Lily led Lawrence down one of the rocky, worn paths. He kept looking at her sashaying hips. This caused him to trip on the uneven ground. As he struggled, she explained the school allowed the horrible paths to exist as a test for prospective students. She led him down the side of mountain to a squat structure perched on a rocky outcropping like a bird of prey. Below the structure sat an important mountain pass, but travel was nonexistent this time of year.

She marched up to the gate without fear, putting one foot in front of the other so her hips tilted. Lawrence followed, eating the eye candy. A single demon stood guard, though more paced the battlements.

“Hey! YOU.” Lily waved.

The demon raised its head. A small creature, it stood a little higher than Lawrence’s knee. It had wings, two beady eyes, and a gray, hairless body. Lawrence looked a little lower and saw it had no genitals, just smooth skin. Fitting, for a genderless creature.

“What’sit doo ‘ere?” the imp asked. It brandished a sharp piece of metal. “Metink’s it emnee.”

“I am the opener working for Lord Winter. Tell your captain we wish to speak with him.”

“Whatsit want?” the imp repeated, stupid. It gave a shrill cry as Lily kicked it. “Aiiiieee.”

Lily marched past. She hammered on the gate.

“Open up,” she bellowed. “Open up. You lazy cuts. Open this door.”

The little imp screeched. It flapped its wings several times. It shot up into the air and dove at her head. Lily backhanded the creature, sending it sprawling.

“Wahhhh,” the imp wailed. “I’s bad. BAD.”

“Hey.” Lawrence nudged it with his foot. The demon stopped screaming. It swung its little piece of metal, too small to be a knife, too jagged to be a true weapon. The shard bounced off Lawrence’s boot. Lawrence did not flinch. “What’s your name?”

“I’s Guh-nat.” The demon squinted at him. “Wha’sit yoo?”

“It’s nice to meet you, Gnat.” Lawrence lied. He tried to smile. The demon squinted more.

Lawrence followed Lily inside. A six-foot-tall fiend met them in the next room. The one had an imp’s body type, but more gangly with bigger wings. It wore a simple leather jerkin and carried a spear.

“I am Captain Aggh.” The fiend leveled the spear. “Who are you and what do you want?”

“My name is Lily. I am a half-demon in service of Lord Winter. This is my associate, the faustian-in-training Lawrence. Lawrence?” Lily gestured for him to approach.

“Hey.” Lawrence jerked his chin.

“I’ll leave you to it.” She turned right around and left without another word. She had a spring in her step. The fiend and the imp watched her go. The imp chattered some vague insults.

“All right faustian-in-training, why are you here?”

“Well.” Lawrence turned his attention away from Lily’s no-longer-sashaying hips. “Um.”

“You have five seconds to tell me why I shouldn’t shell you now.”

“I thought faustians were given the full rights of demons.” Lawerence laughed at the fiend’s mistake. Even so, his hand strayed toward his pocket.

“The heir of Lord Winter said you were in training, not a full sorcerer. Full sorcerers can demonstrate mastery of the three basic rituals. If I give you the materials, I trust you can prove yourself?”

The door shut with an ominous thud behind Lawrence. He blinked. His expression froze. He became aware of many other fiends, imps, and other kinds of demon. All present, all watching, all weapons drawn. Lawrence ignored them all. He was Winter’s nephew. He was here to solve a problem. They couldn’t touch him, or they’d incur his wrath.

“D’you think I’d be here if I couldn’t?”

“We will begin with a summoning.” The fiend captain, what was his name again? Lawrence couldn’t remember. The fiend snapped an order. An imp flitted away. Lawrence waited for a long moment. His hand slipped inside his pocket. He spread his feet. The watching demons stirred.

The imp returned. Lawrence took the materials. He drew the strongest circle he knew. He decorated the perimeter with candles. He lit one with a match and used it to light the rest. He began his chant quietly. He did not dance.

He wavered when he got to the ‘gift’ part. Making a gift was something Weatherly or whomever it was had forgotten. Demons required a gift before being summoned. Not having one, well, summoning had nothing to do with protection. Remembering thus, Lawrence stopped the chant. He used a different color of chalk to draw the warding.

Off to the side, the fiend captain paced. He kept exhaling with impatience and shaking his head. It made Lawrence anxious. His heart hammered. His hands began shaking, forcing him to slow down or else make more mistakes.

“The standing there looking like that is not helping, dude.”

“Hurry up, then, human.”

“The more you look at me the slower I go.”

