Chapter 6: I seduce the dragon.
Zatanna Zatara
Shadowcrest Manor, NY, USA
Dad was out, not that this was anything new. Whether it was a business meeting or scheduling a new tour, he had a busy schedule even without his heroics taken into account.
He was out being a hero tonight though. I was sure because he didn't tell me anything. He liked to keep me away from anything that could even remotely be construed as dangerous, even if I knew plenty of ways of defending myself.
His overprotectiveness got worse since mom died. I understood, but a part of me resented him for it. It was like he didn't trust his training, didn't trust me.
I let out a sigh of frustration. I'd already done my magic study tonight, which sometimes felt like an extra homework assignment no other kid had to do. I put on something comfy and plopped down in front of the TV with a bowl of popcorn so I could veg out.
I watched a few episodes of a crime drama and occasionally pretended the main character was Batman. I was having fun, for a given definition of the word, when I felt a pulse of mana. It was something I knew to look for, a surge of magical energy that the manor wouldn't let me miss no matter what I was doing.
There was an intruder on the grounds. Worse, a demonic intruder. Dad said he’d updated the wards to specifically sense for those magical signatures. If one was here, that could mean trouble.
My heart pounded in my chest. Dad said Shadowcrest was the safest place in the world. He'd want me to hole up, head to the basement and activate the secondary wards while I waited for him to come beat up the bad guys.
But… But this was the most exciting thing to happen since… since ever! I knew how to defend myself; dad taught me well. And Shadowcrest Manor was as “home field” as home field advantage could be. The house was practically alive, alive and ready to defend me at the first sign of danger.
Really, could I call myself a Zatara if I didn't fight for my ancestral home? The least I could do was see who was doing the attacking, right? Right.
I headed to a full-length mirror in one corner of the living room. Holding out my hand, I focused and intoned, “Rorrim! Laever eht redurtni ot em!”
The mirror’s surface rippled for a moment. Then, my reflection scattered like the surface of a lake before revealing a bird’s eye view of the estate’s garden.
The intruder was easy enough to spot. His canary-yellow hair flickered like gold against the garden's dim lighting. He wore a set of charcoal-gray slacks and a pressed, orange shirt that reminded me of smoldering embers. He looked like he was going to a dance or job interview, not exactly what I thought a demon or a burglar would wear.
The wards had pinged off him as soon as he’d stepped foot on the grounds. That he’d even managed to cross the wall at all probably said he wasn’t someone I should underestimate. Still, he didn’t seem to notice he was being watched and inadvertently put on a better show than anything on TV.
He crouched and skulked around like a fox, even muttering under his breath about “doing the sneaky sneak.” I almost lost it when he started to hum the Mission Impossible theme song and rolled behind a tree. I was no Batman, but I somehow doubted the Dark Knight would approve of his stealth skills.
Giggling to myself, I decided enough was enough and activated another of the manor’s defenses. Golden bars of energy rose up around him, encasing him in a cage that would sap any spells he tried to use. I readied a spell and walked outside to interrogate the intruder.
“Aha, an intruder!” I shouted behind him. I wasn’t sure why I said that, a girl had to make an entrance and mine was… a work in progress. From up close, I saw that though he’d been doing “secret agent” rolls, his clothes remained immaculate, not a crease or grass stain on him. Either those clothes were enchanted, or he was the type to spend magic to maintain his appearance even while “sneaking.” Poorly. “Turn around slowly! I know how to use the wards, demon!”
He complied and my breath hitched in my throat. Demon? He looked like an angel! Handsome didn’t begin to cover it. His blonde hair was just wavy enough to give it some volume. His eyes were a piercing blue that reminded me of a cloudless sky. His face belonged on the cover of Vogue. The burnt-orange shirt pressed tightly around his torso, showing off an understated athleticism. If I passed him on the street, I would have pegged him as a fashion model or Hollywood A-lister.
He was the one in a cage. He was the burglar. He was a demon. Somehow, that didn’t matter. With just one look, he made me feel self-conscious in my sweats and fluffy bunny slippers.
We stared at each other for several seconds.
