The Infernal Games

by Reed Logan Westgate

  “Don’t think too hard on it,” Oxivius smiled, glad that he had succeeded at least in part at drawing her thoughts away from the demon and the mark. “The larger mysteries of the world and how it all comes together are beyond the grasp of folk like us.”

  “Then what’s the point, Oxivius?” she asked resolutely, shaking her head in disbelief. “Angels, demons, fae, monsters... what’s the point of it all?”

  “Scholars and wise men far greater than I have spent their lives trying to discover that, love,” Oxivius answered truthfully. “I doubt you’ll get the answer sitting at your kitchen table sharing water with a death eater.”

  “How about sharing with a friend?” Xlina corrected with a smile, a glimmer of hope flaring to life in her chest, a sudden feeling of warmth, fighting the cold, empty vacuum Valeria had left in her wake. It would be alright. They would figure it out or they wouldn’t, but either way, she wasn’t alone. Although she couldn’t bring herself to talk about Valeria and her vulnerabilities, being able to talk did help.

  “Aye, love,” Oxivius smiled in return. “I like that better.”

  They sat in silence for a moment, sipping water and just soaking up each other’s company. Xlina couldn’t help but wonder if he too had been searching for something. He seemed so eager to help and so supportive, yet he was sad and lonely in a way. The curse of his lineage had altered the course of his life in a similar manner as her Baku nature. It was a hybrid life, living between the mundane and the magical but belonging to neither. She knew the encroaching solitude that such a distinction bought and felt like a kindred spirit to the peculiar man.

  “What next, Ox?” she asked. “Where do we go from here?”

  “To see an old acquaintance.” Oxivius smiled thoughtfully. “A butcher, a baker, and if we are lucky, a candle maker. Go get cleaned up. There is much to be done.”

  She eyed him quizzically but thought better of asking anything further, noting the gleam in his eye. She finished her water and grabbed a handful of clothes from her drawers before heading into the bathroom.

  “I’ll be quick,” she said as she closed the door.

  The sights of the city rose before her, and smells of the Old Port filled her nostrils with each step. The Old Port was close enough to the harbor that she could smell the salty beach air, and the cawing of a flight of seagulls fighting over discarded and abandoned french fries completed the beach-like atmosphere. Portland was the largest city in Maine, but for the small rural state, that meant a population of a mere sixty to seventy thousand people. Unlike the city of Boston, where she had been raised, Portland lacked that overwhelming big city feel. In pockets, like the historic Old Port District, it still felt quaint, like a harbor forgotten by the ravages of time. There were no big box stores or mini-malls; the Old Port was a collection of historic buildings filled with small businesses. The walk from her apartment had been brisk, and she was surprised they hadn’t taken the hearse until Oxivius had revealed he wasn’t legal to drive, and some metaphysical mumbo jumbo about the hearse not actually being a car, but rather a vessel to cross the Mist, not unlike the Greek tales of the riverman and his boat ferrying travelers across the River Styx into Hades, which was his reasoning for the license plate.

  “So where are we going?” Xlina asked impatiently. The shower had felt wonderful, and washing away the sweat and grime from the day before had been just what she needed. She was dressed casually with blue denim skinny jeans that sat low on her hips and a white shoulder-less blouse that had a crisscross pattern of fabric ties on each side. It wasn’t something she would have picked out herself; it had been a gift on her last birthday from her sister, Sheezara. She hadn’t really looked at the ensemble when she had rummaged through her drawers, but she felt strong and confident as she walked next to Oxivius in the unseasonably warm autumn morning. His cane tapped on the brick walk in unison with the clop of her heeled leather boots as they navigated their way through the busy streets.

  “To take care of the housing situation,” Oxivius smiled, proudly tapping his cane twice to accentuate his point. He looked dapper, with his black jacket over a fine red button-up shirt paired with a black vest. He always looked so formal; it was hard not to feel like a slob around him. With matching black pants and black leather shoes, to say he stood out was an understatement. “I have an acquaintance in this neighborhood that may be able to help with your housing concerns, providing you make a good impression.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Xlina prodded, poking at Oxivius with her index and middle fingers. He batted them away casually with his free hand and turned a sharp corner, cutting through an alley and causing Xlina to nearly stumble as she veered to match his direction.

