A Pale Shade of Night

A Pale Shade of Night

Chapter 12: Messenger Duty

Arcana silently appeared in the dark forest a short distance from the Hogwarts grounds. She stood still amidst the underbrush and tangled roots, sensing her surroundings and breathing in the sweet, rich air until she was sure that it really was the wind rustling the leaves and that all of the more dangerous creatures had retreated deeper into the woods until the sun surrendered the day. She carefully picked her way past fallen logs and treacherous vines to the shaded path that led to one of side gates. The trumpeting call of a dragon echoed from off in the distance. Hogwarts had increased security since the Dark Lord engaged in that flashy duel last June.

The side gates were secondary entrances to the school grounds, really more of a magical formality to give a physical marker to "gates" in the wards. Most of them were overgrown due to disuse and all but invisible. Only students with a penchant for exploration or an unhealthy love of Hogwarts, A History would know of their existence. Over the millennium that the school had existed no one had bothered erecting fences on this side of the grounds between these gates since the forest was more than adequate protection from invaders.

Arcana had decided on this route over entering at the main gates because she thought it would attract less attention, thus following the Dark Lord's orders to keep a low profile. She was not sure that was possible no matter what measures she took.

As an emissary of the Dark Lord on official business, she was guaranteed safe passage by old Wizarding law. The other side of the bargain was that she could do nothing when on "enemy" grounds outside of her messenger duties, which basically meant having to follow orders from more wizards she despised. If she breached the contract, the Order would have free reign, which would surly be fatal for her if the magic backlash didn't kill her first. At least the same was true the other way around, though it wasn't that beneficial to her. It wasn't her war. Arcana was more worried about third party interference.

The dragon sounded its call again as she passed through the old iron gates. She internally winced at the sharp spires of Wizarding, or tainted, iron that crowned the top. From this spot the Hogwarts grounds rose higher, making it very easy to spot a visitor. To Arcana's left, a disheveled stone hut squatted at the forest's edge. Peering over the hut's roof was a small Welsh green dragon, the source of the trumpeting calls. It turned away from Arcana and trumpeted again, finally managing to attract the attention of a very large and hairy man. Arcana stepped further on to the grounds and watched with a wry smirk as the man tried to shush the dragon like it was a puppy. The dragon fussed about as if to say that it was just doing its job. A group of black-robed, chattering students meandered up to the man from over a rise. When they spotted Arcana, their muttering ceased save for a few hushed whispers and one exclamation of terror.

The startled man looked at the students, and then followed their pointing fingers down to Arcana, who was beginning to think that this trip might be redeemable after all. The man warily trudged down to Arcana with a hand in his dirty overcoat while the students shuffled back behind the hut. With that stature he had to be half giant. Arcana waited patiently, empty hands in plain sight. This would be the delicate part.

"Who 're ya," the man demanded, looking a bit nervous.

"An emissary of the Dark Lord," Arcana replied quietly. "I come on official business and ask for safe passage," she formally stated.

The man stepped back, quite flustered. "Well, 'm Hagrid, Profes'r Hagrid," he stuttered. "Hogwarts profes'r an, uh keeper of keys and grouns an all . . ." he trailed off. Arcana held back a frustrated sigh. They were relying far too much on the wards to keep out the Dark Lord's forces. "Jus' a moment," he muttered and pulled something small out of another pocket in his overcoat.

Hagrid spoke into the device in a hushed voice and listened to the reply. Arcana could not make out the words, but assumed he was speaking with Dumbledore. The dragon was starting to look bored and had taken to scratching at the collar around its neck. A spurt of flame blossomed as the dragon sneezed. The flame-retardant charms on cottage's thatched roof proved quite effective as it only suffered a little singing. A couple of the more adventurous students were peeking around the hut and whispering to each other, looking quite concerned about Arcana's arrival.

"Couple other professors will be righ' down ta escort ya up ta the Headmaster," Hagrid said gruffly.

