For obvious reasons, there was no real common knowledge on how demons could be dealt with. It was the type of thing decent people avoided even learning about, if they could help it. Some said even knowing was an ill omen—that in simply having information, you were opening some sort of gate within yourself that demons could access if you crossed their path.
Nikola thought it superstition—most people’s exposure to the supernatural was limited, magic experienced only in ways that were relevant to their individual lives. That type of thinking promoted wild mass guessing—because people knew details about magic, they started to act as though they knew details about all magic. They applied rules and conventions that would only apply to a little, to the whole of it.
Certainly, there were things you would likely wish to avoid knowing about for your own sake—and that was precisely why such things wouldn’t be getting such a direct warning about how you shouldn’t learn about them. That would have been about as efficient as telling people not to think about not to think about pink elephants.
Not that demons weren’t dangerous. They were the closest thing in this world to a universal source of magic, for everything that held value in an occult sense could trace its origin to the actions of one demon or another.
It went without saying that demons could crush anything within they got dominion over with but a thought, and the only reason humanity did not live crushed under their heels was the mere fact that they lacked physical forms. Vessels were the closest they would ever get to that, and those were mostly a set point through which their suppliers would deliver sacrifices.
“You lied,” Nikola repeated, not entirely convinced he hadn’t somehow misheard. “You went and lied to the demon.”
“I fully intended to deliver upon that which I offered, at the time,” Edmund insisted. “Through my alchemy, I would ensure the demon’s art became known throughout the world. I had plans to hire glassworkers, bind them to secrecy, even. We spoke for a long time, when the demon was whole. We settled for a simple request on my side—the fountain. That, and it changed me itself, in the same ways the fountain changed Maria and the kids. Though I reiterate I would rather not touch upon the how, it may be necessary context to mention that we… understood its hunger. And none of us were artists. I’ll leave it at that, for it mattered not when it came to keeping the demon fed. As my plans to roll out the new, demon-touched potions, adorned with care by one not from this world, I fed it with blood. Sacrifices. I know Maria suspected, even then, but she never had the full picture. I told them the fountain had been looted from the castle, where so many perished, and that it came with the warning that should we stop partaking in its waters, we would be hellbound. They needn’t know more than that.”
Nikola tried to recall the ghost’s exact words, when he had earlier spoken of how it came to be at odds with the very demon who’d made him what he’d been. “And your falling-out with it?”
“It so happened to be the type of demon that saw even the richest of drawn last blood to be a treat, at most. A fine wine to accompany meals, perhaps imbibed upon alone, but only in moderation. It wanted renown, the spread of its work. No amount of blood could satisfy it. And I… We both said things we could not take back, and this was after I’d grown to think of it as a friend of mine—foolish, I know.”
“It is quite sobering to learn even the best can fall prey to human nature. That instinctive urge to form bonds,” Nikola mused to himself. “I gather you were not eager to rush to feed the demon in its preferred way.”
“No. As much as it pains me to phrase it this way, it hadn’t the faintest clue as to how the logistics of elixir distribution work when you’re an alchemist with clients all over the world. It thrived in a time and place where its reach was relatively limited, and it could not adapt its worldview to the modern world. It rushed me, ever so impatient, as if I could somehow rush bureaucracy even more than I normally did.”If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.
The ghost flexed his fingers as if gripping something unseen. “When we left the temple, I shaved away a shard of ice. That was how I got it out. And here, the well became its vessels, turning its contents to icy waters. I worked the drawing of water from the well into the process for the fountain’s maintenance without alluding to it, and when the time came, I exorcised it. As I had with the ice, I carved a piece of it to keep, when it chose to flee rather than let me complete the ritual I had in mind. I used a cask of diamond and silver, to trap the piece. Unthinking, I believed it to be. Now, I am not so sure.”
“Because of how this… piece fled the well, as you said?”
“Yes,” Edmund Adianoeta met his gaze. “Answer earnestly—is there anything that speaks to you? Anything you feel or think that you doubt should belong to you?”
Maybe. “I do not believe so.”
Nikola’s confidence in that answer being the wisest was twofold—for one, he did not feel particularly eager to imply anything that might lead the occultist, dead or not, to consider him a possible threat. And beyond that, if he did have a potentially sapient piece of a demon lodged within himself, he was not about to be foolish enough to shout that from the roofs.
He doubted he did, however. It might have been conceit, but he liked to imagine such a thing would have been obvious to him.
“Good,” the ghost replied, though he did not appear entirely convinced. “Have my answers satisfied you?”
“They were satisfactory,” Nikola conceded. As much as he would have loved to keep the ghost talking and never return to the manor or be involved with the living Adianoetas, he knew that was not a possibility. “What now?”
“We’ll return to the well, and you’re going to jump in for me.”
“No, absolutely not,” Nikola replied reflexively.
“It is naught but mundane water now. But I will need the well, to bind the piece anew. I’ll bring the fountain back, with all bells and whistles, after I give Maria an earful. For your part, there’s not much you need to do—just aid me in freeing your friend from the dungeons.”
“You need Benjamin for this?” Nikola might not have focused on the biggest concern.
“Most of the sacrifices’ power was bound in a picture, burned to bring me back,” Edmund explained. “I will similarly need to capture an image once I draw the piece out of you, to ensure it does not finish fleeing. And for that, I require the photographer.”
Nikola raised an eyebrow. “Did you not say you have qualms about binding something that was aware?”
“I can have qualms about something and still do it—often do, if nothing else.”
He supposed that was fair.
Edmund shook his head. “Chances are, I will have to get some assurances out of Maria, that she keep you from harm. The process itself should not harm you. All will return to the way it was—and my family will live.”
“And you will return to that limbo of yours?”
“No,” a wave of yearning somehow crossed the ghost’s glowing gaze. “I cheated fate out of its due once—that shan’t work a second time. If I succeed, chances are, this will end with the energy that holds me here being returned to the well, to the piece. And as the fountain is restored, I will be left untethered. I knew hell awaited me—and I’ve put it off for long enough. I certainly shall not avoid to the detriment of my family, for all I will ensure they know and live with the knowledge that this was their fault. Solely their fault.”
Nikola could only nod, if a bit hesitantly. “How do we go about this? I assume you’ll handle the details? Forgive me, but I know precious nothing about your estate, let alone how to free Benjamin from this dungeon unaided.”
“I will handle things, yes,” Edmund agreed. He looked off to the side. “We’ve precious few hours left—high noon should be the best time to move, while eat.”
“Will they be keeping to a schedule considering… well, everything that has transpired?”
“Oh, they will. The sky could be falling and my wife would still have everything running smoothly,” the ghost spoke, seeming fond of Maria for once. “One thing I recommend—rest. Even if you do not feel inclined to. You will need full use of your faculties, for the task at hand.”