Axes and Angels: A Snarky Urban Fantasy Novel (Better Demons Series Book 1)

by Matthew Herrmann

  “Trippy,” Lucy said.

  “Trippy?” I said. That didn’t even come close to describing the cold feeling spasming through my muscles. Mostly because I’d just noticed the two Ken doll-sized skeletons sitting on Skeleton Theo’s shoulders and the tiny Barbie-sized skeleton clutching at one of the Lucy skeleton’s ribs.

  “Are we really that small?” Garfunkel asked in morbid curiosity.

  I felt a thump on my right shoulder—Simon passing out—and I tucked him safely inside his shoulder pad. When I glanced back up at the tunnel, Lucy was already standing next to her skeletal twin, inspecting the shape and construction of its bones. I feared she’d violently snap an arm off or something but so far she hadn’t even touched her skeleton yet. I guess she had some iota of sense in her …

  And then she formed a fist and rapped softly on her skeleton’s skull. It echoed hollowly in the confines of the mine. Right. Sense.

  I sighed. “That rules out the idea that we’re dreaming them.”

  “Dreaming?” Lucy asked, lifting one of Skeleton Lucy’s arms and checking its range of motion, a feat which shouldn’t have been possible: our skeletal twins had no muscles or tissue or cartilage to hold them together.

  I sighed. “Let’s just say I’ve experienced some strange things over the past few days. Nightmare tomes, Minotaur labyrinth fog … need I go on? There’s ways of making people see things that aren’t there.”

  “Of course these dwarven constructs are real,” Daryl said as if taking a personal offense to my existence.

  “And what is their purpose?” I asked.

  He patted his skeleton’s shoulder, sending some dust into the air. “They have the grand and noble purpose to, ahem, prevent us from leaving this way.”

  I studied Skeleton Theo’s bald head. At least I had better hair than her. “And how will they try to prevent us from leaving?” I asked.

  Daryl shrugged academically. “Meh. Probably strangle us in the dark or rip out our exposed necks with their bony fingers …”

  “I kind of like mine,” Lucy said. “I think I’ll drag her up with us to the surface after we recover the artifact. Name her Lucy II.”

  I slapped my forehead. “What? And strap them to the roof, National Lampoon’s Vacation style?”

  Lucy shook her head. “No, Lucy II will easily fit in the back seat. It’s a hatchback, remember?”

  “I don’t think—” I started to say but then a soft glow of pale light flickered farther down the dark tunnel on the other side of the skeleton guardians.

  “That’s a will-o’-the-wisp. Come on,” Lucy said, carefully lifting her skeleton and setting it beside the Theo and Daryl skeletons to allow us passage.

  I stepped gingerly past our skeletons, almost certain I heard their bony joints creaking as our flashlights left them to stand guard in the darkness behind us …

  Will-o’-the-wisps weren’t uncommon in my profession. Following them came with a precaution though: they either led souls to a great treasure or a great death, oftentimes both.

  Oh well, we’d gone too far to turn back. As we followed the bobbing glowing orb, I thought of the saying Orion and I shared when we found ourselves in deep on a job.

  In for a penny …

  We followed the silent, pale glowing will-o’-the-wisp for what seemed like five minutes. All the while, I kept thinking that I heard the sound of bony footsteps behind us but I couldn’t bring myself to turn and look; neither Lucy nor Daryl seemed concerned.

  Eventually, I steeled myself and jump-turned a 180, shining my flashlight directly behind us. The beam of my flashlight reflected back at us from the hollowed-out eye sockets of the four skeletons trailing our wake in the pitch-black darkness.

  Simon gasped, probably having woke up and seen the miniature Simon and Garfunkel skeletons frozen mid-stride on the ground next to the Theo, Lucy and Daryl skeletons.

  “Skeleton Theo seems cool,” Garfunkel said as if commenting on the dampness of the air. “Can I sit on her shoulder?”

  I could be wrong, but I thought I saw my skeleton’s jaw twitch in mock imitation of a grin. Moments later, all the skeletons crossed their bony arms across their chests as if in disappointment.

