Demon Summoning for Dummies 01

Elend March, Third Year at Ezhar March's University for the Magical Arts, had never had a mermaid in bed before, but they did say college was for experimenting.

"Be gentle," breathed the girl, her scaly cheeks flushed. He made room so she could get out of her tank. Water ran in rivulets down her golden tresses. "It's my first time."

Elend grinned. "A little bird told me you came out of Bennet Dougal's room last week, and him wringing saltwater out of his trousers."

Glynis--that

was

her name, wasn't it?--pouted prettily as she plucked seashells off her pink breasts with a satisfying

pop

. "What little bird told you that?"

"My bird, Soots." He glanced at the all-black parrot in the corner, whose beak was parted with unnatural delight. "Look away, Soots, you little pervert."

"Fine. I'm not a virgin." Glynis slipped onto the bed--onto

him

--and bared delightful little siren's fangs. "But neither are you."

"Nope." He grasped her hips, beside himself with excitement. He found the telltale slit in her scales and brushed it with his thumb. The mermaid trembled to his immense satisfaction, her pale blue pupils widening almost to the size of her eyes, until he could see his own smug reflection in them. She was a small creature, and very pretty, but more than anything he loved the way her muscles rolled as she shifted onto his human cock. He could feel the power beneath her flesh, and shivered to think of what she could do to him if she wanted to.

The door opened, and

godsfuckingdamnit

, he'd forgotten about the door. Not that he expected anyone to come unannounced into his small and messy dormitory room. Not anyone except--

Shay.

Shay was the most powerful witch in the graduate program at March's. Also, one of the hottest, a fact Elend's friends kept reminding him--

She's too good for you.

At six-foot-two, she was a brown goddess, and every teacher's pet--even Silvercleaver, who was supposed to be mentoring Elend. Elend was lucky Shay had fallen for him, and so, for that matter, was she.

Even though just now, she resembled more one of the angry statues that guarded the Toxic Garden than a lucky girlfriend.

"Oh hi, Shay," said Glynis, burbling through her gills. "Did you do homework for Advanced Divinatory today?"

After a moment of excruciatingly silent contemplation, Shay crossed the room. She skirted the sloshing tank-on-wheels that Glynis used to get around, and grabbed a bag, stuffing crystals and dried herbs into them.

"Shay," said Elend. "Wait. It's not--"

"Not what it looks like?"

"She's. Tutoring me?"

Shay spared him one sharp glance. "I guess you don't need 'tutoring' from me anymore, then." She picked up a handful of scarves and whisked to the door.

"Wait. Glynis, help me out here." Elend awkwardly shoved Glynis off of him, back into her tank.

"Are you two, like, exclusive or something?" asked Glynis, her eyes wide. Not the brightest bioluminescence in the sea.

Elend rushed into the dormitory hallway after her. He picked up one of her fallen scarves and held it to his still-erect cock, pulsing with unfulfilled need. "Shay. You can't just walk away from what we have!"

"Watch me," she said without turning around. "I know my worth."

"Just--hold on a fucking second! I fucked up, Shay, I admit that! But I love you!" The thought of losing her was incomprehensible. Not only would he be heartbroken, but everyone--the entire University--would know that Shay Foxglove, who some already said might step up as President once she graduated, had walked out on Elend March.

Elend March, the great-great-great-grandson of Ezhar March, founder of Ezhar March's University for the Magical Arts.

When Shay didn't stop, Elend jogged forward, grabbing her arm. "Shay, I lo--"

She whirled. Literal fire burned in her eyes, forcing Elend to step back. "Say 'I love you' one more time and I'll tear your fucking nuts off."

Elend blinked. "You wouldn't do that. You'd get expelled."

"Are you

seriously

threatening me right now?" Shay shifted, a hand on her massive hip, glaring down at him. "I thought we actually had something. Elend and Shay against the world, you know? Not this Legacy bullshit."

"My great-great-great grandfather has nothing to do with it!" Elend reached for her hand. He could fix this. "Come on, Shay. I know I need to do better. But when you're around..." he bit his lip. "I'm the best version of me. I was only--lonely, because you went on that service trip, and I..."

"Normal people don't cheat because their partner is gone for a few days!" She was practically screaming now, advancing on him, forcing him back against the hallway wall. At this point, they had acquired a small audience of curious heads poking out of their dorms. "Someone needs to teach you there's

consequences

, Elend March. Your name isn't everything."

