The official entrance to the provost’s house was from Grafton Street. Visiting dignitaries got to drive in and park in front of the large red door. For students like Liam there was a back way from the main square, a door that was opened to him by an elderly man in the uniform of the campus security team. A dark-haired woman, not much older than a student, ushered him out of a cold rain and held out her hand.

‘Liam Nowak?’

Her accent was unusual, Scottish? Liam lifted off his hood and shook the pale hand.

‘Jennifer Thomson, p.a. to the provost. Thanks for coming; terrible weather isn’t it?’

‘Awful.’

The security guard gave Liam an unfathomable look and for a moment Liam missed the demon crisp. It could have told him what the man was thinking. Today, however, he was crispless. After a long and – apparently – candid conversation with Lord Azanth they had agreed that Liam should not bring the demon to this meeting with the provost.

‘This way.’ Jennifer brought Liam inside a long rectangular room and then took a door on the right to a peculiar corridor. A narrow, featureless walkway curved through ninety degrees and led them to a door for which the p.a. had a key.

Stepping through, Liam felt like he was entering Aladdin’s cave. Several gold candelabra with bright, electric candles were reflected in two large, bronze-framed mirrors. A dozen gilt-framed paintings displayed landscapes of a former age. Delicate vases stood on gleaming wooden furniture. Liam’s steps echoed on a cream marble floor and when he looked down, he felt slightly guilty for the wet footprints he was leaving.

‘Let me take your coat.’ Jennifer hung Liam’s navy padded jacket on a hatstand beside a full-length camel-hair coat. The provost’s? Up until this point, Liam had refused to feel nervous or intimidated. He’d done nothing wrong. So why would the provost want to speak to him? Now, however, surrounded by objects from an upper-class culture outside of his previous experience, trepidation was growing within him.

There was something uncanny about the scene, something otherworldly. If Liam had been told that on entering the gilded room he’d crossed over onto one of the Planes of Virtue, he’d have believed it. Angels trod here, not northside kids.

‘Provost, Earl Clarence, this is Liam Nowak.’ Jennifer had opened a polished wooden door and was beckoning Liam through to a red-carpeted room. The great man himself stood up and came around his desk to shake Liam’s hand. Liam got an impression of a giraffe in motion: long-necked, awkward, watery eyes staring down from a height.

‘Welcome Mr Nowak. And you’ll have heard of our esteemed visitor, Earl Clarence.’ The provost gestured towards a tall, rectangular, lead-lined window where the silhouette of a warrior in platemail armour resolved itself to be the famous paladin of the Seventh Plane of Virtue. Liam had the rare Earl Clarence card in his Panini sticker collection of Heroes and Villains. Six stars. Red ranking. Level 100.

‘Mr Nowak. Before we begin, I take it you have no problem with my applying a few skills to confirm everyone’s safety?’

‘I’ll leave you to it,’ stepping out, Jennifer closed the door behind her.

‘Just a formality,’ murmured the provost as he resumed his seat.

‘First Detect Evil.’ The paladin raised his gauntleted hand and pointed at Liam. A tingle of magic was accompanied by a distinct look of disappointment on Earl Clarence’s face.

‘Nothing, I take it?’ said the provost.

The paladin frowned. ‘And Detect Magic.’ After using this skill Earl Clarence took a step closer. ‘The wand in your pocket… and… the ring?’

‘That’s right.’

‘May I see the ring?’ Now the paladin was close, Liam could see grey hairs in his beard and at his temples. The picture on the hero’s sticker was younger.

Working the ring off his middle finger, Liam passed it over. It was a thick silver band with a shiny black stone, like obsidian. A design of a snake or eel was visible on the stone if you got a light to shine on it at a certain angle.

‘Freedom of Movement.’ To Liam’s dismay the paladin placed the ring on the table, rather than hand it straight back. ‘Surprisingly powerful for a mage of level five.’ The coldness in the voice of Earl Clarence was unmistakable and Liam felt his stomach tighten. This must be about the demon. Had he done something wrong? Evil even? Was his college place in danger?

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

‘Please take a seat Mr Nowak.’ The provost at least managed a smile.

Taking a deep breath to relax his body, Liam sat in a ruby-red leather chair.

‘I’ll be direct.’ Earl Clarence leaned on one hand near the edge of the large table, looming over Liam. The paladin’s dark eyebrows met in a fierce scowl. ‘You found a demon crisp and instead of eating it, you have been assisting him. Where is he?’

Liam said nothing. Although he would have preferred to keep the thought out of his mind, it was impossible not to recall hiding the Tupperware box at the back of Professor Brady’s mailbox, a mailbox overflowing with unread letters dating back over a year.

The paladin turned to the provost. ‘Since when has your venerable institution approved of students consorting with demons?’

‘Oh, come now, Mr Nowak didn’t know the crisp was a demon. How could he have?’

‘That’s a very good question. How could the demon talk to you?’

Liam said nothing.

