“So this world is quite empty,” said the demon.

  Im had to admit it was true. “Who might have guessed my city was the only one?” They stood on a desote shore, gazing out over a seemingly endless sea. The two had just crossed a seemingly endless desert. “Is there no life anywhere?”

  “In the sea,” rumbled Qu’orthseth. “There must be life there to make the air you breathe.” The monstrous red creature did not need air itself, as far as its young human companion could tell. Im had noted no rising and falling of its chest, nor any orifice through which a vapor might pass.

  Nor any other substance, for that matter. Im desperately needed a substance of some sort in his own stomach. “Life, you say? Edible?”

  The demon only shrugged. Its face like a smooth, bnk shield, this was one of the few ways it could physically express itself. “Poisonous, maybe, to you. I do not think your people are native to this world.”

  Im had to admit that made sense. Why else would there be only their one city and naught else? “I shall need food soon or I shall perish. You know what happens then.”

  Qu’orthseth did. The moment Im died, it would be whisked back to its native realm and a most unpleasant demon prison. Yes, that would inevitably happen some day but the great crimson beast would prefer to put it off. “We could return to Hirstel,” it suggested.

  Both knew that was not at all a good idea. The Prince-Sorcerer, Piras Tindeval, would surely put an end to Im and send Qu’orthseth to its unpleasant fate. But at least there should be food. None would be found elsewhere in this world.

  So they must leave it. “Perhaps the grimoire can show you a way,” suggested the demon. “I can not read it.”

  What? No, no, Qu’orthseth wasn’t ignorant. Remember its bnk face? No eyes. Now back to our story. Oh, and it is not a good idea to refer to a demon as a ‘dummy.’

  This grimoire y at the root of their problems, for Im had attempted to steal it and set all that happened in motion. He was not the first to attempt this but he was the first to succeed. “How did Tindeval get you from your world to this one?” asked the young man, as he leafed through the pages.

  “Normal summoning. The problem with that is I am not completely here. A part of me remains tethered to my pce of origin.”

  Im was bright and caught onto what that might mean. “That is why you will be swept back there if I die.” Qu’orthseth only nodded. “And we can not completely escape this world if we use that method.”

  “Well,” came the demon’s incredibly low growl, “I’m not exactly here anyway. The problem for you,” it continued, “is that you might be pulled back here eventually —” Qu’orthseth considered that. “Will be pulled back here, wherever you might go. Beyond that I am uncertain but I do know your body would not retain any sustenance you might summon from elsewhere. It, too, would return to its pce of origin in time.”

  I could not begin to count how many questions came into Im’s head, but only one really mattered. “How then can we go, ah, somewhere else?” He began to turn the pages of the leather-bound book again. None of it seemed overly useful, the volume rgely consisting of an exceptionally long list of demons that might be commanded. “We need a portal, don’t we?” Im had come on a section that mentioned such a thing but was irritatingly sketchy about how to find and use one.

  “Your guess is as good as mine,” rumbled the wine-colored being. “Maybe better.”

  Im sat down on a smooth, sun-baked rock and stared out across the water. The sea was the color of ste; a chill wind blew in from it. The boy had never felt a cool damp breeze before. They did not exist in his city of Hirstel, set among the lifeless dunes of a vast desert. “So we can assume my ancestors — those of my people — came through one of these portals.” He looked down at the page before him, and flipped to the next. “Or gates or doors. Tindeval’s grimoire uses all those names.”

  The massive monster had to agree this made sense. “Therefor,” continued Im, “it might be conjectured that their gate was perhaps not so far from where they live now.” He read on and then shook his head. “Oh. Many go only one direction.”

  “Which could be why they stayed in this forsaken pce.” The demon’s voice sounded even more full of despair than normal; at best, it was like the distant howling of a desert storm wind.

  “Or the world they fled was one to which they feared to return.”

  They both considered that and felt it could be so. “It would have to be pretty bad to be worse than this one,” felt Qu’orthseth, “but there might be food. For you, that is; I draw my nourishment from the sun of my native realm.”

  Im considered his gargantuan companion for a moment. “Would you still be able to if we went through a gate? It says here that it breaks any bonds that exist.”

  “Hmmm. I’m not sure, little sorcerer. It might free me, eh?” Its chuckle was muffled thunder. “But I would then starve!”