Then, he opened his mouth. “Wow, you have gorgeous eyes.”
“W-What?”
“You do, they’re an enchanting shade of blue, like sapphires. Has anyone ever told you that?”
“N-No?” Blood rushed to my cheeks. I went to a Catholic high school and worked as a magician’s assistant in my spare time. I didn’t exactly have much time to date around, if dad would let me in the first place.
“Well isn’t that a shame,” he purred. “You deserve to hear it more often. Dressed down and still absolutely stunning.”
“Stop that!”
“Stop what? Telling the truth?”
“You!” I pinched my arm. “Not the point! You! Demon! What are you doing in my house?”
“We’re not in your house,” he said with an annoyingly cute smirk.
“My garden! Why are you here?”
“Ah… I forgot?”
“You seriously expect me to believe that?”
“Alas, fair maiden! Your beauty drives out all other thoughts!” he exclaimed dramatically. When I stared at him dully, he offered a sheepish chuckle. Even that was cute, totally unfair. “Ehehe, too much?”
“You think?”
“Hey, can’t blame a guy for trying,” he said. He leaned casually against the bars, only to yelp when they zapped him. He rubbed his arm and pouted like a giant, fluffy golden retriever. “Ow! Do you mind?”
“Oh, sorry,” I said with a wave of my hand.
I did it without thinking. Looking back, it was so, so stupid. Here I was, alone with a demonic intruder, and I’d dismissed the cage that bound him out of sheer reflex, like it was the polite thing to do. I only realized what I’d done after the cage faded away.
Eyes wide, I stared at him in shock. I was too close. There was no way I could get a spell off in time. This was it; this was how I died, because I let down my guard when an unreasonably handsome demon flirted with me.
See, dad? This was why I should be allowed to date!
Then, to my surprise, he didn’t attack me. He didn’t try to drag me through a gaping portal to Hell. His face didn’t peel away to reveal some eldritch abomination. He just pulled his arms above his head in a spine-popping stretch.
“Thanks, Zatanna, you’re a lot nicer than your dad,” he said with a wink.
“I-You-What? You know my name?”
“Well, duh. I mean, you’re a Zatara. Oh, where are my manners? I’m Rigal, Rigal Phenex, but you can call me Tweety.”
That was fair, I supposed. My family was really famous, both in mundane and magical circles. That fame only shot through the roof when dad joined the Justice League as their expert consultant on all things mystical.
Then the rest of what he said caught up with me. “What kind of demon calls himself ‘Tweety?’”
He frowned, jabbing a finger over my lips. “There’s that word again. Nope. Not demon, devil. There’s a difference.”
“There is?”
“Of course there is, you racist.”
“I’m not racist!” I squawked in surprise.
“Yes, you are! Just because we both use demonic energy and come from the Underworld doesn’t mean we’re the same, you know! You probably think all devils are evil and go around murdering and raping, huh?” he said, sounding shockingly hurt. He even had tears in his eyes, fat, crocodile tears that wouldn’t fool a child but still managed to enhance his pouting.
“Well maybe you shouldn’t break into people’s houses then!” I accused.
“Now that’s unfair, Z. I haven’t broken anything yet.”
“Yet?”
“And don’t you think it’s a huge leap to go from ‘burglary’ to ‘murder and rape?’ Sounds racist to me. Definitely racial profiling.”
“I didn’t say that! You said that! Stop playing the victim here!”
“Eh, fair enough, but I do it so well.”
“Egac mih!” I snapped as I waved my hand. Another set of golden bars sprouted from where he stood. But this time, he was ready. Wings clad in blazing feathers sprouted from his back as he shot into the sky. “Hey! Hold still!”
“No! You’re going to cage me again! If you’re going to bind me, at least get out the fuzzy cuffs, lady!”
I could feel my face burning. Embarrassment or anger, I didn’t know. Dad was overprotective, but I wasn’t that sheltered. “I don’t have fuzzy cuffs, you pervert! Gninthgil tlob!”
