It didn’t take long for the old wizard to bustle back into his office and research room. He had a massive leather-bound volume, with thick, glowing iron bars holding the book closed. It had an intricate lock on the front that the bars connected to. Eric slammed it down on a table. He left it there as he grabbed a ring of keys from his desk and an unlit candle. He placed the candle next to the book and lit it. The light from the white candle illuminated the room, somehow erasing every possible shadow, even from under the table the candle rested on. I shuddered at the unnerving sight.

  Eric grinned. “Can’t be too careful when reading books about demons. Those sneaky fuckers can use the shadows, you know. Wouldn’t want them knowing what we are doing!” the old Wizard exclaimed. He flipped through the keys until he came to the right one and inserted it into the lock. When he turned the key in the lock, all the bars retracted into the lock itself, which he set next to the candle. The book shuddered physically in the light. Eric put on some odd gloves, covered in glass or diamonds, and opened the shuddering volume.

  He muttered to himself as he checked page after page, making sure not to touch them with anything other than the gloves. “Where is it, where is it…” The shadow-banishing light was making me queasy, and I could see that I was not the only one. Finally, he straightened up, pressing his gloved knuckles into the small of his back. “Ah! I knew I’d seen those symbols somewhere. Why didn’t I ever think to check this?” Eric said drolly.

  Juan peered at the book. “What the hell is that book, Eric? That’s definitely not something I’d like to like to read before bed,” he muttered.

  There was a clear lack of humor in Eric’s responding chuckle, which made me even more uneasy. “You wouldn’t survive very long if you did that, my friend. The Lords of Hell want this book back. This is the only surviving copy of the iniquitous compendium of all the demon lords and their minions,” the Wizard replied. He gestured at the book dramatically. “The Daemonium, if you will. None of those infernal bastards want this information out in this world. This copy was sealed by a priestess of Eleras, the god of light and smithing. The seal was made with the blessing of Eleras and hides the book as long as it remains sealed. This candle is also the work of Eleras through her priestesses and is the only way I can open this book without demons popping into my workshop.”

  With my stomach churning, I spoke up to get this over with. “What did you find, Eric? What symbols?”

  The old Wizard turned to me, his face serious. “I found out that not only is the corruption the work of demons, but I know which demon is doing it!” He pointed to the page. “The symbols we saw in the readings of the corrupted mages are a part of their magic, specific to each demon. A signature, if you will. Vexarith is a minor demon, not really part of the usual hierarchy. Sort of a fixer for the demon lords, yet independent of all of them other than the King of Hell. This single demon is, not surprisingly, one of the most commonly seen here in this world, and much of the work of other demons and demon lords is attributed to them.”

  Harper threw up her hands. “Oh. Well, that’s just great. A celebrity demon is going to come after New Guy,” she said. She looked back at the book with interest, seeming completely unaware her hand was reaching out for it. “I guess we should feel lucky. Whelp, sorry, New Guy, looks like you’re going to be screwed by the Hollywood of demons…. Ow!” she cried out as Eric slapped her hand away from the Deamonium. “Why’d you do that for?” she shouted angrily, holding her hand close to her chest.

  Eric glared at Harper. “You’re a half-demon. Didn’t you notice yourself going for the book?” he yelled back.

  Harper took several steps back from the table, horrified. “No!”

  “If you had touched it, you and the book would have teleported to hell. You would have been celebrated and elevated for the accomplishment. The next time we saw you… Let’s just say you wouldn’t be our friend anymore,” Eric replied in more of a conciliatory voice.

  He closed the book and placed the lock upon it, re-sealing it with a twist of the key. With that, he took off the gloves and extinguished the candle with a muttered word and a flick of his fingers. The return to the normal light was a relief. Harper looked like she was going to empty her stomach, the horror still haunting her eyes. I put my hand on her arm, causing her to flinch away before she noticed it was only me.

  “Are you okay?” I whispered.

  She shook her head. “I—I didn’t know. I just thought… Being a cambion sounded cool, you know? How was I to know that being a half-demon would change me so much? Or make me want to do something like that. I’m sorry,” she whispered. Her face paled with dismay at what she had almost done.

