Bart of Darkness (The Book of Bart 2)

by Ryan Hill

  I’d hoped Arthur would take me up on the challenge. It would’ve been great to land a few haymakers on that big tub of grease. Even better, it could’ve created an opening for us to make an escape. But no such luck.

  “Why would I do that when my friend here can freeze you in place?” Arthur asked, his gut vibrating as he laughed. “All the effort required of me then is to pull the ring off your finger.”

  “And he’s going to need all the energy he’s got.” Kenan gestured with a hand, and once again I couldn’t move. I was lucky that my stance was balanced, otherwise I’d have tipped over and scraped my face on the stone steps.

  “Much obliged,” Arthur said. His alcohol tinged-breath blew in my face as he removed the Ring of the Gods from my finger and returned it to his own.

  With another flick of Kenan’s hand, the spell was broken, granting me the freedom to move. My first instinct was to lunge at Arthur and rip the ring from his finger. Bonus points if the finger happened to come with it. Much as I wanted to do that, though, I couldn’t. Not with Kenan standing around. He’d freeze me again, and if I wasn’t careful he would shatter me into a million little pieces of ice. Even if someone could glue me back together after the pieces melted, mistakes were bound to be made. Chances were, I’d have an ear put on upside-down or something equally ridiculous.

  So instead, I trudged after them.

  We approached the mansion’s main floor, the cool breeze of the dungeon replaced by the warmer rush of air conditioning. Out in the hallway, I noticed that all the partying sounds from earlier were gone. It was quiet in the ballroom.

  “Is the party already over?” I asked. “Shame.”

  Nobody acknowledged me, so I decided to continue running my mouth until I’d sucked up all the air in the room.

  “What’s waiting for us out there, Kenan? Do you have some huge orgy planned before this sacrifice? I’ve been trying to have a go with Sam for a while now.”

  “You mention that now?” Sam asked. “Disgusting.”

  Kenan laughed. He turned around, creases lining his cheeks as he smiled. “You’ve gone this long without knowing the surprise, I think you can go a little longer.”

  “You tease,” I said as we entered the ballroom.

  The lavish food spread was gone, replaced by a stage at the far end of the room, complete with two makeshift altars that looked like two life-size X’s made of spare parts from a jungle gym.

  “That was really good of you,” Sam said to me. “Getting Duffy out of here.”

  “What choice did we have?” I asked. I didn’t think it was good of me telling Duffy to leave. There just wasn’t a better alternative. He could’ve stayed here with us and the Caelo in Terra, but that idea was offensive to my stupendous intellect. I gazed out at the Caelo followers. I held out hope that we’d still get the better of them.

  The followers were standing in a radiating half-circle, motionless, the black holes on their heads exposed. It was like they were actors taking their marks in preparation for the curtain rising on a show.

  I figured Sam and I were the stars of that show, considering the two altars on the stage. What were the Caelo hoping to do with us? They wouldn’t burn us, not inside the mansion. That’d just lead to everything else burning down. Ritual sacrifice, maybe? It explained the altars, but what good would that do? Sacrificing Sam and I wouldn’t bring any benefits that I could think of.

  But that seemed to be the plan. We were forced through the semi-circle of Mop Tops, where I stepped on one of the Caelo’s hands on purpose. There was no reaction or hint of pain, which was disappointing. I stepped on another hand, to make sure it wasn’t just that one Mop Top. Again, no reaction.

  Shame.

  Then the almost-angel and I were ascending the steps to the stage. There were only four steps, but the stage was high enough that I could see the black holes on the heads of every Mop Top when I turned around. Remy and Kenan separated us, the Creole positioning Sam by one of the altars, the ex-demon taking me to the other. The Ring of the Gods, still on Arthur’s finger, caught a glare from one of the overhead lights. It shone like a spotlight in my eyes. Oh, to have that baby back on my finger. Whatever came next, the ring would’ve surely protected me. If it could keep an angel’s touch from burning my skin, it could protect me from whatever silliness the Caelo in Terra had in mind.