  Im was thinking. What if he summoned a demon who actually knew something, instead of this big red dummy?

  No, I didn’t call it a dummy. Im did. I’m just a storyteller!

  How about this one? He couldn’t quite make out the meaning of some of the thoroughly antiquated words, but they suggested that this Xido was a wise and reasonably benevolent being. With a few precautions — yes, he would try it, Im decided. Better than dying here!

  He went down onto the gray sand beach and drew a circle with his foot, adding proper magical signs to ward its perimeter. “I hope this will hold him,” he mumbled, more to himself than the demon. Qu’orthseth didn’t seem to be paying much attention anyway.

  But then, Im had come to realize it didn’t see — or sense, we should say — the world about it in the same manner as a human. Scratchings in the sand might be meaningless. It might not even be able to tell they were there. So the young man spoke the words he found in the great book of Piras Tindeval and waited.

  Nothing happened. No demon appeared in the circle. It was most disappointing.

  “One comes,” spoke Qu’orthseth. Im looked up the beach to see a slender, sinewy man, not very tall and quite bck of skin, approaching. “He has power. I can feel it.”

  Ah, the being he called had materialized outside the ring, too powerful, maybe, to be contained. Im must make the best of it and hope to survive. “Greetings, sir,” he called. “Might you be the demon Xido?”

  “Demon, my boy? I am a god! Xido the Trickster and not at all at your service.” He gnced at Qu’orthseth. “How did one of those get here?”

  “It’s a long story, Master.” The demon turned to its human companion. “You can’t see both his forms, can you?”

  Im shook his head. “That is fortunate,” Qu’orthseth told him.

  Xido had noted the grimoire, left by Im on one of the ft dark rocks. He casually leafed through it, smiling now and again. “This expins much. How came you by Tindeval’s greatest treasure?”

  “I climbed his tower and, ah, managed to leave again.”

  “Stole it? A d after my own heart!” The god idly turned the book over in his hands before repcing it. “I could take it from you and leave you here to perish, but that is not my way. You are looking to escape, aren’t you?”

  Im admitted they were. “We seek a portal. Maybe the one that brought my people here.”

  The dark deity considered this. “It might be safe to return. They came escaping war and wars do end. Indeed,” he went on, “it would not be a bad idea for all the people of Hirstel to return one of these days. But they will not want to. This is one of those worlds where magic comes too easily, where anyone can wield sorcerous power.”

  Xido gave him a sardonic look. “Even boys who summon gods to them.”

  “Um, sorry, my Lord Xido. I couldn’t tell from the book and it seemed to say you were wise.”

  “‘Cunning’ it says,” Xido told him, “not that I mind ‘wise.’ But it’s no problem, my d. You didn’t really pull me here. I was intrigued by the attempted summoning and decided to come and see what was up.”

  “Can you get us out, Great Xido?” asked Qu’orthseth.

  “I know the way. Or used to. But there is a price.” He nodded toward the grimoire. “You must give it to me.”

  Remembering that this god could take it anyway, Im nodded an agreement. “Do you need such a book, my lord? I mean, being a god and all.” It was perhaps not the most tactful question but Im wondered a great deal at the things going on in his young life.

  Xido’s answer was, “I’ll give it back to the Prince-Sorcerer of Hirstel. Your people would surely perish without his magic to sustain them.” The deity sat down on one of the rocks. “You needn’t call me lord or any of that. Xido is good enough, or even Xit.” He again idly leafed through the great hide-bound book. “If you knew enough of how to use this book, you could probably summon a meal to yourself. Send one of those lesser demons you Hirstelites employ to go and fetch it from your city.” He chuckled. “And if you really knew how to use the book you could hurl Tindeval down and take his pce. Or build a tower and city of your own right here.”

  Im considered this. “It sounds — boring. Now that I know about other worlds, I think I’d rather go see one or two of them.”

  “Me too,” rumbled the demon. “I spent too much time bound to that lonely room.”

  “I do hate to lose that book,” admitted Im.

  “It might prove of little use to you in another world,” Xido told him, rising. “That would depend on the world. So let’s go.” He looked to Qu’orthseth. “I suppose you will have to carry us.”

  “Where to, my lord?” asked the beast, not in any way willing to address this god as ‘Xit.’

  “Back to Hirstel!” Xido ughed. “Fear not, boy, I’ll keep you safe.”