by K T Munson
After a moment, twins flew up and landed on it, laying their heads down lovingly like it was a pillow.
“What is it you wish to know?” one said, petting the mushroom.
“We will tell you,” said the other as she, too, lay upon the mushroom’s top.
“Betrayer!” some of the other fairies called out, but they were ignored.
“What does the renounced demon, known as Mad Dog of the Nether, want?” Ki asked, remembering his face and his demonic sword.
“A guide,” one said.
“For his planet dweller,” the other one added as she leaned forward and inhaled deeply, smelling the mushroom.
“A guide to where?” Ki asked, clearly confused, wondering where the woman would need to go.
“Here,” one giggled as she sat up and touched the top of the mushroom with reverence.
Ki’s eyes went wide while the fairies continued to roll around and rub against the mushroom’s top, covering themselves with its scent. They already seemed half gone as they waited for his approval.
“It’s yours,” Ki said, releasing the fungus. They dug their fists into the sides and absconded with it. The other fairies hissed and cursed at them, but the two seemed to hardly notice as they moved to a dark corner to devour it. He only stayed long enough to see their jaws unhinge.
Turning back inside, Ki again walked past the old orc, who didn’t seem to notice him, and went back to the door. The chalk had vanished from the last use, so Ki closed the door behind him and pulled a small piece of chalk from his belt again. He began to write, his hand fast and sure as he marked wood. When it was done, he recited the incantation, which made the runes glow—an old spell his elders had taught him. Pushing the door open, he stepped out into the street.
“Whoa,” a voice said.
Ki turned and found a small boy staring at him in wonder. Ki closed the door with a sharp snap, patted the kid’s head, and then stepped out onto the stoop. He walked down a few steps before reaching the street. He didn’t like moving around in the day because it was harder to keep others from seeing him. This time, however, it was necessary; he couldn’t afford to let others offer their services to the demon.
It was strange that they called him the Mad Dog of the Nether. He was by no means a dog, and his old name, the Golden Demon, didn’t fit either. His skin was primarily black, though it did have a strange gold hue to it. Many claimed that when he’d had his horns, they had been dipped in gold. Others said that he had been adorned in gold armor and had fought with a golden sword that burned fire itself. Were it not for the fact that Ki had seen the sword, he might have doubted it. That sword had burned like fire, and the hilt had been golden.
Ki walked through the town, drawing some unwanted looks. This was a smaller city in Ashlad, unlike where he had first tried to save the last of his forty-two. The academy was in the heart of Hoziar, one of the largest cities in Ashlad. He hit the outer wall of the demon’s estate and continued walking along it. The flat paved sidewalk was strange under Ki’s boots, since Lyreane was behind in progress and had only cobblestone in the larger cities. Ashlad was the pinnacle of advancement.
When he reached the gate, he looked down the drive to the house. It stood as a foreboding fortress among the otherwise densely crowded buildings. Glancing around at the sprawling yards, he wondered if anyone knew what lay within those walls. He scanned the sidewalk. Everyone seemed to move about their days, unhindered by wonder and worry about this strange mansion. It took him a short time to realize that no one even looked at the house. From what the elders had told him, the gate kept away demons, but perhaps it also deterred prying eyes and curious mortals.
Crossing his legs under him, Ki sat down in front of the gate and waited, watching the facade of the house. Patience flowed through him as he sat like a statue. If the spirit dogs of the Nether were still guarding this place, it wouldn’t take long for him to be found. The sun streaked across the sky over him, soon leaning closer to night than day.
When the lamp lighter came to the gas street lanterns farther down the sidewalk, he gave Ki a strange stare but said nothing as he continued on with his duties. Out of the corner of his eye, Ki caught movement. The bulk of the large man moved toward the gates where Ki lingered, and it wasn’t long until a face appeared in lamp light on the road. It was hard not to glance up at the broken horns.
“If you are here when my daughter returns, I will kill you for no other reason than the pleasure of it,” he said, glaring.
