by J. P. Rice
“Very carefully,” I advised him. “Hopefully, I can get that Frosty Flute. If I can’t get the flute, I’ll try to find out some weaknesses to exploit. I’ll relay them to you. I’ve already talked to the Morrigan about keeping in contact through my Raven’s Eye.”
“Raven’s Eye?” he asked, confused. He started to attach the harness to the Sphinx’s body.
“Don’t worry about that. Just try to keep up, slim. If I find out any juicy tidbits, I’ll send it to the Morrigan and have her get the message to you. Same goes for the flute.” I deepened my voice and sparked a serious tone, “Don’t tell anyone, especially the Gods that I’m going. I can’t trust anyone, anymore.”
He turned to me and nodded. “I get that. I’m still trying to figure out if I should trust you.” He smirked.
“You shouldn’t,” I spoke through my evil laughter, “This business is savage.”
He shot me a leery look as I continued, “Enough joking around. Did you find a demon shelter?”
Mike nodded. “I did.” He dug his hand into his pants pocket and pulled out a scrap of paper. As he handed it to me, he said, “Here’s the address. It’s actually close to here. After you bring back the Harp, I’m going to shut that place down.”
“I agree completely. I’m just glad you haven’t done it yet.”
“I’m getting a list together right now,” he revealed. “The demon cult facilities will be closed soon. I promise you that.”
“Thanks for this,” I said, waving the piece of paper, then stuffed it into my pocket. “And don’t make any moves on those houses until I get back. It could raise the suspicion of the demons and put the operation in jeopardy.”
“Then you better hurry up,” Mike said snidely.
My blood began to boil and I went to look him in the eye to chew him out. I got even angrier when I noticed the smirk on his face. “Good one, blondie.”
“Blondie?” He stopped for a moment and rubbed his chin. “Thought it was Peach Fuzz?”
The kid could take a joke much better than most of the men I dealt with. I said, “You can be all those things. I’ve got plenty of nicknames for you, Pony Boy.”
“As much as I love a little verbal sparring,” Kovana hinted. “Let’s get this back on track. Are you almost done, Mike?”
“Yep,” he confirmed and rubbed his hands together for warmth. Then he grabbed the strap over Kovana’s left shoulder. “Just need to connect a few more spots. Couple more seconds and you will be ready for flight.”
With the harness attached, I slid into the sling on the underside of the Sphinx’s body. My head was right below her chest and I could see straight ahead, just like her. I felt Kovana’s heart racing against my back. She got excited to fly. Hell, so did I. I wasn’t looking forward to the weather, but all the rest should be a real hoot.
Mike opened the barn doors and the dull sunlight poured in. Kovana jogged outside, her body bouncing up and down, my face coming dangerously close to smashing into the ground. I didn’t really like our takeoffs either. I kind of forgot about this part.
Kovana sped up into a steady sprint. I covered my face with my hands. As the Sphinx went to take off, she crouched down, and the back of my gloves smashed into the solid ground. Her legs sprang up and we lifted off the ground, her wings beating rhythmically through the still winter day.
I’d learned the hard way to cover my face on our first flight. If the weather was better, we could enjoy a nice conversation. I envisioned this would be a silent trip. To be honest, I didn’t really need Goibniu’s elixir, I just wanted to hang out with Kovana.
Flying several hundred miles per hour in a sling under a mythical animal in the bitter cold was the most relaxing thing in my life right now. Kovana was the kind of friend where there weren’t any awkward silences. We just enjoyed each other’s company. Just being close to each other. She had been caged up for hundreds of years. I knew she enjoyed our long-distance trips.
As for me, I needed them. Girlfriends.
We flew for a while, the wind whipping against my ski mask, sneaking in the eyeholes, running down my face and hitting my neck. As we left Pittsburgh behind, I gazed at the white abyss spotted infrequently with faded brown patches.
“Holy shit. It’s them again,” Kovana cried out.
