“And you hate it. Come on, admit it. The great tactician saddled with a boy carrying around more power than a hundred thunderbolts, maybe even a thousand, and you absolutely hate it. Don’t you?” Hadrovel stabbed a sausage-sized finger into Jerlo’s chest while he delivered that stunner.
“And what makes you say that?” Jerlo slapped the psycho’s hand away.
“You don’t get it.” Hadrovel pivoted and shook his head at a ceiling covered in diaper-clad cherubs of all things.
The ancient race who had built this labyrinthine complex were guilty of even poorer taste than the Litherians. A feat Jerlo hadn’t thought possible until now.
“What don’t I get? All you’ve given me is a lot of hot air and bluster.”
“That’s how she got to you, through your hate.”
“I don’t hate Sarn. Half the time I have no idea what to do with him, and the other half I want to shake him, but I don’t hate him.” Jerlo sat on a pile of debris. Their guides had vanished two minutes ago on a mysterious errand.
“Not hate, but you do feel guilt or regret,” Rat Woman offered as she exited the leftmost tunnel with a sack slung over one shoulder. Insect Man stepped up behind her, and he too carried a pack.
“Any strong emotion will attract a demon,” Insect Man added.
Rat woman shook her head. “Not love, friendship, charity or deep faith, those four repel demons.”
“Guilt eh? Well, that explains a lot.” Jerlo rubbed his temples. This whole affair had been one gigantic mind fuck. At least now he knew who to blame for those flashbacks—Vanya.
“A demon can suggest, but never force. Whatever you did or experienced because of your guilt, was not wholly her doing. All she can do is plant the idea. Some part of you must embrace it. Only then can it flower.”
So then those ultra-vivid flashbacks were partly his mind working through his guilt or regret. That made sense. Jerlo glanced at those cherubs then shut his eyes. Thanks Lord for that kick in the mental pants earlier. I see what you were doing—using the demon to point out the error of my ways. We’ll discuss atonement later because Jerlo needed to be ‘at one’ with his Lord again.
“Which way leads to the Lower Quarters?”
“That way.” Rat Woman nodded to the rightmost tunnel.
“What’s in the bag?”
Rat Woman squeezed it. “Nothing important,” she muttered as she slipped past him.
But he could guess—all her worldly possessions. How else could she and Insect Man know this area so well?
“How long have you two lived down here?”
“For a couple of weeks now, I guess it was obvious, huh.”
Jerlo nodded then froze when knocking sounds issued from a pipe overhead. Since when were pipes left exposed? The Litherians were fanatical about hiding the inner workings of their stronghold. If the Litherians hadn’t built this part of the complex under Mount Eredren, then who had?
Jerlo and Insect Man exchanged a worried glance as the knocking grew louder and more insistent.
“How many minions do demons create?”
“It varies. Vail, our maker, made three but Vanya’s demon is different.”
“Different how?”
“She’s less able to influence, and she lacks Vail’s dark charisma, but Vail couldn’t make minions like hers.” Insect Man shrugged unable to explicate further.
“Then we’d better run because I think her other minion is in the pipes.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I saw a woman made of water rise out of the fountain before my staff cut it in half.”
Insect Man’s lips formed a perfect O, then he and Jerlo broke into a run.
The pipe clanged as a fist pressed against the metal impressing four slender fingers into it. Black and white swirls blurred to their right and left as they slipped and slid along an unending tile floor. Its chessboard pattern gave the corridor a surreal feel. So did the strange recessed globes lighting this hallway. They were conglomerates of a flickering, milky-gray crystal polished to a high sheen. Did lumir even come in gray?
The foursome rounded several bends, but the drab color scheme remained, making it hard to tell if they were getting anywhere or running in circles. Every meter looked the same as the last one. A high-pitched whistle chased them. It grew louder as they ran until water jetted out of a junction between two pipes. Steam fogged the air scorching their lungs.
Jerlo breathed through his tunic, but it was little help against the searing heat. Rat Woman turned a wheel, and a metal door groaned open. A wave rushed them, but Hadrovel shouldered the door shut. Some of the water leaked through until he found a boulder to wedge against the door. But Vanya’s watery minion didn’t rise from the resulting puddle. Nor any pounding sound from the other side. Was she biding her time? Jerlo dragged the toe of his boot through the shallow puddle, but nothing happened. Perhaps they had eluded her.