Arcana nodded and turned her attention to the vast grounds and the castle rising up from behind a hill topped with a few of the standing stones so common in this region. The protective wards she saw around the silent sentinels were quite impressive. Perhaps she had not given Hogwarts' defenses enough credit. Smaller standing stones littered the muddy grass. They were all connected, weaving an intricate web of magic. It was old magic, at least in human terms, and some of it even predated the school.

Hagrid, who was standing over Arcana nervously, let out a loud sigh of relief when three figures came into view at the top of the hill. Wands drawn, one man and two women quickly made their way down. Arcana soon recognized the man as Snape and had to hold back a snarl. Death Eaters were everywhere. One of the women was an academic, dressed in green robes, and the other had to be an old Auror.

"We'll take it from here Hagrid," the woman in green said kindly. She was just as tense as the other two, but was actually trying to hide it. Snape stared down at Arcana coldly, wand hand twitching in agitation. The old Auror rubbed one of her scars and narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing the hunter's every detail, probably comparing her to the known servants of the Dark Lord.

Hagrid shuffled off to his students, chastising the now larger group that was peeking around the corner.

"We will take you to Headmaster Dumbledore," Snape informed her. "Follow us and do nothing else, or we will take the appropriate countermeasures, emissary," he warned darkly.

Arcana scowled at Snape's tone but nodded. "Of course, professor." She knew he hated that job.

Snape's eyes narrowed in anger, but he remained silent, very aware of the delicate game being played. He spun around. "This way, emissary."

They led Arcana up the hill and over the long covered bridge that connected to the main part of the school. Snape walked in front of Arcana, effectively blocking her forward view. The two women followed behind. Upon entering the school, Arcana felt the eyes of many students upon her back. The professors hurriedly ordered them to their common rooms, while keeping a close watch on Arcana. Snape viciously admonished several very young and very lost students that crossed the corridor ahead of him.

Hogwarts had not aged since Arcana had seen it last. Perhaps there were a few more chips in the walls and a few more bare threads in the tapestries, but the castle seemed timeless. It was probably old Salazar's doing. Arcana kept walking silently, surrounded by her "guard." A few curious portraits and ghosts tried to get a good look at her face, but she avoided their gazes.

Upon reaching the gargoyle-protected entrance to the Headmaster's office, the woman in green gave the password, "Figgy Pudding." Arcana supposed this meant that Dumbledore had not outgrown his sweet tooth. When the gargoyle slid aside with a groan, she was herded onto the moving stairs. The door at the top of the stairs was already open.

"Come in, come in, Severus," came an old but energetic voice from the doorway.

Snape stepped just inside the room, blocking Arcana's way.

"Let our guest inside, Severus," the voice came again, prompting the foul Potions Master to step aside.

Irritated, Snape spoke. "Headmaster, I strongly recommend-"

"It is not necessary, Severus," Dumbledore interrupted him. "She is contract bound," he said, looking sagely at Snape, "as are we by the old ways. I will call you when matters have been settled." Snape scowled, but walked out, shutting the door.

Dumbledore stood from behind his desk and walked to Arcana. "Greetings, emissary," he said seriously, sharp blue eyes missing nothing. "I trust that your visit has been uneventful?"

"It has, Headmaster," Arcana replied neutrally. "I have come to deliver a letter from the Dark Lord and request a reply."

"Ah, straight to business," he said with a faint smile. "Very well, emissary." Arcana gave him the letter and he went back to his ornate desk. "Do make yourself comfortable. This may take quite some time and," he said, pausing to wave at the many paintings of former Hogwarts Headmasters, his eyes glittering wryly, "they will not tell a soul."

"So you know of me then," Arcana stated cautiously, wondering just how much he knew. She gave the portraits her own searching inspection, and they stared back, trying to portray the essence of innocence and failing to various degrees. "I should have expected that." Arcana crossed her arms and waited, testing the extent of his knowledge.