“I am not here for your daughter,” Ki said carefully, not moving a muscle as the two spirit dogs appeared at the edge of the gate with their tails primed.
“Then why are you here?”
Ki uncurled his stiff legs and slowly stood to face the demon. “Your daughter is going into the Netherworld and will need a guide.”
“Where did you hear such a thing?” he demanded, giving away little with his static expression.
“Fairies,” Ki answered simply. “They are easily bought.”
“Only by those who know what to barter,” he said, his eyes narrowing. “What exactly are you proposing?”
“To act as her guide,” he answered plainly.
The demon laughed, and Ki waited. A moment passed, and the Mad Dog seemed to consider his options. He stood still, his fingers curled around the gate as he watched Ki. Their gazes met, and a small battle occurred there, a silent one, as the spirit dogs waited behind him for a word to strike.
Unexpectedly, the demon pushed the gate open and said gruffly, “You look hungry.”
Chapter 26: Ashlad
Elisabeth stared out at the rain as it pitter-pattered on the stone and tried to remember how she had gotten here. It was just earlier that week that she had presented her life’s work. Now she would be going not to another planet but into the Netherworld to find a lost princess. She held up the strand of string intertwined with the piece of the girl’s hair that she would use to find her. Nanette was only seventeen, and it broke Elisabeth’s heart to think about what the girl would have to face. It was fortunate that time in the Netherworld moved much slower than their own time.
All that remained was to locate a guide to take her through. She felt part fear and part wonder as she stared out and thought about going. In a way, the Netherworld was half of her heritage. Elisabeth had never wanted to have anything to do with her father, but she did wonder about that half of herself. The part she couldn’t get rid of. Even though fear had made her bury it deep inside, it was still there, waiting to get out.
Leaning closer to the window, she looked up at the sky and frowned at the dark clouds. Perhaps on this day the weather was attempting to reflect her dour mood. She worried that her papa would know her inner struggle and convince her to stay well away from the mess. After a long night in the lab with Milo and A.J., she had returned home and gone straight to bed. When she had first seen A.J., his spirit had been sharper and more vivid to her. It concerned her, and she had a feeling there was something happening that was greater than her uneasiness, which is why she was so determined to go. With a heavy sigh, she turned away from the window without dwelling further on her own dark thoughts.
There was a knock on the door. Before she could say anything, Milo pushed his way through the door with a tray of tea.
“How are you today?” Milo asked as he set the tray on the coffee table.
“Tired,” Elisabeth admitted as she came around to the loveseat. She had not been sleeping soundly and knew it would only become worse. An assassin hunted her, and she was going into the Netherworld.
Milo poured the tea. “Sugar?”
Elisabeth nodded. “And milk.”
There was a pause as he held out a teacup to her. He came around and sat down beside her. He took her free hand, and she could see the worry in his eyes. That she’d expected, but not the guilt.
“What is it?” Elisabeth asked, worried.
“I am sorry I could not protect you.” Milo’s voice was thick
with emotion.
“You were caught unaware,” Elisabeth set the teacup down so she could hold his hand in both of hers. “We all were. There was nothing you could have done. I am just happy you are safe.”
Milo kissed her forehead affectionately. At first he’d been a mentor to her as a child, but later he’d become more of a sibling, like a caring elder brother. Elisabeth wouldn’t have survived her childhood without him. He was family.
“I promise to always be on your side,” Milo reassured her, “like I always have been.”
Elisabeth blinked her eyes rapidly to keep the tears at bay. “I know.”
“Drink your tea before it gets cold. I’d better see to breakfast,” Milo said, patting her hand before leaving the room with the tray.
Sipping her tea, she read her book for a while, but her concentration was short lived. Holding the hardcover tightly to her chest, she left the room. She turned toward the dining room, assuming breakfast would have been prepared. She was finally ready to face her papa.
She paused at the door to gather her composure.
