The Infernal Games

by Reed Logan Westgate

  “This is your house?” she asked skeptically.

  “Indeed,” Oxivius nodded, waving toward the roof of the mausoleum before gesturing to proceed. The action caught Xlina’s attention, drawing her eyes to the roof, where a creature sulked at the apex. It was shaped like a hairless German shepherd, except for its head, which was elongated with a hooked snout like that of a lizard, and the large leather wings on its back.

  “Is that a living gargoyle?” she asked, her eyes wide as the creature turned in a circle and lay down with an audible thud. Its tail was now in view, and it hung over the lip of the roof. It was thin with a barb at the end, which swung lazily back and forth.

  “Granite,” Oxivius affirmed with a nod. “His real name is impossible for us to pronounce, but he answers to Granite. Please, let us get inside and see to the wounded.”

  Xlina just nodded, trying hard not to make the mistake of judging Oxivius like she had before. He had saved her life on two accounts, and black magic or not, that was worth something.

  He pushed open the large cherry-wood door, revealing a bleak interior with a raised dais and a large obsidian casket. Warily she entered the mausoleum, looking around at the walls covered with ancestral plaques signifying individual tombs.

  “Um,” she said softly, unsure how to proceed. “It’s nice.”

  “The neighbors don’t cause a fuss, and it’s silent as a tomb,” Oxivius added with a chuckle, walking past the raised dais to the back of the mausoleum.

  “Yeah,” Xlina agreed. “Bet the pizza guy loves you.”

  “Funny,” Oxivius scoffed. “This way.”

  He led her to the back wall of the mausoleum, where five bronzed plates positioned in an “X” marked five tombs. The plate in the center read Oxivius Soulforge, a loving husband and father. He smiled awkwardly, motioning for her to place a hand on the plaque. Hesitantly, she shifted Amber’s weight in her arms and extended a hand. With a devilish smile, he placed his hand next to hers and tapped his cane on the floor. There was a thundering boom that caused her to flinch, and when her eyes opened again, she was standing in a small room that was furnished in a Gothic style. A fire burned low in a brick fireplace that cast a flickering glow in the room. There were two chairs, reminiscent of something you would find in a cathedral, set before the hearth, with an elegantly carved bone end table between them. The carpet was a tapestry of reds and blacks that seemed to spiral down into an endless array like a mirror in a funhouse. Oxivius walked to a door at the far side of the room and reached for the knob, which was made of polished, obsidian-like stone.

  “Wow,” she remarked, crossing the living area to the now opened door. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Thanks, love,” he said, leading the way into the next room and stopping momentarily for her to take it in. The room was lavishly decorated with mirrors and tapestries lining the walls. The center of the room held a large crystal coffin perched on a squat stone pedestal. Oxivius walked toward the coffin and lifted the lid, motioning for Xlina to follow.

  “She is not dead,” Xlina protested, speaking before the words even registered in her head.

  “Not yet,” Oxivius added, motioning to the coffin. “Nor will she be for a long time if you put her down.”

  “In there?” Xlina asked incredulously.

  “Have you not heard the tale of the glass coffin?” he asked as if it were common information.

  “No,” Xlina quipped back. “I seem to have missed that one.”

  “Figures,” Oxivius huffed in irritation. “I guess the Brothers Grimm tales are only consumable in animated form for you millennials.”

  “Hey,” Xlina protested, moving to the crystal coffin and laying Amber down in defiance. “That’s a cheap shot.”

  “You have no idea where you are, do you?” Oxivius smiled, closing the lid to the coffin.

  “I’m in your home in the Otherworld,” she pouted.

  “But where in the Otherworld?” Oxivius pressed, poking her on the bicep with his cane before placing its tip back on the floor and leaning in expectantly for an answer.

  “I have no idea where I am,” Xlina relented.

  “Well, there’s a start,” Oxivius said with a deep bow. “Welcome to the Necropolis, love; follow me.”

