Passage is easy on a river barge in fair weather, far from the rushes of spring melt or the sandbars of late summer. No rapids, no portage, the three days down to Fishmouth promised little excitement. From there, it was an easy, civilized walk through farmland to Baronston. This was a well-trodden trade route, locally, and would become boisterous only during harvest. Here in May, everything was smooth sailing.

Parry propped his back against cord of lumber and feigned a nap, stepping into his mental space.

"We need to talk."

"It's so lovely, can't we enjoy our threatening banter outside?"

Parry mentally rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to argue openly with my cat. The crew will think I'm mad or possessed."

"Actually..."

"You drew Inheritor's Will in my soul, into our bond." That made the demon pay attention, meeting the boy's gaze. "I want to know why."

"Should be obvious," it replied. "When you leave this world, I get everything. Everything. Your spells, your skills, your power, whatever you've accumulated. You won't be needing it any more, hate to let it go to waste."

"Quite the payday for you, if I die. You think making yourself my beneficiary on a magical, material, spiritual, even cosmic level inspires trust? It incentivizes you to kill me!"

"Hurry up and drown, I can't wait to inherit your false tooth and [Friendship with Wood]."

"Alright, it incentivizes you to kill me when I have something you really want. And I'm going to get it eventually, whatever it is. You know my plans involve accumulating nigh incalculable power. I'll need most of what this world has if I want a shot at the Creator. You haven't told me your goals. How can I know when I've picked up all you need? At some point, you'll decide I've acquired just the right spell or that one relic and your next move is to murder me."

"You've been a demon dozens of times, you tell me. Do we ever feel we have enough power?"

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"You might, when cowardice overtakes ambition. Maybe at first I can rely on your greed or insecurity, at least until you'll decide you're smarter than me and can do whatever you need to do with the tools I've got. Maybe in time we'll cross some line, and you'll get frightened I have no more need of you, or that my ends and yours part ways. Inheritor's Will guarantees this partnership devolves into treachery. I'm not wrong."

The cat smiled. "You think like a demon. How reassuring."

"I'm not here to work for you, taking risks to gain rewards just for you to knock me off and claim them."

"And I'm not here to untangle the disorganized mess of your memories while you bleed me dry of my powers!"

"You want me to ring the Master's Bell now?"

"Straight to threats. Do you have the mind of a slaver after all? I include a carrot and all you can manage is to shake the stick."

"You're not my slave, I very specifically made you my familiar."

"Then tell me, oh benevolent one, what happens to a familiar when the summoner dies?"

Parry stopped short. He stared at the cat, who met his gaze full on.

"I don't believe it."

The kitten cocked its head, ears swiveling?

"I don't believe you have that kind of faith in me or in my scheme to defeat the Creator--a plan I can't even remember because you ate it. All demons are contemptuous, convinced they're superior, the smartest, the most powerful, the most capable. The only thing they defer to is a god or a stronger demon--until they can overtake them."

"Indeed," Styak nodded. "We're perfect that way."

"It's impossible you're willing to lock yourself in with me. Two weeks ago you thought I was your ticket to corporality or, barring that, I'd be your food. You tasted enough of my memories to realize you'd bitten off more than you could chew."

Parry clenched his hands. "You get nothing out of this but a chance to come along for the ride, knowing all the while I plan to use you for hard labor. When I die, you die. It's a bad deal and you know it, so there must be a trick."

Casually, the demon licked its leg. "Patience."

"What?"

"I have patience, more than you can imagine. I can see that while you're weak, you're in danger, I'm in danger. But you won't stay weak long. I'll risk that, as I can keep you alive better than you think. When you get powerful, I'll have opportunities to accomplish my "goals," as you put it. And if you win..."

The cat rose from the plane of Parry's memories, floating--astonishingly--right to eye level. "If you win, you destroy the very Creator, and in so doing, you go home, leaving me everything. Everything! I return to my world with the power of a god."

Parry blinked, speechless.

"A bad bet? Probably, but the rewards are Hell."