  I gave her arm a squeeze, and what I hoped was a sympathetic look. “But you didn’t. If you really wanted to, would that old wizard have been able to stop you? Besides, you’ll never be in such a position again,” I said earnestly. She looked both thoughtful and somewhat relieved. “Besides, now we are possible monsters together! Monster buddies!” She pushed me away, laughing.

  “Gods, that’s dumb!” she replied. “Thank you, Finn. I needed that.”

  Eric shooed us out of his office/workshop soon after that. “Tomorrow! I should have something useful tomorrow. I’ll send for you!” he yelled excitedly.

  The guard captain, still eyeing me with suspicion, had our horses saddled and brought to us. Juan led us to an inn nearby, promising to cover me, as it was expensive. It was a nice place, with actual tables and chairs instead of those long tables with the benches. Everything was polished and so clean. I almost felt guilty when I sat down on a padded chair, making it and everything else I touched dirtier. I was relieved when the owner didn’t say anything about our collective state of disarray, apparently recognizing Juan.

  And there was a menu! An actual printed menu. Nothing was familiar term-wise, but Harper helped me pick out a meal. I, of course, got a side of steamed Glot Root. I wondered if the tuber would make good fries and whether anyone else in this world had thought about the possibility. A waitress brought our meal out, with a fresh salad of greens I didn’t recognize, followed by a small bowl of a creamy soup.

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  “This is all so much like a nice restaurant at home,” I said.

  “Yes. The owner’s abuelo was Earthborn," Juan replied. "It’s just another example of what happens when people from our world settle down here. We bring something of home to life, changing the way things are so we have just that bit of comfort. We either die here or retire. Eric and Elana, for example, fell in love, married and settled down. Very few of my friends over the years have survived. But Eric and Elana are integrated, so their descendants will probably never know what it is like to drive a car or go to the movies. To fly in an airplane, to play computer games, or to watch a football game taking place in another country,” Juan said wistfully.

  There was a melancholy look on his face, a sadness of substantial loss. I expected him to continue talking, but then our main courses were brought out. I had what was obviously a steak, though not actually beef. There were no cows here, but they had goats, sheep, and something akin to bison, only smaller. It was delicious. The wine Juan had chosen for the table was dark and subtle. I wasn’t that experienced with wine tasting, more of an IPA guy, but it went well with the steak.

  “Careful, old man. You’re going to stain your mustache!” Harper teased the old man. “You know, I could shave it off for you. That way it won’t keep getting in your wine.”

  He wiped the wine out of his mustache with a cloth napkin and glared at the rogue. “You shouldn’t threaten a man’s facial hair, mocosa. You keep those knives put away before I take them again!” he growled.

  Harper laughed, and I realized that though the two weren’t related, their relationship was that of father and daughter. Her teasing was good natured and his outrage feigned. This was just what they did. It made me smile and miss my dad at the same time. A relationship I would never have again.

  We did not discuss what happened to Harper during dinner by unspoken agreement. Despite that, I was worried about her, though.

  Heck, I was worried about myself. There was a demon out there that was going to corrupt me. Make me a power-hungry tyrant, using my magic to enslave and oppress. And with the rush that I already felt whenever I cast, it wasn’t that hard to believe. Anyone who chose Mage would be primed to want it. This magic was a drug, one that I wanted—no, I needed—to experience more and more. I shuddered at the thought of the future awaiting me, even if the demon never contacted me. Unless that old wizard could figure it out, I would be hard pressed not to seek any excuse to cast my spells.

  They put us in a suite of rooms, with four bedrooms connected by a common area. Three of the bedrooms were open to us, and there were tubs of hot water waiting in each. I had hoped that this place would have showers, but the plumbing required for modern showers didn’t seem to exist. Yet who was I to say no to a bath when I felt like the sweaty insides of a vacuum cleaner?

  I was still soaking in the tub when there was a knock on my door. “Hey Finn, are you decent? Can we talk?” Harper asked, opening my door without waiting for an answer.

  “Wait! I’m still in the tub!” I cried out. I awkwardly tried to cover up as the door continued to open. Harper stopped opening the door before it swung the rest of the way.

  “Well, hurry up. I have a bottle of wine that I need help with,” she said with a giggle. The opened bottle and a couple of cups appeared around the door as she tilted them back and forth. “Juan’s already asleep, probably because of these beds. They’re super soft.”

