• The Demon's Curse •

18: In Which There are Gypsies

        The small feline form snuck in and out of dirty alleyways searching for a door. The demon nagged that wet paws had to be the worst possible fate but he was happy to be physical again. He was free and could do as he liked. But his victory was bittersweet. He couldn't be truly free until he finished the deal. 
        He trotted to the farthest red brick wall and tapped it lightly. The mirage of bricks faded, opening for the feline. Ifrit waded inside until he came to a doorway with a group of burly looking people. Some where birds with sharp beaks and thick talons, and others were people dressed in rags for travel. The room was lowly lit, aside from a few candles in the corner. Some family members that were lost during the war cross fire no doubt. The shadows were littered with eyes and squarks from varies eagles and ravens. 
        "Looky wha' we have here!" Exclaimed a woman in a bandana. "A demon if I ever saw one."
Ifrit leap onto the hard wooden table and appeared before several eyes. He projected his voice, "My apologies, my form is permanent for the time being. My name is Ifrit. I'm looking for a couple of 'Gyptians."
        The man in the center lifted from his hunched position. He had long greased black hair and a thick black fur cloak.
"I am Meister Memphis. And this is my wife, Morgana." A woman in the shape of a blue falcon shifted into a mid-aged woman with a thick head of wild curls. She also wore a scarf to tame her hair. Her olive skin was much lighter than that of her husband's. The entire group looked like ruffians or pillagers complete with scars and bad hygiene.
        "Demons are not welcom' here. So talk quickly." One of them sneered. A few birds of prey ruffled their feathers but nothing seemed to intimidate the demon. 
"I wish to have aid for a spell. I want to break the dimensional bounds."
        A breathy gasp, and low murmurs were sown around the room.
The Meister laughed in hearty health, "As if we'd let a demon cross over into the flat plane."
Ifrit made no movement, he only looked passed them at the memorial photo. A small shrine was built around a small boy's face. The demon couldn't help but giggle. "I think you'll find my offer something you can't refuse."
        "The gypsies ain't want nothin' from you demons!" A elderly man slurred on account of his missing teeth. 
"That's right!" Another woman chimed in, "We're all that's left, 'cause of you demons!"
Ifrit's tail flickered this way and that, his whiskers twitched at the shouting. 
        "It doesn't matter what you have to offer. " Memphis bellowed. "The answer is no."
The cat seemed disappointed, but he honestly couldn't care less. He lost nothing of value in this event other than a meal of fresh Bluejay.
        He hopped down and began to walk back the way he came but paused, careful not to let his tail touch the filthy floor. "It's a shame, that. It's only been fifteen years hasn't it?"
The woman, Morgana gasped. The room grew eerily quiet. Her once ruthless war demeanor was diminished to the shambles of a grieving mother. Her husband's gaze broke for a moment to support his wife. He, himself looked as if he were back in a place he didn't want to be. 
        The anguish was evident on the couple's faces but the silence grew thicker.
The demon should have chosen a form of a snake. That would have suited him better. "I know where your son is."
Finally Morgana let out a helpless cry of relief but the danger was still evident.
        "Is he alive?" she wept.
"Very much so. I'm going back to see him once my business is finished here. As part of my contract I am supposed to send a human home. Madam Calypso sent her here."
        "As banishment?" Memphis inquired. 
"I don't believe so. She's just a human. regardless she doesn't belong here and wishes to return. I myself need the help of the Gyptians."
        "Come back in two days time, with our son in hand." Morgana spoke up, finding her authoritative tone. "Once we see that he is safe, we will do the summoning. Do we have a deal?" 
A cheshire grin cracked the Demons furry lips. "We have a deal Gypsy."
        The cat took one more set forward and stopped, not bothering to face them this time. "Oh. I forgot to mention. If one of you tries to follow me, and I will notice in bird form or not; I won't hesitate to kill your son."
The demon broke out in a sprint run, meeting the sunlight in the alleyway. How terribly odd it was to be in such an upper class city and be covered in grime. Ifrit scoffed, twitching his ear.
        He returned to the castle within an hours' time and gracefully leap in Lily's lap.
"Oh! Hello!" She greeted him with a gentle pat on the back.
        Howl came down stairs dusting off his hands, as if he had done some major work. "There. Now you won't need to sleep in the middle of the living room. You now have your own room. Take a look?"
Howl offered his hand to Lily, who picked up the cat and carried it up the steps with her. Ifrit hated to be handled but he didn't quite have the energy to complain. Howl opened the door to an extra bedroom that he had magically extended. 
        "What do you think?" he mused.
She hardly had time to take it all in. There was a long window with a desk and wide shelves for all of her book mending. On the far end was a bed. An actual bed with bedding and fluffy pillows that must have cost a fortune. Beside that was a nightstand with an oil lamp and her old lenses. She ran over, startling the cat to jump out of her arms. She picked them up and they seemed to be good as new. Her eyes glossed over as she tried not to cry, "Thank you Howl. It means so much to me."
        He grinned to himself giving a short bow. "Of course."
She looked past him, her lips parting in question. "That doesn't look like PortHeaven."
"That's because it isn't. It's Wales."

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