Booke of the Hidden

by Jeri Westerson

  “I don’t need it.”

  “But I do. Please. Turn it on.”

  “Very well.” It clicked and a beam of light strafed across the mouth of the cave. And then touched on something shiny right outside of it. I hadn’t noticed it in the forest shadows but there, leaning against the rock face, was a mountain bike.

  “Crap,” I said. “Someone went into the cave.”

  Erasmus regarded it mildly. “What will you do?”

  “Go in. We have to. The bicyclist doesn’t know what he’s getting into.” I tightened my grip on the crossbow and walked in. Immediately the air felt colder, wetter. It smelled of damp stone. The floor was powdery and kicked up as I walked. My heart was hammering and my breath came quicker. I surveyed the cave at the end of the flashlight beam and down the bead of my crossbow, not daring to neglect the ceiling. I remembered how the succubus scrambled up my own ceiling like a spider.

  I walked carefully. This time, the element of surprise seemed important. Last time I gave her too much warning, and the ache in my shoulder attested to the wisdom of that.

  I cast a worried glance at Erasmus. How far into the cave should we go? It was already giving me big-time creeps. It didn’t take many steps for the gloom to surround us. I looked back and saw the entrance, a white strip on a black background. It was farther away than I thought. Another few steps around the corner and we’d be plunged into darkness.

  We walked farther and the cave curved, narrowed, before the entrance was lost. Lit by the flashlight’s beam, the walls were rugged plains of rock with dry stalactites dipping toward us from the ceiling like fangs.

  Erasmus suddenly switched off the light.

  I gasped. “Why’d you do that?”

  “Listen,” he said, close to my ear.

  I did. Snuffling and a dragging sound. Something was definitely in there with us. “Can you smell it?” I said as quietly as I could. I wanted to grab his arm, to know he was there. The blackness was complete. I literally could not see a thing. But I kept the crossbow at the ready anyway, uselessly straining my eyes wide, listening to Erasmus and anything else that might be nearby.

  “Yes,” he breathed.

  I didn’t dare ask more. I shuffled in the dirt, sliding my foot forward, trying to avoid any rocky outcroppings. The last thing I needed was to trip. I shallowed my breathing and listened with all my might. And then my nose came into play. Yes. I could smell it, too, though probably not as strongly as Erasmus could. The smell of damp earth and that sickly sweet scent of decay.

  Erasmus was at my ear again, his breath tickling my hair. “When I tell you to, you must fire.”

  I nodded. I figured he could see me even if I couldn’t see him.

  “Ready. Lift the crossbow another few inches. There now. Fire!”

  I clamped down hard on the trigger. The string twanged, the bolt shot forward with a whoosh, but I heard a swish of fabric, and the quarrel clanged against rock several yards away.

  “Dammit!” I cried.

  The light nearly blinded me when Erasmus switched it on. No sign of her.

  But on the ground was the biker. I swallowed my scream. I think he had seen better days than today.

  Chapter Fifteen

  So that was what Karl Waters had looked like. The bicyclist was shriveled. His bike pants and long-sleeved shirt looked far too large for him, like someone had dressed a mummy in a much bigger man’s clothes. Gray skin and sunken cheeks, eye sockets, and neck. I could see his bones as if his skin were just papier-mâché draped over his skeleton.

  “Holy shit,” I gasped. I couldn’t stop staring, but I knew I had to. There was still a succubus on the loose.

  “It’s gone,” said Erasmus, aiming his flashlight down the long passage of the cave, where it forked and perhaps forked many more times.

  “Can’t we follow it?” I asked half-heartedly. I really didn’t want to go after it into the dark. That seemed like a suicide mission.

  “That’s not wise,” he said. I was relieved to hear it. “But you were close. You almost hit it. We shall have to try again.”

  “Won’t it expect us now? Go somewhere else?”

  Erasmus bent to pick something up, studying it. I didn’t want to know what it was. He tossed it away and sighed. “Possibly. We’ll try again tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow will be too late. It will kill again.”