The demon did it more. Somehow, Lawrence finished the warding. His hands shook the entire time. He tried to ignore the fiend as he checked his work. He had one error. He fixed it. Summoning, warding, binding. He paused and looked at the door. Gnat stood outside. No grammar, low intelligence, tiny weapon, not even a real weapon anyway, undesirable posting… level one?

Lawrence started the chant again. He took out his knife and held it at arm’s length. His chant took a lot less time than the master’s.

“Gnat. Gnat. Gnat. I call upon thee. I offer my regards. Gnat. Gnat. Gnat.” At the height of the chant, a shadow appeared in the air. Six seconds later it became a gray humanoid. Six seconds passed, and the little imp Gnat stood in the center of the circle.

Gnat screamed. It threw itself toward Lawrence and smacked into a wall. The air shimmered but the barrier held. The imp launched itself at the opposite wall, but the barrier held. It raged for a long minute, even flying straight up. To its utter surprise, it rammed its face into the barrier’s ceiling.

“Peace, demon,” Lawrence intoned. “Peace.”

“Nuhhh,” the imp cried. “Leese meeee.”

“Kneel before me,” Lawrence intoned. He invoked the binding ritual. “Kneel.”

The imp resisted. Lawrence exerted his will. He may not have had a status screen or class, but he understood faustian sorcery as well as any. His trained will knocked the imp flat. Instead of kneeling, Gnat prostrated itself. Lawrence held the creature in place for a good minute. A strange feeling came over him.

Lawrence spent much of his life being bullied. Children were monsters. High schoolers were bigger monsters. The singular time upperclassmen had been nice to him was in a Life Skills class he’d taken as a freshman; all the seniors were graduating. Of course, once the bell rang, the switch flipped. He was ‘just a freshman’ again and they were too cool for him.

He felt the situation reversed. He used the most basic of bindings, but the imp was powerless to resist. Lawrence felt a strange sense of satisfaction. He reveled in it. It worked because the imp was a glorified monster. Give it half a chance and it would kill anyone it could to eat their soul. It was literally irredeemable. It was not much different from the talking hyenas in Lion King: a naturally-born chaotic evil monster Lawrence subjugated.

He felt powerful. Satisfaction. Respect. Strength. True, it was just an imp, but his will was the true measure of his strength. He turned his head. The fiend captain watched. Lawrence could probably bind him too. And it would work, because didn’t faustians need to bind several demons to prove themselves?

“Enough.” The captain stopped pacing. “Your power is proven. Release him.”

Lawrence relaxed. The imp slowly stood. It stopped whining. It looked at Lawrence with a different expression. Lawrence dismissed the barrier.

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“Faustian. Why are you here?”

“Lily didn’t say? She told me there was a problem with the shipment of food.”

“The school gets its food supplies through the Gluttonous. We have no part of this.” The captain shifted its weight.

“Yeah. I know. She said that. She also said—” Lawrence racked his brain. “Gah. What was it? Um.” He closed his eyes. “We are getting a shipment of food from Blood Well. We are getting a shipment from them and there is a problem.”

“She lied.” The fiend crossed its arms. “There is no shipment.”

“Are you lying to me?” Lawrence squinted.

“Why would I lie to you? Why, of all things, would I lie about human food? What would I stand to gain?”

“I dunno. The food?”

“We do not eat such things.” The fiend made a disgusted sound.

“Is there someone higher than you I can talk to?” Lawrence asked. “A supervisor? Maybe?”

The demon rolled its eyes. “You may speak to me. Hospitality has not been extended. Just because you are a faustian does not mean you are safe. You are the equal of a demon, not a lord.”

“I don’t understand.”

“The opener is a half-demon.”

“Yeah, and?”

“To be recognized as a lord, a demon must prove it has an heir. A half-demon. All lords have a fortress, a company, and an heir. The [opener] Lily was Lord Winter’s, until you came along. You are his nephew. You have a better claim to the position of heir than she. In addition, you are a full faustian, considered the equal of demons through skill and birth. She is demon only through birth. As long as you are here, you are a threat to her position.”

“You’re saying… she tried to have me killed?” Lawrence couldn’t wrap his mind around it. “But I don’t want to be someone’s heir. She brought me here to solve a problem that you guys had.”

“Faustians are not treated like demons until they master the three basic rituals. She thought you were like any other apprentice. Ignorant, untrained, easy to manipulate. Apprentices are not allowed to leave the Tower. She tried to eliminate you while keeping her hands clean.”

