The Devil's Standoff

by V. S. McGrath

  “Hettie.”

  Hettie whirled, knowing in her gut she was back on the road in-between. Behind her a woman watched her steadily, hands clasped in front of her. It took Hettie moment to recognize the Soothsayer of the South. “Patrice.”

  Guilt and a sense of panic surged through Hettie. “I’m sorry … I … I haven’t been able to find the source of the soothsayers’ blackout yet.” In fact, she’d hardly thought about the soothsayer. All these weeks in the village had made her forget a lot of things, including the contract she had with the matriarch of the Favreau family. Free of Villa del Punta’s confines, she felt a renewed sense of urgency. “We … we’re in trouble…”

  “Hettie, listen. More soothsayers are here.”

  “What? How is that even possible?”

  Patrice wrung her hands. “We can’t stay here indefinitely. I’m starting to fade—”

  Everything went dark. “Patrice?” Panic seized her, and Hettie groped around blindly, blinking hard as if the light might just come back. The air was close, suffocating. She struggled to breathe—

  “Hettie?” Abby’s voice brought her back to the surface. Her pounding heart eased. She was in the cave with her sister. The barest whisper, like an exhalation, and the tiny pebble brightened, casting the cave in cool violet light. Abby watched her with a serious expression as she touched Hettie’s brow with ice-cold fingers. “You have a fever.”

  “I’m all right.” Hettie sniffed the air and wrinkled her nose. The smell was more pronounced now—urine, but also something like rotten eggs. The faintest scrape, the scuff of sand and rock, echoed from deeper inside the cave.

  “Hettie…?”

  “Shh.” Something or someone was in there with them.

  Diablo slipped into her palm, caution trembling through every nerve. She felt a tug within her, from her outstretched hand to the center of her chest. The mage gun seemed to be leading her deeper into the cave.

  It would be madness to listen to the infernal revolver. But the insistent pull, or perhaps her own morbid curiosity, dragged her feet forward.

  “I’m going to check things out.”

  “You’ll need light.” Abby slipped her hand in Hettie’s resolutely and held up the glowing pebble, making her smile.

  They made their way down the narrow cavern, squeezing between tight gaps along the winding corridor. Eventually they emerged into a larger space. Abby set the pebble down and picked up a rock the size of her fist. It glowed a warm, orangey brown like a banked fire. Abby narrowed her eyes on it, muttering. Soon the rock blazed with a dazzling gold light.

  The foul smell wafted to Hettie’s nose again, and she followed it to a corner where a fissure as wide as her palm whistled. She examined it, running her fingers along the edge. The brittle rock crumbled like shortbread.

  “What do you suppose is on the other side?” Hettie asked, dusting her hands off. Given that foul smell she imagined nothing pleasant. And yet Diablo nudged her on.

  What could possibly be so important you’d want me to bust down a wall? ’Cuz I ain’t fixing to pull your trigger anytime soon.

  She stuffed the revolver into her pocket and was about to head back down the path when Abby put her hand to the wall. “I can hear them.”

  “Abby, I don’t think—”

  “They need light.” She placed both palms against the wall. The whole surface glowed dull brown, then orange. A cracking sound like clay pots smashing on the ground resonated through the cavern, and a fine dust showered down.

  “Abby!” The cave was going to collapse. But her sister stood firm, her eyes dark and blank as her power radiated through the stone. The wall spider-webbed with fractures. Hettie spun, arm flung out, and she pulled Diablo’s trigger just in time to vaporize a falling boulder that would have crushed both her and Abby.

  “Stop!” she shouted. Abby didn’t budge. To their right a section of the wall tumbled down. The top crumbled, falling inward. Only then did Abby back away as the whole section of the cave sloughed down in a curtain of rubble and sand.

  Hettie jumped atop Abby, eyes clenched tight, praying. She didn’t move until the grinding noise of the cave-in stopped. The air tasted foul. She rubbed the grit from her eyes, coughing. Abby didn’t make a sound.

