Page 35 of The Misfit Mage and His Darling Demon

“He’s playing, Bez.” He reached out, stroking the short, black fur. “He’s a puppy.”

“He’s disgusting. The foulness of the saliva must carry a potent toxin that’s fried your brain or perhaps locked you in an illusion.”

“I think it’s just what he ate. Not sure what kind of puppy chow someone feeds a growing Cerberus, but his breath is almost as rank as yours.”

“How. Dare. You.” After I’d literally ripped through worlds to rescue him, he had the audacity to say I had bad breath.

“It’s only after you eat certain foods.” Walter feigned an apologetic grin like I’d buy it. “It’s not my fault you think raw liver and onions are an aphrodisiac.”

“With chocolate peppermint.” I crossed my arms.Mint is in the name.

Walter’s hand grazed the flames as he pet the Mythic beast. They flickered brighter, leaving him unscathed, while the center head nuzzled his face. Revolting.

The left head turned his fiery eyes at me and growled. I glared and bared my teeth. I wouldn’t be intimidated by some tiny monster.

“Bez, leave him alone. You’re going to scare him.”

“Good.” I huffed.

With that, the attention of the Cerberus fell onto the black fireball, which continued bouncing around the room thanks to Walter’s incompetent overpowered use of telekinesis. The three-headed puppy gave chase. I hoped it would catch the flames and burn itself in a pile of ashes.

Antoninus hissed as the beast crossed his path. Finally, something me and that annoying scorpion could agree on.

The three-headed monster ran back and forth, biting at the fireball and falling short.

“Careful, Weather,” Wally shouted, brushing the fur that clung to his shirt with the adhesive of slobber.

I shuddered in revulsion.

“Oh, no.” Wally’s face tensed as the hound snapped the black flames with powerful jaws. “What do we do?”

“Grab marshmallows.”

Antoninus’ clawed clatter clearly held the same sentiment.

Then the most unconceivable thing happened, the little abomination swallowed my flames and belched. Smoke blew out of the left and right head while the center head yelped, mocking my Diabolic fire with a lopsided tongue hanging out of his mouth. Fiend.

But of course, Mythic beasts often exuded elemental dominance over one in particular, and this one thought itself a master of flames. Well, if he liked fire, perhaps I’d offer him some more.

“You want to play fetch, huh?” I conjured another black fireball, tightening the size to instill more heat and catastrophic destruction in a denser form. “Why don’t you try catching this…”

“No.” Wally wagged a finger. “Weather, sit.”

“What are you doing?”

“He already destroyed the door,” Wally said. “Put the fire away, Bez. You two can play later.”

I smothered the flames, savoring the scorched sensation on my palm.

“What’s with the name?” I asked.

“Weather? It just sort of came to me. Not sure if he’s already been named yet, but I think he really likes it. Huh, Weather?” Wally patted the center head, which responded by joyfully barking.

“Weather? As in whether or not you should kill him before he kills us?”

“Don’t be silly. Weather as in”—Wally pointed to the jovial, panting center head—“Sunny”—he pointed to the surly, snarling left head—“Stormy”—then he rested his hand on the gloomy right head—“and Cloudy”—which stared with glossy, flamed eyes and timidly lowered his head when Wally scratched his pointed ears.

“Sunny, Stormy, and Cloudy? You realize that makes no sense.”

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