Triumph Over Tragedy: an anthology for the victims of Hurricane Sandy

by R. T. Kaelin

  “I am Lady Amyssa d’Kant.” I left off the rest of my titles, my concession to the idea that I was no longer at home. “Why’s it good that you are the one who knocked me down?”

  “Call me Andrew. Let’s just say that banishing demons is something I’m familiar with, but I’m no expert,” he said. “Why don’t I take you to someone who might be able to answer your questions better than I can?”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Where are taking me?”

  “To see a friend of mine at St. Patrick’s Cathedral,” he said, taking my hand and tucking it into the crook of his elbow. I didn’t want to be rude by pulling away. I wanted some answers and it seemed he meant to help me get them. I’d put up with the over-familiarity for now.

  After some debate, I learned that his friend was a priest at the cathedral, and I relaxed. I’d talk to a holy person, as I’d been instructed to do. Surely a priest would be able to help me determine what had gone wrong with my magic. Maybe then I could see about tracking down the demon that had escaped the field of battle to jump through the portal ahead of me.

  * *** *

  We entered the cathedral, and Andrew asked me to have a seat while he went looking for someone. He had me sit down on a bench where I had a close view of the altar.

  The cathedral was magnificent, with stonework and arches like I’d never seen before. The cathedrals in my world were not ornate and decorative; I was used to dark cavernous rooms with candles illuminating only where priests needed the light to conduct services. I’d long wanted to add to the glory of the dark rooms where we’d worshiped, but we had to be careful not to draw too much attention. The war against the demons had been going on most of my lifetime, so I didn’t know if our places of worship had always been so dark and hidden before we’d gone into hiding or if they’d once been like this, opulent and wonderful and beautiful to see.

  Here, there were many candles lined up on shelves. I had to admit that it was an awe-inspiring sight; a wonderfully reverent and opulent setting to pay homage to whatever deity claimed this place. I was impressed.

  “Can I help you?” A gentle voice asked.

  I turned to find another man had come up behind me, sitting on the bench and leaning forward. He was wearing strange clothing; different from anything I’d seen so far in this world. His shirt was black, with a strange white collar, but he smiled, and seemed genuinely concerned.

  “I’m waiting for someone.” I wasn’t sure if my mission was something I should talk about considering the officer’s reaction to demons and his mention of mental institutions.

  “Ah, you’re the young lady who came in with Andrew. I’m Father Gregory,” he said, extending one hand toward me.

  It must be common here to refer to people by their given names. It seemed disrespectful and rude. This must be the holy person that Officer James, er, Andrew, had brought me to see. “I am Lady Amyssa d’Kant. Are you the one who knows about banishing demons?”

  He glanced around. “I do know something of banishing demons, but it isn’t something people talk about.”

  Maybe I’d been right to be cautious. “Do you mean that people don’t know about demons?” I asked. “How can they fight something they don’t know about?”

  “They either don’t know, or are willfully blind to the possibility that something exists outside of their understanding,” he said, with a smirk. “Those of us who believe do what we can, but demons are crafty enough, or maybe just lucky enough, to maintain a low profile. Human beings just don’t want to believe in things that go bump in the night, much less anything else.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He leaned forward and shrugged. “Well, people don’t even want to come to church. We have a hard time getting them to believe in God. If we scare them with all the things that are out there, they may never turn to us for help. We run the risk of sounding like fear-mongers, of using scare tactics to get people into church.”

  I smiled. Some things didn’t change all that much, no matter what world I was in. “If you scare people into believing, you think they won’t continue to believe once the danger is over?”

  “Well, that’s another reason. Did you tell Andrew that you were trying to stop a demon?”

  I heard a banging noise outside. The sanctuary was big enough that small noises could be amplified and echoed inside. I ignored it for the time being. “Yes. I followed a demon here from my own dimension. Our people were being decimated by demons, and many of them hopped into other worlds when the final battle was over. We’d thought that we won, but then we realized that the only way to keep our people safe was to hunt the demons down.” I was definitely giving him the short version. There was just too much detail, and I didn’t know how to explain it.

  Father Gregory seemed to understand, because he didn’t ask for more. “It’s an act of courage to jump into the unknown to save others. Did you know where you were going?”

  “No.”

  “That is brave.” He stood up, extending one hand to help me up from the bench. We walked toward the doors at the back of the sanctuary that I’d come in just minutes before. “You’re a magic-user?”

  Better to ask a few background questions first. “Your religion allows for the use of magic?” I asked. One of our archivists had warned me that some religions frowned on magic, and could become violent towards those they perceived as evil.

  “Not officially; the church hasn’t taken an actual position on magic or demons. I believe there are different approaches to solving a problem, and ignoring a potential solution doesn’t help anyone. How do you use magic? Is it just for fighting demons, as Andrew talked about, or are there other uses?”

  I didn’t get to answer his question, as Andrew came bursting back in. The candle flames whooshed into sudden spikes of red, quadrupling in length. Father Gregory explained it was a sign of danger, rigged to alert him to the presence of demons, as Andrew ran toward us.

  “We have a situation,” he said, as he removed a small black square from his ear. “We’ve got to go.”