  “Are you all right?” She checked her dust-covered sister over, keenly aware they’d need to leave quickly. Surely someone would’ve sensed Diablo—maybe they could even open a remote Zoom tunnel here.

  But Abby wasn’t looking at her. She was staring wide-eyed at where the wall used to be.

  Hettie turned and bit back a cry.

  The space that opened up before them was honeycombed with smaller niches dug out of the walls. A dark, viscous sac like a giant peeled grape, slightly bigger than Hettie, hung in each alcove, the contents within pulsing, writhing.

  Everything in here breathed. The cave stretched on and on, and each alcove was packed with three or four of the creatures at varying stages of growth. There had to be hundreds of sacs in here. Diablo sang shrilly in her mind, in warning or triumph, she wasn’t certain. All she knew for sure was that this was the chupacabra nest the villagers had been looking for.

  She couldn’t leave this place as it was. Walking away from a nest of rattlers for some poor fool to stumble upon was as much of a crime as throwing them into their tent. If anyone else was killed by the chupacabra, it would be her fault. She couldn’t be responsible for any more deaths.

  “C’mon, Abby. We can’t stay here. We have to destroy these creatures while they’re still vulnerable.”

  “Why?”

  Hettie reined in her growing anxiety. “Do you remember the monster that almost hurt us in the desert? The one that killed the horses in the stables? That’s what these are. We have to get rid of them or they’ll hurt someone else.”

  Her sister stared at her uncomprehendingly, then glanced at the sacs. “But … they’re just babies.”

  “I know, but they’ll grow up. It’s not their fault,” she amended grimly, “that’s just what they do. They’re wild animals. But we can’t leave them here. They could hurt our friends. Can you cast a big fire spell? Or a spell like you used to break down the wall?”

  Lines appeared between Abby’s eyebrows. “You said I’m not supposed to use magic to hurt.”

  “This is different. We have to—”

  “No.” She crossed her arms. “I won’t do it.”

  Fine time for Abby to develop a conscience, but she didn’t have time to argue. It was up to Hettie to destroy the nest.

  She told Abby to wait at the entrance as she ventured farther in. The honeycomb of alcoves became an unending maze. She’d called this place a nest, but it was more like a warren. The hum of life reminded her of clouds of buzzing flies and churning piles of maggots breeding in a corpse.

  With the glowing rock in one hand and Diablo in the other, she kept an ear out for other sounds. With this many “babies” the mother couldn’t be too far away.

  Assuming that was how these creatures came to be. Raúl had said they were demons that had crawled out of hell and possessed other creatures. But if that was the case, that meant they’d had to escape from hell through some kind of open portal.

  It didn’t make sense to her though. She’s been devoured by a hell gate, then spit back out. There was no escaping that maw. Any opening to hell left unchecked would’ve sucked the world in—that’d been what Zavi had wanted.

  So how were the chupacabra getting here?

  And then she saw it. Just beyond a circle of stalagmites sat a wooden worktable, its edges dripping with charms and talismans. Ancient runes drawn in dried blood and some kind of white powder adorned its surface. She didn’t know what they meant together, but the sick feeling in her stomach grew. She’d seen similar runes before in a book she’d helped makes notes in. And she recognized the penmanship.
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br />   Her senses flashed a warning. She whirled, Diablo outstretched, as she faced the one who’d been summoning the chupacabra.

  “Of all the places you could have gone,” Julia said with a sad smile, “you had to come here.”

  I don’t understand.” Hettie tracked the young woman as she glided deeper into the cave. “You summoned the chupacabra? Why?”

  “To protect my people. To protect Villa del Punta. Don’t you see? These creatures obey me.”

  The light in her dark, long-lashed eyes bordered on manic, and Hettie grew uneasy. “I thought you didn’t have the gift.”

  “Not a true gift, no. But I had the best tutor I could ever ask for. He lent me his power, gave me the ability to enhance my minor gifts.” Julia smiled almost dreamily, red lips spreading. “He understood what needed to be done.”

  “This is insane.” Hettie gestured around. “Javier would never condone this.”

