Less than a week after their deal had been struck, Ariana called for Drake. Her gargoyle arrived at the bakery just as dawn was breaking. Each slow step on the stones crunched as the squat concrete demon plodded on. His tiny wings occasionally flapped uselessly in exertion. When Gigi opened the door, she could have sworn the thing had been wheezing. That or it had been chewing on rocks.

“G-g-o-o-d m-o-r-r-n-i-n-g,” the gargoyle croaked.

“Likewise,” Gigi said, folding her arms.

“M-M-i-s-t-r-e-s-s-” he was cut off.

“The witch wants Drake,” she said in irritation, then sighed. “Let me get him.”

She turned from the door and shut it brusquely. Gigi had come to terms with the fact that Ariana had been extremely helpful in figuring out how to prepare for her fight. That did not make her hate the woman any less. Gigi ground her teeth thinking about it. How dare that witch take advantage of her sweet, simple man.

Gigi found Drake in the backyard. He was doing push-ups in the flower beds the kit elemental had so generously left behind. She stood there and watched him for a moment, enjoying the view. She grabbed a towel sitting on the back porch and walked toward Drake.

“Alright, tough guy, the witch wants us,” she lied. Ariana, of course, only wanted Drake, but there was no way she was going to leave the two of them alone.

“Already?” He continued his workout.

“Yep. Sure seems like you have a fan,” Gigi said, trying to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

He laughed and hopped to his feet. “I think she likes me the way she likes an interesting book or a specimen on a table.” Drake grabbed the towel from her hand, mopping up the sweat.

“I would prefer if she weren’t interested at all,” Gigi grumbled.

Drake stopped drying off and grinned. “Are you jealous?”

Gigi’s ears twitched in annoyance. She was extremely jealous. She was woman enough to admit that to herself. However, she was not about to admit it to Drake.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” She waved her hand, dismissing the idea. “Besides, no matter how much she schemes, you live with me, so I have a home-field advantage anyway.” She stuck her thumb at herself in punctuation.

Drake let out a deep, hearty laugh. “By the gods, you are!”

“Am not!”

He shook his head and approached her. Drake took her hands and held them in front of him for a moment. His calm blue eyes met her annoyed brown ones. “Gigi, my body might be the king's property, and my shadow might be promised to a god, but you have my heart.”

She softened her stance. Why did he have to be so sweet? It would be far easier to stay annoyed. “By the gods, you are corny,” she whispered to him.

He shrugged. “It’s true.”

“Go take a bath.”

***

A short time after Drake was washed and dressed, the couple found themselves in front of the foreboding fortress, which Mistress Barbo called home. Gigi held Drake’s arm as if the wind might take him. As she had the entire trip to the witch’s house.

“You’re hurting me a bit.”

“Nonsense.” She casually loosened her grip.

“Nervous?”

“No,” she lied.

“Me too,” he nodded.

They had followed the gargoyle back to its master’s home. It was now arduously climbing back onto its perch above the door, its large cement rump wiggling in the breeze.

“Well, that is a sight,” said Gigi.

“Should we knock?”

The large foreboding door before them creaked open. This time, no torches flared to life. She supposed it was better than being blinded by fire. Every step down felt as if the air was growing more charged. It set Gigi’s hair on end and caused gooseflesh to erupt on her green skin. She squished in closer to Drake as something scampered beside her, causing her to hiss at the darkness. Something hissed back.

“I hate this place,” she murmured.

“Yeah, I can’t say I’m real fond of it either, but a deal is a deal,” Drake shrugged.

Before long, they were in front of the threshold of Ariana’s library. They both took deep breaths before pushing in the blackened door.

Ariana stood in the center of what had been a library during their last visit. Now, it was a vast sterile room, white walls lining the now eerily empty chamber. Gigantic orbs of light swirled lazily in the air, illuminating the expansive space. She stood in front of a sprawl of books and parchments that floated in the air around her.

“You’re late,” Ariana scolded, not bothering to look up from her work and furiously writing notes as the pair stepped closer.

“Yeah, well, we went as fast as your gargoyle,” Gigi shot back.

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Ariana looked up from her studies at this. “You’re also not alone, I see.” Irritation flashed across her pink eyes but then passed. “Fine. If you feel more comfortable with your servant, that is not an issue.”

“His servant?” Gigi spat with rage.

Drake’s eyes went wide in horror. His mouth opened, but nothing came out.

“Well, if you aren’t his servant, what are you?” Ariana challenged.

“I’m his...” Damn. What was she? Lover sounded temporary. Betrothed was an outright lie, but Gigi was considering it.

“She’s with me, what does it matter?” Drake interjected.

“Fine,” Ariana said, waving her hand. Trying to dismiss the foul odor of the conversation. “Get on the table.”

“Can I leave my clothes on?”

“Yes, yes. Nudity won’t be necessary for the ritual. The texts said it was purely optional.”

“The texts?” Gigi queried. Ariana acted as if she did not hear the question.

“What texts?” Drake asked.

“So glad you asked. Get on the table, and I’ll tell you all about it,” she said as she tapped the horizontal ethereal pane of light before her.

***

Drake stared at it with hesitation. He didn’t trust things that seemed to float for no reason, especially when told to get on to it. He sighed and shrugged. “Let’s get this over with.” Hopping up to sit on the table, he looked around uneasily. “What are we doing exactly?”

“We are going to make a connection with the one that holds your contract,” Ariana said as if it were obvious.

“His contract?” Gigi asked with confusion.

“I see you two know nothing of magic,” Ariana said, shaking her head dismissively.