Elisabeth opened her mouth to say something and then stopped, frozen in shock. Her assassin was sitting at their breakfast table eating toast. A little pile of grain he had picked off of the bread was off to the side of the plate. He went to take another bite but paused when he saw her. Panic bubbled in her chest as her eyes shifted to Malthael.
“Elsa!” Malthael said with a smile and stood.
“Papa!” She fought down the hysteria rising in her chest, “What is this?”
“I’ve found you a guide,” her papa answered, and she nearly laughed. The only thing that stopped her was the look on his face.
“A word,” Elisabeth ground out between her teeth.
“Excuse me,” Malthael said as though speaking to an honored guest.
She held the door open, giving one final glance at the assassin as he began to pull grain off another piece of toast. Frowning, she pulled the door closed behind her. The bulk of Malthael turned with a hand up as though to ward away her protest and anger.
“Are you mad?” Elisabeth asked despite his elevated hand.
“He saved your life,” Malthael said, glancing around, “and the boy knows the Netherworld. I have been quizzing him all morning since I found him at our gate. Not to mention—”
“He is trying to kill me,” Elisabeth cut him off, “and you want me to trust him?”
“He has signed a blood oath,” Malthael reassured her. “He cannot harm you so long as he is guiding you through the Netherworld. You know what a blood oath is. You can go into the Nether protected from your assassin and by him. A reprieve of sorts. I thought it prudent.”
“Prudent?” Elisabeth jeered. “‘Prudent’ he says. I want a different guide. One that you didn’t invite in for tea after he tried to kill me.”
“Elsa.” Malthael put his hands on her shoulders to calm her. “The Det Mor Clan is hunting for him. Bring him to Morhaven with you and you can be free of him forever.”
Elisabeth stopped as reason took hold. “Oh.”
“It is the perfect solution,” Malthael explained.
Elisabeth swallowed as she realized her papa was leading her assassin into a trap. If she weren’t still angry, she would have acknowledged that Malthael had come up with a clever plan. He waited as she gathered her wits.
Elisabeth’s body sagged. “I don’t know, Papa. Isn’t it too risky?”
“Without a blood oath perhaps, but with one?” Malthael straightened his spine in confidence. “I believe we can take care of two birds with one arrow.”
“What if that is what he wants you to think and the Netherworld holds the secret to his success in killing me?” Elisabeth asked in a hushed rage.
“It does not,” said a voice suddenly. They both stopped to stare at the assassin, who stood in the slightly open door. She had not heard it open during their discussion. “I will find another way I assure you, but you will be stronger in the Netherworld.”
Elisabeth felt her blood run cold. “Stronger?” she asked with a heavy tongue.
“If I need to kill you, the last place I would take you was the Nether,” he said. “I am not demon born, so you will be harder to kill. You needn’t worry with a blood oath. If I even attack you with the intent to harm you, I die.”
“Why help me then?” she demanded, unable to hide her fear.
“If you go into the Nether without me, you will die. Nothing is what is seems. I have spent my life among the ruins and monsters,” he responded. Elisabeth nearly remarked he must feel right at home but instead ground her teeth in anger.
“Elisabeth,” Malthael said softly, “Nanette is running out of time. He is right—you will be stronger there, and with the oath you are protected.” Malthael glared at Ki. “If he tries anything, the pain that will be visited upon him will make death seem easy.”
Elisabeth remembered how helpless she had been when she’d nearly died and her assassin had saved her. He was capable, and she could use that. Use it and then lead him to his demise. Frowning, she realized she didn’t have much of a choice. If she denied him, he would wait here for her to return. At least if she took him with her, she had a chance to take care of him once and for all.
“Very well,” she finally said with a resigned sigh.
Chapter 27: Netherworld
Nanette awoke stiff and sore. She opened her eyes groggily and licked her dry lips. Rolling over slowly, she glanced at the entrance. The spider thing was gone, but there were deep grooves in the stone where it had been clawing its way in to try and reach her. Unwilling to move or do anything, she started to turn herself back toward the darkness of her shelter. Her leg burned where she had been cut, making her hiss in pain.