  “Less play,” he chided with a smile. “More walking.”

  “At least a hint?” Xlina questioned impatiently.

  “It’s over there,” he pointed with the end of his cane extended. Xlina followed the tip of the cane down the alley to a row of houses and buildings that were historically preserved but converted to businesses and store fronts. Peeking out from behind the row of buildings stood the looming steeple of an old and worn cathedral.

  “Are you taking me to church?” Xlina asked incredulously. “Might be a little late for that.”

  “Of course not,” Oxivius chuckled smugly, once again turning the corner as they approached the end of the alley and working his way around the bend in the sidewalk around the row of businesses. Xlina hurried along, passing by the window-shoppers and tourists that cluttered the small brick sidewalks of the Old Port. As they made their way down with the flow of traffic, she could see the outline of the steeple coming closer, and with another sharp turn, she found herself on the same street as the building.

  “Seems like it,” she said, pointing to the aging cathedral building. Despite resting in the confines of the city, the cathedral had a large open yard fenced in with a black wrought-iron gate. The path to the doors was cobbled stone and led up to a set of large wooden doors. The building itself was a collection of peeling white and gray paint that seemed to look more dingy and in need of repainting the closer they got. To her surprise, Oxivius strolled right past the cathedral without so much as a second glance.

  “Looks can be deceiving, love,” Oxivius chided, tapping the end of his cane twice for good measure before pointing to a gooseneck sign down the walkway. It was an old-fashioned sign, looking like something from the days of the pilgrims. A black iron arm extended out from a cobbled stone building that looked nearly as old as the cathedral. From the arm hung a sign on an oval-shaped wooden plaque that read Heart’s Hearth Tavern.

  “You’re taking me for a drink?” Xlina sighed in exasperation with a quick backhanded slap across his arm. “I thought you were being serious.”

  “Oh, quite serious,” Oxivius replied as he approached the front of the tavern. The building itself stood two stories tall and looked exceptionally plain. The door was seated in the center of the cobbled stone building, painted a dark forest green with scratches and scuffs. To either side of the door were large display windows tinted far too dark to see through. Oxivius reached for the door, pulling it wide and gesturing with his cane for Xlina to enter first.

  “Wonderful,” Xlina said with a mock curtsey before entering the dimly lit tavern. The inside was quaint, with a dozen scattered tables made of thick old wood. The entire place had a feel like it had been dragged from pilgrim days into the present. Black iron circle chandeliers hung from the tall open ceiling, providing a dim light matched by a cobbled stone fireplace at the far end of the room. To one side of the room was an open bar with an adjacent door that no doubt led to the kitchen. On the other side was a winding staircase that led up to the second floor balcony, which extended to only half the size of the building. The balcony opened with some potted plants and homey type decorations and a series of doors that matched the style of the kitchen. The smell of freshly baked bread filled her nostrils, and her stomach growled in response.
r />   “Burgle,” Oxivius exclaimed, tapping his cane thrice on the hardwood floor.

  “We don’t open till eleven,” a faint female voice called from the kitchen.

  Oxivius smiled awkwardly at Xlina before rapping his cane on the floor again. He waited patiently as the echo of his cane reverberated through the open concept foyer, which was the dining area. Xlina glanced at him nervously, feeling as though they were intruding someplace they shouldn’t, and he met her gaze with a smile and a wave of his free hand, signaling her to be patient. As if on cue, the door to the kitchen burst open, ushering in a fresh wave of the savory smell of fresh baked goods, which assaulted Xlina’s senses. Her mouth watered in hunger at the delicious banquet of smells filling her nostrils. She could easily pick out baked apples, bread, and pie from the tantalizing mix of aromas. There, standing at the center of the symphony of flavors, stood a plump, aged woman with a ruddy face outlined by wispy salt and pepper hair that was tied back with a black handkerchief. She wore a plain brown dress under a heavily stained white apron and looked suspiciously down her bulbous nose through a pair of silver wire-framed glasses.