  He motioned for the door and headed back to the living area, sitting in one of the chairs and extending his hand for Xlina to join him. She unceremoniously plopped down in the chair on the opposite side of the end table. The fire in the hearth felt warm on her skin, and for a moment she just relaxed, letting the atmosphere sink in.

  “The Necropolis is the graveyard of the forgotten,” Oxivius continued, leaning back in his chair. “See, boneyards have a spirit of their own, love. They are more than corpses and headstones. They are doors to the Otherworld. So what happens to a graveyard on Earth that is forgotten or destroyed by the hands of time?”

  “I don’t know,” Xlina responded vacantly. “They get built over, and ghosts haunt the ritzy suburbs that are built on top of them. Like in that Poltergeist movie.”

  “Enough with the movie references,” Oxivius pleaded. “For a druid’s daughter, I thought you would be better read.”

  “They don’t share with girls, remember?” Xlina chided back.

  “Naturally,” Oxivius replied.

  “So what happens when a graveyard... dies?” she asked.

  “It appears here,” Oxivius answered, his hands flinging wide in a flourish. “The Necropolis is the manifestation of every cemetery and graveyard that has been lost to time. All of them here gathered in mourning. Their inhabitants forgotten.”

  “That’s kind of creepy,” Xlina chimed back. “What’s the story with the coffin?”

  “The legend goes that a magician claimed shelter at a tailor’s cottage, where he became entranced by the beauty of the tailor’s daughter. The tailor and the daughter rebuked the magician, for they were weary of magic, and like many people of the Dark Ages, they harbored a hate and distrust of magic. The magician was furious to be scorned for his magic, and so he kidnapped the maiden. The maiden’s brother sought her return, and the magician turned him into a great stag. For endless years, the stag fought with the magician, until one day a hunter came, who slew the stag and defeated the magician, finding the maiden entombed in the coffin of glass. She slept for years, not aging a day; all her scars were healed, and she was perfectly preserved,” Oxivius explained.

  “Sounds like Sleeping Beauty,” Xlina said with a roll of her eyes.

  “Same idea,” Oxivius agreed. “But there is a glimmer of truth in every legend.”

  “So you have Sleeping Beauty’s coffin in your guest room?” Xlina asked with a wry grin.

  “Look,” Oxivius explained. “There was a magician who in fact created a crystal coffin. The coffin had the ability to preserve the inhabitant and even to heal wounds if one knew how to use it. The magician did meet a maiden, but he couldn’t bear for her to grow old before his eyes, and so he made the coffin, his life’s work.”

  “A touching story,” Xlina interrupted. “The man grows old but wants the woman to stay young and beautiful. We have surgeons that make a killing doing that same thing now.”

  “The coffin gives you more than the appearance of youth, love,” Oxivius continued, suddenly becoming very serious.

  “It actually can make you healed and young again?” Xlina asked. “You have the freaking coffin of youth in your guest room, and why aren’t you filthy rich?”

  “Magic has a cost, love,” Oxivius lamented. “You of all people should know that by now. The coffin doesn’t have life of its own to give; it can only take it from others.”

  “So it steals life,” Xlina gasped, looking back at the door to the room.

  “Yes,” Oxivius said, looking very tired indeed. “The coffin was the magician’s life work. He couldn’t bear to watch his maiden grow old and die. The coffin took the life from the magician to preserve her youth. She stayed young and beautiful, while he grew old
and withered.”

  “That’s horrible,” Xlina answered.

  “Eventually, the maiden, still young despite having lived twice her normal life, grew tired of the old and decrepit magician. She fell in love with another and left the magician. His heart broke, and he was outraged at the betrayal. With his life nearly spent, he lay in the crystal coffin and focused his magic all around him,” Oxivius continued solemnly. “He that found from within the coffin, he sucked the life from those around him. Everything withered and died. With his newfound power, he drew the essence of the world into him and replenished his power. Thus Timoneous Arkham Nagash transcended from magician to necromancer. His power drew the ire of the local populace, and they marched on him with blades and fire. The maiden led the mob to his house, where the doors were barred shut, and he was burned alive within. And so ended the first life of Nagash.”

  “So the maiden killed him after all,” Xlina stated grimly.

