“All right, I have questions.”
This slipped from my lips as a carriage bore myself and Talia north from the city, onward to the estate this country’s newest Duke had received—an estate now known as the House of Fallmire.
It was morning. Talia had rented a suite in Black Harbor for the two of us to stay the night, along with her servant Richmond. We three slept separately, I’ll have you know.
And yes, my demand for answers had sprung from me earlier; but Talia had refused to elaborate in a place where “any idle ear could hear.” Her words, not mine.
I was being very patient, I tell you.
Talia looked up from the broadsheet she had collected from Black Harbor at the start of our journey north, her lips slightly parted as she nodded for me to continue.
“Well. Hm. Okay, first off, who are you? And why do you want to burn that city to the ground?”
This took Talia aback for half a moment. “I don’t—”
“Don’t give me that. I could sense the hatred broiling in you the moment you set foot in the Parlee-a-mint House.”
“You can sense—oh, and it’s Parliament, by the way,” she said, emphasizing the pronunciation. She was very polite about it. And yeah, Pallian is the worst, your vowels have three or four different sounds each!
Back to Talia. “You can sense... my anger?”
I nodded. “It’s died down since we started heading north, but yes. Who do you think you were summoning, a Imperial demon? I’m a succubus.”
The silence that followed that declaration spoke volumes. I could hardly believe it as I asked, “You don’t know what I am?”
“I’ve… heard the folklore,” Talia said. “You’re a succubus, a demon that deals in lust and other like sins.”
I let out a long sigh through my nose. So close, so far. “Well, right, um. That’s not entirely wrong. I am a succubus; I think older texts might call me a ‘female eccubus,’ and so I can sense and manipulate the emotions of others as easily as breathing.” I exaggerated a bit, yes, but this is basic stuff!
“Ah.” Talia nodded. “My father is... well, was, a demonologist. I think he was the last of his kind in the country.”
“He taught you nothing of demons?”
The pause that followed was filled with a silence altogether different than before. I felt a flare of hot anger, barely suppressed, leap within Talia’s heart. She managed, after a moment being quite unable to speak, “He died when I was fourteen.”
“Oh.” Right. That would do it. I decided to take a diplomatic tack. “I, uh, apologize for assuming.”
“Likewise,” Talia said, her attention drawn back to the broadsheet.
I leaned back in my seat as I studied Talia—Duke Talia Fallmire, Privateer Captain in her own words. Was she still a Captain, now that she’d been raised? Many such questions came up, though I’d learned more in the last minute than I had all of yesterday. This Duke was more ignorant of demons than I’d assumed—indeed, if she was correct about her father, most everyone in this country was similarly ignorant.
Perhaps I could…
Well, manipulation is always risky. But the chance for a powerful contract bathed in righteous, vengeful anger loomed large. I had to try.
“If I may, however...”
Talia looked up, eyes still touched with curiosity. “Yes?”
She clearly didn’t want to talk about her plans, but I could read between the lines. “Our contract, if I recall, will see me pose as your wife for, oh, three weeks at most. I’m fulfilling a technicality in your country’s law, if I am not very much untaken.”
“Mis– taken,” Talia corrected automatically. “And yes, in so many words, you are correct.” She folded the broadsheet and set it beside her on the plush cushion.
“Well,” and I paused to choose my next words carefully. “What if I could help you beyond those three weeks? You’re clearly set on revenge for... well, for something.” I suspected the obvious, that she sought justice for her father’s death—but it was not wise to assume on such a touchy subject. “I can help with that.”
Talia wasn’t taken in so easily as I hoped. “How would you benefit from this arrangement? And why would you presume I even need your help, from a demon who has not walked the face of Melodia in centuries?”
“Not even a single century, thank you. And two minds, working together, will fare far better than a single one. My skills may prove useful to you. I can influence the emotions of those around me, see into their hearts, and bend them to my will.” This was another exaggeration. But a small one, I assure you!
“You didn’t answer my question, Succubus Lucia,” Talia said. “What would you receive of this arrangement?”
“What do you know of demonic contracts?” I countered.
Talia considered for a moment. “I know the basics, I suppose. You are bound to fulfill certain duties, and are then released to return to the Abyssal Dream. Though there are plenty of tall tales floating around that imply far more.”
“That is pretty much true. But have you considered why demons like myself ever consent to such contracts?” I let the question hang just long enough before answering it. “Each and every contract we complete brings us power, increases our abilities. I am only so powerful because I’ve been successful in fulfilling the contracts of those who summon me.” I failed to mention my losing streak. A demon didn’t fall into a perfect chance for righteous vengeance every day.
“So, if you complete our current contract—”
“I will become a little more powerful. It’s a weak contract, but it’s something. If I assist in bringing your vengeance to fruition, though, I will gain so much more power.”
Talia nodded, satisfied for the moment. “I will think on it, little demon.”
“Please do, dearest wife,” I teased, a move that produced a long, delicious silence of an entirely new kind. I savored it well.
It was a minute before Talia spoke again. “I’ll need to know more about what you can do. Is there anything else you think important to add? Would you need to be able to see someone to influence their emotions, for instance? Or could you manipulate them remotely?”
I shook my head. “It’s not entirely dependent on sight, but that helps. Being close to my target is a must, however; I can’t really do much beyond a hundred feet or s—”
The carriage rumbled to a sudden halt, the jolt cutting me off. There were shouts outside. A slam reverberated against the side of the carriage, and there was a muffled cry of pain from the driver—Richmond, though I probably hadn’t remembered his name in that moment. I looked over to Talia, who was scrabbling beneath her seat for something.
Highway robbery. “Fuck,” I whispered. Not again.
The shouts subsided. Then, the carriage door cracked open, and the long barrel of a rifle peeked in. The voice that accompanied it was rough, in the manner of a country farmhand. “Hands where we can see ‘em, both of you. Out!”
I cannot emphasize how much fun it is to write in Lucia’s voice. Honestly, her characterization, and the ease with which I can slip into it, explains why I managed to finish this novel project so quickly the first time around. She’s a fucking delight.
And I can already see where the move to first person has elevated the prose—I thrive on writing dialog, and small asides like I was being very patient, I tell you, lets me have the same sort of fun outside quotation marks.
One piece of writing advice I’ve kept in mind is that writers should absolutely have fun with what they write—because that feeling is infectious. Of course, if the writer is working with heavy themes, “fun” might not be the right word; sometimes we read to feel a little sad, or a little scared, after all! But the feeling flowing through the writer during composition can absolutely be felt by a reader. Boredom is rarely a productive emotion in any genre.
I take it as a good sign that I’m having so much fun with this.
As I mentioned up top, a lot of this exposition was lifted from scenes that took place in the (relatively safe) Fallmire Manor. I think they function a little better here, sandwiched between the High Drama of Parliament and the sudden appearance of highwaymen.
Speaking of highway robbery, Chapter 4 will follow next week! I should have (at least half of) a spooky short story ready for Halloween in the meantime; keep an eye out for that!
And thanks so much for reading.
Here is the link to the Demon’s Rewrite introductory post. And here is the blog homepage, where you can find a list of all posted chapters in order (in addition to other blog posts that may take your fancy).
This is another chapter I wrote primarily during my second draft, though plenty of the exposition was lifted from earlier scenes that originally took place in Fallmire Manor.
Let’s get to it!