Knock, knock, Brother Zachariah said. “What?” Sister Emilia said. He said again, Don’t pay any attention to Belial. He thrives on it. It’s not real. It’s illusions. Nothing more. Demons won’t kill those they owe a debt to. Knock, knock. “Who’s there?” she said. Spell. Sister Emilia’s throat was so dry she could barely speak at all. The pommel of her sword was blazingly hot, as if she had her hand in the heart of a forge. “Spell who?” If you insist, Brother Zachariah said. W-H-O.