  “Aye, but hers was no happy ending, love,” Oxivius continued. “When the necromancer Nagash died, the magic that gave her youth ended, and she withered to a crone on the spot. Accused of witchcraft, she too was betrayed by her young beau and burned at the stake. The coffin was lost to time, as was the hamlet, as all things are under the steady march of time.”

  “But someone used the coffin,” Xlina remarked, a spark of intuition. “They didn’t know what it was and were buried in it.”

  “Indeed,” Oxivius smiled. “Which after ages was forgotten and wound up here in the Necropolis.”

  “You said Nagash’s first life ended?” Xlina asked.

  “Yes,” Oxivius continued, rising from his chair. “But those are stories for another time.”

  “Ox,” Xlina said tentatively. “Why did you come back?”

  He paused briefly, looking at her as if weighing his words ever so carefully. He leaned his cane next to the hearth and returned, pulling his chair out and adjusting it so he could sit and look at her directly instead of at the hearth. With a pensive sigh, he sat once more, looking directly at her. Xlina shifted uncomfortably under the stare of those icy blue eyes, his look ever so serious.

  “I was in the park,” Oxivius started hesitantly. “To watch the vegans across the way. Valeria had arranged it for me in return for a single favor.”

  “The Three Brothers?” Xlina questioned. “What ever could you want with them?”

  “They are the Norse Fates,” Oxivius replied simply. “Devious and cunning, they broker information for the fae, and I thought if I watched them long enough, I could get answers to something... someone I have been looking for.”

  “Your wife,” Xlina said softly, a hint of regret filling in her.

  “It’s personal,” Oxivius replied in a tone thick with bloodlust.

  “So why did you come back?” Xlina continued, trying to shift the subject in the hopes of the sudden look of anguish leaving his eyes.

  “Valeria came back,” he said slowly. “Eventually, after what had been months, she finally asked for her favor.”

  “Which was me,” Xlina interrupted.

  “It was to keep you safe,” Oxivius nodded. “She said you would go back to hunt injured and unprepared. Without my involvement, you would be killed.”

  “But after the cephalopod...” Xlina shook her head in dismay.

  “That wasn’t the deal, love,” Oxivius smiled. “She merely said to keep you safe. I don’t want to risk incurring a mark of my own, do I?”

  “So that’s why you came to my apartment,” Xlina continued. “To keep your own hide safe.”

  “No,” Oxivius answered firmly. “I came back because you said you wanted to be my friend, and despite being angry with you... I believed you. I was coming to make amends when the Mist rolled in.”

  “So you’re willing to be friends with a judgmental Baku,” she smiled.

  “So long as you’re willing to befriend a necromantic cannibal,” he answered seriously.

  “I think I can do that,” Xlina replied. “Besides, you seem to be the only person that isn’t trying to screw me over. I’d bet my rent that it was the damn Brothers who sold me out to the fae.”

  “You told the Brothers about your mark?” Oxivius exclaimed, shaking his head in frustration. “I told you not to trust the vegans; why, oh why didn’t you listen?”

  “I thought it was a meat versus plants thing,” Xlina countered. “You could have said they were the information brokers of the fairy realm.”

  “That’s what I said, love,” Oxivius argued. “Not in as many words, but you can’t be naming such things in public like that.”

  “So what now?” Xlina asked apologetically. “How long will the coffin take?”

  “The night... maybe more,” Oxivius replied. He looked so very tired. Too tired.

  “Ox,” Xlina said cautiously, remembering the tale from before. “Whose life is the coffin taking to heal her?”

  “It’s no worry, love,” Oxivius replied wearily. “Tis a few months, no more. We’ll pull her out once she is stable.”

  “Why?” she asked, seeing the exhaustion in his eyes.

  “Because you were willing to die for her,” Oxivius replied matter-of-factly. “Her life was important to you.”

  “But I could have,” she protested.

  “No,” Oxivius answered sharply. “The coffin is attuned to me and me alone. It can only serve one master.”

