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Cassie hadn’t expected demonology to be so hard. She’d chosen the major because it sounded impressive but, she’d assumed, she knew enough about it to get high grades without too much trouble. She had assumed incorrectly. She’d thrown a few really confusing questions out last time she’d summoned Dipper, but he’d been worried about her hanging out with “the kind of people who deal with demons.” Pointing out that those people included her hadn’t helped as much as she’d hoped, so she’d moved the conversation back to math. Now she was on her own with her demonology courses.
Thankfully, this unit was on Alcor. She figured that as long as she didn’t screw up and write “Dipper” somewhere on the test by accident she would pass without too much trouble. Just in case, she was skimming the reading while she waited for her lunch to arrive. She’d found a few errors already, but nothing she expected to be on the exam.
She was busy snorting at a cultist’s suggestion that “Alcor’s true name was too terrible to utter” when someone dropped into the seat at her table. Cassie tried to look like someone who wasn’t currently laughing at a demonology textbook as she met the golden eyes of the girl across from her.
She was very pretty. Her hair had that messy look that you knew the owner had spent ages cultivating and she had a smattering of freckles across her nose. “Hey. I’m Lydia.”
“Hi.” Cassie responded uncertainly. “Cassie.”
“I’ve seen that book you’re reading. It’s about Alcor, right?”
Cassie nodded.
“I thought so. I’m actually super interested in him. Like, the whole Transcendence thing seems to trace back to him somehow.”
“Oh yeah. Definitely.” Cassie said without thinking, “I mean, uh, people definitely say that. And it could be true. But I would have no way of knowing.”
“It’s hard to find people to talk about this stuff with, you know? Most people don’t actually read this kind of book in public.”
It was true, Cassie realized. She suddenly wondered if she should be reading this kind of book in public. Did that put off a cultist vibe? Did people think she was in a cult?
“Um. I’m actually reading this for a class I’m taking.” Cassie clarified. Lydia looked slightly disappointed, and she added, “Not that he isn’t interesting. This is mostly review for me, honestly.”
“What interests you about him?”
“Oh. Uh. I’m-“ definitely not friends with a demon, “I just think he seems great.” That wasn’t any better.
She was saved from needing to figure out a way to salvage that statement by the arrival of her food, which served as a welcome distraction and allowed her to pretend that the silence was because she was eating and not because she’d just said that a demon seemed great.
“Hey,” Lydia said after a minute, “so, if you have any interest, I’m actually in a- a kind of group that, uh, researches demons, I guess. They’re the ones who recommended that book you’re reading to me, actually. We’re having a party tomorrow, if you want to come.”
Cassie was so relieved that Lydia wasn’t commenting on the ‘he seems great’ statement that nothing about a demon reading group seemed at all weird to her. “Yeah. That sounds awesome. Here, “she handed Lydia her phone, “put your number in and you can text me the details.”
***
Cassie shifted her bag to the other shoulder uncomfortably and knocked. By now she had realized this was a bad idea, but it also sounded interesting. Besides, what was the worst that could happen?
This rhetorical question brought a sudden wave of terrible things to mind, ranging from public embarrassment to creepy demon worship, but by then the door was already swinging open. A tall boy with curly, black hair grinned at her. “You must be Lydia’s friend.” he said, “Cassie, right? I’m Michael. Come in!”
The house was dark for a party, both in terms of lighting and color scheme. By the time they reached the room where the “party” was happening, they had passed no less than five clusters of candles and Cassie had a sneaking suspicion about the nature of this gathering.
The suspicion seemed confirmed by the table at the front of the room. No. Table was the wrong word. Altar. Altar was the word she was after. It was covered by a tablecloth embroidered with constellations, pine cones, an old book, and even more candles. Cassie wondered why all the candles. It wasn’t like anyone was performing any kind of ritual now. Maybe they were just going for atmosphere.
“Hey! You made it!” Cassie turned around to see Lydia and glared.
“Did you invite me to join a cult?” Cassie demanded.
“Um. I mean, you haven’t actually been invited to join yet.” Her lame excuse died off in the face of Cassie’s glare
“You said party. Party implies beer. And food. And crappy board games. Not candles and alters.”
“But we have all those!” She protested, pointing to the back wall.
On the opposite side of the room from the altar was a table. That table did look like it belonged at a party. Cassie noted the presence of food, alcohol, and board games. All of the requirements she had just listed. It’s presence made the cult seem a lot less intimidating and cultish.
“Okay. Yeah.” Cassie said, “But you’re still in a cult. No alarm bells going off there?”
