That job was the demon lord, an entity called Berith. That was the precise and full extent of what Altair knew about his new foe, and that wasn’t anywhere near enough information. He needed to know more about the Abyss, about demons, demon lords, and of course this one in particular. Every bit of information could be relevant.
He entered the Grand Library of Winterspell and paused to take in the view. It was quite a sight—unlike anything he’d ever seen before. Straight ahead of him was a long wide desk. Behind it a spindle railing ran left and right for a hundred feet or more, before ending in dual staircases that went both up higher into the library and down into its depths, mirroring one another.
It was what lay beyond, however, that stole his breath and dislodged Christine from his mind’s eye.
Rows of bookcases. Floors’ worth, up and down. A giant rectangular empty space ran from floor to ceiling just beyond the desk, an empty void. Beyond it were the bookcases. Altair walked around the desks, ignoring the two women sitting there. He leaned over the railing to marvel at the sight.
Six floors below him. Another six above. He could see them all, though the stacks of books retreated into the distance and the low lighting meant he couldn’t see the end.
“That’s a lot of books.”
“Thanks.”
He turned to glance at one of the women, both of whom were looking at him a little starry eyed.
“What can we help you with today?” the older of the two asked, managing not to giggle.
“Lord Berith,” he said bluntly. “The demon lord Circe was talking about in the meeting yesterday. I need to read up on him.”
The two witches recoiled. “What is it with people and that foul beast today?” the younger said.
Altair just waited.
“Second floor,” he was told at long last. “Section A-Three. Demons and Demon Lords.”
“Thanks,” he said, and hopped over the railing.
The witches yelped, and he heard them scramble out of their chairs, but he didn’t look back. His focus was on the entrance to the second floor. Floating on a cloud of air, he touched down with barely a whisper on the floor at the foot of the staircase and dived into the depths of the books, making a beeline for section A-Three.
He arrived in the section to find the shelves clearly missing books. A closer inspection showed that many of the ones that might be about this Lord Berith had been taken. Looking around, he spied a section of desks further down. Wandering over, he hoped to try and share with whoever it—
“Hi.”
Altair smiled ruefully. “Of course,” he said as Christine looked up from the book she was reading, her desk stacked full of the various texts he assumed he would need. “This is what the two at the front desk meant by the books being popular today. Doing a little light reading this morning?”
“Something like that. What are you doing here?” she wanted to know, speaking in a low whisper. “Are you following me?”
“No,” he replied, making sure to keep his voice quiet too. He couldn’t see anyone else in this section, but he wasn’t sure. “I came here for the same reason it seems you came here.”
“Brushing up on Berith?”
He nodded. “I like to know my enemy.”
“We’re not guaranteed to fight him, you know,” Christine pointed out, leaning back in her chair, book momentarily forgotten.
Altair stared at her, only blinking once, and very slowly.
“So, you don’t buy that either.”
“No,” he said quietly. “If your European school knew where he was, they would be after him already. It sounds like they’re searching for him, trying to find him.”
“That still doesn’t guarantee he will come here. Demons usually try to avoid coming here. Especially after what Circe did to the last one. Even a demon lord doesn’t want to cross her. Trust me.”
Altair had heard the rumor from Rane, that Circe had absolutely taken a lower level demon to task before sending it back to the Abyss, to the netherworld where such creatures and more lived. Apparently, she’d created quite the stir in her handling of the beast.
“You’ve got all the books,” he said, changing the subject back. He wasn’t in the mood to banter. “Mind if I borrow some?” He grabbed three off the top and started heading over to another desk, one where he could sit with his back to her.
His ears picked up a whispered word or two before the books were abruptly ripped from his hands, whipping back over to land on her desk.
“Excuse me,” he rumbled. “What are you doing?”
“Excuse you? You’re the one who just up and took them from my desk. Don’t pretend like I’m the rude one with no manners here,” Christine said.
Altair sighed. “You have nine texts on your desk. Surely you can let me go over some of them. You can’t read them all at once.”
“Can too,” she countered, waving her wand. The books leapt into the air, opening to pages at random, all of them hovering in front of her face.
Altair rubbed at his eyes, then snatched a pair from mid-air, including the one she’d been reading as he’d approached. “I’ll take these two.”
“No, I don’t think you will.”
“Why does it feel like I’m arguing with a child?”
Christine bristled. “I’m not the one acting like I can take anything without asking, unlike an adult who would know better.”
Altair scowled. “No, but you are the one who’s acting like you own everything, despite being a full-grown adult who should know how to share.”
A face appeared in the row of books back toward the entrance. “Shh,” the officious woman said, holding a finger to her lips. “This is a place of study.”
“Exactly,” Altair said, glowering at Christine, indicating
