It had been a profitable working relationship, but Aiden felt it was time to let Gnaeus go.
They sat on either side of Aiden’s excessively expensive antique desk, Aiden in a high-backed chair, Gnaeus on a stool inside a series of chalked seals. Most summoners simply stood about in a large chamber, but Aiden thought the desk gave the whole proceeding an air of professionalism.
“It isn’t that there’s a problem with your work,” Aiden tried and failed to sound sympathetic. “I was very pleased with your efforts in curing my lung cancer, but I’m afraid there just isn’t a place in my retinue anymore for a demon specialising in the physical humours.”
Gnaeus’ red, rumpled face fell, his back spines drooping and his tail flopping heavily to the ground.
“I am sorry, master,” he squawked.
“That’s neither here nor there. Gnaeus, you’re fired.”
Aiden clicked his fingers sharply. The inner pentagram erupted in a column of flame, flicking blue and white. Gnaeus’ eye slits goggled briefly before his flesh melted away.