"I know that," Elend said meekly. At least she was talking to him, which meant there was a hope that she wouldn't break up with him. "Shay, calm down. Let's talk to Silvercleaver; she'll know what to--"

A strong hand shot out and grabbed him by the throat. "And give her another chance to make excuses for you?" A storm wind had, impossibly, picked up in the hallway, tearing at the parchment announcing concerts and palm readings on the wall. Shay's locs whirled around her like a creature all its own. "No. I'll do you one better than tearing your nuts off." Elend didn't like the sound of that. "

Elend March, you shall not take pleasure from any touch except that of a demon from the lowest pits of hell."

She released him. Elend stared, and then started laughing. "Shay, you scared the shit out of me for a second." His heart was beating too fast in his chest. She couldn't curse him--not only because of who he was, but because it was strictly against the rules to use magic against another student. "Gods. You're so hot when you're scary."

Shay smiled, a thin, wolf-like twist of her pretty features. "We're over, Elend March." She kissed him on the lips. "Good luck with that."

***

"What did you say was the nature of this curse?"

Elend stood before a tribunal of magical beings--a council of professors who headed March's University for the Magical Arts. The professors ranged from a literal angel whose soft glow was a little hard to look at, to a werewolf (everyone was politely declining to comment on the saliva dripping from his fangs), to Silvercleaver. Elend's orcish mentor currently had her face in her enormous hand, punctuating the tribunal unsubtly with heavy sighs.

"Uh," said Elend, hoping very much that the prophesied Obliterating Asteroid would hit, at this very moment, the University Hearing Theatre. It was in fact shaped much like a theatre, with him under a painful spotlight that almost hid the professors' disappointment from this view. Almost. "It's not important? The point is she cursed me and I think that breaks the rule around using magic against your classmates."

"That may be," said the angel, gleaming a bit. "But you have filed the report, Elend March. In order to decide Miss Foxglove's tenure at this university, it's important that this tribunal know the details. Such an accusation is not to be wielded, or taken, lightly, young man."

Young man. He hated that, as if he were nothing but a child. "She, uh." He mumbled the rest.

"A bit louder, boy," snarled the werewolf.

"She said I'd never take pleasure except from a demon's touch," Elend horrifically heard himself saying aloud.

Silvercleaver's face sunk further into her hands. All that was visible was her enormous chin beneath her wide green palms.

Professor Ferrier, an aging centaur who could theoretically be classified as a silver fox if he was not, in fact, a horse, looked like he was trying not to smile. "Have you tested the strength of this curse, Mr. March?"

Elend's spirit left his body for a minute, then came back down, and unfortunately he was still standing in the same place before the tribunal. "Laugh it up, Teach. The point is that another student cursed me. I know she's everyone's favorite but do the rules of this institution mean nothing to you?" He was proud of himself that he had used the word 'institution' the right way.

"I've heard enough," came Silvercleaver's voice from behind her hands. "Let's recess while we speak with Miss Foxglove." She stood up, not waiting for the agreement of the tribunal, and grabbed Elend by the collar, practically dragging him out of the room.

The only thing more horrifying than admitting to his current predicament was the prospect of his mentor dressing him down where no one else could hear her orcish curses.

She dragged him to her office. "Sit down."

He did, enduring the stares of the conscious skulls that hung from her walls. "I didn't do anything wrong! Why are you mad at me?"

Her fist came down on her desk, rattling the various writing implements fashioned from the bones of her enemies. "You just had to make a scene, didn't you?"

Elend couldn't fathom the unfairness of it. First his girlfriend breaks up with him, then curses him to a life without any kind of sexual pleasure whatsoever, and then he had to endure the amusement of his teachers? "I'm not the one who cast a curse!"

"You're going to get our most promising witch expelled, March. And all you can think about is your dick."

Elend scowled. "I don't think it's right that my dick has to suffer while Shay gets to go around cursing whoever the fuck she wants."

Silvercleaver eyed him with her silver eyes. She was getting that look like she wanted to smash something. He could tell because her lower fangs were sticking out even more than they usually did. Like she was pouting because she couldn't just kill him and be done with it. "We'll try to get the curse reversed if we can, but Shay is the only one who can do that. And I've met her."