‘Let me explain the situation.’ Earl Clarence stood up and walked around behind Liam. The floor beneath the carpet must have been wooden, for it creaked with the weight of the armoured paladin. ‘Lord Azanth was the most powerful of all demons and to defeat him was my finest achievement to date. It also gave the forces of Virtue an opportunity unprecedented in centuries. By reincarnating him on the Plane of Life as a crisp, I assumed he would have no voice, no ability to move, no possibility to defend himself. My assumption was that he would be eaten and thus banished from this plane forever. A permanent shift in the balance on the Plane of Life towards Virtue is surely a most admirable gain for humanity? Let the demon live, let him regain his powers, then you allow evil to flourish with all that would that means for criminality, anarchy, and horror. Not to mention the damage this would cause to my reputation for wisdom. So I ask you again, where is the crisp?’

Liam said nothing. Of course, no one wanted to live in an evil world. All the same, he didn’t like the paladin’s manners. Nor did he like the greedy looks that the provost gave the ring, or being invited to rat out his crisp.

The creaking stopped. ‘Lord Provost, come now. In my day a student who protected a demon would be expelled and handed over to the authorities for criminal proceedings.’

The provost looked startled. Then he focused on Liam, ‘Mr Nowak, please co-operate on this matter. Now you have learned that your crisp is a demon, I’m sure you will be very glad to see him banished from the Plane of Life forever.’

‘I’m sorry sir, I can’t explain it. But it feels wrong to betray the crisp.’

The paladin snorted with derision. ‘Destroying evil is not a betrayal.’

‘You are aware that summoning demons, vampires, werewolves, and other evil creatures to the Plane of Life is an expellable offense?’

‘I am, sir.’ Liam did not feel it necessary to point out that that it was the paladin whose actions had brought the demon to Trinity College.

‘Do you not have a demon servant?’

‘I… Not really sir. He’s more an adventuring partner than a servant.’

‘Well...’ The provost was an elderly man, his remaining hair was white and stood up around his ears, so that he looked constantly surprised. Stretching his fingers out on the desk, the provost examined them, as if they might tell him what to say next.

Two heavy steps and then Earl Clarence planted his own hands on the tabletop and leaned over the provost. ‘You do realise how much of a fool I’ll look if the demon survives as a crisp? You have to end this now.’

All of a sudden Liam felt like smiling.

‘What?’ The paladin turned his angry eyes to Liam.

‘From now on, when you attend dinner parties, everyone who dislikes you is going to serve you prawn cocktail starters.’

‘Damn you, sir. If you were old enough and high enough level, I would demand satisfaction for those words.’

Liam said nothing, but he did provocatively lick his lips.

‘Now, now.’ The provost groped unsuccessfully for a placatory tone. ‘As far as I’m currently aware, Mr Nowak hasn’t broken any college regulations.’ He stared at Liam. ‘Can we prevail upon you in the name of humanity to eat your crisp?’

‘Oh no,’ cried Liam with genuine disgust.

‘Well, to drop it on the ground and tread on it then?’

‘I’m sorry sir, but the crisp has saved my life and perhaps the lives of everyone in my class. It wouldn’t be right.’

‘Right! My goodness. What do they teach in morality class these days?’ Earl Clarence went over to the window and stared out, arms folded.

The provost let out a long sigh. ‘Very well Mr Nowak. Be on your guard though. Demons are notorious for deceiving humans and this one is taking advantage of your good nature for its own gain.’

‘Thank you sir, can I go?’

‘You may.’

As Liam stood up and leaned over the desk to collect the ring, the provost grabbed it first with surprising alacrity. ‘Ah. You understand that all magic items discovered by our students while using our portals, strictly speaking, are property of the college?’

As a surge of anger swept over him, Liam took a moment. Indignation would not work here but politics might. ‘In theory, sir. But the college has not exerted that right for decades and you might find the student body ­– and staff too – most alarmed by the news you confiscated the ring.’

The provost looked away. Then placed the ring back on the table.

‘I am just clarifying that the legal right to the ring resides with TCD. Of course, you, as its discoverer, must carry it. At least until you graduate.’

‘Of course.’ Taking the ring, Liam went to the door, his heart beating fast. ‘Oh, Lord Azanth had a question for you.’

‘For me?’ the provost sounded surprised.

‘He asks whether any of your scholars might know why someone is letting the titans loose?’

‘Titans?’ the provost blinked slowly, then looked over to the paladin.

Earl Clarence sounded contemptuous. ‘Don’t worry about titans. They aren’t a threat.’

‘Lord Azanth is very worried. He says that the entire fabric of the fifteen planes could be torn apart – asunder was his word – if they are not confined again.’

‘I see; I see. Well, I’ll have the Department of Classics look into this, perhaps invite a speaker with expertise in the lore of titans.’

‘Don’t let a demon dictate your actions.’ The paladin turned to Liam and raised his voice. ‘Mr Nowak. I will find the crisp. And I will take great delight in eating it.’