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Devil's Punch cs-4 Page 8
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“Would you mind skimming the red one for me?” In my bones I knew we had to hurry.
“Of course.” He took it and sank down beside me. “Can you cast all of these?”
“More or less.”
I didn’t admit I hadn’t practiced them all. Especially not the gopher spells. Glancing up, I had an idea, so I plucked a small stone from the ground, stood, and threw it upward as hard as I could. At twenty feet or so, it plinked into an invisible ceiling and came back down. That was probably why the quasits weren’t inside with us and instead had to content themselves with taunting from outside.
Then it hit me. I’d touched the ground. Picked up a rock. Which meant this thing had no floor. Chewing my lip in delighted inspiration, I ripped the red grimoire out of Chance’s hands with an apologetic look. I flipped the pages madly until I found the spell I wanted…and then sighed in relief when I saw it had no herbal components. Thank you, Mom. I read it four times, memorizing the related sigils.
It was risky as hell, but I might be able to reverse-engineer this. Her spell was designed to drive away gophers. If I tweaked it and cast it backward, I might be able to attract tunneling creatures. And that would give us a way out, provided whatever I summoned didn’t eat us. Chance knew I’d figured something out, but he didn’t ask. He just made room. Greydusk watched me with hope dawning in its expression, like it believed I might be able to break us out of the indestructible snare. Watch me try.
I drew my athame and brought my magick up, so that it flared in sparks from my fingertips. In the air, I etched one symbol in reverse order while the energy swirled around me in dark circles. Casting felt different in Sheol, darker and more dire. Would my halo show my trip to the underworld as well? I’d be lucky if I didn’t become kill on sight to all other gifted humans hereafter, but I couldn’t worry about that now. The spell swelled to a crescendo, pain boiled up from my belly, through my hips, and down my arms to flash from my fingertips.
“Advenio,” I shouted as I released it.
Arrive.
And something did. The ground rumbled beneath our feet, starting far away and closing the distance with terrible speed. Rocks trembled as the creature came, frantic to answer my call. The impact shook me to my knees when a yawning hole opened up in the earth. An enormous thing rose before me; it had a lizard’s body and a worm’s head, and no eyes, but instead, its mouth ran all the way across its face. It turned its blind head toward me and a white forked tongue licked out. I froze, staring at the creature I’d called.
“The Gorder awaits your orders,” Greydusk said softly.
In some ways, it reminded me of ancient renderings of Chinese dragons, only with a more reptilian body. I had no idea if I had any control over this beast. By reversing the charm, I’d called it, but my mother hadn’t written command spells. Therefore, I could only guess how to proceed. Magick had drawn it to me, and something was keeping it from attacking.
I summoned just enough power to lend my words weight, pushing it out as I spoke. “Lead us to safety.”
Its head tilted this way and that, and I feared it had decided to eat us, but then its gigantic body twisted in the tunnel, and it scrambled out of sight. Shocked out of my stillness, I charged after it. Greydusk followed me. Chance paused to grab his backpack and my Butch-filled purse; afterward, he slid down into the burrow. It looked like the Gorder had chewed its way to us, and if it lived on rock and dirt, maybe it didn’t crave flesh after all. That would be a nice surprise. I ran along the rocky channel; it was more than large enough for us to move upright, but the least movement caused dirt to crumble down, giving me some fear that we’d end up buried alive. But that might be better than waiting for whoever had trapped us. I felt sure they didn’t have friendly intentions.
Every now and then, the Gorder angled its neck to ensure that I was still with it. We ran I don’t know how long, until the space widened into what I’d call a lair. Interesting things lay scattered around the ground—shiny objects, old weapons, gemstones, gold, and sadly…bones. So it didn’t eat rocks. Bummer.
The Gorder trilled. Shit. Yeah. This qualified as one of those out of the frying pan moments. For the time being, the demons hunting us wouldn’t be able to find us and if they did, I suspected my new pet lizard-worm would eat them. But this wasn’t what I had in mind as a final destination.
“What now?” Chance asked.
