Summoned A Hundred Years Too Late

Tide, Blood, Desire, Shadow, Disease, Decay, those are the domains of the six Demons.

While the exact nature of demons is debated, we know they are capable of blessing their followers. Though not all of them, as they are not so generous.

Excerpt from Demonology, by Alfred Dumries, Keeper of the Iron Ink.

“Who?” Alexandra repeated, keeping her voice low and body hugging the recessed doorway.

Louis looked at her. “Merinus. One of the Wardens I was telling you about. The kind that’s looking for me, and that I don’t want to find me.”

She nodded, and made herself small.

The voices of the men drifted toward them. “Maret’s a scammer. To dare pricing his shitty potions so high when alchemical supplies are in abundance.”

“Shut up. He’s the only alchemist in the city, the boss will kill us if we piss that guy off.”

Silence, then steps on the cobblestones.

“Anyway, I don’t want to speak to him again. Take someone else with you next time.”

“That’s why you can’t take the next step,” a third voice said. “Coward.”

That voice…

“I’m not…” The steps stopped. “I’m not afraid of that scrawny dealer. He just makes me mad. That smug smile…”

“Yeah, right.”

“Trust the boss, and the reward will come,” the third voice continued, walking away. Alexandra focused, trying to make sure she wasn’t mistaken. “On another note, there are two interesting newcomers to the city.”

“Who?”

The voices faded in the distance before they could hear the answer.

Alexandra exhaled. “Fuck.”

“We’re lucky they didn’t come our way,” Louis said, stepping out of the door frame. He turned his head and looked at her. “It’s fine, you can come out.”

“I…. She looked down, then back at him again. “I recognized that voice.”

Louis tilted his head. “Yes? Me too. It’s Will, one of Merinus’ lieutenants. How did you…”

“Shit. That’s not good.”

“What?”

“You know how I was out last night?” Alexandra asked, her mouth unsteady.

Louis’ face fell. “Don’t tell me he was the one to take your name?”

She nodded.

“Then, I guess he was talking about you, just now.” He frowned. “That could turn into an issue.” He paused, then shrugged. “For you. As far as I’m concerned, my relationship with Merinus has long passed the point of no return.”

Alexandra swallowed. “So it’s fine.”

“Not really. You’re in massive trouble. Potentially. Depending on what they decided to do with you. Maybe they won’t act, maybe they’ll decide you’re a demon worshiper and then who knows where they’ll go from there.”

“Shit.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much. You’re with me, and once they found out, they would have reached the same conclusion.” He smiled. “This only moves the timeline a bit earlier, that’s all.”

She rolled her eyes. “Very reassuring.” Then, she stepped out of their hiding spot. “Let’s go see your alchemist and get out of this shithole.”

Maret’s lab was a few steps away from them, where the men had been. They knocked on the door, and waited for an answer.

The door stayed shut.

Louis knocked again, three sharp raps. Nothing. He leaned closer to the wood. ”Maret. Open up. I know you’re in there.”

A clatter from inside, then stillness.

”Maret.” Louis’ knuckles hit the door harder. ”You’re not fooling anyone. Come out.”

This text was taken from NovelFire. Help the author by reading the original version there.

A long pause. Then the bolt scraped back, and the door swung open.

The man in the doorway was thin to the point of concern, sharp angles, collapsed cheeks, his grey coat hanging off him like a cloth over a hanger. He had ink-black eyes set deep under a heavy brow, and his fingers, wrapped around the door frame, were stained amber. He looked at Louis and groaned

Then his gaze moved to Alexandra.

He looked at her for a moment. His expression shifted. He stepped back from the doorframe.

”Inside.”

The lab was one long room, low ceiling, the walls lost behind shelving that climbed floor to beam. Every shelf was packed: clay jars sealed with wax and labeled in a cramped hand, glass bottles in shades of amber, blue, and deep mossy green, iron-capped vials nested in beds of sawdust, bundles of dried roots hanging between. The smell was sulfur, and above it herbal and medicinal tones, burned wood, rotten apple.

Two furnaces occupied the far wall, with grates that glowed orange in the dim. Between them a slow, luminescent liquid, faintly blue, looped through a series of glass coils mounted on brass frames before draining into a cooking pot. Condensation gathered on the coils and dripped on the floor.

The central table ran the length of the room. On it: a mortar crusted white at its rim, a scale with one pan still holding a measure of dark powder, and a rack of test tubes each plugged with cork and filled to varying levels A large diagram was pinned flat under two smooth river stones, inked on linen, showing a human figure divided into sections with notations running up the margins. Beside it, a book lay open to a page covered in dense columns of text, with a red thread marking another page further back.

