The Miscreants of Xiphoid Camp [NOT UPDATING CURRENTLY]

» 2131 « Chapter 22 - In the cold of the night

The demon king pulled the darkness close around him like a cloak and strode quickly across the deserted campgrounds and to the cabin with the vibrant purple door. He stood at the window and squinted into the dark, still cabin. Ah. There he was. He gave the window three sharp taps.

The boy in the bottom bunk began to stir. He tapped the window again, and the boy lifted his head and turned to look directly at him.

He seemed to understand at once and slipped out of bed and disappeared.

Malvolio stepped away from the window and let the cloak fall away. The shadows flew off back to their sources, arcing and racing just above the snow's surface and vanishing into the night.

"Hello," came a voice at his elbow.

And there was the boy.

"Hello," Malvolio echoed.

The boy's inky black hair was mussed and his eyes were half-lidded. he yawned widely. "What do you want?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.

"To converse," Malvolio said. "I understand you've been investigating my kind?"

"I have," the boy said. "Have you been stalking me or something?" He sounded very relaxed about the whole idea that a vicious demon may have been watching his every move. Malvolio was continually fascinated by this boy.

"Why, how did you ever come to that assumption?" Malvolio said, bone-dry.

"Proper mad, I am," the boy said sleepily.

"Why, of course you are," Malvolio said, because what else was there to say?

"We've been researching scants, me and Marcus. We know all about them now. You can't hide from us," the boy said, smiling like a reptile.

"Ah, yes. This Marcus character, what is he to you?"

"Enemy. Can't stand him one bit," the boy said immediately.

"I see. And what am I to you?"

"Don' know," the boy mumbled, "hardly know you, do I? You could be anyone to me, I don't know, nobody knows,"

Malvolio laughed softly. "That reminds me of an old song I used to know," he said. "Doubtful that you would know it,"

"Try me," the boy said, "I know more than you'd expect,"

"All right, then," Malvolio said. "Now my brother lies upon the rocks, he could be dead, he could be not," he murmured, watching the boy closely. "he could be you; he's chameleon, comedian, Corinthian and caricature." He had not thought of that song in a long time, not since he had seen it performed live nearly a hundred and thirty years ago.

"That's a funny song," the boy said.

"It's by David Bowie," Malvolio told him. "He died a long, long time ago." And what a tragedy that had been. He almost regretted having brought it about.

"Oh," the boy said. "I've never heard of him,"

"Many people haven't. History has a way of erasing people, no matter how wonderful or important or brilliant they may be. You would do well to remember that,"

"Whatever. Do you have any cool superpowers?"

"Pardon?"

"Can you fly?" It was a marvel, how quickly the boy changed topics.

"If I want to,"

"That's impressive. Can you turn yourself invisible?"

"Certainly,"

"Can I see?"

"No." He was getting tired of this.

"Lame. Why can't I see?"

"Because I said so," Malvolio sighed. "Satan's spawn, I sound like a parent,"

"Can you tell me more about Scants?" the boy asked. He was truly adept at rapidly changing the course of conversation. Maddening, it was.

"What do you want to know?"

"They're really dangerous, right? Can they be killed?"

"Not by magic, but by blade, yes."

"Oh, okay—magic?"

"Oh, dear, I've said too much," Malvolio said, putting a hand over his mouth.

"No! tell me more! Why magic? I thought only demons could do magic!"

The shadows dashed back across the campground and curled around the demon king. "Until we meet again," he said, pulling the cloak around himself and fleeing into the night.

Avior did not go back inside. He did not think he could. this was the sort of discovery that simply begged to be thought about alone, in the darkness and cold. Wow, it was cold. Avior sat with his back against the cabin's wall and pulled his knees tight to his chest. He gazed out across the path and was both thrilled and frightened by the fact that the darkness was so absolute one could just barely see the dim outline of Octavo, which sat directly across from Tertius.

Ha. He'd bet none of those people knew what he did, about demons, about magic, and about the tiny hidden parts of the world he kept stumbling across. How wonderful it was, to know more than everyone else!

The door creaked open and Nicolas stepped outside.

"Avior?" he called.

How disappointing. The fun was over.

"Behind you, you numpty," he said.

Was the world full of magic?