Dumbledore opened the letter. "I suppose I usually do seem to know more than I should, but some fae traits are obvious when you know what to look for," he said distractedly, his attention turning to the letter in his hand. A muscle in Arcana's cheek twitched. He did know, placing her one step closer to death.

Snape had to be passing information to both sides, Arcana reasoned. There was no other way Dumbledore could have figured it out, no matter his muttering. This was getting complicated, and if Snape's allegiance was not with the Dark Lord she would have to think carefully in regards to future interactions with him.

Arcana gazed at the many objects crammed into Dumbledore's office. It was worse than the Dark Lord's laboratory, but probably quite a bit safer. There were even a few things here that she didn't recognize. She noticed one of the portraits scowling down at her from the corner of her eye, but the former Headmaster feigned sleep when she glanced upward. Dumbledore's phoenix watched her from its perch above the Headmaster, fiery plumage reflecting the light streaming in through the high windows. Immortal creatures were rare enough in this world that the phoenix would find her interesting.

Soon enough, the bookshelves called to Arcana, and she found herself perusing a shelf on defensive magic and the Dark Arts. She stepped away to lay her outer cloak and hat on a free chair, and then propped her dark glasses on top of her head. Dumbledore didn't keep his office stifling hot like the Dark Lord did, but it was still too warm for Arcana in her hunting garb. She gently ran her fingers across the book spines until she came to a familiar sight and carefully pulled it off of the shelf, all the while ignoring several portraits above her that were whispering loudly.

"Ah, a good choice, Arcana," Dumbledore said. "I was always rather fond of that one." Arcana frowned at the use of her name - that had to be Snape's doing - and turned to Dumbledore, but he had gone back to reading. She shook her head and sat down in a very comfortable chair as far away from the old wizard as possible.

The various magical devices in the room whirred and clicked as Arcana thumbed her way through the book. It was quite strange to read it again. She had not seen her own copy for quite a few years, as it was being safely stored far from the Dark Lord's prying eyes. He probably had his own copy, come to think of it. Arcana had written this Dark Arts education text under a pseudonym nearly two centuries ago when she had a brief bout of magnanimity toward young witches and wizards. She looked at the inside cover, verifying it was the copy that Dumbledore had used as a student. Time was such a queer thing in this world.

Engrossed in her reading, Arcana was startled when Dumbledore's phoenix landed upon her knees. The curious bird peered over the book, head cocked to the side, its intelligent eyes searching for answers to questions it could not ask.

"Fawkes," Dumbledore chuckled. "It appears he has taken a liking to you, Arcana. I suppose you must be more interesting to him than my normal visitors."

"Yes, it looks that way." She felt a smile tug at her lips. Dumbledore returned to the Dark Lord's long letter. Arcana set the book aside and tentatively stroked the phoenix's crested head, which Fawkes approved of heartily, trilling in annoyance when she tried to go back to reading. Arcana wished she wasn't wearing gloves, so she could feel the soft feathers. Fawkes hopped further onto her lap and settled down, resting his head against her cheek.

"You are quite intuitive, my friend," Arcana murmured. Fawkes gave her a look as if Arcana had just stated the obvious. She met the bird's deep amber stare and was surprised to see a tear at the corner of his eye. "And kind as well." She smiled and then whispered, "Don't worry about me, what comes will come."

Fawkes leant forward and let the tear fall on Arcana's cheek. "Thank you," she whispered, feeling the phoenix's magic burn warmly.

The tinkling of a bell brought Arcana out of her trance and made Fawkes ruffle his feathers. He then settled down again in Arcana's lap, making it clear that he was not moving. She blinked a few times, and then belatedly realized she had been lost in the magic for longer than she had thought. Dumbledore stood up, a newly sealed letter in hand.

"Now that this is done," Dumbledore said, handing Arcana the letter, which she slipped into her robes, "and since Fawkes has decided that you make a good place to roost," he continued, looking down at the content phoenix, "would you like some tea, Lady Arcana?"

Arcana froze, wondering how much the old man knew. Every word was an attempt to pry information out of her, and he was using all the guile of his century and a half. Had she worked to keep her secrets from the Dark Lord in vain?

