“The one you killed. Asshole,” I muttered the last word but he let it go. Well bully for me.
“You might not understand anyway. There are friendships that last days, some weeks. This one lasted centuries. One of the friends was entrusted with a great secret and even made a guardian. Well, that simply did not sit well with the other friend. Oh it was fine for a while, but the one that was snubbed dwelt on it. His annoyance became anger and one night, months after the honor had passed to the other, he confronted his friend. Both had far too much to drink and they said things they would both regret, but the damage was done.
“We fought, with words at the first, then with power. We tested each other and it had an almost friendly feel, but as we lashed at each other it became clear that we were no longer interested in being friends. I heard a phrase once, from one of my younger students.” He motioned upwards.
“He called you a pussy?”
“There’s that sense of humor again. Hold onto to that, please. I look forward to many more quips before this exceptionally long day is over. Do you know how long a day in the wards lasts?”
Balkir finally came into view. I wished very bad things upon him but he looked no worse for wear. In fact, as far as maniacal warlocks with a wish for world domination went, he couldn’t have appeared nicer. For now.
“Nope.”
“An eternity. Night’s relief simply does not touch the realm of demons.”
Ah shit.
“As I was saying. The word I learned was ‘friendemy.’ A curious mixture of two words that quite succinctly equaled our relationship. For once we began to fight, all of our petty disagreements over the years came to a head. It grew more and more brutal as the hours wore on. The testing became outright power, and when it was all said and done, well, Salazar reminded me of why he was chosen and I was not. He was simply more powerful. But I learned a valuable lesson that day.”
“Don’t fuck with the necromancers?”
“Yes, yes! That’s the attitude.” He grinned from ear to ear as he loomed over me. “I learned that I had a long way to go in my studies and I took the lesson to heart. If we were to ever confront each other again, I would be the victor, and so it went. You see me now and Salazar is dust. Worse than dust. A demon roasts his soul.”
I wanted to rip his head off and toss his body into one of the convenient pools of lava. All this … this bullshit was out of jealousy?
“You’re a real piece of shit, know that? You’re a spoiled child that couldn’t get his way so you dedicated your life to bringing down a great man. For what? This? You get to hang out in the wards? That’s really brilliant, Balkir.” I didn’t bother to mention the multitude of ironies that went through my head. He’d sought demons and a way to control them. Well, this one-way trip was worth it to me. At least this asshole wasn’t ever returning to the other side.
“Do you approve of my raiment?” He swept his arms wide.
Blakir’s robe was white as a virgin’s thighs and shown brightly against the very dark room. Complicated blue patterns were worked into the hem and collar. I looked and looked, drawn to the patterns, until I understood what I was looking at. Glyphs, and a lot of them. They were so dense that they looked like nothing more than fancy trim, but I could almost feel the power pulsing from him. I had the strangest desire to reach out and seize it but magic didn’t work that way.
“It’s pretty.”
Balkir cocked his head to the side, bald pate with the pentagram like shape reflecting the heat from the lava pools. He looked down at his robe and fingered the embroidery. I half expected another blow but it didn’t come.
“I had not considered the robe of a warlock to be pretty. Perhaps I can decorate it with your blood by the end of the night?”
“Works for me. That way I can haunt your ass for the rest of eternity.”
“You think very highly of yourself, of your powers, but you have very little. You know that, right? The lines are weak. Nothing like they were in the old days.”
“Great. Another ‘when I was young’ speech.”
“Hah. I also hated speeches along those lines when I was young. That was a long time ago. My father was a demon you know.”
“What?”
“Oh no. Not one of the demonic. He was a demon to alcohol. Mead mostly, but he was fond of striking me. The first time I summoned a real demon, unaware of what I was actually doing, it resulted in his death. It was violent, bloody, and foul. And I laughed. I howled just as he howled. I knew then that I was destined for greatness.”
Blah blah blah. All this mad doctor shit was getting on my last nerve.
“Do you now why you are here?” he said after a moment of silence. I suppose he was waiting for his life story to move me in some way. All I really wanted to do was take a piss.
Feeling more awake than I had in the last few hours, I managed to struggle a bit against my bonds. I lifted my head and looked around the room. I found Balkir to my right side. He had his hands clasped behind his back, head tilted up. He was muttering words, but I couldn’t make them out.
“Virgin sacrifice?” I wondered.
“You can do better than that.” He gestured.
A head appeared from a pool of molten lava. A single horn broke the surface, then half of another as the head came into view. Red skin marred by black scars crossed its scalp. Slits where eyes should’ve been, and nothing where a nose might exist on a person. It was vaguely man shaped, if not exactly proportionate. The body was long, with the torso elongated and heavily muscled. It had a tiny waist then four legs, but one missing a foot, so it stood like a weird tripod. The demon’s flesh rippled and fumes rose from its skin. Its ponderous steps were labored as it brought itself near Balkir.
The old warlock stepped to one side as the last drops of molten rock splattered on the obsidian surface. I don’t know how hard the rock was but it was scarred by the drippings. I didn’t stand a chance if one of them landed on me.
Smaller demons joined the first. They moved like liquid silver on many segmented legs. Skittering around the room, they came in dozens, then by the hundreds.