I lifted my eyes and saw two dragons dead ahead. The two beasts were screaming toward us, their mouths slightly agape, flames building in their throats. This didn’t seem good.
I called on my magic, but I wasn’t sure how much good it would do. Stowed away in this sling in heavy layers of clothing, I didn’t have much control over my body. Not to mention we were flying at a ridiculously high speed.
Undaunted, Kovana flew straight at the two obsidian dragons, which scared the shit out of me. She said, “Hold on tight. It’s about to get bumpy.”
Kovana dipped and did two barrel rolls. Swirls of black, cerulean and milky white danced in front of me as my eyes worked desperately to refocus. As my vision sharpened, a blast of orange flames raced toward us.
Kovana veered to the right, narrowly avoiding the flames. The fire disappeared into the afternoon sky. Were the dragons coming after me? Or had they seen Kovana flying around and wanted her for lunch? Either way, two enormous black dragons were chasing us through the sky.
I felt the Sphinx’s heart pumping, but it wasn’t fearful. She seemed excited. Two frosty paws landed on the sides of my head. One quick jerk and her efficient claws would shred my face. Then a warm softness surrounded my head. Like a heated blanket.
Staring straight ahead, the sky rippled, and the anomaly rammed into the black dragons. The fire-breathing beasts looked like they had been hit with a dump truck. The impact launched them backwards and their enormous bodies rotated head to tail.
As the dragons tried to fight against Kovana’s magic, she turned and darted in the opposite direction. I couldn’t turn around to see if the dragons were chasing us. I was forced to stare straight ahead and trust Kovana.
Thirty seconds later, her racing heart slowed down and she said, “Those are the two dragons that were transferred here with me from Sleepy Willow. We ended up in Mike’s backyard and had a staring contest for about a minute until they flew away. Maybe they are on my trail.”
“But why wouldn’t they just come back to the farm to get you?” I asked.
“Maybe they didn’t remember where it was. Considering I’m the only thing flying around Pittsburgh and food is slim right now, they might have been hungry. I’m surprised they haven’t left this area yet. They must have something of great value around here.”
“Yeah. Maybe,” I mumbled. I knew damn well why the dragons wouldn’t leave Pittsburgh. They wanted their eggs back. But I would never give up my babies. Those dragons would have to kill me to reclaim those eggs.
It did cause concern. If the dragons could track down their eggs, I wasn’t sure if Owen could protect them. He didn’t have magic like the Sphinx, who’d basically just bitch-slapped two dragons across the face. Like the Morrigan, I wouldn’t want to get into a brawl with Kovana.
Now I had to get some of the anti-aging juice and then go infiltrate a demon cult.
Chapter 8
Cult. Derived from the Latin adjective cultus, based on the verb colere (to cultivate).
Why did they work?
A cult normally started with a narcissistic leader who craved adulation. The leader often had charisma and used it to lure in new members. They searched for followers they could exert mind control over and used any leverage at their disposal.
The Nazis used the financial depression in Germany to gain support. A person had a choice between starving or joining the Nazis. Not a difficult decision. Hitler’s supporters murdered in cold blood for their leader.
Charles Manson used drugs and the social landscape of the sixties. His supporters murdered in cold blood for their leader.
Although Manson and Hitler used different methods, they also had many commonalities. They contro
lled the minds of their supporters through an indoctrination into the cult.
Because cults usually practiced socially deviant behavior, they found members who were down on their luck, or had been screwed over by ‘the man.’ If the cult leader could find someone sympathetic to his or her cause, he or she could mold that person into a rabid follower through excessive devotion.
The followers, normally social outcasts, were just happy to have a group to belong to. In return, they would do anything. Murder. Steal. Suicide. Whatever dear leader ordered.
The Red Cavern operated the same way. After King Bres was chased from a Celtic netherworld for bad behavior, he assembled a following of demons. He started by convincing the creatures of the otherworlds that they were being treated unfairly and he would take much better care of them if they joined his side.
