Brimstone and Marmalade

by Aaron Corwin

  “I can’t have one,” Suzy said. “My mom’s allergic to demons.”

  Mathilde smiled at Suzy. “You can come over here and play with Ix’thor if you want.”

  “Really?”

  “It’s not that big a deal,” Becky said. “It’s just a demon. What good is a demon who doesn’t even do anything? I bet he bites.”

  Mathilde’s eyes widened and she pressed her lips together. Why did Becky have to be such a stuck-up brat? Why did Mother even invite her, anyway? Mathilde wanted to punch her, right in her turned-up nose.

  FOOLISH MORTALS, Ix’thor rumbled. NOW BEHOLD MY TRUE POWER!

  The inky clouds rolling around the bottom of Ix’thor’s robe rolled up for a moment, as if being sucked back into his body. Then, his cardboard sword held over his head, Ix’thor emitted a burst of crimson fire from his hands. The eldritch flame danced along the edges of the blade, licking and curling, but not burning.

  Robby looked like he was about to pee his pants. “Wow! You said he didn’t do any tricks!”

  “Well…” Mathilde tried not to look too smug. “Maybe he’s got one or two.”

  * * *

  It rained a lot in the fall. By the start of October it seemed like it had been raining forever. Mathilde slammed the door behind her and ran up the stairs to her room. She threw her soggy book bag on the floor and flopped facedown on the bed.

  Her sobs mingled with the patter on the fog-painted window. In the darkness between the cage’s curtains, two tiny red stars gleamed.

  WHAT TROUBLES YOU, MY MINION?

  “Shut up!” Mathilde said. “I’m not your minion!”

  She lifted her face from the pillow and looked at the dark, wet imprint she’d left there. She wiped her nose.

  “We had to make a collage,” Mathilde mumbled. “About animals. And Billy Haggerty … he said mine was ugly … and he took it … and he threw it in the mud! It’s ruined!”

  YOUR PLAN … WAS NEARLY COMPLETE?

  “Yes!” Mathilde squeezed her eyes shut. “Now I have to start all over!”

  DESTROY THE INTERLOPER!

  “Miss Hoevener says he’s just being a boy. She said … that’s what boys do when they like you. She says if I just ignore him then he’ll stop.”

  Ix’thor looked down for a moment, then raised his sword over his head. FEED HIM TO THE RAVENOUS TONGUE-BEASTS OF GARAKH’NURR!

  Mathilde sniffed. “I would, but I don’t know where that is.”

  Ix’thor reached out his little hand. GIVE ME YOUR SOUL AND I WILL GRANT YOU LIMITLESS POWER.

  Mathilde smiled a little. “Mom says I can’t have limitless power until I’m older. But you can have a grub soul.”

  Ix’thor waited patiently by the altar, his eyes glowing brightly.

  EXCELLENT.

  * * *

  On Halloween, a witch came to their house. She had a black pointy hat and a broomstick, green skin and a big, warty nose.

  “Nana!” Mathilde ran forward for a hug.

  “Oof!” Nana said. “This can’t be my little Matty-Patty, can it? How’s my little angel?”

  “I’m not an angel.” Mathilde raised the hood of her robe. “I’m a Dark Lord. Bow before me, mortals!”

  “Oh, my! I think I felt the earth tremble for a moment.”

  “Excellent. It is just as I have foretold.” Mathilde looked up. “And Ix’thor’s coming with us too.”

  Nana looked outside. “Oh, sweetie, the sun’s still out. I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

  “It’s okay. We got him a ball. See?”

  Mathilde picked up the crystal ball, which was filled with swirling black clouds. From deep inside its murky depths, two crimson points of light could barely be seen.

  “I made him an angel costume,” Mathilde said. “But you can’t really see it.”

  SOON YOUR TRANSFORMATION WILL BE COMPLETE. Ix’thor’s hollow voice rumbled from inside the ball.

  Mathilde whispered, “I don’t think he knows it’s Halloween.”

  “Well then, let’s not disappoint him,” Nana said. “Shall we collect some souls?”

  * * *

  Orange leaves flew across the street in twisted whirlwinds while the shadows of barren trees stretched their fingers slowly away from the sun. Mathilde made her way down the street with Ix’thor’s ball under one arm and her swollen bag of candy in the other.

  “That’s an awful lot of candy,” Nana said. “I’m certain we didn’t get that much candy when I was a girl.”

  “Ix’thor says fear keeps the peasants in line.”

  “Aha. Mathilde … you know not everything Ix’thor says is a good idea, right?”

  “Well, duh!” Mathilde rolled her eyes.

  “Of course. How silly of me. Anyway, I think it’s time we started heading back home.”

  “Wait!” Mathilde pulled on Nana’s cloak. “Just one more street, please? Just to the end of the block?”

  Nana sighed. “All right, but that’s it. I don’t want you crossing Washington Street. There’s too much traffic.”

  “I won’t.”

  MWA HA HA. Ix’thor laughed with a rumble that made Mathilde’s ears tickle on the inside. NOTHING CAN STOP US NOW.