  But I didn’t, and with a swish and a flick from Kenan and Remy, Sam and I were bound to our altars, the metal cold to the touch. The whole thing reeked of ritual sacrifice.

  “So, Kenan,” I said. “I’ve got most of it figured out. You’re making Paradise here in Raleigh, using souls to power it, but what’s the big deal? And why are Sam and I getting a front seat?”

  “We’re creating a new theocracy,” Kenan said.

  “That’s it?” I scoffed. Insane cults that drank spiked fruit punch because a comet was scheduled to fly across the sky, carrying with it imaginary aliens bent on destroying the planet, were a dime a dozen. They were never true theocracies, though. “A raving lunatic does that every other day. You know that.”

  Kenan laughed. “It’s a little bit more involved than that.”

  I mimicked Kenan’s laugh. “Is it?”

  “Think about it.” Sam peeked at me in between her curls. “Cults always fail because they don’t have divine power. You can’t have a true theocracy without it.”

  “I know,” I said. “But the Man Upstairs is the only thing in the universe with divine power, and last time I checked, he wasn’t much for sharing.”

  Arthur patted my cheek with gusto. “We don’t need your God, or his divine power.”

  “Then congratulations, this is all much ado about nothing.” I smirked. “You’re nothing more than a bargain bin, garden variety cult.”

  “Not necessarily,” Kenan said. “You see, we don’t need God to get divine power.”

  Wait. What?

  “That’s just not possible,” I said. “You’ve been drinking too much cheap wine if you think that.”

  “I didn’t think so either,” Kenan said. “Until I met Arthur.”

  “Finding the truth about divine power has been my life’s work,” Arthur said. “Why do you think I experimented on Jurgen all those years?”

  “Besides the fact that you’re a massive dick?” I asked.

  Arthur’s face fell still. “I wanted to see if a human soul had the divine power.”

  “That’s a pretty messed up way to go about it,” I said. “You scarred poor Jurgen for life.”

  Arthur beamed, like he was proud of that achievement. “I could always make a divine spark, but to create a binding, infinite theocracy across more than one universe–”

  I yawned. “Get to the point.”

  Arthur stopped, very much annoyed. He ground his teeth, the bone making his cheeks move in and out. “That is the point. Why do you think my kind tries to win followers here through the Good Word? Or why do I have one of the greatest collections of mystical artifacts in the world?”

  “Because collecting bobble heads wasn’t your thing?” I asked.

  “The followers gave us the power of faith.” Arthur sighed, shaking his head. “But I needed a way to harness that power.”

  “So that’s why you have such an amazing collection,” Sam said. “You were looking for the missing piece that bound everything together.”

  “I don’t buy it,” I said. “You’re not holding anything, and all the Ring of the Gods does is provide protection.”

  Arthur tsked me. “You’re such a simpleton. This ring does so much more than that.”

  “Well that at least explains why you wanted it back so badly.” How about that? The Ring of the Gods, in the wrong hands, could help create a divine spark. I bet my coup against Hell would’ve gone differently if I’d had the ring at the time. If I ever got the ring back, I would need to see what kind of fun I could have with it. Only my imagination was the limit!

  “Now you’re getting it,” Arthur said,
pointing a finger at me. “The ring helps me create the divine spark, and once you have that, it only takes three more things to create a true theocracy like Heaven and Hell.”

  “A dash of pure good.” Kenan grinned at Sam, then gazed upon me. “A sprinkle of pure evil.”

  I awed. “That’s so sweet of you to say.”

  “He’s being modest,” Arthur said. “We’re taking every drop of evil inside of you and pulling it out.”

  Wait. What?

  I tried to hide my concern. “That’s, well … joke’s on you because…”

  I sighed and rolled my head. I had nothing. No comeback, no secret karate move—nothing. This evening was turning out to be an all-time stinker.

  “The third part’s a bit trickier,” Kenan said. “But not for Arthur.”

  “You need souls,” Arthur said. “Lots of them. They’re the power source that keeps the divine spark chugging along.”

  “With a continuous spark,” Kenan said. “We can not only create the best of all worlds, but sustain it.”