It was how he’d created the Red Cavern. Now they used the same basic model with the humans. The demons took disillusioned people and offered them what they wanted. A chance to learn magic, even if it was from the dark arts and socially taboo. For some people, it was simply a chance to belong to something. Anything.
Satanic cults had been around for decades, so the Red Cavern knew there would be a ripe market for worshippers. They weren’t wrong. Disillusioned humans had flocked in droves to their cause. Now they had a human population in the Red Cavern that lived among the demons. I’d always thought it was in case the devils ever needed to do a prisoner swap or use the humans as hostages.
The bottom line was that cults worked. I’d seen it firsthand during my last stay at the demon underworld. And now, for some ludicrous reason, I was throwing myself into that fire again.
I looked in the mirror. A man with dark hair, a big nose and blue eyes stared back at me.
Dressed in a pair of jeans and a Steelers hoodie, he was a normal looking man. One that could go undetected. One that was ready to infiltrate the Red Cavern. Staring into the reflective glass, I studied every feature, so they were burned into my memory.
My eyes were a little wideset, allowing plenty of room for my wide honker. My blue eyes bordered on gray and contained a few flecks of silver. I had a lighter complexion with freckles and a scar under my right eye. The wide, bright white scar was about two inches long.
I smiled and checked out my yellowing teeth. A cult follower didn’t have time for brushing his teeth. He needed to focus on pleasing the master. I stared at my broad shoulders, sizing them up and searing the image into my mind.
Shifting for extended periods of time wasn’t difficult for me. But since the lava accident, I didn’t have complete confidence in my magic. The constant shapeshifting would cause me to age, which was my biggest worry. When I aged, I lost power. When I lost power, the magic controlled me more than the other way around.
It could work against me and change my appearance at exactly the wrong time. Keeping up with facial hair growth would be one of my main objectives.
Mike Merlino had come through and found a demon cult in a rural area just outside Pittsburgh. I had a long road ahead. This wouldn’t be a quick two-day process and it was killing me. Specifically, leaving my dragons was killing me. Now that I had seen one egg beating like a heart, it took all my strength to take this mission.
I was the only option for this task. Even with the Celtic Gods giving him endless resources, Mike couldn’t handle the job. That was why the Dagda had asked me to retrieve his Harp. Or was it? The best way to describe the trip would be a suicide mission.
Had the Dagda asked me because I was expendable? Because he didn’t want his precious Pony Boy to die? I slowed my racing heart, stopped staring at my new appearance and went back to packing a small backpack of necessities. I couldn’t let the fear in.
I went over my story again in my head. Thirty-two years old. Worked at a small coffee shop until it was squeezed out by corporate greed. Family ditched me when I was fifteen. Found a book on Dank Artistry and liked it. Talked to somebody in a bar one night and they told me about this place.
I don’t remember his name because I was blacked-out drunk. I just want to learn magic and I’m willing to do whatever it takes.
I’d met desperate people on my last visit and most of them were broken from life’s problems. They were looking for an escape from reality and learning dark magic provided that. From the demons’ viewpoint, they wanted to recruit humans with magical abilities. The leaders of the Red Cavern wanted to find humans who knew magic and bring them to their side instead of letting them get snatched up by some other entity.
Mike Merlino was the perfect example. I’d bet the demons wished they had gotten to Mike before the Celtic Gods. I had to show some magical prowess, but not enough to threaten them. That was what had gotten me killed last time. Someone—I still didn’t know who—had ratted me out and told the demons of my true power.
I had to flash a little skill, so they would take me to the Red Cavern, but not enough to get killed. Sounded simple, right? Unfortunately, controlling my magic wasn’t as easy as putting it on a leash. My dark blood did what it wanted, when it wanted, so this would be a true test. And I needed to stay in the form of a man and talk constantly in a deep voice.
Just thinking about it caused warm panic to spread throughout my body. No. No.