  “You think that old fool taught me?” She scoffed. “Javier let my parents die because he was too weak to lead us, to teach us how to fight back. I swore I’d never let that happen to our people again. That was when I remembered the old stories about el chupacabra. We needed just such a creature to keep the army busy, to protect our lands. Demon familiars are loyal to their masters to the death. All I needed was the power to summon and control them.”

  “Are you mad?” She trained Diablo on Julia as she slowly circled around the table. If she was borrowing magic, there was no telling what she was capable of. “They’ve killed people all over the countryside. They’re wild, infernal creatures from hell, not your pets.”

  “They do my bidding,” Julia insisted venomously. “If anyone has died, it is because they were foolish enough to get in the way.”

  “You’ve enslaved them.” The thought came from deep within her, pulled through flesh and bone and metal and ivory. It was Diablo speaking through her. Hettie’s jaw clenched. Was this why Diablo had drawn her here? Was this why it hadn’t worked on the chupacabras? The answers danced on her perception, like motes of dust in the sunlight, glimmering with beautiful, dirty truth.

  “They are not slaves.” Julia’s wide smile gleamed. “They’re simply animals in need of training, like Las Furias.”

  “I doubt the villagers would see it that way. One of them almost killed Raúl.”

  “That would never have happened.” Raúl emerged from the cave mouth. Hettie swung her arm around, heart hammering. The sorcerer raised his hands slowly. “We had everything under control until you ran in. I’d planned to banish it before you interfered.”

  Hettie’s mind spun. Of course. Raúl was flush with magic, just like his father. Julia could choose no better “tutor.” “You knew about the chupacabra. You knew she was summoning them. You’ve been protecting her all this time.” Hettie pointed. “She was there in the stable that night.” She’d thought it was Abby’s nightgown she’d seen, but it had been Julia’s blouse.

  “Julia’s right. Everyone takes for granted the kind of sacrifices necessary to keep Villa del Punta from falling apart. We staged that chupacabra attack to show the people the dangers we faced if my father’s barrier spell ceased to be.”

  Hettie thought back to that night in the stables. “Javier knew something wasn’t right. But he loved you too much to cast suspicion on you.”

  “Love?” Raúl gave a mirthless laugh. “He didn’t love me. After my mother died, he replaced her, adopted a new son, gave him the power I rightfully deserved.” He sent her a look of disgust. “You would never have encountered Diablo if I’d been the one sent to retrieve it. My brother took too long in his mission.”

  “So this is all about Walker?” She glanced at Julia, then back at Raúl. Then she realized maybe it was all about Walker: the young woman loved Walker, and Raúl loved her. The puzzle pieces started snapping together.

  The sorcerer straightened. “You will never understand what it takes to protect those we love. I agreed with Julia’s aims, if not her methods.” He slid her a look. “I can’t argue about the results.”

  Hettie watched the “cousins” as they closed ranks. She didn’t have a lot of options, and Abby was right behind her. She had to protect her sister. “So what are you planning to do now? Kill us?”

  Raúl looked genuinely taken aback. “You killed my father and put all our lives in jeopardy. But I would never hurt you or Abby.”

  “If we don’t kill her, she’ll go back to the village and tell everyone,” Julia hissed. “And we can’t take that … that thing back with us.” She made the sign against evil at Abby.

  “Don’t be selfish, Julia. She is far more gifted than any of us, including Javier. I need her help to raise a new barrier.” His lips flattened. “Now that I know about her vampiric tendencies, we can proceed with better methods of training and control her powers.”

  “You think you’re taking us back?” Hettie kept them in her sights.

  He lifted his chin. “You do not have to come. In fact, I think it would be best for everyone, Abby included, if you left the country. You are only hindering her development.”

  “You’re not taking my sister.” Diablo’s weight strained her wrist, compelling her to end this with a pull of the trigger.

  Raúl went on calmly, “Think about this rationally. If Abby can raise a new barrier, everyone in Villa del Punta will be safe again. I can keep your sister protected there indefinitely, continue to train her and develop her powers. If you like, I could even send you back across the Wall.”

