We were in the headquarters of the Isle of Mid’s city watch. Bars on the windows, bars on the cells, and wards just about everywhere. Most people would feel safe, but I wasn’t most people. One, I was a Benares, and we didn’t feel safe anywhere there were bars, unless it had bar stools and a lot of rum, which I could use a shot or two of right now. Two, according to Vegard, things were on their way here that iron bars and wards couldn’t hold, at least not for very long. Every Guardian and watcher was now on full alert. Anyone on leave was being recalled, and a day off had just turned into on duty. The demonology department faculty was aware of the situation and was taking steps. I hoped they were big ones.

I hadn’t seen any demons on the way here. Aside from a lot of heavily armed men, daily life and classes seemed to be business as usual. Word had to be getting around about the demon in the Quad, but as of yet, there was no terror in the streets. Then again, on an island full of magic users, seeing a demon might not be all that unusual. If we were lucky, people thought that a demonology grad student’s class project had escaped or something. The last thing the authorities on Mid needed right now were panicked citizens.

The possibility of an impending demon invasion did deflect some uncomfortable questions. Vegard told the chief watcher that I didn’t murder that elven mage. It was Vegard’s word and the word of his Guardians versus the groundless accusations of citizens with an overdeveloped mob mentality. My accusers had come out of hiding only after the fight was over; what they had seen was me confirming that the dead elven mage was indeed dead. It wasn’t my fault they mistook confirmation for carnage.

My being wrongly accused of murder wasn’t anyone’s biggest concern right now, and fortunately, neither was the other thing that I’d done.