  A cluster of trick-or-treaters was leaving the big stone house at the end of the street. Mathilde slowed down when she realized it was Becky and Sally Hamilton. She wanted to look away and cross the street, but Nana waved to them.

  “Happy Halloween!” Nana said in her big, witchy voice. “Eee-hee-he-hee!”

  “Hello.” Mrs. Hamilton wasn’t wearing a costume, just regular grown-up clothes and a bright orange vest. “Girls, say hello to your friend.”

  Becky and Sally were both dressed up in big, poofy dresses with lots of lace and glitter. Becky’s was blue and came with a sparkling tiara, while Sally, who was a few years younger, wore a pale green one with fairy wings and a wand.

  “Hello,” Becky said. Sally just mumbled and hid behind her mother’s leg.

  “Hi.” Mathilde noted with some satisfaction that Becky’s bag had less candy than her own. “What are you dressed up as?”

  “We’re princesses!” Becky straightened her tiara. “What are you supposed to be? An ink stain?”

  “Rebecca!” Mrs. Hamilton said. “That wasn’t very nice.”

  Becky winced at her mother’s words, but Mathilde just smiled.

  “That’s okay,” Mathilde said. “I don’t mind. I’ll just take my revenge when I rule the world. Mwa ha ha.”

  For some reason grown-ups always thought that sort of thing was hilariously funny. Both Nana and Mrs. Hamilton laughed out loud. Becky just glared.

  “Well, come on,” Nana said. “We don’t want your mother to worry about you. Nice seeing you, Kathy.”

  “Goodbye, Mrs. Clark. Say goodbye, girls.”

  “B-bye,” Sally muttered.

  “Bye,” Becky said.

  Mathilde started to walk away. She saw Becky’s foot move, but didn’t know what was happening until it was too late.

  “Oops!” Becky said. Mathilde felt the edge of her robe yank, and then she was falling forward, her hands out in front of her. The sidewalk hit her knees, skinning them. Candy scattered everywhere, over pavement and grass.

  Ix’thor went tumbling through the air, his ball reflecting the cold sunlight. It bounced once off the curb and once more off the side of a parked car. For one held breath Mathilde thought it was going to be okay, that the ball might roll harmlessly to a stop.

  Then her hope vanished in the heavy squeal of brakes and the sound of shattering glass.

  Mathilde screamed, trying to stand up, trying to run. Later she would remember Nana’s hands grabbing her, pulling her back from the edge of Washington Street, but, at the time, all Mathilde could see was the tiny shadow on the side of the road, with its crumpled paper wings shining in the bright autumn sun.

  “No!” Mathilde kicked and squirmed in Nana’s grip. There was a crowd of people standing around n
ow. A row of stopped cars backed up on either side of the street.

  “Cover him up!” Mathilde screamed. She tore her own robe trying to get away. “He needs dark! He needs the dark!”

  “Mathilde!” Nana shouted. Mathilde ran to the little body and kneeled over it, trying to give him some shade.

  “Ix’thor!” Mathilde sobbed. “Please!”

  NO! The little Dark Lord reached one hand toward Mathilde’s tears. THIS … CANNOT … BE. I AM … IN … VINCIBLE …

  * * *

  “But demons are pretty strong, right?” Father said. “You said they’re almost impossible to kill.”

  “Dark Lords are weaker in direct sunlight.” That was the old man from the demon store, with his checked shirt and big, round glasses. “Much weaker. I’m sorry. I did all I could.”

  Mathilde sat in the dark of her room. She wondered when they would realize she could hear them through the door.

  She wondered if she’d be that stupid when she was a grown-up.

  “I’ll talk to her,” Nana said. “It’s my fault that this happened.”

  “No,” Mother said. “I’ll do it.”

  The door cracked open. It was the only light in the room.

  “Matty?” Mother looked around. “Are you in there?”

  “You can turn the light on,” Mathilde said from her bed. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

  Mother closed the door behind her and turned up the lights just a little bit.

  “His tower fell down,” Mathilde said. “In his cage. I tried to prop it back up, but it just kept crumbling.”

  “Oh, sweetie!” Mother sat down on the bed and pulled Mathilde into her lap. Mathilde squeezed her eyes shut. All the tears she had left were hiding in her throat, making a lump.

  “It wasn’t your fault,” Mother said. “There was nothing anyone could have done.”

  Mathilde thought of Becky, but if it made Mother feel better to think so, then she wasn’t going to argue.

  “If…” Mother trailed off and tried again. “Father and I were talking to Nana. When you’re ready, if you still want one…”

  “I don’t want a pony,” Mathilde said. “I want Ix’thor. But I can’t have him back, can I?”

  Mother looked like she was about to cry. “No. I’m sorry.”

  Mathilde snuggled into her mother’s arms. Mother did cry then, a little. After a while, Mathilde looked up.

  “Then … can I get a pony with glowing red eyes, and crush the skulls of my enemies beneath his flaming hooves?”

  Mother laughed a little and kissed Mathilde’s forehead. “We can find one with glowing eyes, if you want.”

  Mathilde sighed into her mother’s embrace, listening to her heartbeat. “It’s a start.”

  Copyright (C) 2013 by Aaron Corwin

  Art copyright (C) 2013 by Chris Buzelli