I hoped when they tore me to pieces it would be quick.
Balkir gestured and my bonds fell away. I wondered what fresh madness this was but didn’t wait to find out. I rolled off my hard bed and almost managed to get my numb hands underneath as I crashed to the hard floor.
“Ow.” I managed to mutter as hundreds of the little demons ran past.
What? I thought they were planning to devour me. Maybe a lucky break. Maybe, just maybe, I could whip out a spell of shielding, or better yet an illusion to hide behind. I tried to grasp at the cusp but it simply wasn’t there.
“Strange, isn’t it?” Balkir said next to me in a lecturer’s tone. “We spend our lives learning how to reach through the curtain that separates us. How to go deeper and deeper beyond the cusp. But when you are on the other side it doesn’t make sense. How was it we grasped for this power, yet when we are here the power … is not.”
I struggled to my feet and almost got my hand up before Balkir’s fist crashed into my head.
I spun and went down again. My head buzzed and went numb. My eye would have a dandy of a bruise.
“I could come up with a thousand tortures for your meddling, but sometimes the classics are the most satisfying.” He kicked me in the stomach.
I was tossed onto my back, but had to roll onto my side and curl up. I couldn’t get anything into my lungs. The kick had been precise, catching me right in the solar plexus. I gagged, sucked in a tiny bit of air, and saw stars.
More blows, and I wasn’t sure how long the beating went on. I drifted between pain and a surcease that tried it’s best to carry me away. Consciousness, though, would not depart no matter how much I wished it.
At one point, I was sure he was using some kind of stick or staff on me. My legs, arms, and back were covered in welts.
I cried out, promising things that made me feel nothing but s
hame.
After something approaching forever, the blows let off and I was allowed to float in a world that was blessedly free from pain. There was an ache between my eyes, but I figured that was just from one of Salazar’s strikes. Blood dripped from my nose and mouth. I took in a breath, and it passed into lungs covered with cracked ribs. I had pissed myself at one point, but blessedly had managed to keep control of my sphincter.
“Phin,” A familiar voice said.
“Piss off,” my unfamiliar voice replied. It was scratchy and I knew it was from screaming.
“Listen. I haven’t much time.”
One eye fluttered open and I wished I hadn’t bothered to open it. The ground was still there but it was out of focus. My left eye refused to budge. Fine, screw you then.
The obsidian floor was slick. Now who had spilled a glass of water in the room? Then I realized it was my blood. The thought of water almost drove me insane. At this point I would have sold my soul for a glass.
“Phin!” The voice again.
“You aren’t real, Salazar.”
“I’m as real as you, idiot son.” I looked up to see my old mentor huddled beside me.
“Is this your Obi-Wan moment? He struck you down but you are more powerful in death and all that shit.”
“Nothing of the sort. I fled when the demon eviscerated me. The portal was open so I took it straight to this realm.”
“So you’re in hell too?”
“Yes. First ward, but I have little power here, Phineas. I am only essence and have no substance. If Balkir sees me, he may be able to hold me in thrall. Listen to me and listen well.”
“I hurt everywhere.” I tried to roll away from the trick my mind was playing.
“Stop whining and listen!”
I tried to sigh, but it came out a rasp.
Skittering shapes rushed around the room. Where had the huge demon gone? His form, so human like, had scared the shit out of me. I might have been a powerful warlock on the other side, but here I wouldn’t last two seconds against the demonic monstrosity.
“You’ve been gelded, but not for good,” Salazar whispered in my other ear. I closed my eyes and tried to ignore the mind fuck. “Think of the image on the letter I left you. Hold it in your mind and remember sinking into it. Do you have it?”
I didn’t but I tried. I concentrated on my trip to the secret room. Glenda had been with me and it was her, as my anchor, that allowed me to focus enough to imagine the letter in my mind. The hand drawn glyph swam into view and I felt, once again, the sinking sensation.
Something lashed out and struck me, but not a physical blow. My brain sang as something smacked at the core of my being and passed through my physical body and into my essence.
“You must focus.”
“Christ, leave me alone!” I tried to scream, but the words were barely a hiss of consternation. “Wait, gelded?”
I did my best to reach for my balls, but moving, even an inch, was pure agony.
“Not there, here!” And a finger poked me between the eyes.
“Aches there.”
“Of course it does. You are a child of the cusp and he knows that. You have so much power here, so very much, but he has suppressed it. You must break the bond. You must!”
“What bond?”
“Listen, just listen. The room. You found it?”
“Yeah,” I said, thinking of the biggest secret at the school and how I was forbidden from touching or sharing any of the artifacts.
“I warned you to never use the tools there. But things have changed.”
“Yeah things have changed. I just got my ass kicked six ways from Sunday.” I said and spit out a mouthful of blood.
“Ignore the letter. Do you hear me? Open the way, go back, gather tools from the room. Then you must return and destroy Balkir. I don’t mean defeat him. I mean rend him and grind his corpse to nothingness. You must survive and win. Do you hear me?”
“Yeah, right. Go get help and come back and kick his ass. Sure, right after I die.” I tried to pass out again.