"Oh, I imagine you don't hear that much these days," he said seriously. "Pardon that if you will." His mood lightened again. "How about that tea? I am curious to see what desserts the house-elves have prepared today."

After a moment of consideration, Arcana decided it could do little harm. "Tea sounds quite good, Headmaster." As soon as she had spoken, a house-elf appeared next to Dumbledore.

"Just in time, Dobby. Tea, the small tea," he clarified, "for myself and my guest."

"Certainly, Headmaster," Dobby said brightly. He got a good look at Arcana just before disappearing, and his eyes went wide.

"The tea, Dobby," Dumbledore gently reminded the stunned house-elf.

"Oh, yes," he replied, still fixated on Arcana. "Dobby will be right back, Headmaster. Dobby will not tell a soul, Lady fae." He bowed to Arcana and then vanished with a crack.

Arcana held back a growl of frustration and just sighed instead. This day was starting to get too long. Dumbledore slowly sat down across from her. "These old bones are not as strong as they used to be," he said with a smile, "but I must seem very young to you, Arcana."

"Both old and young, Headmaster," Arcana replied, glad that he had dropped the honorific. Most humans looked like dying children to her eyes. "Similar to the way humans see the fae I imagine, but opposite." Each species certainly considered the other mad at the very least.

Dobby reappeared with a "small" tea for two, putting a halt to Arcana's reflection. She slowly sipped her tea while Dumbledore joyfully examined the many sweets on the tray, finally settling on a lemon tart to start with.

"You are not quite what I expected, Arcana," Dumbledore said, serious once again. For a moment his blue eyes became as piercing as the Dark Lord's ruby ones. "There's so much I don't understand. Why-"

Dumbledore was cut off by an urgent knock at the door, which opened with a nod of his head. Arcana summoned her hat, shoved it low over her eyes, and tilted her head away to conceal her features. She also cast a small glamour that would make it impossible for a human to remember her features if they saw them.

The woman in green rushed inside, a hand to her chest. She was breathing hard and appeared very flustered.

"Albus," she said hurriedly. "They know, the Ministry knows and they have sent Aurors."

Furious anger sparked in Dumbledore's eyes. The force behind it again reminded Arcana of the Dark Lord. The spark faded a moment later. "They still try to undermine me," he muttered and then sighed. "I'm sorry you could not finish your tea, emissary. I believe you know the fastest way out. Do try not to frighten the students too terribly."

"Albus," the lady questioned, horrified. "You can't mean to let her go about the school alone?"

"That is precisely what I mean, Minerva. Time is of the essence and we will honor the old Wizarding code." He turned back to Arcana, who had dislodged a rather despondent Fawkes and was adjusting her robes. He held his hand out to Arcana and she took it cautiously. "Best be off now, and good luck."

"Yes, thank you for the tea, Headmaster. I will deliver your reply to the Dark Lord." They released hands and she quickly strode out of the room, past the shocked Minerva. After trotting halfway down the moving stairs, she started when she thought she heard a faint, "good to see you again," from the office, but shook it off, realizing he must have been speaking to Minerva. There was no way he could recognize her from before.

A few wandering students caught a fleeting glimpse of a dark blur as Arcana passed. She kept to the more secret passageways when possible to speed up her escape and to remain unnoticed. Dumbledore must know that this was not the first time she had been in the castle. He never would have let her find her own way out otherwise.

By the time Arcana left the castle, she was more than ready to be gone from that all too public place. She crossed the long covered bridge at a run, footfalls nearly silent against the wood. When her feet hit the grass she paused, leaning against one of the tall standing stones. It was just like the Ministry to think they were above the old laws. A frown creased her face. She hated politics as much as she hated wizards, and then there was the Dark Lord. He ranked much higher in that regard than even politics.

