Book 4: Chapter 23 (1/2)

“This is it,” Helena said. She glanced at the demon standing beside her. The two were standing in front of a church. “You really have a plan?”

“Of course,” Tafel said. “I guarantee that it likely won’t fail.”

Helena thought it over and asked, “You mean you guarantee there’s a chance of failure?” However, before she could finish her sentence, Tafel had already pushed open the door to the church. When the door swung open, a gust of wind swept in from behind, rustling Helena’s skirt. She inched to the side to peek over Tafel’s shoulder and gasped. The church was filled to the brim. Everyone from the town was inside, and all of their heads were turned to stare at the entrance.

Tafel was unphased as she stepped inside and looked around. Surprisingly, no one screamed, but a child did start crying. His mother clamped her hand over his mouth and turned his head towards herself. Tafel strolled down the aisle, ignoring the people sitting on the benches, and stopped once she reached the podium where a lavishly dressed priest was standing with a pale face. He was the same man that proclaimed Helena as a witch. He raised a trembling arm and pointed at Tafel. “Y-you can’t be here. This is the house of the Lord.”

Tafel placed her hands on her hips. “I’m here now. What are you going to do about it?”

The priest looked around, but all he saw was the fear in the faces of the townsmen. He took a step back and almost tripped. He glanced behind himself and saw a short sword embedded in an altar at the base of a statue. It was a decorative sword meant to be used symbolically for some performances, but it was still better than no sword at all. He drew it and whirled around, pointing it at Tafel. “I’m going—”

Thwap!

The sword flew through the air and embedded itself into the wall. The priest stared at Tafel with a blank expression. She had used her bare hand to smack the sword away. “Your posture is terrible,” Tafel said and put her right hand back on her hip. “Your grip was completely wrong too. If you’re not used to wielding swords, you shouldn’t play around with them.”

“E-everyone!” the priest said. “If we work together, we can kill this devil! This is a trial from God!”

Tafel raised her hand as her horns shone with a blue light. Two domes of ice rose out of the ground and encaged the townsmen sitting on the benches. Tafel left holes inside of ice to let the townsmen breathe. There were a few shocked gasps, but no one shouted or try to break the ice. They huddled together and lowered their heads instead. The priest’s jaws dropped at the sight, and he took another step back. “W-what do you want?” he asked, not daring to look Tafel in the eyes. He clasped his cross necklace and stared at the ground, wanting to sink into it and disappear.

“I just want you to know that I’m not a devil, and Helena’s not a witch.” Tafel gestured for Helena to come over. “According to her, the church falsely accuses people of being witches in order to take their wealth and property.”

“That’s not true!” the priest said and raised his head. He withered under Tafel’s glare, his head shrinking down into his shoulders.

“Are you calling Helena a liar?” Tafel asked and raised an eyebrow.

“She’s a witch,” the priest mumbled. “A-and how can you say you’re not a devil when you have horns on your head and purple eyes?”

“I’m a demon,” Tafel said.

The priest swallowed his spit. “Is, is there a difference between summoning a demon and a devil? A demon is simply the underling of a devil! If a woman forms a contract with a demon, it’s the same thing as forming a contract with a devil.”