  “Perhaps. But it has killed today, so it may not kill again tonight.”

  “I can’t take that chance!”

  “What choice do you have? You will never find it in there and you cannot follow it at night.”

  Was it my imagination, or was there a greenish glow down one fork of the cave? “What’s that?” I pointed.

  He looked and his brow furrowed. “Let me go.”

  “No. I’m going with you.”

  “Stubborn, foolish woman.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I’ve heard it all before.” I readied the crossbow and marched toward the cavern. He was right beside me. The cavern was dead quiet.

  The floor was damp or dusty, but when it got irregular and rocky, it became smooth and slippery. I would have lost my footing several times if it hadn’t been for Erasmus’s steadying hand.

  I looked down the bead of the crossbow, turning it this way and that, but mostly ahead. That was where the eerie light was, after all. It reflected off the stalactites and stalagmites, gleaming like a Phantom of the Opera set. We turned at an outcropping of flowing stone columns and saw the source. I tightened my hand on the crossbow.

  A vortex. A swirling mass of light and shapes, shadow and sparks, hanging in the air as if a doorway opened to another room that didn’t exist—not on this plane, anyway.

  “That’s it!” I gasped. “That’s that evil hole. What’s it doing here?”

  Erasmus said nothing. When I glanced his way, his cheeks gleamed green and the swirling light danced in his eyes. He walked closer. I darted forward to grab his sleeve but he shook his head. He motioned for me to stay behind but it was tough allowing him to go. Would it possess him as it possessed Jolene?

  He walked steadily forward. The vortex had made no sound before, but now shushing noises like waves against the shore began issuing forth. The sounds changed, twisted, becoming more like voices, and then I was certain they were voices. One voice rising above the rest. It spoke a language I had never heard, that probably few mortals had. The tones were twisted, guttural, with sibilants going on longer than they should. And when they stopped talking, Erasmus answered in the same language. It sounded almost backwards, as if the articulation would be impossible to pronounce. I shivered. As I watched him, it made me realize how different he really was from me, how alien. It was important not to forget that.

  The answer from the vortex came back swiftly, harshly. Erasmus answered in rapid-fire succession and I had the feeling a shouting match had ensued. A burst of power exploded from the vortex and we both fell back. A scream tore from my throat as I landed hard on my backside. From the ground, my instincts took over, and I aimed the crossbow into the heart of it and fired.

  A howl of rage soared up to the ceiling, rattled around the stalactites, and then fell away in dying echoes. The quarrel was spit from the vortex and fell to the cave’s floor. It was blackened and smoldering. And then the vortex suddenly receded, growing smaller until it became the way it looked at the museum, like a ragged tear in the air, glowing green.

  When I could breathe again. I sat up. I didn’t notice how long Erasmus had been offering me his hand, but I finally took it and he pulled me to my feet. I scuttled to where the quarrel lay and picked it up. It was twisted and burnt. Oddly, I felt that the crossbow would resent me for it, but I stuffed it in the waiting holster anyway.

  “Are you all right?” said Erasmus.

  “Yeah. Just…yeah.”

  He took my arm and hauled me back the way we had come. We stumbled around the corner and leaned against the wall. “You were talking to them. It,” I said. “What did it
say?”

  “The vortex is not an ‘it.’ It is merely a gateway. Those within the gateway, however, were not pleased by its being open. They object to having congress with your world.”

  “And did you tell them the feeling’s mutual?”

  “In so many words. They felt insulted.”

  “Hence the explosive belch.”

  “Yes.”

  “So if they don’t like it why don’t they just close up shop and go home?”

  “Because there is this book…”

  “Oh.” Again, my fault, or so he would have me think. “So how did this vortex get here from the museum?”

  He studied me with his piercing gaze. “That’s what troubles me. This gateway is connected with the book. This sort of gateway doesn’t travel as a rule. Which makes me suspect that the one in the museum is a second gateway.”

  “Another one? That’s all we need.”

  “That is indisputably a very bad thing.”

  “Oh crap. If you think it’s bad…”

  “We must see this other opening.”