Lawrence gaped. Beautiful Lily? A backstabber? A liar? It did not compute. Lawrence realized the demon… probably had an agenda. Lawrence did not know all the facts. He’d let someone blindside him with niceness and he almost died. It wasn’t his fault; he did not know how to handle positive attention, especially when it came from girls. He stopped babbling.

“I am sorry for this misunderstanding,” he said.

“You should know, if hospitality is broken, then both parties may do to each other whatever they wish.” The fiend shifted his grip on his spear. All the watching demons stirred. “If I chose to break hospitality and attack you, you would most likely die.”

Lawrence swallowed. He looked around. His hand went to his pocket. There were too many demons present. He needed to leave, but the doors were closed. He did not know how to open them.

“Wait. You said you didn’t extend hospitality.” Lawrence’s fingers tightened on his hidden weapon.

“Correct.” The demon smiled. He casually leveled his spear. All the demons watching stirred.

Lawrence gulped. He loosened his gun in its pocket holster. At the same time, he concentrated. He pushed with his will. Electricity sparked in the air. The smell of ozone filled his nose. Lawrence lowered his chin. He started drawing.

“But I will not,” the captain lowered the tip of his weapon. “Instead, I will make you a rank-one servant of Blood Well. You will be protected from harm inside this fortress. If you take the brand, you will have access to the corporate Skills. Our corporation is a military. You must obey orders and defend the fortress when attacked.”

“What I don’t?” Lawrence’s grip tightened on the handgun in his pocket. “What if I want to be a mage and not a warrior.”

The demon chuckled. “We have faustian servants at other fortresses. In your case? If you accept, I’ll tell the commandant you were a sorcerer apprentice who proved himself to us to win a membership. If not, you will be shelled.”

Lawrence did not know what ‘shelled’ meant, but he recognized a euphemism for death when he heard it.

“I accept.”

“Excellent.” The demon gestured with its spear. “Follow me, subordinate. New members are entitled to three simple or martial weapons from the armory.”

Lawrence pushed his handgun back into its holster. He stopped trying to overwhelm the room with his will. He followed the fiend through the fortress. They went up several flights of stairs and through a maze of twisting, dark passages. Lawrence lost all sense of direction. Without the fiend he would have been lost and blind. Alone he thought for sure he’d be eaten or killed by a trap.

“This is the armory. Take anything you like from racks one and two. You can have up to three.”

Walls of weapons greeted him. Lawrence gaped at a collection of weapons even his father would like. The knowledge this was only a minor fortress tempered his awe.

“What about armor? Is it just weapons or do I get some armor?”

“You can if you have money to pay.” The captain shrugged. “Armor is expensive. Most rank-and-file die. Why should we outfit them?”

“If you give them armor, maybe fewer would die.”

“I was being rhetorical.” The fiend shoved Lawrence aside.

“HEY.”

“Keep moving. I have work to do.” The fiend picked up a small pouch the size of Lawrence’s palm. He counted a handful of coins. He dropped them on a table. “New members get nine crowns. Spend it well.”

Lawrence picked up a spawnleather vest. It was too big. The armorer on duty helped him find one in his size. He was grateful. The leather stank. It was ugly and bloodstained. But it had no holes and seemed intact.

“Don’t you have any gambeson?” Lawrence pleaded.

“Gambeson burns. Difficult to make. Metal better. Leather cheaper,” the armorer grunted. “What want?”

Lawrence bought a reduced version of an adventuring kit. It contained useful things like human travel rations, a canteen, and a lantern. It took almost all of his money, but he was able to add a gladius, a dagger, and a buckler. To his immense satisfaction, he found a leather vest lined with wool. When he asked about it, the armorer shrugged and said it was plunder from a Hellgout. Human in origin, but never used.

It was a British World War One-era jerkin. It was light brown with four brass buttons. The interior had black wool. While designed to be worn under clothes, it was a bit too big. He wore it under his robe anyway. It was warm. It was a shade of brown not out of place in a steampunk photo op. It was a piece of home. Wearing it made him feel like a remnant of Earth’s culture protected him.

“You’re one of my company now.” Before leaving, the fiend captain pinned a badge to the front of his robe. It was a metal gauntlet with the fingers forming a raised fist. “If we get attacked or I send for you, you must appear.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then you’ll be considered a renegade. Killed on sight.”

“No second chances, huh?”

“You’re working for demons now. Kill your weakness, or you will die.”

Lawrence left the fortress. The doors shut behind him. He looked up at the side of the mountain. He could not see the school. Worse, he could not find the path to get up there. Overhead, the sun sank lower in the sky. Lawrence spent a good hour walking all over the estate, but he couldn’t find the path. He went back to the fortress and knocked.