  A sense of dread tickled my stomach. For some reason, I had a feeling it would be much more difficult getting past them on the way out than on the way down, especially after Daryl’s chilling commentary.

  Lucy and Daryl turned back to face me. Daryl shook his head chastisingly. “Don’t show fear,” he said.

  “Yeah,” Lucy said.

  “Gonna gobble you up …” said my dad’s voice in my head.

  I tugged at the collar of my shirt and fluffed Orion’s oversized spare leather jacket resting on my shoulders to ward off the spreading internal cold. Then I followed Lucy and Daryl with a quickened pace until our will-o’-the-wisp guide disappeared around a bend in the underground tunnel.

  We hurried up but the glowing creature was nowhere to be seen. Instead, we came to a solid-looking oaken door with an inscription carved in banded iron across the front. This writing, however, was in English:

  Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.

  “Now we’re talking,” Garfunkel said hungrily. “This might actually be the threshold to Hell.”

  Great, I thought. Hell. It’s not like it could be any worse than fighting to survive in Typhon’s Arena. Because that’s where Orion would soon be if we didn’t recover this artifact.

  I reached out and grabbed the heavy iron ring serving in place of a door knob. Turning to Lucy, I said, “Help me?”

  Lucy flashed her light behind us, revealing our skeletal doppelgangers frozen in a tiptoe stance just behind us, their arms, extended in front of them, their fingers fixed into claws.

  Then Lucy stepped up to the door and together we pulled open the door.

  Behind us, Daryl gasped in awe.

  “Princess of Persia”

  I guess I was expecting a treasure vault. What we found was a … trap room.

  Torches sprang to life as if triggered by the opening of the door, and the floor stretched out before us like a wide, cavernous banquet hall, separated by grid sections of various automated contraptions and wickedly sharp devices intended for killing. Iron-tipped pikes thrust upward through polka-dotted iron grates on the floor in an unpredictable fashion in the far-left section. In the middle section, massive upside-down double-headed battle axes swung like crisscrossing pendulums at various heights. Barbed razor wire stretched out along the far-right section in a twisted 3-D maze supported by vertical iron beams.

  Whew. And that was only the first segment of traps. Beyond it was a spike pit with monkey bars extending over it and on the other side of it, a door guarded by stone dragons spewing flames.

  “Uh, Theo, this doesn’t look too safe,” Simon said. “And you’re not exactly up to date on your Tetanus shot.”

  Garfunkel crossed his arms. “Oh, come on. What’s the worst that could happen to her?”

  Simon held up a hand and began to tick off the scenarios. “Decapitation. Maiming. Pierced lung. Third degree burns. Tinnitus—”

  Garfunkel laughed. “That kind of stuff doesn’t happen to Theo.”

  “Yikes,” Lucy said, surveying the clanging traps before us. “Who do you think built all this? And why?”

  “Dwarves of course,” Daryl cut in. “And isn’t it obvious?” he said, rubbing his palms together. “Treasure!”

  “Must be quite the treasure vault,” I said. “I’ve never seen automated traps this sophisticated outside of TV and movies.”

  Daryl tucked his arms proudly over his chest and turned to me. “Pretty good setup, eh? The digital visual arts have inspired some quite impressive designs in this GoneGod World. We dwarves like pushing the boundaries, if you know what I mean.”

  “Theo, there’s still time to turn back,” Simon reminded me.

  I turned and the heavy door closed behind us automatically, confining the skeletons to the tunnel outs
ide. Lucy slapped a hand on my shoulder. “Well, you ready?”

  “Ready?” I asked.

  “To do your thing. To get the treasure.” Her words were hyped up with caffeine and adrenaline.

  Ordinarily, I’d share her excitement when presented with a challenge such as this but my weary body was betraying me. I yawned, wishing I’d brought some coffee. As if sensing my thoughts, Lucy drew out a thermos from her duffel bag and handed it to me. I took a few sips; it wasn’t so bad—much better than anything I’d ever brewed in my French press. I’d have to ask Clio for her secret after this was all over.