Infuriatingly, Silvercleaver was right. Shay was a hard Taurus, or so she kept telling him. She wasn't one to easily change her mind, even though her decision might have been rash.

Elend slumped in the chair across from Silvercleaver's desk, which was a generous name for it as it was little more than a scorched, sawed-off tree stump.

Silvercleaver sighed and sat down, staring at him as if deciding if he'd be too tough to munch on for supper. "What

were

you doing to piss her off, anyway?"

Elend's face heated. That was enough dying of embarrassment for one day. Where

was

a good world-ending asteroid when you needed one? "You know how girls are." He remembered who he was talking to when Silvercleaver's thick lips curled back to reveal more of her fangs. It was easy to forget she was a woman sometimes. Not that he'd ever say that out loud.

A sharp rap came at the door, saving him further humiliation.

"Enter," grunted Silvercleaver.

The angelic professor opened the door, causing Elend to flinch and Silvercleaver to snarl. "We've come to a decision, Silvercleaver, and I think you'll agree. Mr. March, you may as well hear this too. Miss Foxglove has been expelled indefinitely from the University."

***

It felt like too much of a dick move to

not

say goodbye to Shay. Besides, maybe if he apologized the right way she'd take back her curse. That would fix all his problems.

In the week since the incident with the mermaid, Elend had tested the strength of the curse with little success. A publication called

The Wanky Wizard

usually served him just fine. Even though he could get the beginning of an erection by tuning in to a 24-hour mind-channel of rotating telepathic porn stars, he felt nothing when he touched himself. His nuts might as well have been numb for all the good they did him. He even tried "demon" porn--the kind where fauns put red paint all over their bodies and he could get arrested for watching. Nothing.

So he knocked on Shay's door. She lived in an apartment just off campus, with a door painted lavender.

Her roommate, Zinnia, answered. Buried in sweaters that were far too large for her, Zinna glanced up at him over a cup of re-heated blood with the familiar scent of cloves. "Oh no," said the tiny, pale vampire. "She doesn't want to see you."

"Come on, Zinn." Elend tried one of his charming-est smiles. "I need to talk to her. You know, have a habeus corpus on the whole thing."

"Don't you mean post-mortem?" she said dryly, sipping her blood tea. Her mug said:

I'm not responsible for what happens if you talk to me before 10:00 p.m.

"Yeah, that." Elend bit his lip. "Please, Zinn. I--I love her. I just want to talk, that's all."

"Ugh. Fine." Zinna rolled her eyes, tiny specs swimming in dark circles. "I'm sick of all this human drama." She slumped back into her oversized chair, pressing play on a reality show about crafting.

"You're the best." Elend bent to kiss the top of her head. Zinna hissed, baring fangs, then slumped sideways, throwing a crocheted blanket over her diminutive form.

He found Shay packing suitcases full of dried herbs. She didn't seem to care that she was crushing them. Without looking up, she said, "I've got nothing to say to you."

"I'm sorry you got expelled," said Elend. It was the least he could do, apologizing.

"Expelled?" Shay turned to him, a hand on her hip. He'd never seen her like this before--or at least, not directed at him. "I fucking quit."

"Oh," said Elend, nodding sympathetically. "Of course you did."

"Why would I stay after you ratted me out and the tribunal decided to take it out on me?" She turned her back on him. "Because of course. They'd expel a talented witch rather than slap one sanction on a rich white descendent of the Founder."

He came into the room, a familiar place, sweet with the scent of her and her lavender and mint, rosemary and dried nasturtiums. A scattered stack of tarot cards lay among dark printed linens on the altar in the corner. "Everybody has a bad day, Shay. We're all human." Some of them, anyway. "Maybe if you lift the curse they'd let you back in."

Shay actually threw her head back and laughed. The laugh rang throughout the room.

"I don't see what's so funny," said Elend. "You hate my guts, Shay. Fine. But you don't have to punish me for the rest of my life for it."

"I'm not," said Shay, giving an unpleasant grin. "If you're desperate enough, you know what to do."

Elend huffed. "I won't be a full warlock until I graduate. And even then, you have to get a permit to--"

"Hah! If you actually fuck a demon," said Shay, still grinning, "absolutely. I will fucking lift that curse for you." She zipped up her bags, shouldering them and shoving past him.

He followed her into the living room, feeling desperate. If she walked out that door, she'd never lift his curse for him, and he knew it. "Shay." He grabbed for her hand, feeling tears starting in his throat. "I love you."