“What?” the fiend asked, irritated.

“I can’t find the way back.” Lawrence looked at his feet. “Can you show me?”

The demon said nothing. Its displeasure was palpable.

“Kneel before me.”

Lawrence slowly sank to one knee. Rough gravel dug into his shin. Next to him, the imp cackled.

“No. I won’t help you. I have better things to do. If you want help, you’ll have to swear a Contract. But you won’t because you’re smarter than that. And no one will offer one, because your soul is so pure you don’t have to honor one. Your soul is so pure you’re worth five times as much iliaster as a damned. I should have just killed you. Now go away. Otherwise, enter and become a slave of the company.”

The fiend left, but he left the door wide open. Lawrence stared open-mouthed at the demon’s back. Inside, other demons pointed at Lawrence. They giggled. Lawrence knew the story of him kneeling to a low-rank fiend would make its rounds before dinner. He stood. He brushed the dirt from his robes.

“Whatsit nee ‘elp?”

Lawrence ignored it. The imp whistled. He still ignored it. He tried to think of something to do. The imp began obnoxiously repeating a two-note whistle. Angered, Lawrence turned his head. He didn’t bother hiding his disdain.

“What?”

“Whatsit nee ‘elp?” the imp sneered. “Yoo pay. I leed. Promise?”

“Promise.” There. It was said.

“Ten crow’. Pay now.” The imp held out its hand.

“I’ll make you a deal. I will give you all the money in my pocket,” Lawrence patted his robe. “After you take me to Nimue’s Tower. Deal?”

“All monee?” the imp grinned. It had a wide mouth full of sharp teeth.

“All money,” Lawrence promised.

“Deal.” The imp raced off. Lawrence followed at his own pace. The imp alighted on a boulder some distance up the slope. Lawrence picked his way up the side, mindful of his footing. Loose gravel covered the slope. It seemed like the imp had chosen the worst possible path. When Lawrence made it to the boulder, the imp flew.

It soared up to another boulder. Lawrence half-crawled after it. When he reached it, it flew up, but this time the opposite way. Lawrence followed as it zig-zagged up the mountain. It seemed to choose the most treacherous paths. Several times, Lawrence had to stop and crawl.

The wind whipped around the mountain. Gusts of burning and freezing air buffeted Lawrence. The demon stopped laughing when it saw him surviving. Lawrence had completed many obstacle courses in school. While far from athletic, he enjoyed the thinking required to solve the sometimes puzzle-like paths. The path gave him plenty of trouble, but he survived.

The Morningstar had long since fallen to Malebolge by the time Lawrence reached the school. The imp, disappointed, waited by the gate. It held up its hand. Lawrence reached into his pocket. He grabbed the handful of coins he had left and dropped them in the demon’s palm.

“Ack. Trik-ree,” the imp screeched. “Liar. Promise monee. Gib penie.”

“No,” Lawrence waggled his finger. “I promised I’d give all the money I have in my pocket. This is all I’ve got left. As promised.”

“EEEEEE.” The imp flew at him in a rage.

“AH.” Lawrence batted it away with his buckler. He smacked the imp out of the air. It cut him a few times with its metal shard before zooming down the mountain back to the fortress. Lawrence exhaled. Well, he was glad it was over. He went to open the gate.

It was locked.

Ah, of course. The gates closed and locked on the way out. Lily had the keys. She’d have to open them…

His fingers rested on the lock. Slowly, his hand dropped.

Except Lily had tried to kill him twice. Once by leading him down the mountain. Once by assuming he didn’t know the rituals and trying to get the demons to do it. Let Lawrence prove himself a true faustian or die trying. If the captain had forced him to bind multiple demons, Lawrence would have failed. He was knowledgeable, but by no means was he powerful. Then abandoning him down there where he’d be lost. Climbing back up without a guide was another.

Then the stairs. Did they trip and fall or did Lily try to break his neck? If she wanted to knock him down the stairs, the higher floors had steeper stairs. Maybe she wanted it to look like an accident? Maybe she was inexperienced? Whatever the reasoning, Cosmic Creepers had commented on it. He said it was nothing, but was it? And now the gates were locked.

Four, maybe five different tries to kill him. He could try screaming. Part of him thought that was a bad idea. Lawrence looked around. Never had he felt more alone and unwanted. He put his back to the freezing metal. He sank to the ground. He settled down to wait.