Page 2 of Becoming Effrijim
I pursed my lips as I thought about it. I couldn’t see much of a downside. For one, if I left the Court, I could adopt whatever form I wanted. Visions of a dashing, beefy hunting dog rose in my mind’s eye, and I could almost feel the wind in my attractive fur as I ran through the forest, hunting things, eating whatever I wanted, helping mortals, letting them feed me fine meats and cheeses, traveling anywhere that took my fancy, discovering new foods ... in other words, finding my own way rather than being tied down to a bunch of stuffy Court rules.
“It sounds good,” I said slowly. “I like the part about renown. But I’d have to talk to Camio first.”
“Who?”
“Camio. She’s my friend. We’ve known each other since I was a wee little sprite, and she was a brand-new shiny demon sixth class. She’s fourth class now, and has her eyes set on becoming a wrath demon, although frankly, I don’t think she’s mean enough for that. She also thinks I should switch to a dog form.” I added the last bit just to drive home the point, but Hildegarde sucked in about half the air in the garden, rising as she did so with one finger jabbing at me.
“You are consorting with a demon?” Her voice, normally a bit screechy, lifted at least an octave until it hurt my ears. I quickly got to my feet and backed up a few steps, wary in case she decided to change me into something gross, like a slug. Or a newt. Or a wild boar.
“Not consorting,” I said with my hands up to make sure they weren’t turning into hooves or whatever sort of feet a newt had, glancing around for a quick exit should it be needed. “We’re not a couple, if that’s what you mean. She’s my friend, my oldest friend. I’ve known her for my entire six hundred years, give or take a decade. But we’re not romantic, because ew.”
Hildegarde narrowed her eyes at me. “Do you dislike women?”
“You mean why am I not trying to woo Camio? She’s like a sister to me. I don’t have a problem with the female human form itself. The breasts look fun. Now, the male form? It’s downright depressing. There’s hair where you least expect it, and everything flops around and makes it difficult to sit, and the smells! The smells alone threaten to bring me to my knees, and I’d never inflict that on an intimate partner. Not even for a chance at fun female breasts.”
“The fact remains that you have been consorting with a denizen of Abaddon, a demon who serves one of the princes. That is not at all allowed. If you choose to remain in the Court, your relationship—such as it is—with the demon must come to an end. I will not have it said that the Court supports anything to do with Abaddon.”
I could swear she sniffed at the end of the statement.
“There was that time that the Court got involved with the vampire kings who tried to take down the demon lords—” I started to point out, but she stopped me with another one of her scary looks.
“We do not support anyone with ties to Abaddon,” she said in a louder tone. “It is a well-known rule, and not one that I will allow you to violate. The choice is yours, however. You may remain if you wish, but it has become clear to me that the Fates have something else in mind for you rather than the life of a humble sprite. You may have until sext tomorrow to make a decision about which path you wish to take.”
Humility is so not me. And I couldn’t deny that it was an intriguing idea that somewhere, there was a better existence just waiting for me to discover it. “Something else like a chivalric tale? I’m not really looking for a woman, but I like the idea of having dashing adventures and daring escapades.”
She brushed a spot of dirt off her surcoat. “The vision I had did not speak of what goal you sought, only that you were at a crossroads and must choose a path. I feel obligated to share that knowledge with you, since your constant antics indicate your unhappiness with life here at the Court.”
I considered protesting my unhappiness, but when I thought about it, I had to admit she had a point. I’d been at the Court since my mother died at my birth, and although I’d never met her, everyone here seemed to expect that I’d be just like her.
I so was not like her.
But did that mean I was willing to leave the Court? The answer was there even before the thought finished forming. Who could refuse the life of excitement when the only other option was boring spritedom? I’d definitely take Hildegarde up on her offer to head out on my own, and wondered if the other sprites would throw me a leaving party with the strawberry cakes I loved so much.
“Hey,” I said, suspicion dawning suddenly. “You wouldn’t be trying to get rid of me, would you? It’s because of that note I put in the suggestion chest, isn’t it? It wasn’t aimed at you, I swear. The uprising of lesser sprites, cherubs, and powers who tried to kick you out of the Court was just an unfortunate coincidence. I didn’t have anything to do with them. Much. Sure, I painted a few signs and designed a couple of protest tunics, and yeah, I was part of the march on your tower, but I didn’t set fire to the internal staircase. All I did was try to light a wall torch. It’s a shame the whole tower burned. Er ... did I say happy anniversary? Running the Court for three hundred years is a pretty slick achievement.”
“Sext,” was all she replied, but the word shot from between clenched teeth with the velocity of a behemoth on a catapult.
I took another step back, covertly checking myself to make sure she hadn’t done anything beyond sending me a glare so potent that it would have dropped me if I’d been mortal, and watched silently as she marched off, her hair streaming behind her.
A couple of hours later, I sat in a small room off the cherubs’ dormitory, the quietest spot I could find. I rubbed my chin with the feather on a new quill for a few minutes while I thought about what I was going to say, then ran a hand over the vellum to make sure I had suitably scraped it.
Greetings to my friendful Camio.
I hope this missive finds you well. Or, you know, as well as you can be, considering you live and work in Abaddon, and your boss is an actual prince of evil bent on bringing the mortal world to its knees in anguished supplication. I’d like to insert a statement here about my own boss being mean, but I have a feeling that any message I send out will be examined what with the whole fiasco involving Hildegarde’s tower burning, and losing all the documents of her reign, and the way the uprising sprites and cherubs ratted me out.
So! Hilders mentioned today that she thinks I have great things in my future. Really big things like adventures and romance and daring acts and all that shite. She’s going to de-sprite me so I can go be the best me ever, and I’m thinking it’s time to try out some of the dog forms I mentioned in my last letter.
Since I’m going to be at a loose end for a bit, I thought we could meet and spend some time together. I don’t mind if it’s in Abaddon, if you can’t leave. You know me—I’m fine with demonkind.
Let me know what you think, and what entrance to Abaddon you want to meet at. And which dog form you think I should have.
Kisses,
Jim
DAY 161
Harvest Time
