Summoned a God by Mistake, Now He Won’t Go Back - Chapter 16

Fay tried her best to ignore the sight and asked,

“So, what is it that you want?”

“What I want?”

“Yes. Since you’re helping a witch, I’m supposed to give you something in return.”

Nothing too difficult, she thought—she had to be able to give it, and dying as a result was out of the question.

She didn’t want him demanding a disaster, or her life, or anything that would doom her. Before he could name some terrifying price, Fay decided to get ahead of him. She wasn’t sure if that would actually help, but she was too anxious to stay silent.

“That’s a pretty fair contract.”

Alnazir commented, sounding genuinely surprised. He hadn’t really expected to get anything in return. He understood what a ‘contract’ was, but the specifics were still unclear.

“I figured you’d just use me until you were done, then throw me out like I was nothing.”

“What do you even take me for?”

Fay protested, eager to defend herself. How was she supposed to use or control him anyway? All she did was nervously tiptoe around him, terrified she might somehow offend him.

Alnazir didn’t answer her question, but instead grew thoughtful, seriously considering what he wanted in return. Dressed in that way-too-tight dress, he stood there thinking for a long time before finally speaking.

“Alright. I’ve decided what I want. Let’s make the contract.”

“Wait—don’t you think you should tell me what you want first?”

That way, if it was too unreasonable, she could refuse. Fay kept her doubts to herself.

“I want conversation. Every single day.”

Just a conversation? That’s all? It seemed too little, and Fay couldn’t help but be suspicious—maybe he was up to something. But Alnazir even let her draft the contract and followed along without complaint.

“No objections?”

“…No.”

She’d even snuck in a clause—‘The summoned being must follow all of the witch’s instructions’—and he didn’t seem to mind. If he had objected, she’d have dropped to her knees and begged forgiveness, but that didn’t seem necessary.

For the cost, it was a fantastic deal. Plus, she’d protected herself by making it impossible for him to harm her. A dream come true: a powerful invoked—an octopus, but still!

Originally, she’d hoped for a flying invoked like Donovan, but at this point, even a tentacled one would do.

“Now we just need to sign.”

Fay hurried before Alnazir could change his mind, writing her name and passing the paper to him.

Alnazir made a humming noise as he looked at the page, then flicked his finger. Instantly, the quill in the inkpot floated up and wrote out his signature all on its own.

So he did use magic. He really was a genius octopus, Fay thought as she checked the finished contract.

His signature was written in neither the witch’s language, nor the imperial tongue, nor even the ancient script. It was something she’d never seen before, so her plan to sneak a peek at his true name was ruined.

Anyway, the contract was finally complete. She felt a rush of satisfaction. After all the chaos, she finally had an invoked of her own. Something that would be invaluable in the war to come.

“I want to see your home now.”

Alnazir said, watching her look over the contract.

“This is my house. My home.”

Fay replied, shrugging and looking around. Thankfully, no thieves had broken in, so everything was in pretty good shape. The place was small but cozy—nothing to be embarrassed about inviting someone over to.

Alnazir blinked rapidly.

“How can this be a home?”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s way too small, and such a mess.”

“It is not that small!”

Fay snapped, wounded by the criticism. She thought she’d made her home nice. It was plenty spacious for her alone, and even when Zynie lived with her before turning fifteen, they’d managed just fine.

But Alnazir kept looking around, dissatisfied.

“There’s not even any water.”

Was he sulking because she hadn’t offered him a cup of tea? What a troublesome octopus.

Still, Fay dutifully brewed him a cup. Alnazir examined the teacup, holding it between his hands and then burst out,

“Am I supposed to sleep here? I can’t even fit one hand inside!”

If he could drop the moon from the sky, she supposed he could try to sleep in a teacup. But it was the first time she’d ever heard his voice sound so genuinely angry.

“Did you just say ‘sleep’?”

Why did he think he’d be sleeping in a teacup? Ah—maybe it was because he was an octopus?