  “Master Oxivius,” she squealed in glee, beaming a wide, crooked smile that showed three missing teeth. She waddled more than walked on her short stubby legs from the kitchen door to where they were standing and wrapped the unsuspecting necromancer in a fierce hug, with more strength than apparent for a woman of her size. Oddly, Xlina felt a pang of jealousy. All this time, she had assumed Oxivius was as isolated as she was, but here he was pulling out friends from nowhere.

  “It’s been too long, Penny,” Oxivius said in the awkward embrace, wriggling deftly from the stout woman’s grasp and adjusting his coat. He frowned slightly at the white flour marks on his otherwise pristine black jacket and vest.

  “Burgle,” the woman named Penny called back to the kitchen. “It’s Oxy, Burgle. Get out here and say hello.”

  The sound of pots and pans clattering in the kitchen echoed past the bar and filled the room, accompanied by a deep male voice cursing in a strange language unfamiliar to Xlina. Heavy footfalls thumped toward the door. With a plume of aromas, the door swung open once again, reminding Xlina of how hungry she was. In the doorframe stood a mountain of a man with a thick black handlebar mustache that curled at the ends like that of a villain from the Saturday morning cartoons. He was broad and tall, muscled with a layer of fat like the strongmen of old. His massive arms were covered in tattoos, which seemed to be more than just random images. Xlina could pick out glyphs and magical symbols here and there, no doubt with many more hidden in plain sight.

  “Hi, boss,” he said in a baritone softened with a southern drawl. “Been a real long time.”

  “Burglecut, my good man,” Oxivius said, extending a hand that soon disappeared into the massive paw of the giant chef, who eagerly extended a hand of his own and brought his opposite hand up to clap Oxivius on the shoulder with such force that the necromancer stumbled a step forward.

  “What brings you back, boss?” Burglecut asked with a toothy smile. Unlike Penny, his teeth were all accounted for and seemed to glimmer an impossible white.

  “My young friend here is in need of help,” Oxivius explained, nodding to Xlina, who still stood flabbergasted at the whole display.

  “Your friend?” Penny shrieked, slapping both hands on her cheeks in surprise as she carefully eyed Xlina. “Oxy done gone and made him friends, Burgie.”

  “Good for you, boss,” Burglecut smiled with an appreciative nod. “Bout time you spent some effort on the living; just saying, boss.”

  “Deary me, don’t embarrass the boy, Burgie,” Penny said, waddling up to Xlina and taking her hand unceremoniously, half leading and half dragging her to a nearby table to sit.

  “Excuse me,” Xlina protested awkwardly as the stout woman hemmed and hawed about her, making sure she was comfortable.

  “I’m sorry, dear,” Penny said. “Can I get you something? Food? Drink? My goodness, if you have been spending your time with Oxy, then you probably haven’t had a decent meal in ages. I’ll be right back.”

  As if a fire were scorching her bottom, the woman hopped slightly. Spinning in a whirl that sent a cloud of flour billowing out from her apron, she dashed away into the kitchen, muttering about “needing to get some meat on them bones.” Oxivius cast a plaintive look at Xlina as if to apologize, and she shrugged helplessly.

  “How long you been back, boss?” Burglecut asked with another pat on the back that staggered the well-dressed necromancer.

  “Not long, Burglecut,” Oxivius explained. “Honestly, I meant to stop in sooner, but things got out of hand.”

  “You’re here now, boss,” Burglecut answered brightly. “That’s all that matters. Lemme help Penny throw something together, boss.”

  Oxivius nodded warmly, and the giant of a man named Burglecut just beamed from ear to ear with a grin. He spun on his heels and stormed toward the kitchen door, calling for Penny to get the good stuff from the back as he pushed through the door and disappeared. Oxivius turned and approached the table, sliding a chair out across from Xlina and sitting. He frowned at a splotch of gravy on his shoulder where Burglecut had greeted him, and with a heavy sigh, he produced a handkerchief to begin cleaning the smudge away.

