My feet carry me to the nearest side of the cage, thinking about all the time I’ve spent down here, trying to figure out a cure for the damned. Then my eyes flick to her, remembering all the time she spent inside one. For some reason, that image doesn’t bring me joy. Instead, anger bubbles low in my stomach, trying to understand why I feel that way, which in turn only makes me angrier.
You don’t want to hurt her.
Yes, I do.
No, I don’t.
Yes, I— Frustration gnaws at my insides, and the heels of my palms slam into my eyes, trying to get some clarity.
“If you weren’t torturing it, then what is all this?” She shakes the pages roughly.
“It’s everything that I’ve been able to find out about the creature.”
“The Demicrogen,” she clarifies.
“Does that look like a normal Demicrogen to you?”
“No,” she mumbles under her breath.
“It wasn’t torture, Kalliope. I was trying to help the beast. But some things aren’t worth saving.” Her full name tastes like acid on my tongue, and I’m hoping she doesn’t catch the slip-up. But that was wishful thinking. Her head cants, eyebrows pulling together with caution.
She chooses not to comment, but she clearly continues to turn it over in her head. “So what you’re saying is this Demicrogen is somehow different from the others I’ve incinerated?”
“It wasn’t always…” I trail off, my fingers dancing over a bar at a time. “But like I said, some things aren’t worth saving.” My magic brushes over the lock, causing the enchantment to wash away, and the sound of the latch breaking echoes over the room. The Demicrogen snarls with bared teeth, its soulless orbs staring straight at me. It waits the length of one of Kallie’s heartbeats,which is a little longer than usual—I’m pretty sure her heart stopped for a moment.
The weight of the door causes it to swing open on its own, and the Demicrogen seizes its opportunity, rushing toward its freedom on all fours. But it won’t get very far. Kallie immediately rushes to action, throwing the notebook to the side and calling the flames to her palms—not wanting to risk torching what other answers are in the pages.
“What are you doing?” she exclaims. I take a step back—a few, actually—and watch as the creature busts through the newly found opening. Saliva flies through its clenched teeth, its skeleton hunched over, ready to attack. The Demicrogen keeps its attention locked on me, its tongue snaking out, licking its lips like I’m its next meal. “Are you insane?” Kallie blanches, which in turn draws the creature’s attention toward her.
“Show me what you got, Princess. Put this poor creature out of its misery.” The nickname slips out like second nature, rolling off my tongue with ease. Her face scrunches with a mixture of annoyance and frustration, but I recognize when the determination settles in, and I know I have a front-row seat to a very entertaining show.
My head threatens to explode once she sends the first fireball toward the Demicrogen, but I bare my molars down, knowing the beast can sense weakness.
The Demicrogen too.
It jumps on the side of the cage, talons wrapping around the bars, trying to get a better vantage point. It wails out, like a battle cry, and launches into the air. She doesn’t hesitate and pushes a wave of flames its way. Had it been any normal Demicrogen, it would’ve disintegrated, mere dust particles in the air.
But the journal doesn’t just hold answers, it contains all the unanswered questions I have as well.
I watch intently, following each of their movements withprecision, not wanting to miss a beat. The cold air makes the Demicrogen more sluggish than normal, which doesn’t necessarily make this a fair fight.
“Are you just going to stand there? This thing won’t die!” Kallie yells out, nearly missing the swipe from the creature.
“Figure it out,” I say all too calmly. In truth, my head is raging, thumping against the sides of my skull like something is trying to rip its way out.
“There’s no figuring anything out. This thing should’ve been dead the moment my flame touched it.” That’s the point. It should’ve been dead. So why is it still breathing?
“New rule: no more fire. Clearly it’s not working.”
“You have got to be kidding me,” she deadpans.
“You have other powers at your disposal. Or would you prefer me to take away the use of magic altogether?” All I get is a grunt in response. She front rolls out of the way just in time, knocking over a small table before popping back up on her feet. Greenery drops from the ceiling with force, sheet rock tumbling down after it. Vines wrap around the Demicrogen’s arms, but despite the magic she’s clearly pouring into them, it does nothing except slow it down for a moment.
“This is annoying.”
“Admitting defeat already? I’ve never known you to give up so easily.”
Agitation paints her face, anger, frustration, all muddling together until I finally see it happen. Just like before. The switch flips, and I know, without a doubt, the Demicrogen will be dead in just a few short minutes.
