What's a King to a God?

Whelan Warehouse District
Backwaters Russia

The room was empty, spacious, and dark. The only lights came from the flickering of a dozen candles; all scattered throughout the room and kept separate from the rest of it. Anymore and they would be facing a fire hazard, any less and he wouldn’t be able to see the shape he was carefully chalking into the stone floor.

It was only the third time that they’d done this, Thomas and the woman who’d hired him. It was always on this day¸ the second Wednesday of the month, in which she called him forward. He had done it as a favor the first time, and when it had come to naught, he had expected nothing more. She had told him it was only a routine – she had as much belief in the actual accomplishment as he had in creature equality – and as such he thought that he was being paid handsomely for absolutely nothing. To draw a star on the ground and murmur some words? She knew as well as he did that whoever she was calling didn’t want to answer the phone.

Perhaps this time would be different.

“It is taking you longer than usual.”

Her voice was soft, but it carried in the silence of the room. Thomas’s blue eyes glanced up at her quickly, before focusing back to his drawing. He wasn’t aware she had been timing him, but it was to be expected.

“The pentagram takes longer to draw if I want it functioning-“

“Then why bother with it? Skip the star altogether, it would make it all the more easier. I have a family to get back to, you know.”
Her words were blasphemous. To summon a demon without protection? Was she mad?

“Without the protection the pentagram offers, the demon- or anything else we happen to summon- wouldn’t be kept from attacking us on sight, which I assure you would happen.”

She hadn’t turned toward him yet, as he watched her, it would seem that she was smothering the urge to laugh. Did she think he was joking? That would be a new one. Most believed his claims, and as the truth, they had every right to. He was not going to summon a demon for her without protection, that had been the deal, and she would be mad to want it any other way.

When she didn’t respond, he went back to drawing, careful to line the outer circle with the correct characters. He rose slowly, double checking everything before going to place the candles. He knew from the sounds from her direction that she had turned, her seat on the floor now facing him. Her long brown hair glistened in the flickering firelight, and he had the distinct impression that she was waiting for him to fail. He was as well. The sooner this was over and done with the sooner he could go home himself. She claimed to have a family, but he doubted it. She did not seem like the sort of woman to be motherly.

“Are you ready?”

“Of course.”

Her response was to be expected, but they’d only done this two other times. It would be one thing if they were attempting to summon a common cross-roads demon, but one of the first? She was as mad as they came, but she had the money. Money was his only concern. They both knew that she was calling a line that was more likely to hit ‘ignore’ than actually answer, and had the choice to do either.

Walking round the circle, he started to chant in a language that sounded like the crackling of flames. After a moment of this, he stopped before the front, and called out the being’s name. “Djinn, being of Lucifer, I call you forth.” There was a pause in which the star glowed faintly, ensuring its power.
Silence.

He waited a moment before glancing back at her. Dark brown eyes were trained imploringly at the glowing circle. Minutes passed before she offered a shrug and stood. He blew out the candles and went around the circle, clearing away the marks with careful efficiency. She was already on her way to the exit. The warehouse emptied out into a district filled with ones of the exact same look, some full of storage and some as empty as this. Whelan Enterprises had bought the district ages ago, but it was barely used. An old logo here or there did nothing for its claim to the land. Here, gang wars and countless criminal acts were committed nightly, and if the high up company cared, they didn’t show it.

Thomas doubted she had anything to do with them.

“Miss…” He began.

“Your payment will be in the account by tomorrow, Mr. Hunter.” Her pace hadn’t paused in the least. He spoke quickly, to try and get the answers his people had been vying for. Who was this woman? What did she want with a demon as strong as the one they were trying to summon?
“My sources tell me that your target has a son. Wouldn’t it be easier to summon him, and get the information you need-“

She had stopped walking. Now, she turned back to him, face devoid of most emotion. A dark eyebrow rose, and then she was walking back toward him. He felt the insane impulse to cower. She was nobody, a spoiled brat who somehow got his name and wanted to summon a demon. One in a Hundred of others trying for any solution to their petty life problems. He was attempting to put creatures in their place, and she seemed to have no intention of doing that or anything else to the effect of the conflict slowly making its way into a full-out war.

“What would the son of a demon offer to me?” She asked, head canted slightly to the side. “I do not wish to summon the son, I want to speak to the father.”

“Surely they would have the same information? It would be easier if we summoned him, would it not?” The words came on their own. He was not afraid of her, she was a girl, barely out of school by the look of her, probably still had a year or two left. She was no one. He was the expert on demons here, not her.

“What father gives his son all he knows?” He was starting to get annoyed with her answers. They weren’t answers at all. She was answering questions with questions. Who did she think she was?

“But-“

“If I wanted to summon the son, that is what I would be paying you to do, is that not correct? Sons of demons are not my concern, demons themselves are.”

“I understand that, but surely it is better talking to the son than getting ignored by the father? He won’t come. He hasn’t yet, what promise do you have that he will ever?”

The look she gave him was blank, but behind her eyes he saw some sort of emotion brewing. He suspected anger, but he couldn’t be sure. He was walking a thin line here; she could easily find another person to summon them.

When next she spoke, her voice was calm.

“If Djinn does not wish me to speak with him, then I won’t. That much is true. They say his son was only half demon, but if he is a true demon now, I do not know. What do half men offer to me and my plans? The answer, frankly, is nothing at all. If you insist we summon Djinnson, then I’ll insist we find another with views not so set on ease of access and quickness of success. Eventually, Djinn will have time for me, or perhaps be bored enough to answer. Even if that never happens, it is no great loss. You still get your money, I still get my answer. Refusal to answer is an answer within itself.”

“You speak as if you know them personally.”

It wasn’t a question.

She turned from him, heading back toward the doorway. “Finish your clean up, Mr. Hunter. You will have your money by tomorrow. I will see you in a month, same time as always.”

The warehouse echoed with the sound of the closing door.