The Riddle Of Magic

Chapter 14: Euclidean Spectrum

Spectres didn't process emotions the same way as other demons, and indeed the little shadow didn't seem to truly understand what it was doing. It leapt at the intruder who had seized the princess, and bit and scratched as much as it could, though its claws and teeth were scarcely sharper than the tip of a pen.

It had fought as much as it could, for the space that it wanted and the nest that made it feel safe, until its form had been consumed by light.

Alastor blinked away the vision with a hiss and Vaggie looked at him suspiciously as he withdrew his hand.

The little spectre had effectively used Transfer. It had access to magic? None of the other spectres he'd encountered had ever done so, save for his personal shadow.

He would have to ask about that later.

"You should be grateful! It saved her life, most assuredly!" he told the moth demoness after a breath to compose himself.

They looked back towards the tiny shade as it laid beside Charlie's head, cooing softly as it tucked itself over the side of her neck where she'd been bitten, humming softly.

The diminutive spectre had scarcely retained its essence when his alter had flared, the light of the blue Radio Demon tearing through its umbral form. That must have been the roar he'd heard, from Charlie's rage. She had roared for the Pidgin, for the sake of the innocent creature trying to protect her.

But before Alastor had managed to make it to her, she'd roared once more. What had made her roar again?

Vagatha's pale eye widened as she slowly reached out toward the little shadow, gray fingertips patting the Pidgin on the head as it chirped at her. "Gracias," she whispered, her hard voice cracking. "Gracias."

It hummed back at her, and he left the women be.

Alastor kept his face carefully even as he stepped outside, closing the door behind him. Cherri and Angel were waiting outside in the hallway, both bruised and battered.

"What now?" the spider demon asked.

"Why, we clean this place up, of course!" Alastor sneered, stalking past the pair. "Starting with burning the fucking forest down!"

The pair were itching for violence after the fight earlier, and eagerly helped him tear apart anything associated with the Other Radio Demon. They went floor to floor, systematically gathering every vase and flower they could find, bringing it outside to put to the torch.

Little Niffty surprised them all by defending the greenery, throwing herself in front of the greenhouse once they came for it.

"Please don't, boss!" the cyclops cried. "It's not the flowers' fault!"

"Move, or be moved," the Radio Demon ordered.

"Charlie liked the flowers! I like them, too!"

His composure hung by the tauntest of threads, and he could feel the worried gazes of the others near him.

"There were some flowers already here, yeah?" Cherri asked, shrugging casually. "Wouldn't make sense to get ridda stuff that's already yours!" She might be acting cool as always, but he saw her grip on her bat was tight enough to make it quake.

He turned back to the smaller cyclops. "You have two days to trim this mess down to fit in the greenhouse. Anything outside of that gets torched!" the Radio Demon sneered, a flash of green flame dancing across his extended fingertips for effect.

Niffty nodded quickly, speeding off to begin tidying.

"Ain't no need to be a prick," Husk grumbled. "You won, didn't ya?"