Of course, it was dangerous. Not so much because of the demons, but because of fellow humans. Too noisy, and they would attract the attentions of demon hunters.
Eventually, such a thing wouldn’t be a concern. They would become powerful enough to defend themselves. A handful of students, all able to order multiple demons into battle, would wipe the floor with most assailing forces.
Unfortunately, that would be far off, relatively speaking. There were–Martina glanced down at one of the reports–a mere eight students remaining in the current class. None of them had formed any kind of proper contract yet.
For the time being, Martina would have to rely on herself, Catherine, the security force, and Zagan. And Zagan was far from reliable.
After his antics involving the missing students, Martina was almost doubling the priority of finding a way to dismiss him without winding up killed herself.
Aside from them, Eva had a small contingent of demons following her. A force that she might be inclined to use to help out the academy in the face of danger. But, like Zagan, Martina did not find the young diabolist reliable in the slightest.
Martina started as her door opened with a click.
Catherine hadn’t said a word.
Slacking again?
Martina shook her head, shaking off both the unexpected arrival and the missing Catherine.
Obviously she was off tending to her class, thereby allowing Anderson to walk in unannounced.
There goes my good mood for the day.
Anderson never brought good news.
“Something I can do for you, Mr. Anderson?”
He took a moment to dally about the entrance of her room. Removing his coat and hat, placing them on the rack, and then straightening out his suit gave him plenty of time to change up what he wanted to say based on who was in the room. He had a markedly different personality whenever Zagan was present.
It also meant that he was planning on staying for some time.
With a barely concealed groan, Martina reached down into her desk and withdrew a second glass. She tipped it in his direction, a silent question.
He, thankfully, shook his head. “No thank you, Martina. I’m here on business. Afterwards, I must depart for a meeting with the other governors.”
“Suit yourself,” she said as she replaced the glass. The less Hellfire liquor she had to waste on others, the better. “This business?”
He didn’t appear outwardly angry with her. That was good at least. Ever since he had shown up talking about two missing students, they hadn’t been on the best of terms.
Or rather, Martina was fairly certain that she only managed to keep her job through being the one holding Zagan’s contract.
“Unpleasant,” he said.
Of course it is, Martina thought.
“The Elysium Order has suspended operations in North America.”
Martina winced. “The entire continent? I was unaware that we had such a large impact on them.”
“One of our other ‘test runs’ down south may have had a brief run in with them as well. But this has two direct implications, neither pleasant and both affecting Brakket.
“First and most obvious, the pressure on everything they hunt will be off.”
“And that includes necromancers. Including the one that attacked the academy twice.” Martina reached out to her glass and took a long drink. “Why did they have to announce it? This is only going to make their job harder when they restart their crusade. Vampires will be out of control. Liches too. Even ones that aren’t here already will be looking to move to where the Elysium Order is not.”
“As of this time, the Elysium Order has submitted several bounties to the Royal Guild of Mage-Knights. Time will tell how effective the guild is in keeping undead under control.
“More importantly, they explicitly cited demonic interference as their reason for suspending operations.”
Martina froze mid drink.
That was… bad.
Downing the rest of her Hellfire in a single gulp, Martina slammed the glass on the desk, shattering it. She swept the shards off of her desk, ignoring the small cuts she got on her hand.
“Any two-bit hunter will easily be able to glance at recent Elysium deployments and make guesses at what they are talking about.”
“Indeed,” he said. “Keep your head down. Act like everything is normal. Gather students as usual and continue with the program. The others have agreed, given Zagan’s revelation, the program must continue. A handful of hunters aren’t going to save us from an apocalypse.”
Martina grit her teeth.
Anderson had stood up, but she was only scarcely paying attention.
The stooges of the board of governors now thought diablery lessons were a good idea? Just a few months ago, they were considering terminating the project.
Saving the world? Is that what they expect of me? Even ten thousand diabolists wouldn’t be capable of stopping an uncountable number of demons. And she had eight? Assuming no more dropped out, that is.
Well, it will certainly get me in the history books, Martina thought. If there’s anyone left to write them, that is.
Martina shook her head. Problems for later. For now, she had more immediate problems.
Hunters.
As if sensing her thoughts, Anderson glanced back over his shoulder. “I’ve put in motion a handful of projects that should keep the hunters off your back for a time. Hunters will find pockets of demons suddenly popping up all around the country. But don’t count on it occupying them for long. Sooner or later, someone will look into Brakket.” He plucked his bowler from the rack and placed it on his head, adjusting it side to side, slightly. “Be prepared.”
Martina scoffed as he walked out the door. “Be prepared,” she mocked.
Easy to say.
But what to do?
Pulling her spare glass from her desk, Martina started to pour herself a new glass. Halfway through, she stopped.
She drank straight from the bottle until it was half empty.
“I think I need more security personnel.”
— — —
Laughter.
Maniacal laughter.
It was about all she had heard in the recent weeks. Enough to drive her insane.
“It’s a gift,” her father shouted. Fingers stained purple, her father held up what she would guess was a heart. She had seen plenty of hearts in her life. Most came from humans, but she had dissected animals under the strict guidance of her father numerous times before moving on to humans.
The blob of meat held in her father’s hand was far too smooth and spherical to be a proper heart. The only imperfections that she could see from the neighboring table were the arteries and veins that jutted from the orb.
“A genuine boon from a Power,” her father continued, grin stretching from ear to ear.
Des wanted to ask just what he was talking about, but her father had yet to see fit to remove the stitchings binding her mouth closed. Left only to watch and speculate, Des spent most of her time waiting for the next outburst of a discovery to help fill in what exactly he was so excited about.
She didn’t have to wait for long. If there was one thing her father loved, it was talking while working.
“Look,” he shoved the heart straight over her face.
Up close, Des could see the pulsating flesh as the heart beat in his hand. As experienced as she was, she didn’t feel the need to count the heartbeats. It should have already stilled based on how long her father had held it in his hands.
Yet it wasn’t even slowing.
“The magic does not merely animate the whole, as is the case with zombies, skeletons, and such. It animates everything. And I can not stop it.”
He spun back around to face the body lying on the other table, laughing as he turned.
“Watch the panel, honey.”
Des strained her neck. A panel of lights sat at the head of the table. Her father had designed it to connect to a subject’s brain through wires and monitor activity. In this case, however, the creature’s brain was no longer attached to the creature’s body. It sat on a small shelf, wires running into it.