  I popped my shoulders and neck, intertwined and flexed my fingers, stretched out my hips and thigh flexors, did some toe touches …

  Daryl watched with a grin. Lucy cleared her throat. “Any day now,” she said.

  My body felt more limber now, anticipation and adrenaline beginning to flood my body. Despite being used by Lucy and company to navigate the traps, it felt good to be in the field, doing what I love.

  I turned to Lucy. “You know my routine.”

  She must have seen the energy in my eyes because she said, “You really are crazy, Theo. This isn’t like the fake crap on those Illinois Jones movies you made me watch.”

  “Indiana Jones,” I corrected. “And you’re right—this is much better.”

  “Ahh, fine dwarven construction,” Daryl mused.

  Lucy bent and picked up a stone; she tossed it into the left partition in the first section of traps. There was a glint as the rock was popped up like a volleyball from a group of iron-tipped pikes. It landed farther down upon the metal grating where another pike kicked it up. This went on until the rock was chipped to dust.

  “Don’t care,” Lucy said impatiently. “You think you can find a way through?”

  “Don’t insult me,” I said, retying my shoestrings as I surveyed the course.

  Lucy cocked a hip and studied me with arms akimbo. “Well …?”

  “I’m thinking.” Truth be told, I wished Orion was here. There was a reason he was known to some as “The Pathfinder.” There had to be a path of safe—or relatively safe—passage somewhere in this obstacle course of death. It was just a matter of locating it. But for the life of me, I couldn’t see it. The longer I stood studying it, I started to feel sleepy again, lulled by the hypnotic shifting and clanging of the thrusting pikes in the left section, the swinging axe battle axe blades in the center section and the cat’s cradle mess of razor wire in the right section.

  Lucy stepped forward and inspected the razor wire, drawing blood from one of her fingertips. “Too bad we don’t have a tank or a jetpack.” She sucked the cut on her finger. “Bet the builders never thought of that. Or some grenades—that might work …”

  “That would actually not work,” Daryl said. “We dwarves build to kill. And we think of everything. Any physical disruption of the course will undoubtedly collapse the entire ceiling upon our heads.” He smirked, showing off surprisingly shiny teeth (seems Gan wasn’t the only Other using white strips).

  “Clio, can’t you magically find a safe path?” I asked. The pixie shook her head. “What about sneak under the razor wire and pull the lever on the other side?”

  Daryl chuckled. “The pixie isn’t big enough to pull the lever.”

  I stared at him. “Well don’t you know some dwarven trick or hack to get through?”

  He laughed again. “This majestic dwarven masterpiece of a trap system wasn’t, ahem, designed for magical Others to beat. In fact, if Clio or I try to cross the threshold of the first trap before you disable them all via the final lever, the warding here may cause the ceiling to—”

  “Collapse,” I said. “Yada, yada, etcetera … Yeah I get it. It’s got to be me.” I turned to my right shoulder. “Simon, you think you and Garfunkel will set off the uh, magic detectors?”

  He scratched his tiny chin. “As long as we don’t burn any time, I think we should be good.” Nibbling at his fingernails, he quickly added, “But maybe we should try to find another way out?”

  I glanced at Lucy. “Don’t look at me,” she said.

  “But you can move like a ninja,” I said.

  “But I’m also bigger than you, and I’d like to keep all my appendages. Besides, I found the place—”

  Clio and Daryl cleared their throats.

  “—with the help of my associates,” Lucy continued. “You’re the trap girl. So … go on.” She made a shooing gesture at the course.

  Great. I’d have to do this solo and without the magical aid of my familiars. This day just keeps getting better and better.

  I turned to my left shoulder for any last second advice.

  “Good luck?” Garfunkel offered.

  And that’s when I saw it. The tiniest of crawlspaces between the pendulum axe section and the razor tripwire section. If I kept low and didn’t jump at the whooshing slices of the axe blades swinging at me from the side and above. It would be close, but I was 90% certain I’d be able to make it through without bleeding to death or getting cut in two.

  Which was good because it meant I got to tackle the second section—the pit.

  I decided to go with it and flashed Lucy a wicked smile. “You coming?”

