“You sure you don’t want me to help?”

We were back at the hotel room, and despite his jests, Magnus had indeed set about the not-so-rock-and-roll task of cleaning the bleach and remainder of the bloodstain from the mattress. He was winning, and had told me to relax and “freshen up”.

So, I was wrapped up snug in a plush, white dressing gown, damp hair sticking to my face and neck, curled on a chair and watching Magnus destroy yet another towel blotting the bed clean. My eyes kept drifting to the paper bag on the desk next to me, but I didn’t succumb to the temptation to sneak a look.

“All good,” he chirped, rocking back on his haunches then shifting to kneel more comfortably beside the bed. He tossed the light red-stained towel aside and considered the now-too-clean spot on the mattress. “Think we got away with it.”

He faced me then, gathering up the towels and putting them in the plastic bag he had brought his shopping in with that morning. A set of store-bought towels had already replaced the blood-wrecked ones, and there was no reason housekeeping would spot the sneaky switcheroo.

For the first time in twenty-four hours, things seemed stable.

“You can have a look at the book if you want.”

My lips parted in surprise; I hadn’t even noticed I was glowering at the paper bag again until Magnus chimed in, a nervous chuckle wrapped around his words. “I kinda bought it for you, in a way.”

That piqued my already-tempted curiosity. I uncurled from my comfy position on the chair and reached out for the bag, pulling the hardback book free.

The shiny dust-cover was nothing too exciting—an off-white paper printed with a border of strange creatures in black ink. In red writing within the border, the book’s title was embellished in a sloping, italic font.

“Goetia: The Lesser Key of Solomon the King.” I read out the title and traced a finger along it, then peeked out from under my bowed head at Magnus. “Sounds a bit more death metal than rock.”

Magnus didn’t bite onto the jest. Instead, he was fidgetting with his jacket sleeves, fingers twitching around the leather as he paced one step, two steps, then back, waiting for an answer to a question he hadn’t asked yet. It was clear that my response to this meant something, but what, I could not yet say.

Inhaling, I opened the book and began to flip through it, seeking out anything that might link Magnus’ odd behaviour to any sort of answer. It landed open on a page depicting a simple drawing of a humanoid creature covered in downy feathers. Its feet were like a crow’s, yet it had feather-covered arms like a man, a beaked face, and wings sprouting from its back.

The feather-cloaked hands stirred a cold, sickly syrup through my gut, and I couldn’t help but think of the horrid shadow I had seen in the mirror the previous night and dismissed as a tired hallucination.

“Marquis Faenyx…” I read out his name under my breath, noting the list of alternate spellings for the creature’s name: Phenex, Pheynix…Phoenix… “A phoenix? Like, the mythical creature? Magnus, what is this?”

I picked up a few more pages between my fingers and flicked through them with my thumb, a kaleidoscope of strange monsters and beasts with humans limbs and peculiar proportions flashing through the book. Duke Astaroth, Prince Stolas, King Asmoday, Duke Dantalion…

“Faenyx isn’t that kind of phoenix…” Magnus stuttered, words tumbling from his mouth though his whole body was taut, as though fighting to hold his voice at bay. “He’s a lot older than the thing you’re thinking of. And a lot less…glorious.”

I turned back to Faenyx’s page given that Magnus had mentioned him specifically. I smoothed the paper out, then read aloud:

“Faenyx…a Great Marquis of…” I paused, looking to Magnus for any sign of this being a joke. “…of Hell? Twenty legions of demons under his control…is an excellent poet, oh that’s nice…conjuror…wants to return to Heaven…sings…can take a human shape—”

He can’t be serious, I thought to myself as the pieces began to fall into place to create a ridiculous tapestry.

“Stella,” Magnus’ voice cut through my disbelief as I stared down at the book in my lap. “Do you believe in any of that? In…demons?”