God, I wished I knew.
While I watched in alarm, it curled into a ball on top of its treasure pile. This was how I imagined a dragon would behave, but this thing wasn’t exactly a dragon. They always wanted virgins in the stories, but the Gorder didn’t appear to hold my experience against me.
“There are other tunnels,” Greydusk said. “Perhaps one of them leads to the surface?”
“I’m willing to try, provided Scary doesn’t object to us leaving. Chance, can you find a way out?”
“Already on it.”
The air around him gained a subtle charge, as if each particle had a little lightning in it. It raised the hair on the nape of my neck, and the Gorder cocked its sightless head as if it sensed the change in the atmosphere. It trilled deep in its throat, followed by a growl. It showed teeth, aiming its head at Chance, and I motioned for him to stop.
“I guess it wants to keep us,” I said tiredly.
“When they arrive, your would-be captors will be able to follow the tunnels,” Greydusk said. “Therefore, time is of the essence.”
I frowned at him. “Yeah, but Dragonface doesn’t want us to go!”
“Talk about a rock and a hard place,” Chance muttered.
Since we were surrounded by tons of the stuff, I wondered if that was supposed to be funny. I moved closer to the Gorder. “Could you seal the tunnel behind us? Bad demons might come and try to steal your stuff.”
The monster perked up with a disapproving roar and I scrambled backward. “Hey, not me. I’m a good guy. See? This is me, not stealing your hoard. I won’t touch anything, I swear, but if you go block the tunnel, that should keep them away from your gold.”
The Gorder snuffled as if considering. Eventually, it slid off the pile and scrambled the way we’d come. It left long enough for Chance to locate the path, but before we could dash for the exit, the underground warren trembled. Impact was strong enough to throw me to the ground, and chunks of rock broke away from the ceiling, bombarding us. I dove clear, but a good-size stone clipped Greydusk on the shoulder.
As the dust settled, I crawled toward it. “How badly are you hurt?”
“I’m fine,” the demon said, as if surprised that I’d even ask.
I offered a hand to pull Greydusk to its feet, and that was when the Gorder returned. It trumpeted a celebratory sound, obviously expecting praise for a job well done. So I said, “Great work. Now they can’t steal your treasure.”
It growled.
At that moment, Butch came out of his stupor at last. He popped his head out of the bag; I expected him to disappear again with a whimper, but instead, the crazy dog came out and took a couple of tiny steps toward the dragon-beast. Ordinarily, Butch would be barking, trying to assert his dominance when he had no hope in hell of doing so, but this time his stance was almost playful; he pranced one step closer, two steps back, while he held his tail high, wagging like mad.
“It’s going to eat you,” I whispered to the dog.
The Gorder reared, its blind face turning to follow Butch’s movements. Its tongue licked out to taste the air.
“That’s how they see,” Greydusk said quietly.
I watched, astonished, as Butch went all the way over to the Gorder’s tail and then hopped up. The little dog ran along the curve of the creature’s spine and found a place to snuggle in. The beast let out a trill. Though I didn’t speak dragon-thing, I suspected trills were good; growls were bad. The Gorder coiled its body, showing every sign of going to sleep, though it was kind of hard to tell without eyes.
“Huh,” Chance said. “It likes do
gs.”
“Let’s see if it will let us leave,” I murmured.
If it was asleep, we could slip past and call Butch once we were safe. Making no sudden movements, I edged in the direction Chance had specified earlier, but as I drew closer to the hoard, the Gorder growled at me. I backed away. Unfortunately, there was no way to reach the tunnel without passing the treasure pile.
“Thoughts?” I said, retreating to a safe distance.
“It doesn’t mind our company,” Chance mused, “but it doesn’t trust us yet.”
“How do we gain its confidence?” I asked Greydusk.
The demon lifted a shoulder. “I’ve no idea. If you’d asked, I wouldn’t have imagined we could escape the magus trap.”
“But you’re our guide.”
“To the city. I can’t be expected to know the solution to every obstacle.”