Arcana stalked across the grounds, leaving the towers of Hogwarts behind. The sky was beginning to darken, low clouds swirling to the tune of rising winds. Arcana pulled her hat lower over her eyes. There was a chill energy in the air that was not solely due to the changing weather or the old magic of this place. She could see it in the standing stones and along the three ley lines that converged on the grounds. She heard it in the nervous growling of the dragon stationed near Hagrid's hut. Coming over a rise, she spotted the great iron gate, now cloaked in the shadows of the towering trees. The dragon keened and snorted a wisp of flame as Arcana passed.

"I think you're the luckier of us, my friend," Arcana muttered as the dragon strained against its leash. She quickened her pace, wanting to be elsewhere, even if that meant returning to the Dark Lord's fortress.

From behind, Arcana heard the dragon let out a great and terrible roar. She spun around to see its large wings outstretched and flapping angrily at something that was making her senses tingle with danger - a haze of vicious righteousness and foul Darkness just beyond the gate. The loud cracks of multiple Apparitions cut through the air, and Arcana looked back toward the gate to see a squad of Ministry Aurors and ten towering black-robed dementors standing at the very edge of the anti-Apparition wards, blocking her path. Arcana hissed and drew her wand, ducking behind one of the larger standing stones. She was very outnumbered. This was supposed to be a quiet visit, not a bloodbath.

"Come out and surrender now, servant of the Dark Lord," a hard voice called out from near the gate. Arcana sneered, thinking to kill the wizard for the insult alone. Then she saw the traces of magic. They were moving. "Surrender and we guarantee you a fair trial," the harsh voice continued, growing ever nearer.

Their claim of any trial, let alone a fair one, was a joke. Once they learned what she was, they would thrust a tainted steel blade through her heart and watch her die in agony. She sensed them all, the fools. Did they really think to surround her? Did they truly think she would be captured that easily? Arcana drew upon the magic of the land, cloaking herself in invisibility. When the Aurors were looking away, she darted, swift and silent as shadow, to crouch behind a tree. She ran again, and was almost at the edge of the wards.

A horrible rasping cry alerted Arcana that a dementor had spotted her and was now gliding closer. Disgust welled up within her. Those creatures were hideous abominations, but they too could see magic to some degree. Not caring about the wizards, she stood gracefully and stepped into the open, wand in hand, ready to cast a spell that would utterly destroy the dementor. All the Aurors spun toward her. She knew the curse on their lips. The lead Auror began yelling meaningless orders to his subordinates, who started running about to surround her, but Arcana paid them no mind. The dementor halted its advance, hovering cautiously a few meters from Arcana. Its long fingered, rotting hands twitched in uncertainty. It recognized what she was! It had to die now. She could not risk the wizards learning she was fae.

Arcana raised her wand. A sudden gust of wind blew back her cloak and thunder rolled across the very ground. The dementor cried out in agony and the Aurors clasped their hands over their ears, vainly attempting to block out the awful screeching. Protruding from the dementor's ancient, decaying robes was a single silver horn. With one last shriek, the dementor dissolved into fine black dust that wafted away on the wind.

The fiery eyes of the black unicorn were a welcome sight for Arcana. She quickly swung up to sit astride the beast's back behind the great leathery wings. The shocked Aurors began to cast spells at the pair, most of them harmlessly bouncing off the unicorn's wings or the shield Arcana had cast.

"So much for keeping a low profile," Arcana muttered darkly. A small group of students entranced with the action had gathered at the top of the hill near the castle's bridge to this part of the grounds. It was time to go, and the unicorn agreed.

The black unicorn galloped through the squad of Aurors, horn poised to gore anyone that stood in its way. The remaining dementors scattered, hoping to avoid the fate of their fellow, but Arcana could not let any of them escape. The unicorn understood and, with blood curdling neigh, took to the air, giving Arcana a clear shot.

She raised her wand and let the magic run through her.

"Themolta Adiram Horrundus Coiren." She cast the Dark spell over the whipping winds, sending screaming, darkly glowing purplish magic toward the dementors. They shrieked and attempted to flee from the destruction, but were consumed by the spell. Their cries were drowned, and all that remained was black dust. Arcana gripped the black unicorn's flanks with her knees, momentarily reeling from the strength of the spell.