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The manor’s wards fueled me with power I didn’t normally have. A bolt of lightning shot out of my hand, only to miss him entirely as he tucked in his wings into a spiraling dive. Twin streaks of flame swirled behind his wings, framing him in a gorgeous display of color.
He looked so elegant in the air, like he was born for the sky. If I took a picture, I was sure I could sell it to any art gallery in the world, an angel descending from Heaven. He’d be so much easier to deal with if he wouldn’t open his stupid mouth.
Then he shattered that image by blowing a raspberry at me. “Nyehh! Missed me!”
I swiped my hand down, bringing forth a second lightning bolt that crashed into him from above. He landed on the ground and I quickly bound him in conjured chains.
“Now, answer me. Why are you here?” I demanded.
“Owie… Really not into the shock play,” he whined, then quickly caved when I sent sparks dancing along my fingers. “Okay, fine, you’re one of the good guys anyway. I guess there’s no harm in being honest. Would you believe me if I said I came to see the wards? I mean, Shadowcrest Manor is famous.”
“Why? To scope out the place for later?”
“Yeah, but you’re not supposed to be that smar–Ow! Quit with the zapping, woman!”
“Then get serious! What are you after?”
“The Amulet of Aten. Your dad kicked Wotan’s ass and took it. I wanted to see if I could get a look at it.”
“Finally, an answer. Sorry to break it to you, but I don’t know where he put it,” I said truthfully. There was a good chance it was here somewhere, but dad kept the really dangerous stuff locked in a magic vault I couldn’t access. For all I knew, he gave it to Doctor Fate or buried it in a hole somewhere. “You just wasted a whole bunch of time and got caught for nothing.”
He sat up and shrugged carelessly. “Eh, I wouldn’t say this was a waste. I got to meet you, didn’t I?”
I rolled my eyes. “Do you ever stop flirting?”
“Do you ever stop being pretty?” he shot back, zero hesitation or filter this one. He wouldn’t fluster me again; I was wise to his tricks now. He squirmed like a worm and reached into his back pocket before pulling out a bookmark. He wiggled it for me to take. “Actually though, it really is good to see you, Zatanna. Here, take this.”
“You really think I’ll accept something from a devil? It’s probably cursed.”
“It’s not. Look, if I really wanted to hurt you, I would have when you freed me, right?” he said. I hated how convincing he sounded. Still…
“Fine, but I reserve the right to zap you,” I warned.
“Careful, your kinks are showing. Should I call you ‘mistress?’”
“Whatever, pervert.” Despite myself, I picked up the bookmark and began to read.
Ye whose heart yearns for more,
Ye who longs for the sky above,
Take this, and see what’s in store,
Take this, and–
Fuck, I suck at poems, alright? Just rip this if you want something and a devil will appear to grant your wishes, for a proportionate price of course.
Cheekily yours,
Tweety
PS: No, we don’t eat souls. Ugh, I don’t know where you’ve been. Seriously, do you have any idea how revolting you taste?
“Wow… You really suck at poetry, you know that?” I asked. I laughed a little at the last part. What did souls taste like anyway?
“Hey, I tried, okay? Besides, I really don’t like all the stuffy, spooky mumbo jumbo. I leave the serious stuff to pops. Sometimes, a guy just wants to get out and see the world, you know?”
And, I did. I occasionally snuck out of the manor too, leaving a clone via duplication spell behind. I didn’t expect to find myself sympathizing with a devil, but tonight was a weird night. “So you’re going to give me a tacky bookmark?”
“Not tacky. It’s cute and funny and appropriately disarming.”
“Sure, whatever, Tweety. Do you give this to every pretty girl you meet?”
“Of course not! I give it to people with magical potential. They summon me, give me a job, and I take something in exchange. It can be money, a new spell, or sometimes a favor or two. It’s a contract, see? A harmless way for me and my peerage to gain power. Speaking of, wanna join?”
“What? Your peerage? What’s that?”
“Okay, so high class devils like yours truly have something called evil pieces–”
“The name does not inspire confidence.”
“They’re just called that. Basically, they’re magic artifacts that can reincarnate other species into devils, turning them into our servants.”