She yanked her hand out of his grip. "Yeah. I thought I loved you too. But we're both gonna have to move on." She opened the lavender door. "Find some hot demon lady who'll put up with your shit." The door slammed in his face. He looked through the peephole to watch Shay powerwalking away.

He eyed the ball of knit fabric on the couch. "Don't look at me," the pile of sweaters mumbled. "I slept through the lecture on Eldritch Spirits and Forbidden Magics."

***

"Absolutely not."

Elend flipped idly through the Tome of Magical Restraint, which he had been working through for five months. It was a grumpy old book on philosophy for magic users, whose main thesis seemed to be that magic was ethically and morally bad and really it would be better for everyone if you just abstained. He sprawled on the floor of Silvercleaver's office with the Tome--it was too large for any desks in the room--looking up at the orc, bent over her expense reports. "Can't we at least talk about it?"

"Why don't they tell you that half the job is math?" she grumbled, looking like she was about ready to tear up all the receipts in her fists. Math was historically not the orc's strong suit. "Hell. You made me lose my place. I have to start over." She got up and began picking up all the discarded receipts, smoothing them out and trying to lay them in neat piles. "They should have given me an accounting student," she grumbled.

Elend shoved the book off his lap and pushed himself up. "You're always saying I should challenge myself," he protested.

"And you want to summon a demon, followed by getting fucked over, both literally and metaphorically, by one?" Silvercleaver gave him a look that made him want to crawl into a hole.

"Yes?" he said, grimacing. He felt her disappointment like a brand. But still. "You don't know what it's like. Being a young and virile human man. I'm gonna explode, Silvercleaver."

The shrunken heads on her wall laughed. "That's what he thinks," said one, followed quickly by, "Be nice to the poor boy. Unlike you, Gerald, he still has a penis."

"No comments from the peanut gallery," said Elend.

"Even if I wanted to help you get your rocks off, and I don't particularly do," said Silvercleaver, "you're not ready to

summon a fucking demon

, Elend. Not even close."

"So make me ready."

His hopes rose when she gave him one of her long, thoughtful looks. "Maybe I've been too easy on you," she rumbled.

"Uh," he said, hoping that didn't mean she was going to make him finish reading the Tome of Magical Restraint.

"You want a challenge, Elend March? Okay." She paced her side of the room, nodding her enormous head. "Okay. As of today you move out of your dorm and stay with me. We're doing intensive training, Elend March. If nothing else, it'll take your mind off things, and if we're lucky it might even make something of you."

Elend gulped. "Uh, not that I'm not grateful, Silvercleaver..."

"No," she said, stretching her forearms. "You want to work hard? Okay. We're going to work hard. You're going to come home from school and eat, sleep, breathe your homework."

That didn't sound remotely good. "My grades aren't that--"

"And what's more," said Silvercleaver ominously, holding up a single thick sausage finger. "You're going to apply for Travel Abroad."

The heads on the wall gave a chorus of "oooooh"s, the kind you gave to your kid brother when he got in trouble.

Elend groaned. This was serious. The Travel Abroad program was only for the brightest and most talented students. Sure, it kicked open the door to all kinds of careers, but Elend was not particularly concerned about a career. He had the money generated from the school; he planned to maybe put it into a scholarship fund while he fucked off to a pleasure yacht, or whatever it was his dad was doing at the moment. Working harder was not exactly what Elend had in mind. "You really don't need to do that."

"You wanted a challenge," said Silvercleaver. She had that hard set to her eyes, and Elend knew with a sinking feeling in his gut that she had her mind made up. "Pack your things. We're starting intensive study tomorrow."

**

Three weeks later, Elend March turned to the last page of Demons for Dummies. It wasn't strictly part of Silvercleaver's study regimen. She had given him the basement below her cobbled-together cabin, complete with cobwebs bitter than his body and a human-sized iron cage in the corner. Silvercleaver creeped him out sometimes. The basement was littered with books and little jars of magical experiments, most of which he'd done okay with. Technically, he was supposed to be practicing his charm casting, but he had that in the bag. He'd stayed up late to read the book every night for the past weeks. Since Silvercleaver wouldn't teach him, he'd taken it upon him to teach himself. And that, he thought, showed real initiative that the Committee for Foreign Travel would respect.