Chapter 7
Chris was puttering around the apartment, dusting the furniture, while Azzandar sat sprawled on the couch watching TV. The former demon never did any work around the house, clearly feeling that that was the job of his slave. He, after all, went to work and brought home the bacon. Why should he have to lift a claw to do anything at home? Besides, he’d always had servants and slaves to attend to his every need when he’d been the King of the Demons; he wasn’t used to doing anything for himself, and wasn’t going to try to get used to it, either.
Chris might have been annoyed about his attitude if he’d minded doing all of the household chores himself, but he didn’t. He actually found housework quite satisfying and fulfilling. And letting Azzandar try to do anything around the house was a bad idea, anyway. The former demon tended to get easily frustrated, and wasn’t above going on a rampage, and breaking everything in sight, if he were angry enough. So for the sake of his furniture and knickknacks, Chris was happy to do all of the household chores himself.
“Lift your feet,” he directed Azzandar, holding the pink duster in his hand, and eyeing the coffee table where Azzandar’s feet were resting.
The former demon gave him the dark look such an order deserved. He didn’t move his feet, either. Chris put his hands on his hips. “Listen, Azzandar, it’s one thing for you to lounge around the house doing nothing while I work,” he scolded, “But another thing altogether for you to refuse to even lift your feet so I can dust. Do you want salmon for dinner or meatloaf? Your choice.”
Azzandar snarled at his words, but lifted his feet so that Chris could slide the duster under them. He didn’t much like meatloaf, and while he could punish Chris for his insolence that wouldn’t get him any perfectly-cooked salmon on his plate. He couldn’t force the human to do anything that he refused to do, although there was very little that Chris refused to do if Azzandar wanted it. He supposed that indulging his slave a little once in awhile to get what he wanted wasn’t a bad thing.
Chris bustled away to dust the credenza, and Azzandar watched him idly. Perhaps he’d drag his human off into the bedroom for a few fun and games in a bit? He licked at his lips in anticipation, his cat-slit yellow eyes gleaming.
But his attention was suddenly diverted away, when he felt a great pressure and a feeling of some dark energy swirling and pooling nearby. His head whipped around, and much to his shock he saw a glowing vortex open up in the middle of the living room. Then, one-by-one, twelve demons stepped through this vortex and out into the room, each one holding a staff in one of their clawed hands. Power flowed around each of them like a cloak. Azzandar knew who they were immediately. Here, right in Chris’ living room, stood the twelve demon wizards who had imprisoned him in the form of a cat…
******
Silence. Then Chris gave forth a little whimpering sound full of fear, and fainted dead away. Azzandar leapt to his feet and hurried over to his slave, glaring at the demon wizards over his shoulder. “You’ll pay with your skins if he’s harmed,” he snarled furiously.
He knelt down next to the human, but except for being out cold Chris seemed unharmed by his fainting spell. Azzandar blew out a long breath of relief, then rose to his feet confront his‘guests’.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” he asked, folding his arms over his chest.
One of the wizards spoke up. “We don’t mean to intrude on this Paradise you’ve been enjoying, Majesty,” he said dryly, his eyes roaming over the small apartment contemptuously, “But we have urgent business with you.”
“Do you? What could be so urgent? Did my brother discovered that one of you helped me to change into this half-form?” he waved at his own body. “Did he command you to change me back into a cat, or perhaps something even more degrading?”
“No, Majesty. Your brother has had far more important things than you on his mind of late,” the demon wizard replied sardonically. “Namely, the unrest his actions and policies have caused among his subjects. He has alienated all those that he once wooed to his side to help him take the throne from you. Even we,” he waved his hand negligently at the other demon wizards, “Have come to the realization that we made a mistake. While you were not a perfect king, Majesty, your brother has proved himself to be both incompetent and foolish. We have decided that we are going to rectify our mistake, by returning you to your true form and aiding you in retaking your throne.”
Azzandar eyed them warily. “So soon you decide that you are unhappy with my brother’s rule? You, who so casually tossed me off my throne and exiled me here in the human world? How could I ever trust any of you again?”
They considered his words, exchanging glances. “Very well. Your point is well taken, Majesty,” the demon wizard who was apparently the spokesman for the group replied. “And the answer is simple: You cannot. Nor will you have to. We will create a device that we will give to you, one which will nullify our magical spells for as long as you are wearing it. Which means that our spells will not work on you. We will never be able to exile you again.”
Azzandar felt a thrill of excitement and bloodlust keen through his veins. He would be able to return to the Dark Realms and reclaim his throne! And he’d skin his brother alive, slowly but surely, over many ages of time. Just as he’d promised. “I see,” he drawled.
“Yes, Majesty. Come with us through the portal, and we shall remove your slave collar and return you to your true form. Then you can retake your throne.”