The Aurors quickly recovered from their shock and relentlessly cast volley after volley of curses toward Arcana and the unicorn, but they were too late. The pair crossed the wards and Disapparated.

*** *** *** ***

Arcana and the unicorn reappeared above Slytherin's Valley beyond the anti-Apparition wards. He probably could have safely taken her within the wards, but she was not willing to reveal that capability to the Dark Lord. The black unicorn set down at the cliff's edge near the best path into the valley. He wanted to hunt, and Arcana hurriedly closed her mind to his fierce desire to prevent being swayed. The unicorn tossed his head and snorted in frustration, not understanding why Arcana had to leave.

"I could use a good hunt as well, my friend." Arcana stroked the unicorn's silver-streaked mane. Those Aurors would have made good, if challenging, prey. "Soon, friend. Soon we can hunt again, but now I have a letter to deliver." She dismounted gracefully and reached up to rub the unicorn's shoulder, which was taller than her. Fiery wild eyes asked her to hurry, prompting a crooked smile to quirk her lips. Arcana promised that she would. Appeased, the unicorn neighed and then took to the air and Disapparated silently as the fae.

The grass was burnt black where the unicorn had stood. With a wave of Arcana's hand, it was green again. Despite the fact that both the valley and the surrounding area were unplottable, there was no reason to leave evidence of her passing. Arcana frowned down at the misty treetops. The Dark Lord would not be pleased with the results of her visit to Hogwarts.

The cool damp of the forest helped Arcana focus and let the influence of the unicorn's Wild mind fade. It would be very dangerous to face the Dark Lord while the unicorn's fire still burned within her. There had been no problems with that after the first time, but the possibility loomed in the shadows every time she rode.

The Dark Lord's fortress was quiet in the late afternoon. All of his simpering servants were out wreaking havoc, though probably not in Britain. Arcana sensed that the Dark Lord was back in his laboratory, concentrating on something he deemed important. She gently touched their connection to let him know she had returned and then waited. A response came a few minutes later. The Dark Lord had just finished some delicate work and wanted to see her immediately.

The laboratory's door opened before Arcana knocked, and she hid a scowl of annoyance. The Dark Lord was doing things like that more frequently, and she did not like the idea of him tracking her every movement.

"My hunter has returned," the Dark Lord hissed from a far corner of the room. He was tending several cauldrons and a myriad of other magical devices. "How was your visit to Dumbledore's haven?"

"They accepted my status as emissary, and I have your reply, my lord," Arcana spoke emotionlessly. The Dark Lord narrowed his eyes, knowing that there was more.

"What else happened, hunter? I know you would not hide anything from me." He moved toward Arcana, a dangerous gleam in his eyes. She was glad she had remembered to fold down her collar and remove her dark glasses. He was in that kind of mood today. Hiding her face and eyes made it harder for the Dark Lord to read her surface thoughts and emotions - something he considered his right as her lord. He usually saw little even when in eye contact, and, as he considered himself a master Legilimens, this irked him greatly.

"Of course not, my lord." Arcana handed Dumbledore's letter to the Dark Lord and placed her hat on top of a tall pile of spellbooks. He made no move to open the letter, watching Arcana expectantly.

"Most of the visit was quite uneventful, but there were complications," she explained coldly. "The Ministry interfered, much to Dumbledore's displeasure I might add, and sent a squad of Aurors and dementors to . . . ah . . . 'arrest me.'" She sneered and let her disgust taint her words, knowing that the Dark Lord would approve. I tried to leave without making a scene, but the dementors could track me and I was forced to destroy them." The Dark Lord's face remained unreadable. "The black unicorn came to my aid during the fight and some students saw as well."

"The students and the Aurors saw you, my hunter?" The Dark Lord's tone edged toward rage.

