Page 5 of Demons Treasure Warlocks

Bale saw bone shards and cracked skulls everywhere. Rael did have a point, Bale realized as he ventured farther in. It was a messy mix of human and animals. Bale paused briefly when he discovered a particularly misshapen skull. It definitely wasn’t terrestrial. Hissing at the possibilities, Bale continued until he reached the doorway to Typhon’s altar.

“Balor? Well, isn’t this a surprise!” Typhon slithered down from impossible heights. His tentacles clung to the slick rock wall as he came to greet Bale. Typhon’s face was goatlike with horns curled around his head. He stopped at his throne and threw himself on the padded seat. “How are you?”

“I want to be fixed,” Bale blurted out as he eyed Typhon’s horns with envy. Bale’s used to be fat and magnificent, jutting out from his forehead. “I want to fly, and I want my horns back.”

Typhon recoiled from Bale’s words and held tight to his own horns as though Bale was going to rip them from his head. “I’m sorry, Bale, but I don’t think I have the capability to do that. You’re not one of mine. And your essence was ripped off by magical means?”

“His Yellowness removed them in a fit of pique because I returned the coin for services rendered. He… didn’t like that,” Bale shared. Darius was worth the pain Hastur had dealt.

“He never likes anything. Let me see what I can come up with.” Typhon sat in his seat properly and cocked his head at Bale. “If you give me time to get my bearings and sort out your issues, I can offer you an answer.”

“What?” Bale asked as he tried to follow Typhon’s mangled sentence. But from the tone and warmth coming from Typhon, he might have a chance at being himself once more.

“Bend down, you untrusting git.”

Wincing, Bale knelt before Typhon on the uncomfortable stone dais. He waited impatiently for Typhon to do something and was ill-prepared for the kiss of benediction on his forehead.

“I bless you and offer you peace and solace should you need it. This place, this chamber of demonic worship will be your sanctuary. Take my words into your heart, my dear friend,” Typhon whispered into the charged air. Something shifted and changed within Bale as he resisted the urge to wipe Typhon’s mark off his forehead. Typhon grinned as he patted Bale’s shoulder.

“You idiot. What are you thinking? You’ve placed a target on your back.” Bale fell back on the granite floor and hissed at the pain.

“Giving you a place. No one is allowed to enter here unless they’re one of mine. Not even Elder Demons who’ve grown too big for their britches. You deserve somewhere to hide, to lick your wounds. I want this for you, Balor. I can’t help with your true desires, but I can offer you this. Seek out the old tree spirits and possibly the dragon. They can task the brownies to make you a salve for your wings and find an answer for your horns.”

Bale knew that Typhon spoke the truth. Hakko was fair. But he worried that other people would see him only as the right-hand to Hastur. They wouldn’t be able to look past the surface.

If Darius couldn’t, why would anyone else?

ChapterThree

Darius cleaned up the cottage to his satisfaction after Bale and Isaac left. He hadn’t meant to kick them out, but it was nice to have a moment alone to think. The magic he used had felt alien and wrong. The taste was off, and it didn’t sit well with him.

Thelightbulbs all needed to be replaced as well as some of the dishes his mother had left him. His heart stuttered a bit as he thought of his mom. She had been so kind and encouraged Darius’s wild ideas, as long as they didn’t hurt anyone—including himself. Because of his parents dying, he'd discovered magic and everything it encompassed. He didn’t want to bring them back to life. All Darius had wanted was to alleviate the loneliness. He'd been susceptible to Hastur’s manipulation at the time, and he'd believed everything Hastur told him and agreed to the worst sort of thing.

Darius could see the same sort of handling happening once again but on a grander scale. Hastur and his minions were working on the town as they had with him, and it scared him.

Bale was the only other person who knew intimately well Hastur’s machinations, and Darius groaned. He was going to have to be a big boy and forgive Bale if they wanted to get rid of Hastur once and for all.

The cats began hissing and lashing their tails. Darius was going to reach down and pet them for forgiveness until he realized their anger wasn’t at him. They were hyper focused on the front door. The visitor was wrong on every level, and they were not happy with them.

Cautiously, he opened the door a tiny bit and faced the creature on the other side. The guest was a cryptid but not one he recognized. “Yes?”

“Darius, I bid you good morning, and I come in peace. There is no need to barricade yourself in your home from me. Your guardians will understand that I mean you no harm,” they said brightly, showing off rows of jagged teeth. Their skin and hair were pink as a flower as they stood with their arms behind their back. Nothing came to mind as Darius studied them.

“I don’t know you,” he said abruptly. It was the truth, and sometimes admitting the lack of knowing who they were insulted them.

“Yes, that is true. I do understand why you believe your lack of knowledge would make you unsafe. However, I am only a messenger, here to give you a message. Please relax.” The creature, who reminded Darius of a praying mantis with hands instead of pincers, dipped their head to the side and tried smiling sweetly and innocently. Like that would convince Darius to open the door.

“Fine, I’m relaxed. Who are you?”

“I am a messenger for his holiness, Lord Hastur. He wants me to congratulate you on a game well played. There were very few casualties this round, and his holiness is very impressed by that. The last time was a bit touch and go because of what happened to you and the Teumessian fox. But here you are, hale and hearty. We are thrilled with the end result.” The pink creature smiled once more as they batted their eyes at him.

“Well, isn’t this an honour. But I don’t care. I’m not buying what you’re selling. Please leave.” Darius pressed on the wood door, intent on locking the creature out.

“Darius, if you want to win the final session, you must hear the terms. You must listen to me. It is imperative,” the pink creature said loudly as they pushed against the door, their long nails digging deep into the painted wood. Darius growled, angered by the damage to his door and this fucking creature telling him what the fuck to do. He didn’t have to listen. Fuck everyone.

“I do not have to do anything. I am not your bitch or his bitch. I have my own plans.” Darius managed to shut the door firmly and sighed in relief as the lock engaged satisfactorily.

Curiosity had Darius glancing out the transom window and shrieking as black abyssal eyes met his. He tripped over Master Cat and cracked his head hard on the ceramic tile. His vision swam briefly, but he stayed conscious. Darius gave the messenger the finger and glared at them until they left the porch. Once he was sure they were gone, he lay back on the cool floor.

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