  “I saw it last night. We went over there.”

  He rounded on me. “You went over there? Alone?”

  “No. The Wiccans were with me.”

  “The Wiccans! Beelze’s tail!”

  “The point is it seemed dormant, like a crack. Sort of like this one looks now. But then Jolene had this scrying stick, this crystal, and she pointed it at it, and instead of the nice white glow it went all red and wicked and then it possessed her.”

  His glare was piercing. “It possessed her?” His voice was low, monotone…and angry.

  “Um…yeah. And it said something about this being a game. And then it said to stay out of the shadows and that ‘the game is not for the weak of heart. What has begun cannot now be stopped.’ What does that mean? And why did the scrying stick glow really bright when she aimed it at me?”

  He grabbed my shoulders and glared full power right in my face. “Why didn’t you tell me all this before?”

  “There was the shop and the pentagram and all sorts of other…things.” The latter made me drop my gaze. Those “other things” were a distraction indeed, a fact even he couldn’t deny.

  He released one arm, but kept a tight grip of the other and led me back the way we’d come. The fellow did like to manhandle.

  “It follows the book,” he said. “Always the book. There has only ever been one. One gateway.”

  “Shoot. Well, we’ll have to go look at it. Again. We think it was the Ordo. That they summoned it or conjured it or whatever. They do have a demon helping them.”

  “I have not forgotten,” he bit out.

  “But what about that other stuff? What it said about a game and the scrying stick being bright when aimed at me?”

  He pondered. “I imagine that the book is merely a game to the Powers That Be. And…all must be complete before it is done. It cannot be stopped before it is complete.”

  “You mean when we capture the succubus?”

  “Yes.”

  “But why did it glow…?”

  “I don’t know. These are your Wiccans’ toys. These are not Netherworld objects.”

  We arrived back to where the biker lay, shriveled and dusty. I swallowed. “Then we’ve still got to plan how to catch the damned succubus to get this over with.”

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?” said Erasmus.

  “What?”

  The sneer was back, all teeth, gritting. “Your little date.”

  “Holy cats!” Ed Bradbury. I had to call the sheriff. And how would I explain my being here this time?

  No help for it. I dug the phone out of my jacket pocket and dialed 9-1-1.

  • • •

  The rock was pretty uncomfortable, but it was better than sitting on the ground. I told Erasmus to beat it, but he was having none of it. I knew it was because Sheriff Ed was on his way, and for some twisted reason he enjoyed taunting him.

  At least the vortex had dwindled and didn’t seem to give off any light. I didn’t want any deputies to go wandering around and get sucked in.

  I rose on the approach of the stamp of many feet. There was a ranger with them, and what looked like a couple of paramedics, one of them with an old-fashioned wooden stretcher leaning over his shoulder.

  Ed hurried up the trail when he spied me. He wore his full-on policeman’s face, all square-jawed and uncompromising. The Smokey Bear hat shadowed his eyes, but they were burning with intensity.

  “Kylie,” he said, stopping before me. He flicked his eyes at Erasmus and the demon postured right back at him. “Mr. Dark.”

  “Constable,” he replied with mock civility.

  Ed ignored him and turned to me. “What’s going on?”

  “Like I said to the 9-1-1 dispatcher. It was the same thing that happened to Karl Waters. At least I think so.”

  He glanced toward the abandoned bicycle. “George,” he said over his shoulder. The young mustached deputy trotted forward. “Dust it.” The deputy moved quickly.

  “Did you touch it?” Ed asked me.

  “No. Neither of us did. No reason to.”

  He motioned for the paramedics and the other deputy to go on through into the cave. “Why were you here, Kylie?”

  “Just checking out the local sights. I’m new here.”

  “And him?” He lifted the brim of his hat toward Erasmus.

  “He’s visiting. He wanted to see the petroglyphs.”

  He glared at Erasmus. “Big on old stuff, huh?”

  Erasmus raised his brows. “You have no idea.”

  “Ed.” I stepped between them and their pissing match. “What happened to him? Is this what happened to Karl Waters?”