  “What’s our next move?” Xlina continued firmly. What else could she expect from him? First he saved her life, and now he was trading on the balance of his own life to heal Amber, a vanilla bean human by his standards.

  “We rest,” Oxivius answered. “We regroup. Then we move you to holy ground, someplace the fae won’t try to purge you from again. Then we take care of that mark of yours.”

  “There is no out, Oxivius,” Xlina retorted stiffly.

  “Yeah that’s what I have heard too,” Oxivius agreed. “But if you don’t mind, I’d like to hear it from the source.”

  “Valeria?” Xlina challenged.

  “A demon,” Oxivius grinned wickedly. “Not a highborn or anything dangerous, but an imp I have tracked down in the area. A lesser demon we can squeeze for information.”

  “That’s a solid plan,” Xlina reasoned

  “After our disagreement, I got very drunk,” Oxivius replied innocently.

  “Well, it works for you,” she complimented.

  “It’s the best I could come up with and was my shot at a peace offering,” he offered with a smile.

  “Offering accepted,” Xlina said with a smile, looking at the man before her. He was such an oddity. Her father, society, everyone would call him evil, and he truly acted without remorse. He killed without regret, with the brutal effectiveness of a trained killer. Yet despite all that, here he was, just being himself—devilishly charming and deep down looking for nothing more than companionship.

  “Okay, that business aside, let’s see the mark,” he said, leaning back in his chair.

  “Why?” Xlina probed uncomfortably.

  “I have never seen one,” Oxivius stated blandly. “Plus, there may be some information we can obtain from it. Sigils, runes, or the secrets to infernal magic.”

  “You can’t see it,” Xlina said blushing.

  “Is it hidden,” Oxivius continued, looking at her arms curiously. “Does it only show when she is around?”

  “No, it’s visible,” Xlina assured, the tension in her answer hanging in the air.

  “Where is it?” he prodded suspiciously.

  “It’s under my right breast,” Xlina mumbled.

  “Really?” Oxivius said, his eyes fixated on her chest. “Does it hurt?”

  “It’s going to hurt you if you don’t keep those eyes up here, buster,” Xlina quipped.

  “No offense meant, love,” Oxivius replied quickly, patting his hands in the air innocently. “I have just never seen one up close.”

  “Never met a warlock?” Xlina asked.

 
“Just because I study death magic doesn’t mean I am in league with demons and their ilk,” Oxivius retorted with a raised eyebrow.

  “I meant you haven’t killed one,” Xlina corrected.

  “Not yet,” Oxivius said with a wry grin. “But I am still young. Is that how you see me?”

  “No... well, kind of,” Xlina said, biting her lower lip pensively while searching for the right words. “With the cephalopod, you took him out with ease. Like bam! Fatality! You know? Then the guy in the lobby.”

  “Isn’t perception grand?” Oxivius smiled, leaning forward as if bestowing a secret. “From your point of view, I look the triumphant hero, love. From my point of view, you went toe-to-toe with a beasty most would cower from. You traded punches with a creature that humbles the strongest of men and gave me both the blood and time to cast my spell, which felled the beast. As for the man in the lobby, I had optimal positioning, from behind while he was looking for someone else.”

  “Why, I would say you are trying to flatter me, Oxivius,” Xlina remarked with a smile. She couldn’t help but notice how tired he looked, as if he hadn’t slept for weeks. She knew the coffin was feeding off his life, transferring it to Amber. It was a gesture of friendship, an olive branch for no other reason than the perceived value of Amber to Xlina. The guilt for her accusatory tone in the park washed over her uncomfortably.

  “I do not speak falsehood for mere gratification,” Oxivius replied seriously. “The biggest annoyance I find in people is their lack of ability to see their own worth.”

  “My worth?” Xlina scoffed dismissively. “What is that, anyway? I have been fumbling about in the dark. I know but a fraction of what I need to about the Otherworld, and I have made a mess of everything, up to and including being marked by some demon hussy.”

  “Is that so?” Oxivius mocked with feigned surprise. “You set out on your own when your father refused you the secrets of the druids. Not to be denied, you began exploring your abilities on your own.”