Author's Preface
Grimjaw: Ummm…sure. My name is Teblot Grimjaw. I was once an Archon for the Church of the Mother Below, where my focus was primarily on the study and combat of the forces of the Hells. I was eventually ostracized from the church and hired as a professor of demonology at Aether Nexus.
Solana: You need not go into detail if you do not wish, but do you mind us asking why you were ostracized?
Grimjaw: Of course not, it’s all public record. I developed a method of exorcism that veered from what was written in our Revered Texts. It was, however, far more likely to both succeed and leave the previously inhabited person in a salvageable state. So, they branded me a blasphemer and kicked me out.
Merkra: So they gave you the boot for being better than them at what they are supposed to be experts at.
Grimjaw: Essentially.
Merkra: Pricks.
Solana: We were not able to speak at length before we started recording. Are you at all familiar with the story we are telling?
Grimjaw: I have a basic understanding of the Deviltouched. Admittedly, I’m not history buff, but I listened to your first two episodes before coming on. Truly dark days.
Merkra: Oh yeah, we were hoping you could shed some light on a few things for us. There are some glaringly obvious ones that are much closer to what you do, but since we’re talking about exorcisms, do you have any idea how someone would just erase memories from someone?
Grimjaw: Ahh…you’re referring to Fletcher? It’s an interesting question, and there may be some parallels. I can only relate it to what I’ve experienced in my work. There are times post-exorcism where the vacated will suffer from what modern medicine calls post-traumatic stress. Thoughts that they can’t get out of their head. Memories sometimes. In these situations, I’ve heard of divine healers who can remove or adjust those invasive thoughts. Our Mother Below has not seen it necessary to grant me that power, so I can’t speak to it personally, however.
“Excellent work, Yasha!”
Penelope bounced, clapping her hands even as her heart raced watching the little girl. Yasha leapt from one barely existent handhold to the next, chasing a black cat up the castle walls. The feline perched on a windowsill and glanced down at her as it stretched and yawned.
Forty feet off the ground, Yasha was exceeding every expectation she’d had. With the help of her potion and Virinax’s ritual, the girl had surpassed even the strongest of the Deviltouched children and rivaled those in their teens, though she was barely larger than Penelope herself.
She leapt again, this time fingers slipping from stone.
Penelope’s heart seized, and she darted to where Yasha plummeted, but met a swirling gust that swooped up from the ground. It knocked her onto her ass only to cradle the child halfway through her descent and place her on the ground with the care of a gentle parent. She’d controlled the air beneath her to catch her. Goose pimples shot across her skin at the thought.
“I’m sorry.” Yasha frowned and offered a hand to help her up. “I didn’t catch the cat.”
“Sorry?” Penelope’s stretched maw coughed out a laugh, and she wrapped the girl in a tight embrace. “Yasha, that was amazing. Where did you learn that?”
The child looked at her confused. “Learn what?”
“The wind. It caught you.”
“Oh that was…” She paused, gaze fluttering up above Penelope’s head for a moment before fixing back on her. “It just came to me.”
“You are so strong.” Penelope cupped her face, squeezing it. “You make me more and more proud every day.”
“Thank you.” She smiled, but her vision had focused over her head again. “Mr. Gregor is coming.”
Penelope let go of the girl and glanced over her shoulder. The field was empty, but that didn’t mean Gregor wasn’t there. How the girl could sense him coming was beyond her, but she’d learned not to question it. Penelope just assumed that when she needed Gregor, he was always there, and was right more often than not.
As predicted, the red-scaled saurien appeared from nothingness mid-stride and stopped to bow his head to her.
“M-Mistress.” Gregor hissed. “T-the unit you sent to r-recover the crystal has returned, and I’ve b-brought you the doctor.”
So efficient. She really must give Gregor more praise. Penelope turned back to Yasha and gently touched the curling horns near her ear.
“I’ve got some business to attend to, so Gregor is going to take you to visit Terran for a little while, okay? Play with the other kids, just keep an eye out. Never let your guard down.”
“I won’t.” Yasha made a stern face and leaned down to press her forehead against Penelope’s.
“That’s my girl. Go have fun.”
