“Harriett, Feron, are you two alright down there? I heard a zapping noise that I’m sure wasn’t natural.” If the spirit orbs that had descended into the basement hadn’t given Harriett’s mother’s presence away, the sound of her thoughtful, and yet soon to be scolding words coming from the first floor of the house were definitely dead giveaways.

The sound of the basement door opening and closing was soon followed by the sound of rushing footsteps as Harriett’s mother came into view. As always, Harriett’s mother was never idle in her actions. Her braided black hair was tied into a ponytail and a handkerchief was tied around her forehead. She had on some raggedy looking clothes that immediately told Harriett that her mother had been cleaning some part of the house for the third time this week. And yet, despite being covered in dust, grime, and some kind of dirt-looking, supernatural substance that Harriett most definitely didn’t want to ask about (No, not even I am going to tell you. It’s gross. Don’t give the pages that look!), Harriett’s mother was still one of the most beautiful people to ever walk this and a few other planes of existences.

“By the looks of things,” Caroline Carefree began to say as she approached the two teenagers, “it seems as though once again, my daughter was trying to do the impossible and her best friend, aka my practically adopted son, was encouraging her in his own annoying way.”

“Wow, Mrs. C., no one trusts me to be good for once in my life, do they?” Feron shot back over his shoulder as he rubbed his right cheek for some unknown, and yet known reason.

“Please, Feron, I’ve known your father for years. And even though he’s been alive for many more lifetimes than myself, I still don’t trust him to act his best even in the most important of matters.”

“Oh, come now, mother, he can’t be that bad,” Harriett interjected as she took the gauntlet off and proceeded to remove the chip she had just installed earlier. “I mean, he is a king and all. Doesn’t he have to be kingly at all times?”

“You have obviously never been over our castle enough for one of my father’s family gatherings,” Feron added to the conversation.

“And she never will if I have anything to say about it,” Mrs. Carefree added, “I know for a fact that your father still hasn’t cleaned up the dungeon after the last family feud he caused. Gosh, the paperwork I had to turn in to S.A.M. for that debacle…,” Mrs. Carefree’s body gave off a shiver before she collected herself, “Never in a million years, Harriett.”

“Did you mean S.A.M. as in Uncle Sam, mom? Or S.A.M. as in the Supernatural and Magical Council S.A.M.?” Harriett asked her mother just as she finished securing the gauntlet and the chip on the table.

“Yes, to both, sweetie,” Harriett’s mother gently replied as she approached Harriett’s workshop table. Harriett followed her mother’s vision as her mom set her sights on the gauntlet. An inquisitive look bore its way onto Caroline Carefree’s face, which meant one of two things to Harriett: Either her mother was impressed with it, or her mother was impressed with it before wanting to confiscate it. Either way, Harriett didn’t have a good feeling about it.

“May I?” Mrs. Carefree asked her daughter, her right hand pointing towards the gauntlet.

“Uh, sure!” Harriett gleefully replied. If she wished to keep her current project for herself, cooperation was key, and Harriett had been doing this for 18 years. She picked the gauntlet back up and began to reinsert the circuit board. “I had only removed the circuit board to stop any accidental discharges just in case any further electricity was still stored in the gauntlet in some way in which I hadn’t accounted for.”

“Ah, I see. Then the block having no power was in fact your doing, huh, dear daughter?”

Harriett’s body gave a nervous twitch as she felt her mother’s eyes now boring into her right shoulder. But Harriett collected herself enough to continue working on the gauntlet. “Maybe, I mean, if it were my doing, it would only speak volumes about how successful my current project is going.”

“You say that about every project, dear,” Mrs. Carefree added.

“She’s right. You do,” Feron annoyingly added.

“Whose side are you on, Feron?” Harriett bellowed towards her best friend.

Feron raised a hand and pointed a finger towards Caroline Carefree. “The side that prevents me from taking the blame for your blunder.”

“Oh no, we’re The Three Musketeers on this one, Feron. One for all, and you fall with me,” Harriett said with a sneer.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not the saying, Harriett. Plus, there’s only two of us.” 

“Three if you count Harriett’s mental buddy,” Mrs. Carefree added, causing herself and Feron to share a smile at Harriett’s expense.

“He’s not my buddy,” Harriett pouted.

“He begs to differ,” Mrs. Carefree replied. “In fact, he hasn’t stopped talking about meeting you this Tuesday since we agreed on this little get together.”

Harriett’s face dropped as she suddenly was reminded of the fact that the little get together with her mental, demon lord tenant, his wife, and his youngest daughter was in fact this week. “Shoot,” Harriett snapped, “That’s this week? I thought I had more time.”

