The Parisian Codex

25 - The Contract

The locksmith arrived, all tattoos out, his shaven head glistening with rain.

"Well, they sure went to a lot of trouble! What do you keep in there?" he exclaimed as he discovered the door ripped off its hinges and the doorframe out of order.

"My office," I said.

"In a cellar?"

"The rent's cheaper that way."

The man nodded and mumbled something about the price of a square foot in the 1st arrondissement. Kitten emerged from the back of the room to sniff the newcomer. Seemingly satisfied, the cat perched himself on a shelf and set about monitoring operations.

"I've brought you a catalog," the man said, handing it to me. "If you decide on a model tonight, I can place the order tomorrow morning."

"Don't you have anything in stock? I don't want to stay like this for weeks."

"I'll tell you what: tomorrow I'll order your reinforced door, and in the meantime I'll install a normal door. It won't stand up to the savages who've already visited, but it'll close, and we'll fit a lock."

"Speaking of locks, I'll also need one on the door to my bed ... archive room. I'll install it myself."

The locksmith raised his eyebrows but made no comment.

He set about measuring the doorway, and I opened the catalog. Reinforced doors were like local rents, far too expensive for my taste. I ended up choosing a basic model, warned the locksmith that he wouldn't see me the next morning, and replaced the metal cupboard after the craftsman left. Kitten climbed down from the shelf and wrapped himself around my ankles, purring.

"Are you tired of living without a door, too? I'll create some magical protection for us. It won't do anything for Bel, but it'll stop Zagan from coming in without an invitation."

I dug out a black marker and moved the metal cupboard in the middle of the room to clear the entrance to the office. I knelt at the foot of the doorframe and set to work on the bottom of the wall. Kitten followed me and sniffed at the signs my marker was drawing on the stone.

The porous surface was far from ideal, and once my final door was installed, I'd have to go back with a hammer and chisel. My marker threw in the towel after a few yards of inscriptions, and I continued with graphite.

Kitten had finally got bored. Perched on my desk, he groomed himself and watched me.

I finished by tracing my inscriptions on the doorframes and above the lintel. All that remained was to activate the magical barrier.

I took out my penknife to slash the tip of my left thumb and nearly cut off a finger when a voice startled me.

"It works better with the blood of a living being."

Zagan stood on the other side of the threshold, still in Olga's body. I should have heard her ridiculous stiletto heels on the stairs, but...

I looked down at the demon's feet and discovered a pair of black après-ski boots. The legs protruding from them were molded in leggings of the same color. My gaze moved up to the demon's torso, clad in an equally black turtleneck and an orange parka.

"Have you been shopping?" I said in a tone that, I hoped, concealed the fright that the demon's appearance had triggered.

"Your little witch is right. Dressed as I was, I was attracting a little too much attention. May I come in?"

"No, you may not. I haven't finished yet."

I nicked my left index finger and dripped a few drops of blood onto my right palm. I placed my bloody palm on the lintel inscription and declaimed: "Ten Thuran!"