The morning light brought no comfort to these troubled souls. Charlie apologized for coming so early and letting himself in. Emma didn’t mind though. She was so excited about her discoveries last night. She was eager to open a window to the Gray World and prove once and for all that she really was a witch. She practically bounced between the steps, exploding with energy despite only getting a few hours sleep. Then she looked down at the missing top three buttons of her dress, and she slowed. Only six left — she couldn’t waste her little animal skulls just by showing off. She would need more.

  “I like your dress,” Charlie said meekly from behind her on the stairs.

  “Thank you. I think it’s only appropriate.”

  Charlie’s hands were in his pockets, cradling the precious blue mushrooms. He shouldn’t have followed her out of the kitchen. He needed to get this deal over with. But it broke his heart watching Emma so happy and full of life as she skipped up the stairs. If only there was another way.

  “Did you notice all the clocks are still saying midnight?” Charlie asked.

  “Yes. And I noticed the portraits have gone back to color again. And the daemon in the oven is awake and happy. And the window in the mirror — that’s not to the Gray World, That’s somewhere else. And I even noticed you wearing an extra layer of clothing this morning, because you’re afraid. And there’s so much more to show you besides. A witch notices most everything, and always more than she says.”

  “You know about the Gray World?” Charlie asked, bewildered.

  “Uh huh. I read about it in a book after you went home.”

  Emma stopped short at the top of the stairs. Charlie nearly ran into her. Her head slowly turned to profile, speaking from the side of her mouth: “But how does Charlie know about the Gray World?”

  “I really did know your grandmother better than you did. The good and the bad.”

  Emma entered the library and summoned the flaming chandelier to life. “What sort of bad?”

  Charlie stood in the doorway and leaned against the frame. “The greedy kind of bad. Mrs. Orwell never had enough power. Think how many people she could have helped. But she lived alone, and didn’t use her magic for you or your family. I wonder what she even wanted her wishes for. But she couldn’t let some mysteries just stay mysteries. I think it drove her crazy in the end.”

  Emma remembered her last conversation with grandmother Orwell. It had been grandmother who said something like: you have to enjoy the questions with no answers, or be driven mad by them. Emma had been the one to say all mysteries can be uncovered. It really did seem like grandmother knew what was going to happen to her before she died. She wanted to warn Emma away from the same fate.

  Emma studied Charlie again, her face scrunched, her nose wrinkled, in visceral concentration. “What did she do to you, Charlie?”

  Charlie coughed. “What did you want to show me?”

  They were both interrupted by a scratching sound. Charlie looked down at his phone. “It’s almost 6 AM. The sun will be rising soon. I wish there were windows in here.”

  The scratching was getting louder. It sounded like something on the back of the shelves. No, fainter still — it was coming from outside the library tower. Emma strode cautiously to the bookshelves, running her fingers alone the spines.

  “Do you hear —” Charlie began.

  “Of course. It’s getting light outside. The daemons will need a dark place to find shelter. I think they’re finally coming home.”

  The sound completely encompassed them now. There must be several daemons, maybe even all six, each climbing a part of the round tower. Emma considered how sharp their claws must be to dig into the stone and be audible all the way in here.

  Charlie went for the box with the hunting rifle.

  “Don’t do that,” Emma chided.

  “Why not? They’ll remember this from last time.”

  “We’ll get in real trouble if it goes off again. I forgot to tell you — the police also stopped by after you left last night. Officer Dave, I think — didn’t get the woman’s name. Someone called them about the gunshot. I want you to put that thing away this instant.”

  Charlie lifted the hunting rifle out and closed the case with his foot. “I only managed to stop the daemons taking you last time because of the gun.”

  Emma frowned. It was hard to concentrate with the scratching so close. It seemed like the daemons were clinging to the tower at the right elevation, maneuvering themselves around to try and listen in. She trusted her daemons though, because she trusted her grandmother. And grandmother would not deal with something truly evil.

  “That business where they grabbed me on the roof was all a misunderstanding! The daemons loved my grandmother deeply. They had an emotional reaction when she died. It is completely understandable. And anyway, what I’ve been trying to show you is that I know a banishment spell now if anything goes wrong. Hey, are you listening? I can get rid of them if we need to, so drop the gun!”

  But Charlie clutched it to his chest. “There’s part of the story with Mrs. Orwell that I haven’t told you. I haven’t been truthful to you at all, and I’m sorry for that.”

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  The daemons were on the move again. They skittered up the walls outside. The sound vanished for a moment, and then came again from the roof. Emma strained her neck up.

  “Then hurry up and tell me the truth. But first turn off the library lights. I don’t want them to be afraid.”

  Charlie shook his head. “The gun stays with me. The lights stay on. They don’t mind the firelight so much anyway. You’re going to have to take my lead now, Emma. You’re going to have to still trust me, even after I tell you how I lied before.”

  The sound grew louder, the scratching more urgent. It seemed like they were burrowing straight through the roof.

  “I will decide whether to trust you after you tell me the truth!” Then to the roof, Emma shouted: “Hey daemons! What did I leave the front door open for? Get down from there and come in properly!” Emma shouted in agitation.

  “It was true that your grandmother got my parents back together. But that was only last week. And the reason they’re together again is because of the shared grief from losing my brother Freddie. Mrs. Orwell stole him from us.”

  “She would never.”

  “Your grandmother tricked us. She gave me a daemon egg too, and promised me a wish if Freddie and I came with her into the woods. But her deal wasn’t really with us at all — it was with the daemon. The one called ‘The Master’. My brother and I were a sort of gift for him.”