“Now where to?” Jerlo held his palm up so the cross emblazoned on it could illuminate the tunnel. Moldering banners hung from the stalactite-studded ceiling. They drifted in the breeze as Rat Woman got her bearings.
Insect Man flew off and returned a moment later. “It’s that way, but we have a problem.”
“Now what is it?” A hydra? The Nemean lion? What Insect Man said next, made Jerlo’s jaw drop in surprise. He’d expected anything but that. Even he couldn’t deny the diabolical sense this snafu made.
Lord, could you throw a few less stumbling blocks my way? Your servant has actual work piling up on his desk. Jerlo could sense those evil fairies and the paperwork they were dropping by the wagonload on his desk. Not to mention Rangers were wandering around without his leadership—never a good thing. Well, he’d better deal with this new crisis before it got out of hand.
Insect man dissolved his wings and donned a cloak he removed from his pack before they entered a long gallery crowded with people. Pink lumir ran in parallel bands along both sides of the vast chamber highlighting the groups of sullen children sitting around an underground lake. Its waters were so still, it mirrored the ceiling and the island of pink lumir in its center. Adults milled around while blue-uniformed guards kicked in the makeshift doors of hovels. It looked like a manhunt was underway.
“So there really was a jailbreak,” Jerlo mused aloud.
“Yes, there was. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that would you?” Nulthir rounded a dark pink stalagmite and regarded Jerlo with bloodshot eyes.
“How long has the search been going on?”
“Twelve hours already, and we’ve found nothing.” Nulthir slapped a pair of gloves against his thigh sending up a dust cloud.
To underscore the Guard Captain’s words, the bells of Mount Eredren rang sixteen times. His oubliette adventure had eaten up most of a day. Jerlo blinked at this realization. What had his people done without his leadership for all that time? Was there a separate search underway for him? Probably. What an absolute mess.
“Commander? Are you alright?”
“Mmm, yes, I’m fine.” Jerlo shoved his glowing palm deeper into his pocket and hoped his religious articles weren’t what was grabbing Nulthir’s attention.
“Who are your companions?” Nulthir looked directly at Hadrovel.
Had Nulthir been at the execution? Jerlo didn’t remember him being there, but in those days, Nulthir would have been part of the rank and file guards. So he might have attended. Would he remember five years later? Yes, the execution had been a memorable one, but only if he was close enough to see Hadrovel’s face.
Just to be on the safe side, Jerlo turned Nulthir away from his party. “Oh, no one you’d know. Just some local folks filling me in on some intriguing gossip. You know how the forest is.” Jerlo waved his non-glowing hand in dismissal. “I take my intel from anywhere I can get it.”
“If you don’t mind my asking, where have you been? I’ve sent innumerable messages to your office, but I haven’t received a single reply.”
&
nbsp; “I’ve been on Ranger’s business. It’s kept me busy, and I’m still on it.”
“If this was your mess to clean up, how would you do it?”
“I’d wait for the scum to float upstairs. Up there’s where the real money is. Anyone who chooses to stay down here isn’t who you need to be arresting. These people are too poor to make good targets.”
Nulthir nodded. His thoughts marched in step with Jerlo’s. “So you’d call off the hunt?”
“If you’ve been at this for twelve hours, then yes. Give your men a break and take one yourself. You’re no good to anyone dead on your feet from exhaustion.”
“True, true, you may have a point there. Thank you for your advice and good luck on your errand.” Nulthir waved to a guard exiting a nearby hovel. “Atalis—call off the hunt.”
Jerlo signaled his party to move. “Quick, while he’s distracted, let’s go.”
Rat Woman nodded and led the way with Insect Man bringing up the rear. As the Guards withdrew, the denizens of this cavern drifted back to their hovels. Some lingered in groups discussing the invasion of their privacy forcing Jerlo and his company to squeeze past them to escape this gallery. How in God’s name did Sarn live down here in this crowded squalor?