  “That meeting of the minds was all it took for us to create Caelo in Terra.” Arthur made a sweeping motion toward the Mop Tops. “And thanks to my powers of persuasion, I converted followers to help the cause.”

  Sam pointed at the crowd. “How did you do that to them?”

  “Trade secret,” Kenan said.

  “Oh, there’s not harm in telling them now.” Arthur laughed, patting his comrade on the shoulder as if to calm him down. “We needed to give our followers a portable way to collect and transport souls here.”

  “On their heads?” Sam asked.

  “Best hiding place I could think of. All you need is a halfway decent wig and nobody knows the difference.”

  I wanted to mouth off, but not a single bit of trash talk came to mind. Even when my coup to take over Hell failed, I’d had a few “words of wisdom” to share with Lucifer and his cronies. I couldn’t remember the last time a situation rendered me speechless. Maybe during the Fall, but even then I flipped Heaven the middle finger. I figured losing my evil to a handful of asshats was too much, even for my razor-sharp wit.

  “You say that,” I said. “But Sam and I weren’t fooled.”

  “True,” Arthur said. “Then again, we have you to thank for all this.”

  “How’s that?”

  “If you hadn’t framed me for murder, Kenan and his lovely wife wouldn’t have heard about me.”

  “I’d been looking for someone with Arthur’s skills for some time,” Kenan said. “When I heard about his plight on the news, I knew I needed to intervene and keep his talents from wasting away in prison.”

  Veronica and Bunny emerged from the crowd then and stepped up to the stage, bringing the whole family together. It made for a sweet family portrait. So much so that it left a bitter taste in my mouth. I wished they’d all get strangled by an angry housewife with an apron covered in bunnies and sporting lobster oven mitts. How the housewife would do the deed wearing oven mitts was beyond me, but I didn’t care. It was a wish, not reality.

  Bunny wrapped her arm around her husband. “And we made sure Arthur wasn’t convicted of that heinous crime.”

  Arthur smirked. “After all, I was innocent.”

  “Let me get this straight,” I said. “You’re pooling your resources to create a new Heaven and Hell?”

  “The best of all worlds,” Kenan said.

  I laughed. “Why would you subject yourself to that kind of torture?”

  “We’ll have the ultimate power over every living soul. And the less souls your God has, the weaker He gets. If He loses enough souls to us, eventually our version of Heaven and Hell will become the only version.”

  “We’d run the Heaven part.” Bunny kissed Kenan on the cheek. “And Arthur already has the souls part down pat, so he’d get Earth.”

  “And I’d get the underworld.” Veronica licked her lips. “So I can have all the fun.”

  “Let me guess,” I said. “You’d hoped I’d rule by your side?”

  “Not at all. We just pegged you for an easy target.”

  “Ah.” I made a mental note to myself. In the future, ladies would have to work a little harder to win me over. Clearly, I’d gotten a reputation as an easy lay. Or target. Whichever.

  “Veronica, sweetie, it’s time,” Bunny said.

  Veronica didn’t say a word as she walked off the stage and through the door on the other side of the room. I wondered where she’d run off to, but there were more pressing things on my mind at the moment, like how in the Heaven was I getting out of this one?

  Kenan faced the crowd, throwing out his arms. “Assume the position.”

  I’d lost count of how many times I’d been tied to a sacrificial altar, but I could count on one finger how many times it had actually worried me. This was that one time. I didn’t know how they’d get the evil out of me, and I didn’t want to. And what did it mean if the Caelo succeeded? Would I be—gasp—good?

  What about Sam? Without good, would Sam go rotten? The situation was stressful, to say the least. I just hoped I wouldn’t get any grey hairs.

  Suddenly, Arthur snapped his fingers. A small, white light the size of a marble appeared mid-air. The divine spark.

  The Mop Tops tilted the top of their heads toward the spark. From where I stood, it was like seeing a bunch of little black holes in the room. Considering what Arthur said, I figured the holes were a sort of collective for souls. I’d never seen a wave of souls transported from one place to another—and now, despite myself, I was curious about what it would look like.

