Intruder in the castle!

He shoved the bathroom window open and climbed through. The weight of his foot strained the ledge, and he looked too big to fit—a single mass of muscle and talon-like claws.

But it turned out that the window wasn’t too small for him to fit through. In fact, when he fully entered and dropped to the floor, he ended up only a foot taller than Dodd.

He resembled a cross between a dog and a human: a demidog or half-dog, they might have called him in the underworld. This particular one skewed much closer to the "dog" side. His ears were sharp and pointed. The way he carried himself, with head and shoulders back, suggested not a barbarian but a brave knight. His fur was black and orange, but with the red-orange glow that only a Hellfloes demon could give off. A subtle smoke was trailing from him.

Fortunately, the smoke blended in with the steam from the bath, making him less conspicuous. Unfortunately, he had broken the window ledge.

Dodd recognized him the moment she saw his face. She realized she had nothing to fear...unless her employer caught him.

She removed her hands from the bath and gave him her full attention. She even gave him a small smile.

She said, “You’ll have to pay for that, Dobie.”

“No matter,” he said. “Come on, tell me all about it.”

“But Dobie, I-I...my lord is coming!”

“Shh, shh.” Dobie put a paw-finger to Dodd’s lips. Then he wrapped his arms around her, setting his nose on her shoulder. “It’s alright. It’s alright. This will all be fixed by the time I’m gone.”

Dodd blinked back tears. “Oh, Dobie, I was just thinking about...”

No, she couldn’t say it. She wasn’t thinking about adoration of her former co-worker at all. Before he came in, the one thing on her mind was how to solve a problem like Lord Nightfall.

So she compromised and found an answer between “you” and “him.”

“I was thinking about how you could help me with this job. It’s not working out like I—”

“It’ll work out. Things have a way of doing that.”

Then an idea struck Dodd out of nowhere.

“What do you have on you?” she said.

“Well...” Dobie let go of Dodd and took a step back. “I figured you would feel insulted if I brought you money. As you can see, I brought my body, to be used at your pleasure and discretion. And over here I have...” There was a belt around his waist—standard gear for most demons over the rank of “imp.” He fiddled with it.

“Your twelvetype deck.”

“...Oh, I do have that.” He grinned. “Are you feeling particularly lucky? Or unlucky?”

“I don’t want to gamble with it. I want to tell some fortunes.” Dodd looked uneasily at the clock on the wall. “Well, no. Just one fortune.”

“Can’t we do anything roman—”

“I’ll kiss you after the fortune,” said Dodd—nervous, but holding it together for the sake of her future.

Dobie nodded. The two of them sat cross-legged on the mat, breathing in the steam from Lord Nightfall’s waiting, judging bath. Dobie took out a deck of twelve. Each long card was the size of a human hand. Without shuffling, he spread all the cards out between them.

Twelve lavish cards for twelve elements. Three pictures per card...meaning thirty-six figures representing thirty-six places in the lives of all creatures, mortal, demon, animal, and monster. All good demons knew this deck well and respected the knowledge it gave.

Without hesitation, Dodd pointed to the Light card. Two figures in cloaks stood at either end of this illustration. Between them was an enormous crawling chameleon. Behind them all was a gasp of light so bright that it threatened to overwhelm them.

“Keep your hand there,” said Dobie, and she did. He swept the other cards away.

“What now?” said Dodd. “I want to tell my master’s fortune. How do I do that again?”

“Think only of your master, to the best of your ability. And free your mind of any judgments, any thoughts related to or springing from yourself.”

Dodd lowered her head and thought and thought. A minute passed. Two minutes.

Dobie could sense her getting restless and anxious. You could tell someone's fortune well enough after spending just a short time with them, but a handful of hours spread across one week was pushing it.

He asked, “Anything belonging to your master in this room?”

“Of course,” Dodd muttered. “Take the soap.”

He reached across the bathtub, grabbed it, and brought it under Dodd’s nostrils. Not that she could smell it—but the presence of an object like this was sometimes enough.

The card exploded.

Dodd reeled and cried out. Dobie flinched, but not too much—he was used to this part. After a blinding flash and a measly bit of smoke, the artwork on the Light card sitting between them had transformed.

“Ah!” said Dodd, delighted, when she realized what its emblem had become. “I figured it would be that.”

Hard knocking at the door.

Dobie gathered up all his cards and gave Dodd a quick peck on the cheek. It didn’t satisfy her.

“Wait!” Dodd whispered, grabbing his leg. “Leave me something, leave me the—”

“Open up, Dodd!” shouted the voice on the other side of the door. It didn’t quite sound like the typical Lord Nightfall, but it must have been him...

“Fine!” Dobie barked. He took Dodd’s hand, opened it, and gave her—

The door burst open. Lord Nightfall caught them in the act.

The lord of the castle was wearing nothing but a long white towel that wrapped his legs and torso taco-style. He had no weapons, but he had his magic and a will to use it.

He found two tiny demons not locked in embrace, but playing with cards. The whole affair looked like what it was: the height of innocence. This almost gave Lord Nightfall pause. Almost.

For the first time since Dodd had come to his lair, he showed some real, honest-to-badness anger. Anger! It wasn’t a blind rage. It was exactly the kind of controlled heat that Dodd had expected to see in a demon lord. It was an anger that made itself clear even as it kept itself quiet.

Lord Nightfall didn’t bare his fangs or laugh like a maniac. He made no boasts, no claims about the superiority of his pizza popper recipe. He merely raised his hand, pointed a finger at Dobie, and sent a silent dagger of light through his throat.

Dobie’s eyes rolled back. He gurgled.

Then he erupted into a choking black smoke far thicker than anything a natural fire could produce. It filled the room with total darkness. For several seconds it swirled and raged like a stormcloud...and then it escaped into the hallway and through the still-open window.

All that remained of it, and of Dobie, was a tiny sort of pellet on the floor. The pellet was such a dark object that it sapped the light immediately around it. It was the pure essence of a demon’s soul.

Dodd knew not to reach for the soul—she knew not to risk her lord’s wrath any more than she already had. She sat meekly against the side of the bath.

Lord Nightfall took the soul, then looked it over as if it was a counterfeit coin. He tossed it carelessly in the sink.

Dodd said, “Gravest apologies, my lord. I didn’t send for him.”

“I didn’t ask you if you sent for him,” said Lord Nightfall. He was disrobing and stepping into the bath. “Just heat the bath some more. Close the window too, while you’re at it. And get some air conditioning or something, it smells like blood in here.”

It was only now that Dodd realized her master had shapeshifted again. He looked—or she looked?—the same, but different.

More importantly, she, or whatever, had actually done something.

The mystery deepened.

“Wow,” said Lord Nightfall, her arms hanging relaxed over the sides of the tub. “I actually...did something just now, huh... Hey, Dodd, you’re not that angry or anything, right?”

Dodd was about to leave and hunt for whatever the “air conditioning” was, but she stopped short. Turning, she smiled and said, “No, my lord. In fact, I’m...genuinely happy, if you can believe it.”

Lord Nightfall found this suspicious. She raised an eyebrow.

“And your breasts are incredible, my lord.”

She nodded and relaxed.