  She shook her head. “It’s all you, Theo. Traps always were your favorite part of any heist. Me? I’ll just wait until you pull those innocuous-looking levers on the other side.”

  “Fine by me,” I said, starting my focus breaths to prepare me for the journey, my goal, the iron door at the end of the final section, and the treasure room beyond …

  “Mouse Trap Is My Favorite (Board) Game”

  “Theo,” Lucy said right before I started.

  I turned back to face her, my shirt tucked-in and my hair pinned in a military bun against the nape of my neck so that neither would inadvertently get caught by the flying blades.

  “Be careful.”

  “Thanks,” I said, unsure if she was being genuine or not. Then I tucked my head and crawled forward on my forearms and knees. I didn’t have to slither on my chest just yet—the swinging blades were too high here to be a danger, and I didn’t have to crawl too close to the tangled mess of razor wire directly to my right.

  I was nearly halfway through my selected course when I realized that maybe I wouldn’t be able to fit through the invisible pathway ahead—the axe blades there seemed to be closer to the ground than I’d thought. Maybe it would’ve been easier to opt for the immobile razor wire mess.

  A few glances over at it didn’t make it seem so bad, just a series of barbed wire to crawl over or under or slip through. But by now, it was too late to turn back from my current impromptu-in-between course. I didn’t trust myself to back out with the axe blades slashing so close to my legs. I couldn’t afford to spare a look or they might lob off my head (which would not be a good look on me).

  And was it just me or did the blades sound like they were getting closer? It sounded like I was trapped on a giant cutting board, the axes chopping and slicing at my rubber-soled heels.

  I increased my speed and heard a soft snick! and felt a tiny sting on my upper arm.

  “Might want to drop it low, Sleepy Hollow,” Garfunkel said, his voice in awe as if mesmerized by the swinging of the blades as he hung his head out the side of his shoulder pad like a dog hanging its head out a car window.

  I sank to my chest, inching forward like a worm. The blades sounded even closer now, and I wanted to shout for Lucy to confirm if the blades were actually very slowly working their way toward me or if it was in my head but I guess I didn’t really want to know.

  I kept inching forward until I reached a spot where—yep, you guessed it—I knew I’d be cut if I went any farther. I was stuck.

  But how had I misjudged so badly? There had clearly been a safe albeit very small pathway.

  The problem wasn’t exactly the two axes swinging in slow hypnotic intervals directly in front of me but the axes swishing just inches over my back. If those p
esky things were just a few inches higher, I’d be able to explode forward like a track runner at a starting block. And since I couldn’t currently move forward, I feared I’d be split in half from above within a minute or two.

  “Theo, you better hurry,” Lucy called out from behind me (in the safety zone). “The blades are getting closer. You’re going to be eviscerated if you don’t do something quick!”

  I definitely registered true concern in her voice now. Made sense—I was her ticket to the artifact. Without me, she was nothing. Of course if I didn’t do something and fast, so was I.

  With slow carefulness I pressed my right cheek into the ground to see for myself the axe blades working their way toward my prone body in painfully slow increments. I angled my eyes to the lever not ten feet away. So close, but unless I could shapeshift into a mouse, there was no way I was fitting through.

  No, I couldn’t fit, but … I lowered my gaze back to my left shoulder and Garfunkel’s anxious face peering back at me. “You thinking what I’m thinking?” I asked.

  “Put me in, Coach!”

  I tilted my eyes back along the course leading to the lever as he climbed out of my shoulder pad and dove to the floor beside my face to avoid the swing of the nearest axe blade.

  “Hurry!” I gasped as my shoe shuddered to the side with the impact of a blade nicking the sole.

  Garfunkel gave me a thumbs up and made a dash for it, braking on his tiny heels and pulling to a stop as the first axe swished directly in front of him. He turned and flashed me a grin and dove forward like Micky Mouse, landing on the other side just as the axe blade came back his way.

  “Easy peasy!” Garfunkel said. And that’s when he got careless.

  He may have been tiny, and too low for the higher axes to be a threat to him, but he had inadvertently strayed too far to the left, and a blade came right at him, about to cross-section him as if he were a fly in its path.