eyes widen, and Landis feels Otter squeeze his shoulder - in warning or in accord, he isn’t sure - but he doesn’t move. Slowly, like a feral cat who might spook at any moment, Abyss stands from their chair and draws closer to Landis. They take the glass from his hands, holding it in both of theirs, and begin to laugh.
“You’re a brave bunch of humans,” they say, finally. “I suppose you’re the group involved in Crocell’s death.”
“Crocell?” Otter and Walker ask, overlapping one another.
“The lake,” Landis says quietly. Otter and Walker share a look with him, then with each other, as though making sure they’re all on the same page now.
“That’s not important,” Otter says, looking defiantly at Abyss. “We want to know if Austin’s okay.”
Abyss laughs again. They return to their chair before answering, holding the glass of water on their lap. “Oh, yes. He’s actually doing quite well, under the circumstances.”
He’s okay. Landis’s body deflates with relief. He sinks back against the kitchen counter, brushing stray locks of hair out of his face, feeling suddenly several pounds lighter than before. Austin’s okay. All we need to do is go and get him, probably. I mean, I guess we’ll have to negotiate with Naberius, but -
“What circumstances?” Walker asks.
“Ah,” Abyss says, in a way that can only mean bad news, and Landis snaps instantly back to reality. “Well, as part of his contract with Naberius, Austin is bound to act as Naberius’s champion.”
Champion? Landis’s stomach flips over. He clutches the counter with both hands, pressing the skin of his palms into the smooth stone, trying to ground himself within the kitchen. He can’t afford to keep panicking, keep letting his mind fly to places outside of himself. Not now.
“So what does a champion do, exactly?” Walker asks.
“Well, demons use them to settle disputes with one another,” Abyss says, sounding yet again as though they’re explaining something everyone should already know. “When two high class demons have an argument or conflict of interest, one of those demons issues a challenge to the other, and their champions fight to the death.”
The silence in the kitchen is deafening. Otter looks white as a sheet, and staggers backwards a few steps, into the fridge. Walker - who had already half-opened his mouth, presumably to deliver a witty retort - lets out a strangled, choking noise. Bile rises in Landis’s throat, and he breathes hard through his nose, refusing to let his body vomit. He grabs the countertop harder, his fingers stinging with the effort.
“But Austin doesn’t have to do that now, right?” a voice asks - Landis realizes belatedly that it’s his voice. He stares hard at Abyss, who crosses one leg over the other, and takes a long sip of water before answering.
“Austin is scheduled to duel another demon’s champion in two days.”
Otter puts a hand over his mouth and turns away, looking towards the living room. Landis feels winded, like he’s been punched hard in the stomach. He gasps for breath, tries to string words together in his mind, and opens his mouth to attempt a second question. He doesn’t get the chance to. The glass in Abyss’s hands abruptly shatters, showering glass and water all over the inside of the summoning circle.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Walker asks, his voice raising rapidly into a shout. “You could have lead with the fact that Austin’s about to fight someone to the death, you absolute fucker!”
The lights in the kitchen begin to flicker. Walker advances on the circle, his hair lifting and floating around his head as though enveloped by its own private breeze.
“Walker,” Landis says warningly.
“Don’t,” Walker snaps, wheeling around, “‘Walker’ me.”
The light above the sink pops. Landis yelps and launches himself forwards, skidding on the kitchen tile and pitching forwards into the summoning circle.
Well, he thinks, feeling the toe of his shoe drag through the line of salt, guess I’m getting killed by a demon, anyway. At least I’ll see Austin in Hell.
“Landis!” Otter yells, from somewhere far away, as the floor rushes up to meet Landis’s face. Just before it does, though, Landis feels a pair of hands catch him under the armpits and yank him upright.
“I apologize,” Abyss says, brusquely setting Landis’s hair and shirt back in order. “If I had known you all cared so much about Austin, the duel to the death bit certainly would have been the first thing I brought up.” They take a step back from Landis, and return to their chair. “You’ll have to excuse me. I’m still a bit exhausted from the party, and haven’t quite gotten my head on straight yet. It’s early morning in Hell, you know.”
“Can you take us to Austin?” Landis asks, a little dazed.
Abyss opens their mouth, but Walker cuts them off.
“We’re not making a contract with them, Landis. Absolutely fucking not. That’s how one of us ends up suckered into fighting to the death like -”
“Actually, if I may,” Abyss says, “I think I have an idea that should prove mutually beneficial on all sides.”
“Not a contract,” Otter says, firmly. Landis looks to him to find him significantly less pale, his jaw set in a particular, stubborn way.
“No, not a contract,” Abyss agrees. “More of a gentleman’s agreement.”
Landis swallows, not certain he wants to know what they’re about to agree to, but willing to ask. For Austin’s sake.
“What’s the agreement?” he asks.
“You tell me all about how you managed to kill Crocell,” Abyss says, smiling with teeth this time, “and I take you to see Austin. Do we have a deal?”