“I’m a baker and fighter. Why would I know anything about magic?” Gigi said defensively.

“Pretend I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Drake said.

“You and I can both perform magic, yes?” Ariana simplified as Drake nodded. “Yet, I can’t control the shadows, and you can’t cast a simple locator spell. Why do you think that might be?”

“Um, we are different people?” he offered.

“You are closer than you might realize,” she said, pointing at him. “It’s in our blood. In order for one to draw on the forces that bind, you need to be born with the ability. A common gift among my people, but one far more rare in humans, especially males.”

“I can control the shadows because of my blood?”

“No, the ability to do magic in your blood is necessary but not sufficient. I perform wild magic. I draw on the elements because they are part of my nature. This takes years of willpower and refinement. You, Drake, were gifted your abilities through a contract, a covenant with a being beyond the Veil.”

“Wait, wouldn’t he have needed to make that agreement somehow, like in writing or something?” Gigi asked.

“A contract need not be written, but this one happens to be bound in ink for certain.” Ariana pointed to the tattoos on Drake’s forearm. “These are your agreements. These tattoos are what binds you.”

“To who?” Drake interrupted.

“Well, that is exactly what I intend to find out.”

“Okay, what do I need to do?”

“Lay back and stare into the void above.”

Drake did as he was instructed. As he did so, the orbs of light were instantly replaced with darkness. Small pinpricks of orange light began to spiral along the edge of the chamber as though thousands of tiny candles were lit. Despite all of the light, the blackness around them did not lessen. If anything, the inky murk seemed to grow thicker and heavier until it felt as if he was breathing in the very blackness itself.

He shut his eyes and took a deep breath. Suddenly, wind blew across him, and he opened them again. Bolting upright, he surveyed the scene around him. Darkness, nothing more, but he was sure he felt a breeze. The chilling kind of wind that only came when you were somewhere very high up. He also noticed Gigi and the witch were gone. Drake suddenly regretted agreeing to the whole experiment.

As his eyes began adjusting to the gloom, he focused on the stygian floor below. He threw one tentative leg over the table and felt the ground, although he could not see it. The floor beneath him pulsed with the rhythm of his heart. It felt like he was melting into the void, becoming lost.

Then, the stone beneath him began to glow a faint red. The ribbons of crimson cascaded away from him with every step he took. Despite the darkness, he felt as though he knew the way. He thought he heard the clap of the ocean against the shore somewhere far below him. Drake edged forward, suspecting he was on top of a tower of some kind, but did not wish to fall and test his theory.

That was when he saw it—a door covered in a network of red webbing. The confused soldier walked toward it carefully. He set his palm on the door and pushed, shattering it like glass. He felt a rush of air and the loss of gravity. He was falling.

Before he even had the time to scream, he collided hard with a patch of sand. He spit it out as he clumsily got to his feet.

“Another beggar, I presume,” cut in a gravelly voice.

“Hello?” Drake called out.

“Did you not hear me, little one?” A shape emerged in front of Drake, shrouded in red and black. “You have called me from beyond the Veil, no doubt begging for more power.” A sleek, black suit of armor on a massive throne appeared before him, the metal glowing as if heated from within by a great furnace. Its eyes were not visible past the helmet shield, yet Drake was certain the entity’s discerning gaze was fixed on him.

“I haven’t come to ask for anything,” Drake said with confusion. “Well,” he put his hand up, “I do have one question - who are you?”

“You know not my name?”

Drake shook his head. “You’re the shadow man, right? The one that lets me use my powers?” The ancient armored entity hung its head in its hands, letting out a sigh that held the weight of the cosmos in it.

“This is what my avatar has been reduced to? Fumbling blindly in the darkness?”

“Well, it’s not like anybody gave me instructions or anything!” Drake said in a huff.

“The teachings? They have been lost as well?”

“Um, sir, I don’t even know your name. Whatever...church you had, it’s long gone.”

“That is why I have become so weak, able to become ensnared in contracts with mortals.”

Drake looked at his arms. “Ariana mentioned that my tattoos were a deal with you?”

“Those tattoos bind you to me, but it is not a willing covenant I make. That is why I take your shadow in exchange for the power you wield. If I could, I would take more.”

“You never told me your name.”

“It is too difficult for human tongues, you may call me-”

“You know what, never mind. I’m going to call you the Black Lord if that’s okay with you. I’m actually not that great with names.”

The entity slumped further into its throne. “Truly, this wretch is what I have been reduced to?”

“I’m not a wretch,” Drake said with irritation.

“No? Tell me, boy, what do you desire? You aren’t looking for power, and your quest for knowledge seems dubious. Why is it you call me here?”

“Well,” Drake paused. “I want to be free to live my life with Gigi.”

The Black Lord considered this, sitting up slightly. “You seek freedom from what, boy?”

Drake looked down into the abyss and thought. “You,” he said finally.

The Black Lord let out a laugh that sounded like shattering glass. “My, you are an interesting one, boy.”

“My name is Drake.”

“Perhaps it is, but you are still but a boy in this court.”

“I guess being a boy is better than being a memory,” Drake retorted.

They both stayed in a tense silence before the elder entity broke it. “Perhaps...you are not wrong...young one. Be gone with you. You have given me much to think about.”

A moment later, Drake fell through the void once more. He awoke with a start, Gigi’s face directly over his. “I was so worried! You were talking and moving like someone was there.”

“Move.” Ariana brusquely pushed Gigi out of the way. “Did you make contact?”

Drake looked at the tattoos on his arms. “I would say so, and then some.”