  “Alright, I’ll meet you out there in a few minutes.” I replied. She laughed and closed the door. I stood up in the tub, dripping onto the floor while I grabbed the provided towel. I quickly dried off and got dressed.

  Harper was sitting in one of the comfy chairs when I entered the common area, tipping her cup this way and that. She was already drunk, and likely unsettled from the day’s events. I sat down in the one across from her, and she handed me a cup, half full.

  “What’s up, Harper?” I asked as I sipped my wine.

  “This has been a really fucked-up day,” she replied.

  “Yeah, it has. That whole thing with the book is still messing with my head,” I replied laconically.

  “Thanks for not bringing it up during dinner. It was nice not to have to think about that. But now…” She tossed back her cup. “Now there’s nothing to distract from it. I need to talk about it. Or fuck it out.” She looked at me with hooded eyes.

  “Harper. I need to talk about it, too,” I replied. I could tell she wasn't thinking straight. And I was a little drunk, too, but thoughts of Arilyn filled my mind. Plus, Harper and I were quickly becoming friends, and I didn’t want to mess that up. I knew I needed to nip this in the bud. “And even if we had sex, the problems would still be there.” Did I imagine the disappointment I saw in her eyes then? Did it matter?

  “Okay, Finn, you’re right. You know, I just passed my 42th birthday a few months ago. Not that I look it, being half-elf, half-demonic-horror. Isn’t that weird? I still look mostly like I did when I was 18.”

  I hadn’t known that. It explained some of the slang she had used. Before I thought she was around my age and hung out more with adults than kids her own age, only she really was an adult well before me. “It’s cool, I guess. You won’t need any of that stuff injected into your forehead. Botox, I think?” I joked.

  “Heh, yeah. All those fake bitches from high school probably need all kinds of lipo and boob lifts now,” she replied smugly and gesturing at her breasts. Harper poured herself more wine and took a big sip. “It’s not all rainbows and puppies, looking like this in this world. People didn’t treat me well for a while. Got stuff thrown at me, chased out of towns, and it hurt. A lot. Just because of the way I look. Just like at home. It didn’t matter that my family lived in the nicer neighborhood or that my parents drove nice cars. Just because I wasn’t white, I wasn’t good enough.”

  She noticed my raised eyebrows and chuckled, “You didn’t know, did you? Because I sound white, right?” Her smile was sad then, like she was being disappointed by yet another person.

  “I didn’t know because you never told me," I countered. "It doesn’t change the fact that I feel like we’re friends and we went through some shit today that was really messed up. Whether or not you were white doesn’t change how I think about you. It just means there’s a lot about you I don’t know. Just like you don’t know a lot about me." Her smile brightened, and I returned it.

  She took a deep breath and let it out. “Sorry. Guess I’m drunk! But it… it is related. I’m not human anymore. I didn’t know how far from human I was. And it never hit me until today.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “It’s kind of funny. I’ve never run into demons before, or anything connected to them. And today, that light—and that book. It was fascinating, even before Eric opened it. As soon as the seal went poof, I needed to see it, pick it up. I needed to feel it in my hands. Didn’t realize how dangerous it was for me to even touch it.” She shuddered and drained her cup again before refilling it.

  “You were unprepared for it,” I said. “There was no way for you to know. Like a toddler pulling a cat’s tail, not prepared for kitty to scratch them.”

  “Something like that. Yeah. But with demons. They’re going to fuck us both up, Finn!” she threw her head back dramatically and groaned. She looked at me sadly and drank down her cup again. She picked up the bottle and was surprised to find it empty. Before I could react, Harper reached over and grabbed my cup, downing it as well. “Take me to bed, Finn,” she said. At my initial reaction she shook her head. “No. I mean, my bed. Help me to my bed. Please?” she asked.

  I laughed at her consternation. I stood up and held a hand out to her. “Alright, come on, let’s get you up,” I said.

  We staggered to her room, and I helped her into her bed. She was snoring before her head hit the pillow. I covered her up and left her room quieter than we had entered. When I lay down in my bed, thoughts of Arilyn kept me awake for a long time.