“More time to what, dear? To prepare for our big guest?”  Mrs. Carefree asked.

“Yeah, if by prepare, you mean work on my kickboxing so that he’ll get out of my head, then yes. I was going to prepare.” Harriett mimicked the great boxers of old by throwing a decent left jab before her mother. Her mother didn’t seem impressed. Neither did Feron. (Granted, maybe if she had put the glove on, it might have been more impressive. But fate can’t risk another possible energy blast escaping from that glove. Not yet, at least. *Totally not an evil smile here*)

“Clearly, your skills would leave him overwhelmed, my child,” Mrs. Carefree said in that condescending, motherly tone that meant “Never in a million years” to Harriett. Harriett didn’t have to search deep into her mind to hear that same old, annoying demonic laugh.

“Oh my god, are you ever not eavesdropping?” Harriett bellowed more to the room than to her own head. Though Harriett didn’t see it so much as felt it, she nevertheless could feel the Demon Lord shrugging deep within her mind.

“Is he there? Oh, oh, ask him if he wants me to make some lemon cakes for him and his family to take home with them when they leave,” Mrs. Carefree exclaimed. “Oh, also, tell him I said hi and ask him how his wife is doing.”

“Jeez, mother, why don’t you just call him yourself?” Harriett coldly asked.

“What, and risk the interplanar interest charge to the Underworld like that? I’ll pass. Your free of charge head works much better,” Mrs. Carefree replied with a smile to her daughter. Harriett offered no such returned smile.

“Tell her yes for me, human child. But please do it with a demonic tone to your voice.” It was rare for the demon lord, Lord Aesir, to speak directly to Harriett in her mind. But when he did actually decide to grace Harriett with his oh so magnificent presence, Harriett always handled him with the grace and dignity that befitted a demon lord such as he.

“Get bent,” Harriett replied to him in her mind.

“Oh, come now, that’s no way to talk to your third musketeer,” Lord Aesir growled more than spoke. “But if anything, I’m D’Ar              tagnan. You can be one of the other obscure musketeers.”

Harriett glared into her own mind at that last comment. “Uh, if anything, I’m D’Artagnan. You can’t be the hero.”

“Why not?” Lord Aesir asked.

“Because you are one of the nine Demon Lords of the Underworld. That’s why.”

“That’s demonist,” Lord Aesir replied.

“You’re a demon!” Harriett returned.

“You’re quite mean, human child.”

“Then get out of my head!” Harriett yelled the last part out loud. Harriett hadn’t realized it until now, but her breathing and heart rate had greatly increased, her body obviously undergoing a slight panic attack after talking to her annoying, mental resident. As she drew her attention away from her mental tenant and back to her mother and best friend, both of whom were eyeing her with concern more than curiosity, Harriett decided to take a deep breath before answering her mother’s initial answer. “He’ll take the lemon cakes,” she stated, deciding to avoid any future conflicts.

“Splendid!” Mrs. Carefree replied with a clap. “Thanks, Aesir!”

“Tell her she’s welcome, human child. Also, tell her that my wife is good as well.”

“Pay rent and I will,” Harriett aloofly replied.

“Very well,” Lord Aesir stated.

Harriett suddenly felt her body weight shift slightly to the right as several objects slipped out of her pocket and onto the ground.

“What the…,” Harriett’s words trailed off as she noticed the black coins now laying upon the ground.

Feron slipped down to the ground and picked them up. “Demonic currency? And three black coins no less! Jeez, Harriett, you could buy a decent sized plot of land in the Underworld with this kind of change.”

“Sorry, I have no desire to take up residence in Hell,” Harriett snickered.

“I mean, Hell is actually a smaller place in the Underworld than actually being an exchangeable word between ‘Underworld’ and ‘Hell’. But it’s a common mistake heard often on Earth, so no biggie.” The glare Harriett was giving Feron was so powerful that she thought she felt Lord Aesir take a mental step back deep in her mind. Feron winced slightly before handing the coins to Harriett’s mother. “Maybe, uh, you should hold on to these until Harriett wants them.”

“Oh, so kind of you to put me in charge of her future investments, Feron. It’s almost like you think I’m her mother or something.” Mrs. Carefree finished her words with a giggle and a smile directed at Feron. Then, she turned to look back at her daughter and pointed at the black gauntlet again. “May I?”

Harriett had almost forgotten that she had been holding the gauntlet in her right hand. “Uh, sure, mom!” Harriett replied as she handed it over. Harriett was not in the least bit surprised when her mother slipped it on.