Maret moved to the table and turned to face them, setting both hands flat on the surface between the scale and the crucible. He looked at Louis, then at Alexandra, and then at Louis again.

”What do you want?”

“An herbicide. We have Ghostbell sap,” Louis answered.

Maret smiled, and tapped his fingers on the table. “Still haven’t given up on the Yshant, I see.” He eyed Alexandra. “And you’ve managed to recruit another fool to help you. How heroic of you.”

“The Seven save me, I’m no hero.” Louis spat. “So, can you do it?”

Maret chuckled. “Of course I can. For a price.”

“How much?”

“How about one good and honest gold coin?” Maret raised a finger.

Louis scoffed. “Do you think I’m stupid? We’re providing the materials. No more than fifty silver.”

“My time is valuable, dear customer. Furthermore, it’s not like you can find another alchemist to brew the herbicide.“ Maret paused. “Though, I have to point out that my concoction will be far from enough to kill an Yshant.”

“Why is every random potion so expensive in this city? First the Hands, now you…” Alexandra grumbled. “We’re going to kill the Yshant. Give a discount. If not for us, do it for yourself.”

Maret clicked his tongue. “You’re quite mistaken. I don’t particularly care about the Yshant. It will never reach the point where it can threaten me. The real Wardens will get the news before then. It’s Merinus who needs it gone before that.” He chuckled. “If anything, that makes me want to raise my prices even more. But I’m an honest man. Tell me more about that potion from the Hands, though.”

“Why do you care?”

“A good businessman keeps an eye on their competition. I do like my status as the only alchemist in town, believe it or not.”

Louis interrupted. “Lower your price, and we’ll tell you.”

The alchemist’s eyes shifted toward him. “Fine. Fifty silvers for a batch of herbicide. Give me the sap.”

Alexandra handed him her gourd. He opened it, took a sniff, and closed it. “Good. It’ll be ready in a few days. Now, the Hands?”

“I have contracted the sickness of mana, they sell the cure for five gold.”

Maret blinked. “I would question how you managed the sickness of mana in this region, but I don’t particularly care. That said, I can offer you a different path to recovery.”

Alexandra leaned over the table. “I’m listening.”

“I’ll give you the cure for free, as long as Merinus is driven out of the city, or dead.”

Louis shook his head. “You’re crazy. This is worth a lot more than five gold.”

Maret nodded. “I agree. But I’m not comfortable showing off that skill of mine with him around.” He raised his hands. “I’m just offering another solution, that’s all.”

“Is it really that complicated?” Alexandra asked.

Louis frowned “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know what that Merinus guy did to you, but you’re enemies anyway.” Alexandra shrugged. “Maybe we can drive him out of Esmera. One way or another.”

“Alex, Merinus has been leading Esmera for decades, he’s a Gold, and not a new one. That doesn’t make him immortal, but still… If I could deal with him, I already would have.”

Alexandra frowned. “Gold? What about you?”

“I’m close, but I’m still Silver.”

She was Iron. If it followed the same progression as the monetary system…

Iron, Bronze, Silver, Gold, Platinum. She was far from making the cut.

Maret coughed. “Well, I tried. Still, even if you end up paying for the cure with the Hands, I would still reward you for killing Merinus and his band.”

Louis raised his eyebrows. “You hate them that much?”

“It’s not hatred. It’s business. You wouldn’t understand, boy. Stick with the hero play.”

“I’m not—”

Right, they were talking about killing someone.

Somehow, that truth had skipped Alexandra’s mind. She had been so focused on her goals that she lost sight of what the alchemist was really suggesting. She’d killed monsters, and maybe this Merinus wasn’t all innocent, but that was a line that she wasn’t certain she wanted to cross.

Just the fact that she was considering it sent a shiver down her spine.

Her attention returned to the action as Louis handed the fifty silver coins to Maret. “For the record, I know you’re still ripping us off.”

Maret smiled. “Business is business, dear. Just steal some more from the Wardens.”

Louis glanced at Alexandra, then turned back to Maret. “I’ll come back in a few days. Let’s go.”

“Wait,” Alexandra said, looking at the alchemist. “Speaking of business, how would you like some paralytic agent from a Gallowbloom?”

Maret patted Louis’ shoulder. “See, that’s how you speak to my heart.” A flicker shone in his eyes as he met her gaze. “How much quantity are we talking about?”