She pushed herself up just far enough to see the injury before moving to a larger part of her cave where the light came in from the entrance. When she touched her leg, she sucked in another painful breath at how tender it was. But the blood had dried, and a scab was already starting to form. She tried not to think about how disgusting it looked or what that thing might have left in the wound.
Realizing she couldn’t stay there, she started to pull herself toward the opening. She didn’t want to be there when the spider-creatures came back. She scanned the room. It appeared empty. She reached her fingers out and let the light dance over them. After a moment, she remembered the spiders hadn’t attacked until the light had faded.
Did they not like it? she wondered.
She had just started to pull herself out when she heard a clicking noise.
Nanette glanced to her right. There, in the doorway, where darkness pooled together, she saw movement. Moving faster, she stood and did her best to keep most of her weight off her injured leg as she wobbled along the rubble. The clicking intensified as the creature eagerly moved back and forth but didn’t dare enter the well-lit room.
She could make out other shapes in other entryways and moved away from them. As long as she stayed in the light, she was safe. Searching the sky, she wasn’t sure how much time had passed or how much longer until that inky blackness returned. She needed to find a way out.
Nanette stopped, realizing that she had no idea which direction to go. Glancing back at her safe place, she wondered if she could just go back and sleep. Yet in her heart she knew that if she went back, she would die. If she pushed forward, perhaps she could find a safe haven. There were whispers of them, magical places that were paradises in this red wasteland, places dark creatures couldn’t reach.
Continuing through the rubble, she whispered the names of her family to keep her safe. Her father was a Gate Guardian. She knew he would not abandon her. Nanette would not allow herself to think she would not survive. She just needed to survive long enough for her father to come. Somehow, she needed to find a way to contact him. She was nearly out of the ruins when she heard some rocks fall. She whirled around and her bad leg nearly gave way, but she was able to catch herself on a doorframe. Peering into th
e darkened doorways, she watched the shadows. Nothing moved, but she felt something watching her, hunting her.
Swallowing down her fear, she stepped out into the red light but felt nothing on her skin, not like their sun. This was a cold and unfeeling light. It only seemed to cast a red hue that made everything look dusty and covered in rust. Oh, how she prayed that she would live to feel the sun on her skin again!
She gave the pond area a wide berth, unwilling to meet that creature again, and made her way toward the exit out of the gardens. Moving along the wall, Nanette looked at her almost nonexistent shadow. The light seemed to be cast from every direction, as though the sky itself cast the light. Perhaps there wasn’t a single light source, or perhaps there were many. It was difficult to tell in this endless, cloudy red sky.
As she cleared the gate, some sort of flake dropped down slowly from the sky. Nanette thought for a moment it looked like snow. But it was too dark to be snow. Another one fell closer to her, and she put a hand out. When it landed, she rubbed it flat and looked at her fingers. They were covered in ash.
Above her the sky had opened up, and a thousand more gray flecks fell as far as the eye could see. If the ash continued coming down in such heavy sheets, she could be smothered by it. She moved faster, hoping to travel beyond the ash cloud. Her bad leg slowed her down though, and she felt the scab twist and tear with every step. The second wound on her leg was deeper and meaner and almost caused her to fall. When the wound finally tore, she ignored it, unwilling to slow down.
The ash became thicker as it covered her hair and clothes. It clung to her like snow, but it didn’t feel fresh or soft. A tear fell down her cheek as she looked at the ruined landscape. It was painful to remember home when the derelict version lay before her. Her legs began to move again despite her exhaustion, and the ash fall slowed. The road was broken in many places, and she had to go around massive holes and sharp inclines. Every once in a while, she saw things moving in the darkness of the buildings, and her fear kept her mobile, even when the pain doubled.