I started hyperventilating and my vision blurred. Heavy pressure felt like a vise grip on my brain and my ears rang. My balance failed and I went down to one knee momentarily before teetering over on my right side. I rested my fiery cheek on the chilly tiles and hoped it would cool down the rest of me.
It didn’t. My body felt locked in place as an image took form in my head.
I tried to ignore the bubbling burns festering on my forearms and escape the Red Cavern. My heart screamed at me to go back for my children, but my head reminded me of the harsh truth. Only a dragon could have survived being covered in lava. If I went back, the devils wouldn’t falter twice at killing me.
I couldn’t describe the pain because it was worse than anything I’d ever felt. Everything hurt. It was like a wave of agonizing radiation constantly moving around my insides. I tried my best to ignore it.
Staggering aimlessly down a dark underground tunnel, I didn’t know if I’d find an exit or the person who had tried to kill me. Fear seized my body and I walked mechanically. At the end of the hall, I found a door marked, Do Not Enter. I shoved myself through the door and landed in soft snow that sizzled against my burnt body and caused a combination of steam and smoke to plume from my body.
I looked around at white snow and ice as far as the eye could see. Bright colors appeared in my peripheral vision and I jerked my head to the left. A red rose growing from the snow captured my attention. Thoughts of my burns and children were tossed aside by this mesmerizing anomaly.
“Beautiful, is it not?” a gentle female voice commented.
I whirled around with my body about to fall apart, and my eyes landed on a virginal looking woman in all white. The blond woman wasn’t wearing a crown, but she had a regal quality. A frilly gown hung from her slender shoulders all the way down to her ankles. My heart skipped a beat as the crippling fear of the moment centered in my chest.
“What is it?” I asked, trying to keep my mind from what seemed like imminent death.
“Tis a winter rose, of course,” she said with her hands folded in front of her belly.
I said, “I know. But it has to be more than just that.”
“It is hope. What do you fear more than anything right now?” Her long eyelashes fluttered.
I thought for a moment and lowered my head. “I fear that my children are dead.”
“Do you think they are dead?” she asked, her voice growing firmer.
I nodded, tightlipped. “I don’t think they could have survived what we’ve been through.”
“Pity.” She turned her gaze upon the rose. “Do you think a rose should survive in this hostile environment?”
“No,” I answered.
“Anything. Is. Possible,�
� she whispered ominously.
“I need to get out of here. Do you know where we are?” I thought her heavenly presence would calm me down, but my heart still raced out of control. The gravity of the situation hit me again.
“I do.” Her folded hands rose in front of her chin and she steepled her fingers. “I can get you to your father’s house, if that is your desire.”
How did she know I wanted to go to my father’s? “Yes please,” I said as the pain running through me made me want to collapse into a ball. But then the demons would get me. I needed help. That wasn’t easy to admit.
I wondered why she wasn’t leading the way as a slow smile developed on her face. Her crooked front teeth took me by surprise.
“I thought you said you can take me to my father’s?” I asked.
“I can give you something you want.” She paused dramatically, letting the tension build, then whispered, “But I would like something too.”
“What do you want?” I asked. The pulse pounding fear caused me to look around frantically. A smooth oval of ice caught my reflection like a mirror. I almost passed out.
My skin was charred black and gray with uneven patches of bright white boils. I could see but my eyes appeared as black lumps of coal. I was hideous. Worse than Medusa. Hair and breasts gone. Was I even a woman anymore?
“My spirit needs a place to take up residence. I’m looking for a humble host.” Her voice was soft and gentle again. “If you are willing to be my vessel, I will get you to your father’s house in no time.”
This seemed like a shady deal, but what were my choices? Say no and die in the snow. Or allow this sweet looking woman to enter my body. What harm could she do? I tried to renegotiate. “Could you save my children instead?”
She lowered her head. “I cannot.” She lifted her blue eyes to meet mine. “I only have but one offer.”
I waffled for a few moments, then realized I didn’t have a choice. “Deal.”