  * *** *

  We followed Andrew outside into the moonlight. Or maybe it was the light from the poles lining the street. Either way, we could see well despite the fact that it had to be getting late. Andrew pointed at a metal contraption sitting in front of the church.

  “Get in,” he said. “We’ve got to get to Central Park in a hurry.”

  I wasn’t exactly thrilled to be getting inside a metal contraption that was making strange noises, but I didn’t think I had a choice. I did what he asked. Of course, he had to show me where and how to get in, by opening a door and pointing to a seat inside. Andrew and Father Gregory got into the front seat, which was separated from where I was sitting by a metal cage. I started to ask why, when we took off, fast.

  Andrew did something with the controls, and I heard a loud screaming noise, wailing and undulating. There had to be lights as well; I could see the reflection of the red and blue on the buildings we passed, and it did nothing to make me feel less queasy. I did see other metal boxes on wheels that stopped or pulled to the side of the road to let us pass. He pulled up in front of one of the tallest buildings I’d ever seen, and we screeched to a halt. Of course, we could have passed taller buildings on the way, but I hadn’t been looking. I’d been too busy trying not to be sick all over my skirt.

  He let me out of the back, and I heard screams. “Where are we?” I asked.

  “In front of the Plaza Hotel,” Andrew said, opening a compartment in the back of the metal wagon that had brought us here, and taking out a strange bulky vest. He strapped it on, using some kind of fastener that didn’t use buttons or ties, but stuck the fabric together. He also unsnapped a weapon from his side. I assumed it was a version of a hand-held crossbow, but I didn’t see the bolts. As much as I would have liked to ask about his equipment, we did not have time for me to be curious.

  “What’s going on?” was more to the point, so I asked.

  “There’s a demon
that’s been spotted at the Pulitzer Fountain, just across from the hotel in Central Park. I don’t see it, but it’s causing panic. It’s got to be the demon you’re chasing. Most of the demons we see don’t make public appearances. They stay hidden. That’s why it’s got to be your demon; it’s not even trying to hide. Or maybe we’ve just been lucky so far,” he said, heading in the direction people were running from.

  I agreed and followed, running into the park. “I don’t know which demon came through. Several demons jumped through different dimensions. It could be any one of them. Do you know how to stop it? And do other people know what to do when they see it?”

  Father Gregory was huffing behind us, clearly not used to running, but keeping up. “Most of them. Don’t know. What to do. Besides. Run.” He panted. “Many have never seen a demon. Don’t believe. They. Exist.”

  I wasn’t having a problem keeping up with Andrew as we ran through a lush green setting he’d called Central Park. I saw signs, pointing us toward something called the Pulitzer Fountain, and was glad they were in my own language, learned from the priest in my own place and time. My only problem was the skirt, but I was used to the extra material flapping around my legs. I would not have noticed except for the constant catching on branches and twigs.

  Finally, I saw it. And I knew what it was.

  * *** *

  I’d seen the demon before, as it ran from the battleground where so many of my friends had fallen. I knew the demon as a follower of an upper level demon prince, a lover of chaos and violence. It had come from my dimension. Andrew had been right.

  I normally used metal links to bind demons and magic to banish them, but it was a shape shifter, and unlike most of its colleagues, did not prefer a shape similar to that of a human. My normal tactics would not work; it could slip right out by switching shapes to escape whatever trap I laid for it.

  It preferred to appear as a centaur, a half-man-half-horse, with black wings. Each feathered wing was as long as a full-grown man, giving it the appearance of a dark avenging angel on horseback until it got close enough for one to realize that the angel wasn’t there to spread goodness and light.

  And I was running right toward it. That didn’t say much for my survival instinct.

  The demon was terrorizing a group of people. Two of them were bleeding. One had a black eye. I had to do something.

  “Asmodious, your dispute is with me,” I yelled. “Leave these others alone and come after someone who can fight back!” Never mind that I wasn’t quite sure if I could…if nothing else, it would lead him away from the people he was torturing.

  It smiled a creepy leer as it blew a breath of magic on the humans it had been hurting. They instantly began to fight each other, pummeling and kicking and punching. This was its signature move, creating chaos with its breath. I knew I’d never be able to calm down the humans and go after it at the same time, but its ability to use its charms on them gave me hope that my own magic would work.

  “Lady Amyssa d’Kant? Why would they send a woman to fight me? You have not sufficient power to hold me and slay me at the same time. Instead, you will die. And I will return to finish what I have started in your time and place.”

  Asmodious ran straight at me. Father Gregory yelled, “Run toward the fountain!”

  I didn’t see a fountain and said so.

  “Follow me,” Andrew called, leaping over a fallen branch.

  It sounded like they had some kind of a plan. I hoped it would work.

  We ran across a road, and under trees, ducking branches and dodging leaves. There was no path, just a blind run, as I tried to keep Andrew in sight in the dark quiet of the night. The only sounds I heard had to be from Asmodious and the fighting humans; I saw no other animals or metal demon trucks.