  Smoke rose from inside the Mop Top’s heads, like they were letting off steam. Beams of light shot out next, and the combination gave off a hazy, bright display. It made for the strangest dance club I’d ever seen. The smoke and light twisted together like some psychedelic-looking vine. There were well over one-hundred Mop Tops, each emitting a handful of light-vines moving toward the spark.

  “I have no response to this,” Sam said.

  “I don’t have much of one either,” I said. “Except to say it’s freaky.”

  The spark gained in brightness to the point that I had to look away. Few things shone as bright as the sun, but combining a divine spark with a few souls evidently did the trick. How Kenan and the others could stare at the spark was beyond me.

  “Isn’t it beautiful?” Kenan asked.

  “Can you feel its warmth?” Arthur asked. “I’ve never felt the spark like this before.”

  “Seems pretty cold and ugly to me.” Of course I felt the warmth. It was like touching a car after it sat all day in the sun. I hoped the spark got so hot it made Arthur and the others melt. Then Sam and I could walk away, her with her good intact, me with my evil.

  I forced myself to look at the orb, its brightness burning into my eyes. A pair of sunglasses would’ve helped, but it only took a few moments for my ex-demon eyes to adjust. The ball of light had real power to it. If I’d known the Ring of the Gods had this kind of capability, the things I could’ve done. Leveled mountains. Flooded cities. Destroyed all wineries that sold bottles for less than $10.

  With these Caelo in Terra dipshits in charge of the ring? I’d have considered anything less than an evolutionary event that made every man, woman, and child on the planet look like a tortoise a minor miracle.

  Something slid open with a metallic whoosh on the other side of the ballroom and I glanced over to see Veronica twisting open a golden tube about a foot long. A small, sharp point extended into a spear.

  Great. Nothing like a spear to make this a real crucifixion!

  I’d hoped that taking the essence from us involved little more than a pinprick, but with a spear-head the size of a Thanksgiving turkey, it was obvious they had other ideas. And it was not going to be pleasant.

  “I know why they went after Remy,” I said.

  “Why?” Sam asked.

  “I don’t know where that spear came from, but he’s the only one in the world who wou
ld be able to get something like that.”

  Veronica sauntered over to Sam, the spear’s tip in between them. The almost-angel looked in my direction, her eyes focused on the floor, refusing to give Veronica any sort of satisfaction. She was terrified, that much was easy to see, and her breathing had quickened.

  “Enough with the quiet confidence,” I said. “Spit on that bitch, or something.”

  “Are you talking to her?” Veronica asked.

  “Well I’m not asking you to spit on my friend. That would be crazy.”

  Sam glanced up at me. “What good would it do?”

  “Nothing,” I said. “But it’d sure as Heaven make us both feel better.”

  “Maybe, but time’s up. Your window has closed.” Veronica pricked the almost-angel’s arm with the spear, then stuck the tip into the wound.

  Sam cried out as blood poured from the wound, running down her skin. The spear’s tip had a soft glow and I realized it was taking Sam’s angelic goodness. Veronica removed the spear, small trickles of blood covering the tip in red lines, and ran the back of her hand across the almost-angel’s cheek.

  “It’s okay,” the half-demon said. “There’s still a little goodness and purity left in you.”

  Sam didn’t respond, and I remembered losing my pure goodness in the Fall. It hurt. A lot. It was more emotional than anything else, as unbearable sadness filled the void left by goodness. That sadness soon turned to infinite anger, and a demon was born. I wondered how Sam was taking losing her goodness. Would her recent sadness regarding her suicide consume her? Would she get angry and want revenge?

  “Sam,” I said. “Are you okay?”

  Veronica turned a knob at the bottom of the golden tube, breaking my train of thought, and another spear-head extended from the opposite end. I assumed this one was meant for me and my evil. The two spear-heads must’ve made for a yin and yang-type deal, holding good and evil together.

  The half-demon continued turning the golden tube, even after the spear-head became longer than the spear-head used on Sam.

  “Is making it that long necessary?” I asked. “You said you don’t need a lot.”