Azzandar started to step forward, then stopped. He looked down at the human sprawled on the floor of the apartment, and his hands curled into fists at his sides. He was finally going to get everything that he’d ever wanted…but he’d have to leave Chris behind to do so. He was not going to take the human with him, not into his world. Chris would hate it there. He wouldn’t be happy, and he’d be scared all of the time. He was clearly terrified of demons. Making his slave miserable, after all of the things that Chris had done for him…even he couldn’t be that cruel. So he’d have to leave the human behind.
He looked up at the waiting demon wizards. “I want you to do something for me,” he told them. “Or I will not return with you.”
“What is it, Majesty?” the demon wizard asked warily.
“You will conjure a means for this human to provide for himself once I am gone,” Azzandar told them. “He has cared for me during the entire length of my exile in this world. He must be rewarded for that.”
“Very well, Majesty. If that is what you require to return, it shall be done,” the demon wizard said.
Azzandar looked down at Chris’ still form once more. His tail twitched in the air behind him. “Farewell, Chris,” he said softly. “You have been a good slave. I will not forget you,” he straightened up and strode away toward the portal, not looking back. He couldn’t afford to have any regrets, not if he wanted to retake his throne and punish his brother for his rebellion. He walked through the portal and the demon wizards murmured spell before they, too, stepped through and closed the portal behind them.
*****
Chris came to a short while later. His eyes flickered open, and he lay there muzzily wondering what had happened. Finally, memory returned - and he sat up with a cry, as the images of the horrible demons walking out of the swirling vortex hanging in the air flashed through his head. He glanced around wildly. “Azzandar?!” he shrilled, terror lashing through him. “Azzandar?!”
But there was no answer. He felt a chill run down his spine. His worst nightmare was coming true! He scrambled to his feet, but the living room was empty. And there was something lying at his feet….he bent down and picked it up, seeing that it was a yellow envelope. He opened it with shaking fingers, pulling out some sheets of paper. He stared at them in puzzlement for a moment, before he realized what they were - bearer bonds. Bearer bonds worth thousands and thousands of dollars! He counted them, shocked to find that they were worth almost two-hundred-thousand dollars in total.
Azzandar had done it, he realized numbly. He’d gone back to his own world, just as Chris had feared that he would, and had left the money as a consolation prize. His lips began to tremble, and tears sprang to his eyes. He was alone. Azzandar had gone back to where he belonged, and Chris would never see him again. His heart broke, and he sank to his knees. The bearer bonds slipped from his grasp, and spread out in a fan on the floor. He put his hands over his eyes and began to weep inconsolably.
*****
Azzandar sat slumped on his throne, tapping his claws rhythmically over and over again on the left arm. He glowered out at his Court, and his demons walked softly in his presence. All except one - the demon-wizard Hazzinal strode into the room, sweeping up to the royal throne and directing a cool yellow look at the King of Demons. “Majesty,” he said.
“What do you want, Hazzinal?” Azzandar asked indifferently, scowling at him.
The demon-wizard sighed, shaking his horned head. “What all of your subjects wish, Majesty. For you to snap out of this ‘funk’, I believe is the correct human word, that you have been in since you returned to the Dark Realms and ousted your brother.”
Azzandar’s lip lifted, flashing fang. “You wished for me to return and be your king once more,” he pointed out in a deadly tone of voice. “I have done that. Now you complain? Do not push your luck, Hazzinal.”
The demon-wizard pursed his lips. “Majesty, clearly you are missing that slave that you had while you were in the human world. I can open a portal and have him brought here to you…”
“No!” Azzandar barked. “He would not be happy here, Hazzinal. A master who makes his slave miserable for his own pleasure is a bad master. I will not force Chris to live in the Dark Realms. He would not be able to handle it.”
“I begin to see just how attached you became to that creature,” Hazzinal murmured. “Very well. I have another proposition for you, Majesty. I will not bring that human here…I will send you there, instead.”
“What are you yapping about?” Azzandar asked irritably. “Do you already wish me to give up my throne again?”
“No, Majesty. What I propose is a compromise. I will sync the portal to the human world’s times and seasons, and when ‘evening’ falls there I will send you through the portal so that you may spend time with your human slave every day. And in the ‘morning’, you may return refreshed to your duties here in the Dark Realms. Would that be a good compromise?”
Azzandar straightened up, staring at him. “In this form, I would stand out in the human world,” he pointed out. “And Chris is terrified of it, anyway.”
A nod. “I am aware of this. It will be easy for me to give you the form that the human knows and is familiar with, and to give you your real form when you return through the portal each day.”
Silence. Then: “If you can do this, wizard, I shall be indebted to you.” Azzandar said slowly.
Hazzinal nodded. “I have considered that, Majesty,” he said with a toothy smile.
“So you do this more for your own personal gain? You are a true demon, Hazzinal,” Azzandar remarked in amusement.