They wended through tunnels for a solid half hour before entering a gauntlet of broken stones requiring a hell of a lot of climbing to cross. The contrary Kid would live far from the general populace in a place that was a pain in the ass to reach. Once on the other side, Insect Man signaled for silence.
“We’re very close,” Rat woman whispered in Jerlo’s ear. “What’s the plan?”
Plan? Oh right, he was the tactician, and it was time he stopped reacting and took charge. But first, “I need to see the situation.”
“Done,” Insect Man mouthed then his arm dematerialized, and a cloud of flies took its place. They flew around what felt like the hundredth bend in this endless tunnel system, and a rat followed them.
Jerlo quirked a brow in Rat Woman’s direction, but she just shrugged. Well, she did call herself ‘Rat Woman,’ so why not?
Rat Woman stiffened then traded panicked glances with Insect Man. “They have him.”
The ‘him’ in question required no explanation.
“Then let’s get him back.” Jerlo rose from his crouch.
A gray cloud settled against Insect Man’s shoulder and rebuilt his left arm. He led the way into another tunnel, this one lit by a piss-colored strip of lumir. More bland stone, the same cheerless gray as every other damned tunnel down here, curved around a bend.
Insect Man slowed as they approached a door fashioned from discarded bits of things. It hung from one hinge since the other had been sheared off. Beyond it, an untidy, hemispherical cave spread out, and there was Sarn, out cold on a thin mattress.
“He’s not dead, just sleeping,” Rat Woman whispered in Jerlo’s ear.
Indeed, his chest did rise and fall with steady breathing. An overturned cup lay in a puddle nearby, but there was no sign of Vanya.
“Where is she?”
Insect Man pointed to the rickety stool, and the air around it rippled, revealing the demoness.
“Where’s her snaky friend?”
“There,” Insect Man gestured to the mattress. Snake Woman appeared sitting cross-legged with Sarn’s head in her lap. Her three-inch claws rested against his throat. She giggled like a maniacal school girl showing off her fangs.
“Kid, we’re going to have a long chat about the company you keep after we get out of this.” Jerlo shook his head in consternation.
“What now?” Rat Woman asked.
A good question, so Jerlo stepped forward as the leader of this rabble and put the question to Vanya. He spread his arms wide showing they were empty. Figuring God’s rod would be more useful as a surprise, he’d leaned it outside the cave until he could ram it down Vanya’s throat. Insect Man’s gloves covered Jerlo’s hands hiding his glowing palm. With luck, the two creatures would assume him to be harmless.
“You wanted us to come here. Well, here we are. So what do you want?”
Vanya smiled. “You—I want you, Jerlo. You can order him to do whatever you want, and he has to obey.”
A child shouted something out in the tunnel, but the echoes of his cry were drowned out by Hadrovel, who pushed past Jerlo.
“Then you want me because he also has to do what I say also and I’m damned near invincible.”
Vanya scoffed at him. “You’re a broken man with no influence on those in power. What could you possibly offer me?”
“I know how to summon more of your friends.”
“Hadrovel—no!”
Rat Woman squeezed Jerlo’s shoulder stopping him from interfering as she leaned in close behind him to whisper in his ear.
“Keep them busy. I’ll be right back.”
A little boy’s shout trailed off into a sob. Oh God no, the boy was coming this way.
Jerlo nodded, and Rat Woman slipped out into the hall. No doubt she was headed to corral the lost child and take him to a safer location. A good plan and one Jerlo could get behind.
On her way out, Rat Woman snatched a stuffed bear from the floor then darted into the tunnel. A little boy crashed into her legs. He raised his tear-streaked face and blinked puffy green eyes at her.
“Why didn’t Papa come?” Two fat tears rolled down Ran’s reddening cheeks. He wiped them away with the back of his hand. “Papa always comes for me, always. Something must be wrong with him. I must go to Papa. He needs me.”
“No, no, you need to be safe.” She crouched in front of Ran and held out a ratty stuffed bear.
“Bear!” Ran hugged his companion tight and buried his face in his friend’s fur. “Papa’s in trouble.”
“Yes, he is, but we’re fixing that.” Rat Woman took the boy of four into her arms and rose. “You need to be safe in the meantime. He’ll come for you soon.”