I kicked him in the knee. “Oh, so you think you can turn me into a servant? Why the hell would I join you?”
“Ow, stop that! And it’s not forever! Peerage members start as low class devils but can become high class devils through strength or merit,” he explained. “The pieces give you a ton of benefits too.”
I was curious, against my better judgment. He really had been a lot friendlier than I’d expected. “Like what?”
“For starters, even low class devils are about tenfold stronger and faster than the average human. I mean, that might vary depending on the individual, but it’s a general truism. And then there’s the increased magical potential. As creatures of magic and desire, all devils have at least a little mana.”
“Not important to me,” I said, bragging a little. “Dad says I have even more potential than he did when he was my age.”
“Don’t be so sure. Not all evil pieces are the same. The creator really, really liked chess, see? So they’re all modeled after a chess set. Each high class devil is a ‘king’ and has fifteen pieces. Queen, two rooks, two knights, you get the idea. The knight gets a huge speed boost even beyond the baseline that all devils have. The rook gets strength and durability. The bishop gets extra magic.”
“And the queen?”
“All of the above. A queen piece is meant to be the peerage second-in-command and the king’s right hand.”
That did sound pretty impressive. “What about the extra magic?”
“Yup, you could be even more powerful than you are now. And, being creatures of desire and magic, devils have a much easier time learning new spells or coming up with our own than humans do.”
“Tempting, but no,” I said dryly. “I’m not going to be your servant for a bit of extra juice.”
“How about immortality and eternal youth? It’s estimated that devils have a lifespan of ten thousand years, but I say ‘estimated’ because no devil has ever died of natural causes and ten thousand years is about the length of history as you know it. We self-transfigure ourselves passively to look exactly the way we want so if we don’t want to age, we don’t. It takes a while, but there isn’t a single devil in the world who looks ugly from their perspective.”
That was… That was way more tempting than I thought. I didn’t think of myself as an especially vain person, but I was still a teenage girl, damnit. Looking good was a bigger motivation than I’d care to admit. It also explained why Tweety was so unfairly handsome.
“Still not worth it, Tweety,” I shot back. “I’m not signing my soul over for a pretty face.”
“You think I’m pretty?” he asked, batting his lashes.
“Stop that. It was cute the first time. You need better material.”
“Ouch, fine. And you wouldn’t be signing over your soul. Again, I don’t deal in souls. You’d eventually become a high class devil and have the option of founding your own peerage. Be your own woman, with all the perks of being a devil.”
“Still no. I don’t know you. No way am I going to serve you.”
He sighed but didn’t seem too surprised. “Alright, fine, it’s about what I expected. I would have thought less of you if I could get you on my side with just a few promises anyway. Still, consider this a standing offer, Zatanna. You’ll always have a place by my side, and not just because I think you’re hot.”
“Thanks?” I said tentatively. He sounded sincere, but I wasn’t sure how much I could trust him. He didn’t want to kill me, but that didn’t mean he was a good person.
“Keep the bookmark, okay? Just in case. If you ever get in trouble, tear it and I’ll come to help.”
“Really?”
“Yup, no questions asked. Your enemies are my enemies and all that. I need my future bishop alive and well, you know.”
“Confident, are we?” I asked, smiling despite myself. For all that he was a devil, I… liked him. Dad always said I should trust my instincts. Of course, he also said I should never trust a demon, but… he wasn’t a demon, was he?
“I have a way with words. It won’t be now, maybe not even for years, but I think I could get you to join my peerage,” he said with a shameless smirk.
I put the bookmark in my pocket. Maybe it was a risk to trust him, but he’d been unexpectedly nice, a little sweet, even. If I snuck out of the house again and ran into trouble, I could use backup that wasn’t dad.
Dad would ground me until I could collect social security, whereas Tweety would just flirt with me. I could handle a little embarrassment if it meant dad wouldn’t find out.
Priorities. I had them.
“So…” he trailed off. He stared up at me with the most pitiful puppy eyes. Devils weren’t supposed to look that good. “Can I go now?”
“Hmm, I should keep you here for dad to show.”
