A Scripta

With his athame*, Grimaulkin probed the edge of the summoning circle and got shocked for his trouble. The only thing inside it was a set of chains in a long, loopy circle at the perimeter.

He began the chant to summon his demoness there, and she appeared, in the form of a beautiful red-skinned, red-winged, naked woman, suspended in the air. "What do you wish now - " then she noticed the chains.

As she attempted to leave, she found that Grim had uttered something in the spell to lock her into the circle. She flittered back and forth, trying to keep within the center, away from the chains.

"Zoreteth," he said quietly, though it boomed within the circle, "be still."

She dropped to the earth. "How dare you!" she cried. "Who told you?! When I am free I will tear them - "

Grimaulkin ignored her as he continued the spell, pointing the athame at the chains. "Bind Zorteth tight, bind her unto me."

"NEVER!" she howled, her voice attempting to break through Grim's concentration. His thoughts centered entirely on watching the chains rise of their own volition and wrap themselves around the suspended body. She struggled as the chains climbed up, wrapping themselves haphazardly around her, even looping around her wings.

The last link left the floor and tucked itself into her waist, sealing itself with the other open link. She began to glow a bright, almost angry yellow.

"What do you expect to get from me, mage? I have given you power and spells, even your brother! Am I not generous?"

"Bound thou art to me," he replied with a smile. "I take thy power from thee, not bend to thy will; thou shalt bend to mine, Zoreteth. Thy host of underlings art mine. Thy power is mine. Thy knowledge is mine. Thy soul is mine. Thy soul..." He took the athame, held it by its blade as if he was going to throw it. "IS MINE!"

He threw the blade through the boundaries of the summoning circle, and it pierced the center of the demoness's chest. She howled in agony, the yellow growing brighter; the athame turned black and slowly the chain wrapped itself around it as well. Slowly, she disappeared.

As the last of her faded away, the knife fell, clattering to the floor. He did not touch the chain-encased black blade, leaving it there as if it were still hot from the forge. He summoned Louie instead. "Take that and put it in the desk."

Louie looked at his brother, doing as he commanded. Grim could feel rather than hear the word "Free?"

He grinned at the shade. "Are you kidding?" He passed through Louie and turned instantly into his old self. "You'll kill me." Then he laughed, falling over, his laugh becoming more maniacal as Louie mournfully put the dagger in the desk.

*athame: a blade, usually a dagger, that is used to direct a witch's power. Can be used interchagably with a wand.