“Do not let him have the key! It’s part of you and will not work unless you release it. That’s what this is about. Do you understand?”
Words muttered somewhere in the distance reassured me that Balkir was still in the room. Great. What fresh hell was I in for? I tried to laugh at my own pun but failed miserably.
The Salazar ghost was going on about some fate of the earth bullshit but I didn’t care. What I did care about was how much I hurt and how many ways I wanted to do harm to Balkir. I didn’t just want to hurt him. I wanted to, as the fake Salazar apparition said, rend him. I wanted to tear off his skin and leave him to sizzle in the ward.
“Idiot son,” Salazar muttered again.
The shape in my mind still hovered on the periphery, like it was just out of reach. I focused on it and centered it in my mind. Something stuck me, but this time it was an icicle between the eyes. It slid into my skull and rooted around.
Being beat up by Balkir had been horrible. I was left almost a cripple and every inch of my body hurt. By contrast, having my old teacher, Salazar, in my head was the single most painful experience of my life. Razor blades bit at my eyes, head, and skull. My spine went cold and the pride I had felt a few moments ago at my ability not to shit myself evaporated.
“YOU!” Balkir howled. I opened my good eye one more time to see the form of the old demonologist raising his staff. Before me knelt Salazar, but he had true substance this time. Dirt and grime marred his features but his hooknose, always a source of pride, was even red with blood. I wasn’t sure which of us was in worse shape, even with him being dead.
“Phineas!” Salazar screamed and something gave way behind my eyes. There was a barrier in the distance and I was drawn toward it. My head spun as I rushed across the ruthless expanse of my mind. Closer and closer. I tried to stop but it was no use. The glyph rose before me, massive, mighty, pulsing with life. It detached itself and came for me. I tried to throw my arms out but they were useless.
The shape tore into me, shredding my limbs and mind. I tried to howl but nothing came out.
I succumbed to the darkness that had been clawing for me. However, not before I saw Salazar rising into the air and fleeing as fireballs swept after him.
“Happy trails,” I muttered and passed out.
**
Glenda and Ashley stood before me. Glenda had on the same red leather she was so fond of. It was form fitting and she certainly had the form for it. Ashley wore a simple dress that caressed the tops of her knees. It was bright red and suited her. I felt like I was seeing her sunny personality and not really her clothing. Even my dreams were filled with metaphors today.
I wanted nothing more than to go to Ashley and fold her in my arms, tell her that detective Andrews was nothing. That she was all I desired, but she kept shrinking away from me as if I were climbing a mountain that had no end.
Glenda leapt into view and her smile turned to horror. Her lungs filled and then she screamed words that I couldn’t make out. Ashley gestured at something behind me but I couldn’t turn my head to look. Then an ocean of flame rolled across the landscape behind them. It consumed trees, clouds, and the very earth itself. It rolled over them and turned them to ash as I screamed in horror. Then it was on me and I was on fire. I howled, but it was no use because I was nothing.
The void was everything.
Hints of light opened up at the corners. I was in a box, a massive one that must have been my new prison. Then the corners unfolded and elliptical lines of blue fluttered and spread out until they met. I covered my eyes with my hand but not before the light was there. It was, more so than the fire of my dream a moment ago, even more encompassing. What could I do with it? My body was broken. I had been defeated and had nothing left. I had no spells, no components. Some of my fingers were even smashed, so drawing the simplest of glyphs would be a slow and painful experience.
But the light was still there.
<
br /> “What?” a voice from far far away asked.
“What?” I asked back, but the words didn’t come out right. Was I missing teeth?
“The key, the key the key …” a tiny voice whispered over and over. I tried to chime in with the pedantic tone. “The key the key the key.”
The key. But Balkir was stuck here just like I was. Or was he? Did he have some way to return to the other realm?
Something pulsed underneath me, then a massive weight picked up my already shattered body and slammed it into the ground. I screamed long and hard at that one and was glad for it, because at least I had found my voice.
That wasn’t the only thing I had found.
It came to me like a literal bulb that blazed as bright as the sun. I had found the light and it was mine to command. But even as I did I had only one thought. The key.
Chapter Sixteen
There was a moment of breath taking beauty when all I wanted to do was inhale the flames that surrounded me. I wanted to meet immolation just as Glenda and Ashley had a moment ago. I wanted the light to become physical and consume me; take away my pain and end, forever, my suffering.
Then I thought of an even better use for it.
My eyes slammed open like a doorway. I was able to see everything. I don’t mean that as another lame metaphor. I was literally able to see every pulse, breath, whisper, person, soul, demon, and otherwise that resided in this hell. I had no doubt that if I so desired I could look outside this room and see the rest of the ward.
With a word, I asked one of the skittering demons to assist me. It came to my call but instead of one it was legion. Things moved in the bubbling pools of lava. Heads shuffled and broke through the surface. Eyes, black as the obsidian floor, turned to regard me. Voices begged me to tell them what to do.
“Rend!” I howled as I came off the ground.
Balkir was at least fifty feet away when he heard my voice. He turned, whipping his staff around, and cast a ball of flame the size of a subcompact in my direction.
At the Behest of the Dead Page 22