“But then he might find out about the summoning circle I gave you,” he pointed out reasonably.
“Not if you don’t tell him.”
“He’d smite me in a heartbeat. Whatever you can do with the wards, he can do a thousand times worse. What makes you think I won’t tell him?”
“Because you won’t have the chance to try to get me to join your peerage if he takes that away, duh.”
“True, you’re very devious, you know that?” Then, a spell circle bloomed beneath him. It looked like a larger version of the one on his bookmark. I felt a surge of magic, only for the wards to sap it all away. “Oh, come on!”
“Teleportation circle? Did you really think that’d work?” I asked smugly. “Of course there would be wards against people just teleporting in and out.”
“It was worth a shot.”
“I could let you go, if you make it worth my while.”
“Really? You’re blackmailing me?” he asked. He wasn’t angry. Hell, he sounded a little impressed.
“I’ll even promise not to tell dad. False alarm, really. The wards just malfunctioned.”
“I doubt that’d fool your dad.”
“I’ll make something up.”
“Fine, what do you want, woman?” I balked at that, something he noticed right away. I didn’t think he’d agree so readily. “You have no idea, do you?”
“Hush, you.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a second object, a crystal vial filled with a clear fluid. “Here, I’ll trade you this for my freedom. It’s a vial of phoenix tears.”
“Which is…?”
“Potion that cures any injury or disease, even life-threatening ones. Car crash. Gunshot. Cancer. AIDs. Doesn’t matter. Drink this and you’ll be right as rain.”
He… He wasn’t lying. There was so much magic radiating off that little vial that I couldn’t believe I didn’t notice it before. “H-How do you have something like that?”
“Hello? Are you forgetting my name? Rigal Phenex. It’s my house’s specialty. We sell it for absurd amounts of money normally, but I think my freedom is a fair trade. So, deal?”
“I… Fine,” I said, taking the vial. If… If mom was still alive, would I have joined his peerage to save her? Yes, absolutely. Not even a question. I dismissed the chains. “Y-You can go. Don’t let me catch you here again.”
“You got it. And if you want more, you could always trade magic artifacts for tears.”
“Why do you want the Amulet of Aten so much anyway?”
“Not just that, though that’s why I came here originally. I just love magical artifacts, okay? Think of me like a collector.”
“Oh, so like a dragon and his hoard,” I replied dryly. “Joy.”
“A dashingly handsome dragon.”
“Hah. Get out of here.”
He took to the sky. I was filled with the sudden urge to touch his wings but refrained. “Fine. Until next time, Z.”
“Until next time, Tweety.”
I watched him disappear into the sky. Once he crossed the wards, he disappeared in a flash of teleportation.
I headed back inside, thinking of excuses to explain how the wards became active. Tonight was a lot more exciting than I’d expected and I was no longer in the mood for bad detective dramas. I had a feeling I’d be tearing that bookmark eventually.
“Rigal Phenex, huh? What an interesting guy.”
Author’s Note
This chapter has been brought to you by the Cat-Fucking Immortal Peach.
Rigal’s an idiot, but at least he has pretty privilege. Think about how people in Kuoh Academy reacted to Rias in canon. Rigal has that same “devilish good looks,” and without Riser’s general douchey aura.
That said, he did get ridiculously lucky with Zatanna in the sense that she’s already a rebellious character. Had he not known anything about her, he wouldn’t have risked this conversation at all.
Random Fact: The word “phoenix” did not always mean “immortal fire bird.” Etymologically, it comes from the Greek word “phoinix,” which could mean anything from “purple” to “palm tree.”
This is because “phoinix” probably meant “related to the Phoenecians,” a people to the south of the Greeks. The same people exported purple dyes to the Greeks and so the color was associated with them, as were the palm trees. Phoenicia was considered the “land of sunrise” which might have had something to do with it.
Though the word comes from the Greeks, and later old French “fenix,” the bird is of Egyptian origin. As far as I can tell, it was only in the fifteenth-sixteenth century when the phoenix was added to the eleven constellations of Ptolemy by cartographer Petrus Plancius.
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