  She glared. “How?”

  “With the same spell the coyotaje used to ferry you across,” he said. “This cave is another magical node—a tertiary off the well of magic that I’ve kept hidden and protected. I’ve been plotting the shifting magical currents for years, and this cave has gathered quite a bit of power. It’s how we’ve been able to keep the chupacabra in stasis. We could use this power to send you home. Isn’t that what you wanted?” He approached her slowly, arms wide, imploring. “To be free of your sister? To leave Abby somewhere where she’ll be happy and healthy and safe from the Division of Sorcery’s reach?”

  Hettie firmed her stance. “I ain’t leaving her with the likes of you.”

  A low rumbling reverberated beneath her feet. Dust rained down from the ceiling.

  “What are you doing?” She trained Diablo’s muzzle on him.

  Raúl’s eyes widened. “That’s not me.”

  “Nor me.” Julia stared around.

  The sorcerer whirled and hurried around the corner. Julia followed. They had to know they couldn’t evade Diablo’s aim. What was going on?

  Hettie took Abby’s hand and quickly followed. If it was a cave-in, it would be too dangerous to exit the way they’d come.

  They climbed out onto the south side of the hill. The sky was inky black, the moon at its zenith. The low rumbling was louder outside.

  “Get down.” Raúl crouched next to Julia, and Hettie did the same, keeping Abby behind her. She peeked up and gasped.

  Below them, about three miles off, a river of darkness slithered. Here and there she caught tiny jeweled lights winking against the mass. The scent of acrid smoke and machine oil drifted to her nose. And then she heard the sound.

  Clanking. Heavy chains. A guttural engine like an old man clearing his throat. And a buzzing that sounded like a plague of metal locusts dancing on armor …

  “No…” Julia gasped. “No, it can’t be…”

  The Mexican army was on the move. And it was headed straight for Villa del Punta.

  How long will it take them to reach the village?” The lines of soldiers and vehicles stretched on and on into the dark.

  “Five hours, perhaps. A force that large will have to circle the hills and approach from the south.” Raúl peered through a spyglass pulled from his satchel. “That is El Toro’s army. I recognize the banners.” He hand
ed the spyglass to her with trembling hands.

  She put the brass piece to her eye. There were at least a thousand soldiers, but it wasn’t their numbers that made Hettie’s throat tighten. A machine as big as a house lumbered forward on metal treads. It was made of two distinct upper and lower segments, like a squat soldier in plate armor crab-walking across the desert. Smaller armored vehicles and horses wearing magic-proof helms surrounded the machine like shining beetle carapaces.

  “What is that?” she asked.

  “A weapon.” Raúl paced back into the cave, and they followed, their previous conflict forgotten. “Mechaniks all over the world have been developing metal war machines. That behemoth is impervious to magic.” He uttered an incantation, and the ceiling glowed a cool bluish-green color. “I need a way to stop them.”

  “You can’t stop that army. You need to get back to Villa del Punta and get everyone to evacuate.”

  “I will not abandon my home,” Raúl snapped. “My father’s barrier spell might be gone, but I can still protect my people.”

  “Don’t be an idiot. You think that army is headed to the village for peace talks? Even you can’t stop them all on your own.”

  “He is not on his own.” Julia drew a knife from her belt and sliced it across her palm. “They have an army of men and metal only. I have an army of hell’s own.” She slapped her hands onto the worktable.

  “Julia, no!”

  She began a slow, somber incantation, and the runes on the table glowed with black power. Raúl shouted at her to stop, but it was too late. A ripple of power pulsed through the room, and Raúl gasped and collapsed to his knees as if he’d been kicked. Abby whimpered and buried her face against Hettie’s side.

  All around them the viscous pods writhed, expanding and contracting as the creatures within stirred and stretched. Next to Julia, a claw burst through the sac, talons glistening as the beast within slit open its cocoon and tumbled out in a slick, wet mess.

  Hettie gathered Abby close and backed away, avoiding another bursting sac. In moments they’d be hip deep in chupacabras. “What’ve you done?”