The demon trapped in the summoning circle screamed, slamming its crablike pincers against the unseen barrier, hurling its chitinous shoulders from side to side in an effort to escape the confinement. It couldn’t. I kept my will on the circle, kept the demon from bursting free.”Satisfied, Chauncy?” I asked it.The demon straightened its hideous form and said, in a perfect Oxford accent, “Quite. You understand, I must observe the formalities.
– Jim Butcher –
Fool Moon
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