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The interior of the tower—which was more likely several shacks stacked atop each other—stank. Yuk detested the smell of humans generally, but it was so strong inside that he could only assume this was unfavorable even to the creatures themselves. Mixed with that malodor was the scent of something burning.

Whatever it was, it was not the pleasant smell of physical collapse and unchecked flame. Peering out over the expensive-looking rugs and stacked piles of silver dishes, bowls, cups, and whatever else humans used instead of their hands, Yuk found the source of the poisonous-smelling smoke.

Sage. He scampered across the gloomy room and swiped at the smoldering incense, sending the smoking leaves and their tray into the nearest wall.

The tray clattered to a stop, but something else moved behind Yuk. Invisible, he turned with a mischievous grin, claws ready to rip and tear into whatever poor rat had reminded Yuk of his appetite. His smile faltered.

Quasits were often confused with, or even outright mistaken for, imps. Both are small, bipedal, hellish creatures, and both have a penchant for mischief. The tails are different, and imps have wings, but mortals tended to like grouping things together in boxes, even if things spilled out over the top a little bit.

The tentacle-wielding, blue-black, cat-shaped creatures called imp-catchers were equally capable of tracking down and hunting both their namesake and the imp's lesser-known cousins, the quasit. To an imp-catcher, the difference was merely one of hunting strategy.

So when Yuk saw the infra-magic glare of an imp-catcher’s eyes inching toward him from the shadow beneath a nearby table, he knew he was not about to be mistaken for a deadlier imp.

Yuk didn’t bother to wonder why the human master of this place had an imp-catcher. How the human master had an imp-catcher. Yuk only had half a moment to decide whether he was going to dodge left or right.

He went right.

The imp-catcher glanced off the leg of the incense-table where Yuk had been crouched a moment before. It dug its claws into the carpet and pivoted, using the two claw-tipped tentacles on its shoulders to reach forward and launch itself toward the fleeing Yuk like a pellet from a slingshot.

Yuk hadn’t seen such a creature in thousands of years, and the combination of shock and terror made it difficult to dredge up any survival tips for escaping them. However, Yuk had seen rabbits fleeing from hunting dogs, foxes, and cats before. He felt very much like such a rodent right now, and so fleeing like one came almost naturally.

Yuk again to one side, then leapt straight into the air. One of the furry tentacles snapped whip-like at his feet as the cat passed underneath him. Yuk only just managed to flick his tail out of the way of the creature’s mouth.

Several things happened in the next half-second all at once.

First, Yuk thanked his incredible intelligence and foresight for crippling the guard outside. If not for the distraction, it would have been beyond even deaf-blind humans to miss the commotion happening within their headquarters.

Second, Yuk transformed into a bat. It was a little awkward to do mid-leap, but Yuk had centuries of practice and, well, it was that or have his ankle snagged by one of the imp-catcher’s tentacles.

At that point, the imp-catcher likely realized it had missed its quarry, and so it teleported itself out of its lunge and re-appeared facing Yuk, already gathering itself to pounce.

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Yuk managed three flaps of his wings before the imp-catcher was also airborne. Its claws were splayed wide like an eagle’s talons, its twin tentacles thrown backward against its body it as it flew forward. Its teeth were bared and its eyes gleamed violet-silver-green with reflected magic.

Yuk blasted it in the face with a small explosion of flame. The cat closed its mouth and shut its eyes against the burst, but its momentum brought its skull smashing into Yuk’s green-furred body.

They crashed to the floor with Yuk’s wings wrapped around the imp-catcher’s head like a blindfold. Blinded, the cat reached with its tentacles to pry Yuk from its face.

Yuk thought that sounded pretty bad, so he transformed again, this time into a heavy bulltoad, and kicked away with powerful hind legs.

He was rewarded with a yowl as his kick threw the cat backward. Yuk’s slimy flank burned with fresh pain as one of the tentacles ripped into him. It was a small victory, and it would not last. The longer he stayed here, the more likely he would run out of luck and became the imp-catcher’s newest plaything.

Unfortunately, Toren had not given Yuk any “save yourself if you must” orders. Complete the mission or die trying.

Only one door led anywhere other than the way Yuk had come in, so he chose that one. He bounded forward, clearing half the distance from the center of the room.

A subtle thwip reached his ears as the cat teleported forward. With his bulltoad form’s wide range of vision, he could see the tentacles stretching toward him from behind, reaching for his broad, freshly wounded flank.

So he transformed again, cutting his height in half. The wide, steep slope of the bulltoad’s body vanished, and the imp-catcher’s clawed tentacle flicked just above Yuk’s newly segmented carapace. The demon’s sensitive antennae quivered at the rush of disturbed air from the claws’ passing.

He skittered forward on one hundred legs working in rippling, rhythmic unison. The crack beneath the door was just ahead.

Unfortunately, his centipede form offered little speed. He’d never make it. The imp-catcher had him outmatched in every way, and the damned thing could teleport, for Dagon’s sake. Yuk’s pincers dripped fresh venom, but it was not the venom of an imp’s lethal sting. Even if it were as potent, the imp-catcher probably had its immunities to such demon-borne toxins anyway.

So much for retiring, Yuk thought.

The imp-catcher’s claws sunk into his carapace, somewhere around the rear twenty-some legs. Yuk tried to transform, but something locked him in place. Another trick of the imp-catcher, no doubt, its specialized claws preventing Yuk’s own magical abilities.

Yuk was not fanatical to his master’s orders, nor was he brave. He was terrified of dying, though he’d done it before. Yet, even this hell-hole of a human village was better than returning to the Abyss. Yuk wanted to sow chaos, sure, but he also wanted to relax, and that was a concept at odds with the demonic realms.

So the quasit fought. Not out of duty, not out of bravery, but because his other option was perishing and returning to the endless caverns, canyons, and crevices from whence he’d come. He pulled with every ounce of strength the weak arthropod’s form could muster. The cat pulled in the opposite direction. Ligaments tore apart between segmented armored plates. His rear legs scrabbled uselessly. His tail-pincers tapped against the cat’s blue-black fur.

An explosion of pain detonated in Yuk’s lower body as the imp-catcher pulled him apart. The rest of him shot across the floor on his eighty remaining legs.

Yuk couldn’t see. His compound eyes detected little other than shadow and movement at the best of times. The hellfire in his body blocked out all other sensation. Still, some fragment of his awareness noticed the cat had finished tearing at its captured piece of Yuk, that it had realized its prey was still alive, that it was leaping forward…

And then Yuk was passing beneath the door, his plated body tap-tap-tapping against the door’s lower edge.

The imp-catcher growled and battered at the door behind him, but it was unable to teleport to where it could not see. Exhausted, Yuk shifted into his native form and collapsed against a flight of stairs.

Yuk was no stranger to pain, torment, or literal Hell, but wow did he hate it all the same. Fortunately, the transformation allowed him to seal off his wounds, but it did not regrow the missing mass. He could not stop the throbbing of his nerves where they had been severed just below his left knee and at the base of his missing tail.

The demon gritted his teeth. Determination did not pull him to his remaining foot—only the will of his master did that. He would have quit if that had been an option. But he was still alive, and that meant he would do as Toren said. His chance at freedom was still his to seize.

Plus, he had escaped from an imp-catcher, reaffirming that he was an exceptionally talented quasit. Most demons of his ilk would have perished, he was certain.

He stuck a worm-like tongue out at the defeated cat, then turned and began climbing.