  “And Bob Hitchins. What I really want to know is…” He turned to me, voice low. “What do all of these have to do with you?”

  “Me? I didn’t do anything!”

  “But they all have some connection to you.”

  “What do you mean? I don’t even know this guy.”

  “And yet it was you who found him.”

  “All innocently, I assure you.”

  He stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets and frowned. I wondered if it might be a good idea to tell him the truth, get his help. But all I had to do was glance at Erasmus to realize what a stupid idea that would be.

  I squeaked in surprise when Ed grabbed my arm and took me aside. “Look, if there is anything you know, anything you’re holding back, I’d like you to tell me now, no harm done.”

  I gave him my sincerest expression. “No, there’s nothing. Really. I’d tell you if I did, believe me.” I felt bad about the lie, and even worse when Erasmus snorted softly behind me.

  Ed nodded, chewed on his lip, and then released me. “You two can go now.”

  I tapped Erasmus on the arm, motioning for us to depart. Walking backwards I waved to Ed. “See you tonight?” By the stern look to his face, I wasn’t certain we were still on.

  Ed seemed to snap out of his cop reverie and nodded. “Yeah! Of course I’ll be there.”

  But my sense of fair play was getting the better of me. I walked up to him, leaving Erasmus behind. “Um…look. Are you sure? I mean, if you suspect me of something it might be a conflict of interest. I wouldn’t want you getting into trouble on my account.”

  “Kylie.” He cocked his head at me. “You are not a suspect. I certainly couldn’t fraternize with you if you were.”

  “Oh. Good.” In one sense I was relieved. I couldn’t help but sneak a glance back at Erasmus. “I wonder…I wonder if we shouldn’t wait till all of this blows over.”

  He took a deep breath. “Are you backing out of the date?”

  “No! I mean…if you still think it’s a good idea.”

  He took my shoulders in a strong grip and looked at me steadily. “I’d very much like to take you out tonight. It’s just supper. We’ll talk, see where it goes.”

  He had very nice eyes. They weren’t dark and
unfathomable like Erasmus’s. They were human eyes, full of warmth and light. I nodded.

  “Okay,” he said. “See you tonight.”

  I hurried away with my head down, not wishing to catch the eye of his suspicious deputy. Once on the trail I breathed again and Erasmus was suddenly at my elbow.

  “Charming,” he said dully. “Good to see that a little murder won’t come between lovebirds.”

  “What’s it to you? At least we’re the same species.”

  “Is that what’s bothering you?”

  “What’s bothering me is you! We made a mistake. No need to rub my nose in it.”

  He glared, saying nothing.

  “I’m human, he’s human,” I went on, heedless. “You’re a demon. It’s supposed to be humans with humans. Right?”

  He laughed. “You think this upsets me? You’re mad. Go on. Go on a date with him. Go fraternize with other humans, with a thousand! I have no interest in a human as anything other than a curiosity. And you were certainly an interesting specimen.”

  I jerked to a halt with every intention of giving him the smack of a lifetime. But on looking at him, I held back. He was breathing harshly, eyes slightly wild. His lip curled in a snarl, revealing a canine tooth. I let go of the tension in my shoulders and brushed past him as I headed back down the trail. “Whatever helps you sleep at night,” I muttered.

  “I don’t sleep, as it happens. Demons do not sleep. It’s part of that being another species thing.”

  “You’re the one who said it!”

  “That’s right! Don’t you forget it. I am a Demon of the Netherworlds. And I don’t need humans!”

  “I know you don’t—” He pushed me aside and marched on ahead with a great stomping gait. What the hell was his problem? I sighed and followed.

  We hiked back down the trail in silence until we finally reached the car.

  I unlocked the door and he paused. “I have no wish to continue in this hellish conveyance.”

  “Are you sure?” I asked, but was actually happier he decided to depart. A sullen demon was not my idea of good company.

  He pulled his coat brusquely over his chest. “Quite sure. I’ll investigate the museum. Off with you, then,” and he made a rudely dismissive gesture.