Gregor escorted Yasha to the other side of the courtyard while Penelope headed out of the castle. Doctor Sarfiel could wait, she needed to check the state of the crystal they were able to recover. She’d sent twenty Deviltouched to clear out the cave and bring back the dragon’s heart, but watching them emerge from the small village at the port…something obviously hadn’t gone to plan.
“Where is my crystal?” Penelope’s grin seemed to slice higher onto her cheeks, muscles in her neck tensing. They carried nothing with them but their gear. No one was injured. Not a hair out of place.
A nervous young man stepped ahead of the group, though his eyes remained locked on the ground near her boots. “The dragon was dead already when we got there. The crystal was gone.”
Penelope cocked her head to the side, a growl crawling up her throat. “What do you mean it was already dead?”
“Someone had beheaded it?” The statement came out like a pleading question. “Its scales were scorched and the crustal had been removed.”
Nostrils flared, lip twitching, Penelope stared at the young man who still had refused to look up at her. “You want me to believe that two Deviltouched that are miles more powerful than the lot of you failed to kill the thing, but when you arrived it had been beheaded and looted?”
Black smoke shot from her fingertips. Tendrils spread across the gravel road until they wrapped around the young man’s limbs and lifted him into the air.
“Is that what you’re telling me?” She snarled at him.
“Y-yes ma’am.” The grunt squealed out, thrashing in the air trying to free himself from her gaseous grip.
Failure is not acceptable.
She clenched her fists, the lines of thick gas extending from them pulsed. They extended from his limbs, tightening until they found his nose and eyes. As he opened his mouth to scream, the jet black fumes swallowed the sound. Penelope held him in the air for far longer than she needed to, shaking with fury, but determined to make her point. When she opened her palm again, the man fell to the ground with a lifeless crunch.
“We’ll uhh…” One of the other from the contingent spoke up, but didn’t move. “We’ll go back, and see if we can track down the crystal.”
Penelope glared at the woman, wild grin still stretched far too wide. “Clean this mess up first.” She kicked gravel at the body. Her eyes flared, and she spun to head back to the castle before planting her feet and spinning again. “You!” She snapped at the woman. “There should have been another Deviltouched there. Probably extra crispy.”
The woman shook her head. “No ma’am. There were several bodies, but none of ours.”
Penelope’s lip twitched, nostrils flaring. That wasn’t correct. Unless the damned dragon ate him. “Gut whatever’s left of the dragon. I don’t care if its bone ash. Confirm the dragon killed one of ours.” She turned on a heel and stormed off.
After a few deep breaths, the stomping fury faded, and she pranced the remainder of the way to the dungeon. Gerard stood from his seat behind a desk when she entered. The cool stone walls normally echoed the occasional plea of prisoners, but it had been woefully silent of late.
“Penelope.” Gerard bowed his head. “I’ve examined Doctor Sarfiel. I couldn’t find any damage done, but he genuinely doesn’t seem to remember anything. He’s even forgotten your taking the child he delivered.”
Her lip started to twitch again, but she sucked in a deep breath and shook it off. “What do you mean? He’s an old man, can’t you just give him a little…” She wiggled her fingers at him, mimicking his abilities in an admittedly insulting fashion.
Gerard opened his mouth, paused, then licked his lips and looked down at the book he’d been writing in. “I tried. Not remembering isn’t right. It’s like he…like it was never there at all,” he stammered out.
What was happening today? Were these people trying to die?
“I don’t understand. I was the one who took Yasha from his hands. You’re telling me someone dug that memory out his mind and tossed it?” Penelope’s grinning lips closed, whole body shaking with rage. She stomped down the hall to the cell the old doctor was being held in and threw the cell door open.
“Oh my!” Reggius Sarfiel’s eyes went wide as he recoiled back on his bench. “Umm…hello. Can you tell me why I’m here, young lady?”
“Doctor Sarfiel,” She took in a deep breath to stop the shaking and reached up to pull her curls into a poofy ponytail. “It’s so good to see you again.”
“I’m sorry? Have we met?” His freckled, wrinkled face scrunched up as he examined her.
Penelope nodded. “My doctor said you’d gone a little foggy.” She hopped onto the bench he sat on and walked over to him. Squatting down after invading his personal space, she leaned in close. “Let’s see if we can’t figure out why that is.” She said, using two fingers to prod his temple.