“You promise?”
She nodded and carried him a hundred-feet down the tunnel to another door, one she’d seen the child enter every day since she’d begun watching him and his mage-gifted father.
“But Papa,” Ran cried into her shoulder and she rubbed his back.
A paw tapped her arm, and she met the button eyes of a stuffed animal. Bear winked at her and hugged his crying friend. A startled Rat Woman set the boy and his strange toy down, so she could open the door and hand him off to the people who were supposed to be watching him. When no one came to collect the boy, she poked her head in. Finally, a girl in braids came running, and Rat Woman glared at the fresh-faced teenager.
“Watch him closely. He’d better not escape until his father comes for him. It’s not safe out here.”
She gave Ran another pat on the head then shut the door on his choking sobs. He’d be alright eventually. Vanya couldn’t be powerful enough to keep his father unconscious for long. But exhaustion was, and Sarn rarely ever slept for more than a few hours at a time. All that wakefulness had to add up to one enormous sleep deficit. If so, then even the mildest suggestion could put him under for quite some time. Unless Ran’s distress broke through Vanya’s tampering—she shuddered at the thought. There was a power inside Sarn that was both attractive and terrifying in the hands of such a novice, and it drew her.
All the better to end this now. There was no telling what would happen if he woke to find his home invaded and his son in tears. That couldn’t be allowed to happen. He needed to stay in the Lower Quarters where she and Insect Man could keep an eye on him. Heart in mouth, Rat Woman rushed back to a cave she often spied on.
“I doubt that.” Vanya smiled like a cat in cream. She had everyone exactly where she wanted them.
Worry stabbed Jerlo. He should do something, but what could he do? Volunteer to take Hadrovel’s place as Vanya’s pawn? Wait a minute, that’s what she wants. She doesn’t want Hadrovel. This is a show put on for my benefit, but why?
“What do I bring? Fear, I thought that was obvious. He�
��s terrified of me.” Hadrovel waved in Sarn’s general direction. Something about his speech rang false. In fact, everything about Hadrovel was wrong from his languid stance to the fists propped on his hips. There was a satisfied gleam in his dark eyes that matched the one in Vanya’s.
“Who are you?” Jerlo demanded.
Hadrovel grinned as his skin flowed like colored wax and became as transparent as water revealing the liquid woman he’d cut in half earlier. Jerlo dodged the fist she threw at him, but she was flowing water. So her other fist wrapped around his throat, squeezing it while he struggled and cursed himself for letting his guard down. What an elementary mistake, but it was too late to correct it. The edges of Jerlo’s vision darkened as the world winnowed away. He struggled to suck in a trickle of air and fought the pull of unconsciousness.
“I always win, Jerlo. I don’t know why you keep fighting me. Just let go and let me in. I’ll be gentle, I promise.”
Vanya pushed up from the stool and her body divided leaving a human husk behind as a demon with purple horns stepped forth claws and fangs bared. Her skin was matte black like a three-dimensional shadow, and it drank in the glow of the orange lumir sticks lighting this poor excuse for a home. She turned a featureless face on Jerlo, and the bottomless pits of her eyeless orbs sucked him down toward unconsciousness and possession.
I’m God’s warrior, you bitch. Jerlo reached for the white light of God that he’d carried with him since before amnesia had taken his past. To that radiant thread, he clung and prayed. Lord, help me, please.
The false Hadrovel exploded in a shower of mist and spray as a dark blur barreled into her. She released Jerlo, and he swayed on rubbery legs until he’d dragged in enough air to satisfy his screaming body. Vanya leaped nimbly back into the discarded meat puppet rising to clothe her in flesh again. Jerlo shuddered and leaned against a wall. In a minute, he’d deal with Vanya. Right now, he just needed to breathe.
Nearby, Insect-Man wrestled Water Girl to the ground as the rest of her disguise dissolved into a puddle beneath them. Each time she tried to melt away, Insect Man’s grip tightened on her throat, and she solidified a second later. Water Girl snarled and raked his face with transparent claws sending dazed insects flying away from his body. Somehow Insect Man could keep her solid enough to tussle with. How long could he keep that up before he disintegrated?
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