"None could identify me, my lord," she added hastily, keeping an eye on the Dark Lord's wand hand. "I think they assumed I was one of your Death Eaters. They even promised me a fair trial."

The Dark Lord sneered down at Arcana, "For your sake, my fae, you had better pray that your show did not attract unwanted attention. The ability to destroy dementors is not common here, as I'm sure you know."

"Yes, my lord, but I had no choice," she explained worriedly. "They recognized that I wasn't human. The risk was too great not to destroy them."

"Ah." The Dark Lord gave Arcana a calculating look. "That is most interesting." He turned away from her without another word and went to read Dumbledore's response.

Arcana sighed quietly in relief and resisted the urge to take a hold of her left forearm. She would not let the Dark Lord see that the brand was indeed a constant reminder of his power.

The faint glow of the magical wards she had placed around Kalrash's grimoire attracted Arcana's attention. The book still sat where she had left it, closed and showing no sign of threat. Recognizing it had an audience, the book awoke and began to whisper raspy words in a fae tongue. Arcana waited until it had become bored with taunting her and then queried it for information. She was still unsure how much the uncooperative lump of parchment knew about the demon knowledge the Dark Lord sought.

It soon became apparent that the book either did not know anything else, or would not tell her. Arcana had refused to tell it about the mistake Kalrash had made in her magical theory, fearing that it was somehow still connected to its author. Ever since it realized that she would remain silent, it had become much more vicious, forcing her to cast stronger wards to keep it restrained.

With that last avenue blocked, Arcana would need to go to Alexandria to search for the answers that still eluded her despite months of research. It was as if no one had written down the name of the demon, which she thought was perhaps evidence of Wizarding intelligence given what little she had learned about the monster.

The Dark Lord could handle the matter thenceforth. Unfortunately he would probably survive the summoning unless the demon was particularly strong. If the demon did manage to overpower him it would be unable to break the chains of the summoning and would have to go back from whence it came, likely taking the Dark Lord with it. That would be a day of celebration for Arcana. The only demons that could break the binding circles of a summoning ritual were the Iddimu - truly terrifying beings of immense power. Luckily they were few in number, and Arcana had never heard of wizards trying to summon them.

Only a little longer, and then she could wash her hands of the whole foul mess. She was certainly not foolish enough to summon, and not even the Dark Lord would ask that of her.

The Dark Lord returned to his cauldrons, leaving the letter half-read. It looked like she would not have to make another visit to Hogwarts soon, which was good since she was not sure she could stomach it. Green steam rose from one cauldron when the Dark Lord carefully added the next ingredient. He then gestured to a spiraling glass device, which activated and sucked in the poisonous-looking fumes. A few more drops of the viscous, verdigris liquid pooled in its round holding flask. Assured that things were progressing properly, the Dark Lord looked at Arcana expectantly.

"I need to go to Alexandria, my lord." Arcana carefully wove through the room to the Dark Lord's desk. "I am at a dead end here and it may be the only chance of naming the demon and learning how to summon it."

"And you have access to the Great Library, hunter?" Arcana nodded, trying to ignore his dangerous tone and flashing red eyes. She was treading on thin ice. "You should have told me this earlier." The Dark Lord left his cauldrons.

"I didn't think I would need to go, my lord." Arcana held her ground as he approached. "And I prefer not to risk being in the open. If that alter-ego is seen looking into soul magic and demon summoning, questions may arise. It is not exactly what that persona has been known for, for good reason."

"You could always use a different glamour, hunter."

"Yes, my lord, but it is very difficult to obtain access to the Library. It could take years, decades to gain it again." She had established too many useful connections under her preferred glamour to bring it under scrutiny.

The Dark Lord frowned, but did not dispute her logic. "Hunt tonight, then you have one week to pursue this."

"Thank you, my lord." Arcana bowed, hiding the smile tugging at her lips. A week was more than she expected, and it was a gift to have time away. "I need to prepare for the hunt then." The Dark Lord nodded dismissively and returned to reading the letter.