The wizard bowed slightly. “Of course, Majesty,” he drawled.
Azzandar surged to his feet. “You will send me through the portal now,” he said imperiously.
“As you wish, Majesty,” the demon-wizard replied.
Azzandar strode down the steps of his throne and over to where the demon wizard was standing. He passed the frame where the skinned, disemboweled body of his treacherous brother hung, being kept alive by magic. Azzandar ignored his miserable whimpers as he strode by...just as he'd keep ignoring them for however long that he chose to keep Drakanor alive to suffer. Perhaps for the rest of eternity, who knew?
“There is one more thing,” he remarked as he approached.
“And what would that be, Majesty?” Hazzinal asked.
Azzandar waved a clawed hand in the air. “Humans are such frail, short-lived creatures,” he told Hazzinal. “I do not want Chris to age and die on me. Is there anything you can do about that?”
“Yes, actually,” Hazzinal replied. He twisted his hand in the air, speaking the words of a spell. Something appeared in the open palm of a his hand - a strange-looking amulet. “This piece of jewelry will stop time for the human for as long as he is wearing it. He will not age, because no time will ever pass for him.”
Azzandar reached out to take it from his hand. “Very good,” he said approvingly. “I will be sure to reward you properly for this, Hazzinal.”
“See that you do,” the demon-wizard said before he turned and waved his staff at the air, beginning to open the portal. "Now only one last thing, Majesty. Remove the amulet that we gave you which nulls our magic. You may wear it again once you come back through the portal. You will simply have to trust that we won't do anything to you while you're in the human world," he added with a sly gleam in his yellow eyes.
Azzandar reached up to remove the amulet he was wearing around his neck, then dropped it impatiently into the wizard's outstretched hand. He wanted to get through the portal now! He'd worry about his untrustworthy wizards later.
Finally, the demon wizard was done, and the portal hung in the air in front of them. Turning, he pointed a finger at Azzandar and began another spell. He felt a sizzle of electricity go through him, and when he looked down he saw a nearly-naked, muscular body with reddish-brown skin. A long tail curled near his thigh. He made a pleased sound. “Send me to where Chris is,” he told Hazzinal.
“As you wish, Majesty,” the demon wizard said, and Azzandar nodded before striding into the portal.
He found himself in the same small apartment that he’d grown so familiar with. He frowned. Why was Chris still living in this place when he’d made sure that the human was left enough money to live comfortably anywhere that he wished? He glanced around, seeing that the place was empty. Had Hazzinal screwed up? Where was the human?
The door opened behind him. Whirling around, he saw Chris walking through the door. The human looked tired and defeated, his face a little too thin. He was carrying a bag of groceries, which dropped to the floor as he caught sight of the cat-man standing in his living room. He made a small sound, his hand flying up to cover his mouth. His eyes were wide above his hand.
“Chris,” Azzandar said. “I have returned.”
“I’m dreaming,” Chris whispered. “This is a dream.”
Azzandar snorted. “This is not a dream,” he said impatiently. “Are you not pleased to see me?”
Chris slowly lowered his hand. “Is it…really you, Azzandar?” he asked. “This isn’t…a dream?”
“I have just told you that it’s not a dream!” Azzandar growled.
Chris made low sound, a half-sob. Then he hurled himself forward and into Azzandar’s arms, burying his face in the cat-man’s naked chest. “Oh, God,” he cried, clinging desperately. “I can’t
believe you came back! I thought…I thought I’d be alone forever,” he added miserably.
He lifted a hand and ran his claws through Chris’ hair. “You are my slave, Chris,” he told the human. “I do not choose to give you up.”
“Are you sure?” Chris asked, still hugging him.
“Yes, I am sure. One of my wizards will return me here to you every evening in this form, and in the morning I will return to the Dark Realms to rule. You will wait for me each day,” he went on arrogantly.
“Yes,” Chris sniffled, rubbing his cheek on Azzandar’s bare chest. “I will. I’m so happy.”
“Of course you are,” Azzandar replied. He pushed Chris away, and lifted his hand. “Here, for you. A present.”
Chris stared at the amulet. “What is it? A necklace?” he asked uncertainly.
“Yes, a necklace,” Azzandar agreed. “I would very much like it if you would wear it for me.”
Chris reached out to take the amulet. “Okay,” he said. “It isn’t…a slave collar, is it?”
“No, it is not,” Azzandar said truthfully. “It will not harm or enslave you, Chris. You have my word on that.”
“All right,” the human said, putting it around his neck.
Azzandar smiled in satisfaction. “Come now, my slave,” he remarked, reaching out to drag Chris toward him. “We must have our reunion. I shall take you until you cannot move anymore.”
Chris trembled at his words, but didn’t struggle against his grip. Azzandar chucked darkly, then swept the human up into his arms and bore his slave off toward the bedroom to get their ‘reunion’ started.
The End