“Fair enough. Then would you check how thoroughly it blocked the path?” I asked the demon.
“Certainly.”
The Gorder didn’t object when Greydusk left the lair, going back the way we’d come. So it definitely was a hoard issue. Somehow, we had to befriend it. While I thought about that, Chance sank down against the opposite rock wall.
At my inquiring look, he shrugged. “What? I’m tired.”
“Yeah, it’s been a hell of a day.”
When the demon came back, it reported, “The collapse closed the passage completely. It would take magickal intervention to clear it.”
“Is that a possibility?” I asked.
Greydusk nodded. “But not all demons would be able to cast such a spell.”
“Who could?”
“The Saremon.”
“Could they also create a magus trap?”
“Yes, but that spell can also be bound in a trigger object and released.”
“So any demon could have bought one.” I tapped my fingers on my knee, thoughtful.
“Basically,” Greydusk confirmed.
Chance sighed. “That doesn’t help us figure out who’s after us.”
“That’s not the immediate problem anyway. We have to get out of here.” I tried the approach again, but the Gorder roused at once and made a warning sound.
“You called it,” Greydusk said thoughtfully. “That implies a certain level of control. Can you try commanding it?”
I laughed at the notion. Why would this beast listen to me? But it was worth a shot. In fact, it was the only idea we had.
Chasm of Despair
I moved toward the tunnel. The Gorder roused, ready to snarl, but I drew on my full power. Magick snapped through me like a live current, and when I spoke, it gave my voice an odd burr. “You trust me. You love me. You know I would never hurt you or your hoard.”
It gave a questioning trill, and Butch yapped. The effort of holding the charm hurt. The magick burned deeper as I edged backward. I motioned for the others to follow me. Come on, I don’t know how much longer I can do this.
To my vast relief, Chance and Greydusk slid past. Butch followed.
“Stay,” I told the lizard-worm as I exited.
To my astonishment, it listened to me. The creature didn’t budge as I led the way through the channel, which sloped up toward the surface. I shook all over in reaction. I let the magick drain out of me as I saw the gray light of Sheol. I scrambled out of the hole and waited while Greydusk summoned the carriage.
“We must hurry,” it said.
Well, obviously. I cast the demon an evil look as it filled our ride with Klothod. Shudder. I’d never get used to that.
In short order, we got moving again. The plain descended into a valley that was framed on two sides by rocky bluffs. Dark, red-veined rock didn’t resemble anything I’d ever seen on earth; it was like diabolic marble.
Greydusk followed my gaze and said quietly, “Don’t let it touch your skin.”
Since the carriage was whizzing along at a crazy, jarring speed, that wasn’t probable. But still, I asked, “Why not?”
“This is called the Chasm of Despair for a reason.”
At those words I took a closer look over the side and saw that bones littered the ground here. Their posture was…disturbing, as if someone had leaned up against the cliff for a rest, and then just never mustered the will to move. Despair, I thought, and a chill rolled through me. There was an insidious power in this place, one that sapped inner strength and hope and made you feel as though it was too much trouble to try.
Chance wrapped an arm around me, his expression grim. By the look in his eyes, he felt it too. I leaned into him, more frightened than I cared to admit. Even the demon knight in Peru had been a foe I could fight. How do you combat cursed demon rock? Yeah, exactly.
I squeezed my eyes shut and ignored the rising impulse to throw myself out of the moving vehicle. Because clearly we were doomed. We couldn’t save Shannon. In the end, nothing I did mattered. My mother had died, and I couldn’t help her. I’d hidden like a coward. My father, shit, he left ages ago, probably because he saw I was worthless. I should’ve let Shannon perish in Kilmer because at least it would have been faster than what awaited her in the hands of the demons.
Heaviness spilled through me, dark as blackberry wine, and I listed, ready for everything to stop. The futility, the struggle, the failure—I wanted it all over. There was no hope. No purpose. No point. I threw myself toward the edge of the carriage, but Chance was there. He caught me.
His arms went around me, tight as steel bands, and he put his face against mine. “Fight it, damn you. You’re stronger than this.”