  “Dead lords sitting on their thrones….” Emma murmured the words from her spell. She thought about the tall human shaped shadows who bowed before grandmother’s body.

  “I don’t know how it happened, but my egg wasn’t like yours. Mine hatched right away when the window to the Gray World opened. I was so afraid of that place, Emma. And such claws came through, you can’t imagine. They were dragging me across the ground. But my little daemon hatched from its egg, and something magical was in the air. You know the warm feeling from touching the egg? If that was a candle, then I was inside the sun. Just for a moment — just long enough to make my wish and escape.”

  Bits of sawdust and plaster were beginning to fall from the ceiling. The daemons would be through any moment. Emma straightened her dress, and made sure the skull buttons were in a line. She closed her eyes and silently recited the banishment spell.

  “I wasn’t thinking,” Charlie continued. “I was so scared. I wish I could go back and wish again, and save my brother instead. But I was only thinking about myself, and now he’s gone. And I was so angry at myself for losing him. I only did what I did to make things right again.”

  “You only did what?” Emma asked testily. She didn’t trust a word of it.

  “I made a deal with The Master. He would give my brother back, and I would give him Mrs. Orwell’s granddaughter.”

  Emma turned away from the ceiling. She stared in horror at Charlie, and the hunting rifle still crossed over his chest.

  “I didn’t even know you,” Charlie stammered. “I just wanted my family to be whole again. And now I think the daemons have come to collect on our contract.”

  “Then why are you telling me all this? Why not just give me to them?”

  “Because I want you to still trust me. I’m going to make things right. I’ll just pretend to be helping the daemons, but I’ll really be with you—”

  It seemed like Charlie wanted to say more. He was interrupted when the hole in the roof finally gave way. In tumbled the familiar chicken daemons. Black bodies writhed and twisted and wriggled over one another to get inside. They dropped into the room like bats, spreading wings of churning smoke to fill the air with ghastly beating. They swirled and chittered around the flames of the chandelier.

  “Do they really want to take me to the Gray World?” Emma asked in disbelief. She knew she should cast her spell already and banish them. But that meant believing what Charlie said about grandmother Orwell, and that couldn’t be true. And that meant losing her daemons. She would never forgive herself for that if she lived to be a hundred and four. Why should she trust any of what Charlie said? They were her daemons! They would serve her!

  “I’ve got the witch!” Charlie called to the circling monsters. “I am giving her to you! Do you understand? My side of the bargain is done.” Then turning to Emma, he winked while pointing the hunting rifle directly at her. “I’m so sorry. This isn’t the end. I’m going to get you out again.”

  “No Charlie. I’m the one who is sorry,” Emma said softly. “I thought I was a better judge of character than that.”

  Emma was forced to choose who to believe: her eyes and ears, or her heart. Some mysteries were better off left unraveled. Now the answers were clear at last, and Emma wished to still be in the dark. It was better to wonder about grandmother’s mystical life than to know for certain what horrible things she’d done. Emma wished that… she thought of her egg. It was still below the desk, hidden in her backpack. But she didn’t know how Charlie was able to hatch it. There was only one thing left she could do.

  The daemons of smoke descended upon them. There was no time left to waste. Emma straightened her dress again, then quickly recited the words:

  “Window home, made of bone,

  dead lords sitting on their thrones.

  Window home, all alone,

  gone to the Gray World to atone.”

  The daemons reared back at once into the library rafters. Three more animal skull buttons on Emma’s dress went dark. Soon the larger skull of smoke formed in the air, with its window opening into the Gray World.

  “Don’t do that!” Charlie shouted. He pointed the gun at the floating skull and fired. The explosive sound was jarring no matter how many times Emma heard. it. The bullet passed through the opening window as if it were made of smoke. “You shouldn’t use their own magic to banish them. You’ll end up as bad as your grandmother!”

  “I made a mistake about you. But I’m not wrong about my pets. They’re not the one’s I’m sending away. You’re the real daemon here. This spell needs proof of my hurt, but I carry it with me in my heart for ever thinking you a friend.”

  “Please stop. I don’t want to go!”

  Dark claws reached from the Gray World through the portal Emma opened. Charlie fired the gun again, and Emma flinched. The bullet passed through the claws, but the claws didn’t pass through Charlie the same way. They seized him around the throat. They lifted him straight from the ground. He clutched at the gnarled black arm with both hands, dropping the rifle to the floor. His hands only passed through the thing which dragged him into the portal.

  “Be more gentle!” Emma scolded.

  Her pet daemons laughed and chattered as they orbited Emma’s head in a frenzy now. A hurricane of smoky wings fluttered the pages of the books on her desk.

  “Don’t do this!” Charlie begged.

  “I will never let myself be lied to again,” Emma snapped, hearing grandmother speaking through her. “You said horrible things about my grandmother. She would never do something like that to your brother. And even if she did, then he must have deserved it, just like you do now.”

  The dark claw had almost completely pulled Charlie into the window. As he got closer, the more like smoke he appeared to be. His hands and feet were fading and and dissolving before her eyes. Desperately, he dug his hands into his pockets and flung a handful of something small and blue at Emma.

  “Throw these into the oven! I told the truth, you can see for yourself!” And Charlie was gone. The skull closed up again, and then dissolved into the air without a trace of him.

  Emma knelt to the ground and picked up the little blue mushrooms. She looked up at her pet daemons swirling around her.

  “Well?” Emma shouted at them bitterly. “Would you like to be next? Are you ready to go home to the Gray World? Or are you finally ready to sign new contracts with me?”