  “They seem friendly,” Xlina ventured, not quite sure how she was feeling. It wasn’t that she was possessive of her new friend, but she was dismayed to realize he wasn’t as alone as she had expected. She waited for a response as Oxivius focused on the spot on his shoulder, rubbing the material vigorously with squinted eyes and a scrunched up nose. She nearly laughed at the visage of the man but instead repeated her statement. “They do seem friendly.”

  “Oh yes,” Oxivius said vacantly, looking at the spot once more and the splattering of flour on his vest and sighing in resignation. The sounds of pots and pans clattering in the kitchen prevented an awkward moment of silence as he carefully folded his handkerchief and returned it to his pocket. Resting both hands atop his cane, he finally returned his gaze to the impatiently waiting Xlina.

  “What are we doing here?” Xlina asked, looking around at the establishment and shrugging.

  “Well, any minute now,” Oxivius whispered, eyeing the door to the kitchen and then looking back at Xlina, “those two are going to come through the door with piles of delicious treats. It’ll be the best lunch you have ever had.”

  “It’s too early for lunch, Ox,” Xlina retorted.

  “Brunch” Oxivius corrected with a wink.

  “How does that keep me safe from you-know-who?” Xlina quipped, though the grumble in her stomach and the saliva in her mouth were more than eager to sample the wares whose aromas tantalized her senses.

  “Holy ground,” Oxivius replied smartly.

  “The cathedral down the way?” Xlina asked again, her frustration at his penchant for making her guess clear in her voice.

  “Here, silly girl,” he replied, extending a hand toward the open dining hall.

  “This is holy ground?” She repeated skeptically. “A tavern?”

  “Oh yes,” Oxivius said with a wink. “This building was the first church built by the early settlers. Back when the harbor was but a handful of buildings, the church doubled as the town hall and served warm meals as often as it served sermons. The cathedral was built much later for a more grandiose appearance, but this is the building that was erected on holy ground all those years ago. The Heart’s Hearth is a protected establishment.”

  “Protected?” Xlina asked, looking around. “I mean it’s quaint, and the food smells delicious, but it’s not exactly what I expected.”

  “It’s perfect,” Oxivius gleamed, looking at the old building. “The demon will know you’re here, but she won’t be able to pop in on you uninvited.”

  “You mean for us to live here,” Xlina stated more in shock than in question.

  “Upstairs, yes,” Oxivius nodded. “If Mr. and Mrs. Burglecut agree to harbor you.”


  “What about dragging in mortals to the affairs of the Otherworld?” Xlina retorted. “What happened to that? Or was it just Amber?”

  “Burglecut is an Otherworlder,” Oxivius shrugged as if it were obvious. “This tavern is of the Otherworld.”

  “What do you mean?” Xlina looked more closely at the room and its furnishings. It was more than just the decor. The room had an ancient feel to it. Beyond that, there was a thrum of energy here that tickled her stomach.

  “Holy ground, love,” Oxivius said, tapping his cane on the floor to accentuate his point. “The tavern is built on intersecting ley lines. That’s what makes it holy ground, not some water sprinkled around by a guy in a dress.”

  “Ley lines,” Xlina whispered, remembering hearing about the patterns of energy that crossed the globe from her father. He had warned her to stay away from ley lines, as the energy would only enhance her nightmares.

  “Yes,” Oxivius affirmed. “Ley lines. The tavern itself is for those like us. Mortals like Amber can walk up and down the way till their heart’s content, but they will never stumble through the doors. Heart’s Hearth can only be found by those that have already been there.”

  “That’s some enchantment,” Xlina echoed, looking at the tavern with more respect than before and seeing sigils and warding here and there on the nooks and crannies. A ward of some kind was carved into the stone above the door.

  “How do you know them?” she asked, not wanting to be intrusive but desperately fighting the feeling that he had omitted many things about his life up until this point.

  “Old acquaintances.” Oxivius shrugged as if it were the least important piece of the puzzle. “The important part is the Burnished Rose wouldn’t dare to attack you here, and the tavern will be filled with Otherworlders on a nightly basis. This is what you wanted?”