Stronger than what?
“You don’t know anything,” I said wearily. “I’m a fake and a liar, Chance. Which you’d already know if I wasn’t both those things.”
“Corine—”
“You think I’m a good person, but a good person doesn’t do deals with demons, even to save her own skin, maybe especially then. You remember the demon from Kilmer? In Laredo, I did business with it. I summoned its mate in return for help against the Montoyas.”
Shock tightened his features, but he recovered. “You wouldn’t have done that if you’d had a better choice.”
“Wouldn’t I? After I summoned Dumah, I forced Maury to give me a better bargain. And then, later, I used her true name to summon her. She’s how I defeated Montoya and his sorcerous brother. I fed them to her.” I heard myself saying these things, and I couldn’t stop. The words were poison that had to be lanced, right then, or I would die.
“Do you feel better?” he asked.
But I wasn’t done with my confession. “While you were trying to find a way to win me back, I was with someone else. I slept with Kel in Peru, and—”
He kissed me. It was a time-tested way to shut a woman up, I supposed. Afterward, he held me. Argued with me. Distracted me. Before I could fight him in earnest, we cleared the chasm, and the effects faded. Just enough for me to realize how stupid I’d been, how much I’d told him, and hot color flooded my face. I had meant to come clean with Chance, but not like that. I could’ve chosen my moment and my words better. Greydusk sat like a statue beside me, carefully not looking at either of us.
Gods and goddesses.
“How do you not hate me?” I asked.
He pulled away slowly, and I missed his warmth, his comfort. “This isn’t the time to talk.”
Chance couldn’t be happy about the demon summoning or the destruction of human souls, even bad ones. Who would be? Especially since we were in Sheol, the demon capital of the universe.
“But Kel…?”
His jaw tightened. “Obviously I’m unhappy about that. It’s a knife in my gut, imagining you with him.”
Embarrassment kept my cheeks hot; I shouldn’t have crumbled so fast. Maybe that spoke to my lack of fortitude—or it might be the unholy rock still at work in my head. Surely, though, he couldn’t have imagined I’d abstain. I mean, I never expected to see Chance again, let alone have him devoted to winning me back.
In si
lence, I linked my fingers together and studied the incredible vista rising before us. The city was…immense. Imagine the biggest human metropolis, like Mexico City or Tokyo, and then multiply it times two. Or four. A sense of spatial relationships wasn’t my strong suit. The point being, Xibalba was an enormous urban sprawl. The demon city looked like a baroque painting with round, classical lines, but a little too vivid, as if it was realer than anything else around it. That impression made me distrust my eyes.
Tall stone towers rose up from the city center, and a dark, sooty pall hung over everything. It might come from industry, I supposed, though that was an odd thought. Demons, working in factories, demon teamsters—and that sent my brain to places I’d better not go. If I started seeing demons as like humans, who had daily lives and went about them the best way they could, I’d lose the only surety I possessed—that they were the evil, the enemy, and must be vanquished at all costs. Shit. The possibility that all demons weren’t one hundred percent wicked was already lodged too deep to shake out. I was in so far over my head.
The carriage took us to the walls, where a guard stopped us. A magickal glow swirled around the stone, layers of protection when glimpsed through my witch sight. I cocked a brow at Greydusk while we waited our turn. There were numerous conveyances ahead of us, many of them Gothic or unlikely, straight out of a Tim Burton movie, and the denizens of said coaches were more exotic still.
“Do you see anything interesting about the fortifications?” the demon asked.
I squinted. The walls were really tall. I shrugged.
“No?” But the question made me wonder what I wasn’t seeing, so I switched to witch sight, and the walls glowed with scintillant color. “What’s that?”
“The light?” it asked.
I nodded.
“The Vortex. It keeps undesirables out.”
By which he meant monsters like the Gorder. I pointed. “And over there?”
It looked like a shantytown, shacks built out of scrap wood and stone. I glimpsed shambling figures, but they were too far away to make out details. Please don’t let that be a human slave labor camp.