  We finally came to an open area, and I saw a giant fountain with an angel at the top. I wondered if there was some significance; it was the biggest fountain I’d ever seen. It made no sense for there to be a fountain, either—I could see a lake nearby, so it couldn’t be there for locals to get water for their homes. The fountain was surrounded by stone, which created a walkway much like the marketplace where I used to buy household goods on Market Day.

  I ran right at it. Father Gregory and Andrew ran with me.

  Andrew pointed Father Gregory to the far side of the fountain, and they had a heated discussion about what to do next. I overheard them yelling about blessing the water, and I had no idea what that meant. All I knew was that my magic could keep Asmodious from taking flight. I had to get it in the fountain and hold the demon there long enough for Andrew and Father Gregory to do whatever they were planning.

  Asmodious came crashing through the woods, knocking down limbs and branches as it went. It would have beaten us here, but it had tried to fly below the trees to keep from losing us, and its wings had gotten in the way. They were torn and bloody from snagging on twigs and branches. I doubt it’d gotten more than a few feet off the ground. A few feathers dropped from its dark wings as it came toward us, blood oozing from its wounds.

  I jumped straight into the fountain. Father Gregory was yelling something at me, but I knew I had to get Asmodious to follow me into the water. I sloshed my way to the middle, ducked around the pedestal holding the angel statue in the middle. When I got to the statue, I stuck my tongue out at the demon chasing me, like a small child taunting a bully.

  “Lady Amyssa, you will not win this round!” Asmodious bellowed, crashing its way after me. I could see that its injuries from the woods were worse than I’d thought; one wing wasn’t stretching as far out as the other. The pain and the blood should keep it from shifting shape long enough for our plan to work. At least I hoped so.

  It hit the water with a loud splash, hooves kicking up water as it flung itself in my direction. It gathered in a deep breath, and I could feel it gathering magic to cast at me.

  I ran for the opposite edge of the water, hopped up on the stone edge of the fountain, out of the water, and reached deep for magic.

  I realized that Andrew must have been right; a truck was not a demon. My magic only worked on demons, and it was flowing now. I felt the familiar energy rise up from the lowest pit of my stomach and flow through my body. It channeled through my arms, spreading out as it left my fingers and settling over Asmodious like a fishing net cast over water.

  It struggled, my magical net holding it in place in the water, its wings fighting and straining against the magic. Even wounded as it was, it took real effort on my part to keep it pinned in the water. “Whatever you’re going to do, do it NOW!” I screamed, sweat beading on my forehead.

  Andrew yelled something and ran off toward the angry people that had followed Asmodious through the woods. He pointed his weapon, yelling for them to halt. They ignored him, and the first one raised a fist. Andrew pulled a long stick out of his belt and defended himself, but there were several of them joining in, and he soon was on the ground under a pile of angry bodies, all hitting and kicking him.

  Father Gregory made some hand motions in front of his chest and began chanting. It didn’t sound like the same language we’d been speaking in, but then again, I remembered that the priests in my own dimension spoke another language for formal ceremonies. He kept chanting and I felt a strange heat rising off the water. I had the random thought that he’d blessed the water, and was glad I was no longer standing in it since I didn’t know their religion. I didn’t know if that was mandatory, but I didn’t want to find out by accident.

  Asmodious was thrashing against my magic, screaming. I noticed that the water was burning its feet. I saw smoke rising as it ate through his flesh, and I fought to hold him. His wings flapped hard, but I held on, my hands shaking.

  Wetness fell from my nose, but I couldn’t stop to wipe it away. If I distracted the flow of magic from my hands, I’d lose control of the force holding the demon in the water bubbling and boiling and burning his legs. He began to melt into the water, dissolving with shrieks and screams and hig
h pitched wailing. I felt light-headed, but held on with everything I had, realizing that the drip from my nose was actually blood splattering onto the front of my bodice.

  As Asmodious slowly disintegrated into the roiling water of the fountain, I lost consciousness and toppled over.

  * *** *

  I woke up to Father Gregory holding my hand, and Andrew slapping my cheeks, bringing me out of the faint I must have fallen into. I’d never overdone the use of magic this badly, not even at the final test I faced at twelve summers to officially become a caster. An ache in the head was the worst side effect I’d had then, and that had been thirteen years ago.

  “Up you go,” Andrew said, as he helped me to a sitting position.

  The world spun a bit. “Is it gone?”

  “We got it,” he grinned, through a split lip. I also noticed that he had a black eye.

  Father Gregory was leaning against the fountain, looking into the water, as it purified itself. I realized that the water was cycling through the fountain over and over, cleaning itself and purging the leftover demon bits as it did so.

  “Is there something special about that fountain?” I asked. Maybe there was something there to learn from, something I could use in the future.

  Father Gregory glanced at me over his shoulder. “It’s the Angel of the Waters Fountain, in honor of the waters at Bethesda, where an angel blessed a pool and gave it healing powers. Our city built a fountain here and named this area Bethesda Terrace, to commemorate the building of an aqueduct bringing clean water into our city.” He stood and straightened his back, groaning as he stretched. “There’s also the added bonus of being big enough. Some of the other fountains aren’t large enough for a demon that big. What did you say its name was, again?”