“How do you feel?” Zyocuh asked and frowned. He stood over a pit that contained a sky-blue dragon bathing inside a tub of boiling red liquid. The dragon’s scales shone with a purple hue as bubbles burst and splattered red liquid against its torso. “If it feels like you’re going to die, let me know.”
“I feel great,” Alora said and whimpered. She rolled her shoulders and stretched her body out, arching her back as her head and tail rose up into the air. Her wings fully extended, and she let out a groan filled with pure bliss. The red bath surged against her sides, coating her scales an even darker shade of violet. “I feel really great.”
Zyocuh furrowed his brow and took a step back, careful to avoid the symbols on the ground surrounding the pit. He knelt to the ground and placed his palms into a circular pattern that he had painted earlier with a brush. “I’ll increase the strength of the spell again. Tell me if something feels wrong.”
“You do you,” Alora said and finished stretching. She straightened her neck and exhaled before rolling around in the pit, blowing bubbles out of her nostrils as she submerged her head. She lay on her back and floated to the top, pawing at the liquid, splashing it over her stomach. “Oh, it’s getting warmer. Great.”
“Warmer is good,” Zyocuh said and grunted. Beads of sweat formed on his head, his scalp glistening in the sunlight. “There’s no pain? It doesn’t hurt?”
“Nope,” Alora said. “No pain at all. It’s a little tingly, but definitely not painful.”
“How can that be? The blood of humans shouldn’t merge so well with you since you’re a dragon.” Zyocuh swallowed as mana surged down his arms and into the symbols. “Is it possible that after experiencing Grimmoldesser’s punishment, your sense of pain is off-kilter? Anything would seem painless after that.”
Alora shuddered and rolled over onto her feet. She glared at Zyocuh and spurt smoke out of her nostrils. “Don’t remind me about that,” she said in a voice so low it was almost a growl. “If I said there’s no pain, then there’s no pain. Make my bath—err, ritual…. Make my ritual warmer!”
Zyocuh pursed his lips but did as the dragon asked.
***
“You witch! Monster! Evil woman! Stop, stop I say! I’ll tear your nose hairs out, you demon!”
Tafel turned her head around. She was sitting on Vur’s head, his body polymorphed into a dragon. Behind her, Alice and Mr. Skelly were huddling around a jar, a pouch of water in Alice’s hands. Wind blew past, pushing Tafel’s hair into her face, but before she could fix it, Mary moved the stray locks out of the way and tucked it behind the demon’s horns. The empress gave Tafel a small smile before turning her attention onto Alice and Mr. Skelly as well.
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“I’ll—glub! Glub, glub, blargh! Stop it! You wicked, corpse-loving weirdo with a chest flatter than a door! I’m going to—glub!”
“Alright, seriously, what are you doing?” Tafel asked. She frowned at the water pouring out of the flask and into the jar of jam that was starting to take on a greenish color.
“I’m watering the genie,” Alice said, meeting Tafel’s gaze with a straight face. “They’re plants, right? If I don’t want him to die, I have to water him.”
“Plants can drown, you brainless oaf! I hope you slip and fall and drown while taking a bath, but that’s not possible because you don’t take any. If you did, you wouldn’t be so stinky!”
Alice tilted the pouch further, increasing the speed at which the water fell into the jar.
Tafel frowned. “I’m pretty sure there are some laws somewhere that say attempting to drown a genie is a crime.”
“That’s right!” the genie in the jar said while treading water. “That somewhere is your conscience, which this demonic hag doesn’t have!” A pillar of water fell on top of his head, forcing him down into the murky mixture of jam and some other unknown liquids.
“Like I said, I’m feeding him.” Alice nodded and pinched the top of her water pouch shut before handing it to Mr. Skelly. “You know how people get grumpy when they’re hungry? I figure it’s the same for genies, so I thought he’d become politer if he ate.”
“Right,” Tafel said in a flat voice. “Okay. You said you were going to use up his wish for me, but, uh, I really rather prefer it if you didn’t. I think he might be holding a bit of a grudge now.”
“Are you sure?” Alice asked before shrugging. “Well, you do have those sheepmen searching for genies. You can wish for one of those to help you become a demon lord; I’ll just keep this one around then.”
The genie breached the surface and gasped for breath. “Die a painful death filled with thorns and crayons! Don’t you know it’s bad luck to bring harm to a genie!?”
Alice placed the jar back into her bag and closed the leather flap, drowning out the genie’s curses. She pointed towards the horizon. “I think I see them.”
Tafel glanced at the bag before following Alice’s finger. On top of a mountain, a cluster of dragons were milling about. They rose into the air, then stopped and landed back on the mountaintop. Then, they flew into the air again. But once again, they stopped and landed.
“What are they doing?” Alice asked.
“Is it a mating dance?” Mr. Skelly asked. “You know how birds do that, right? What if those dragons are doing the same?”
Alice poked Tafel’s side, causing the demon to flinch. “You’re the expert on dragons.”
Tafel scowled and pushed away Alice’s hand. “What? Since when?” She squinted at the dragons in the distance and shielded her eyes from the sun with her hand. “It looks like they’re flying up and throwing boulders off the mountain. There’s no way they’re acting like birds.” Tafel lowered her hand and frowned. “Speaking of which, where’s Emile and Susan?”