“No way. Everyone here is really cool. Look, I’ll introduce you and if you’re still freaked out you can leave.”
“Promise?” she asked as she was guided towards the back table, “You won’t decide I’m a heretic or something and try to sacrifice me?”
“No way. Sacrifices are a no. I would definitely lose my scholarship if I did that.”
***
It turned out the cultists were really nice. They were maybe a little too interested in the Transcendence and everything associated with it, and they did occasionally try to summon a demon, but they were really nice. Cassie even agreed to come to their next summoning attempt, after Lydia swore up and down that they “didn’t even sacrifice bugs or anything.” Cassie doubted that a sacrifice of bugs would ever do anything, but she took the statement for the reassurance it was.
Apparently, the cult she had maybe possibly joined wasn't a very successful one. They had summoned Alcor in the past, but only about a third of the times they had attempted it. The usually got his answering machine instead. Cassie figured that since they didn’t typically want anything big or dangerous (mostly good luck on exams), they probably didn’t rank that high on Dipper’s priority list. She was slightly, secretly pleased, though. She couldn’t remember the last time he had failed to show up when she summoned him.
A week later, she knocked on the door again, holding a pint of ice cream in one hand and a bag of summoning stuff in the other. Lydia answered. She was wearing heavy makeup and an ominous black robe. She honestly looked pretty dorky.
“What is that?” she asked, pointing.
“Um, ice cream?” Cassie held it up.
“You brought ice cream to a summoning ritual?”
Cassie blinked in surprise. She had honestly forgotten you could make deals with anything else. “Yes.”
“Give it here.” Lydia said. She took the ice cream and led Cassie into the kitchen, where she dumped the it in the freezer.
“I was thinking we could use the ice cream.”
“Cassie. We’re dealing with an insanely powerful demon. What would he want ice cream for.”
“Um,” Cassie replied.
“Now we need to do something about your clothes.”
Cassie looked down at her clothes. Jeans and a t-shirt. Not particularly memorable, but if this was a black hood event, she was probably going to feel underdressed.
Lydia managed to find some suitably creepy clothing that fit her. They sat together around the summoning circle as Michael started chanting.
“Astrum splendidum, vos invoco. Vos invoco ut faciatis voluntatem meam. Dico nomen vestrum: Alcor!” he intoned ominously. Cassie cringed at the chant. She knew that, technically, it was more correct than her version, but she was used to hers and the unfamiliarity grated at her.
The others took up the chant as well. Cassie stumbled through it, slipping continuously on the formal and masculine conjugations, until a mist started to appear and they all fell silent.
The mist turned into an image of a grinning star with the text “your summon is very important to us.” The cultists remained silent, but exchanged annoyed looks as a voice started to sing “The Cycle of Living.” Cassie tried not to giggle.
The cultists started grumbling around the third song (“Czech Republican Arrangement”) and Michael killed the summons.
“Sorry, everyone. I guess it’s not happening tonight.”
Cassie hesitated then raised her hand uncertainly.
“You don’t actually have to raise your hand to talk.” Michael said by way of permission.
“I was just wondering if I could try, please.”
The cultists all looked at each other and Cassie felt her face get hot.
“Sure, I guess.” Michael said, “But I think Alcor’s busy tonight. I’m gonna go upstairs and watch a movie.”
The majority of the cultists followed Michael to watch movies. Lydia and five others stuck around.
“I came her to summon a demon. We might as well try again.” Lydia said.
Cassie grinned. “Awesome. Give me one minute.” She raced upstairs and got the ice cream out of the freezer. She ran back down the stairs and sat cross-legged by the circle, ignoring the confused looks the ice cream was earning.
She examined the circle and decided it was wrong. She erased the moon and replaced it with the big dipper, switched the eye out for a pine tree, and added some trailing lines to make the star into a shooting star.
“Stella splendida,” she chanted, deciding to go with the version she knew, “te invoco. Te invoco ut facias voluntatem meam. Dico nomen tuum: Alcor!”
There wasn’t even an intermediate mist step this time. Dipper just appeared. “What ice cream fla- where are we?”
“In someone’s basement. These are my new friends.” Cassie gestured at the remaining cultists, who were staring open-mouthed. “Say hi, guys.”
“Hi.” Lydia squeaked. Another waved. The others nodded.
Dipper examined them. “What’s with the hoods?”
“I may have accidentally joined one of your cults.” Cassie admitted.
Dipper's lecture lasted fifteen minutes, and only ended when Cassie literally shoved some of the ice cream into his mouth.