Netherworld

by Lisa Morton

  “Keep those lanterns up!” she commanded, then set her lantern down to rummage furiously through the pack on his back praying the creatures feared fire more than they did the light.

  She pulled out several of the handmade torches and removed the glass of her lantern long enough to set flame to the ends. They caught fire easily, and the amber light around them increased greatly, causing a collective hiss of fury from their adversaries.

  “Hold these!” she commanded Yi-kin. She took the lanterns from him (wincing at the pain in her left shoulder) and passed him the flaming branches, then she scooped up Mina and deposited the cat in the backpack.

  Yi-kin grinned as he saw the lizard things snarl and stagger further from the torches. “You take lanterns, I go first!” he called out over his shoulder.

  Diana was only too happy to oblige him.

  Yi-kin began pushing his way through. The lizards pulled back from him; occasionally one would attempt to rush forward, but Yi-kin wielded the torches like swords and more than one monster pulled back a burned arm. Sometimes he thrust forward, startling them, leaving one or two screeching in terror.

  They made good progress and reached the intersecting area but were forced to hesitate in the mouth there. Diana pushed up to peek around Yi-kin:

  Three more lizard creatures awaited them there, clawing, widening jaws to bear fangs, and darting narrow forked tongues at them.

  Yi-kin thrust forward again and again, sending the first attacker reeling back with scorched tongue and hands. Diana knew that, even as talented as he was at fencing with those torches, they’d never make it across that chamber, around the central fountain and out the far archway, unless….

  “The lanterns, Yi-kin!” she shouted.

  He instantly intuited her meaning, and stepped slightly to the side.

  She hurled the first lantern to her left. It struck one of the lizardmen, who was instantly covered in flaming oil and glass shards. The creature let out an eardrum-shattering shriek and wheeled around madly, while his fellows cowered back.

  Diana hurled the second lantern in the tunnel behind them. This one fell to the stone floor and created a wide, fiery puddle that none of their pursuers would come near.

  Diana shoved Yi-kin from behind. “GO!”

  He leapt into the chamber, whirling the torches at shoulder height. Diana ducked beneath his arms and ran for the way out. She reached it—but cried out as talons sank into her injured shoulder from behind.

  And then Yi-kin was there, jabbing a torch over her shoulder. She heard a screech, and felt something hot splatter her skin. Yi-kin pressed one of the torches into her hand, and by its light she saw one of the lizards clutching at one burned and now-useless eye socket.

  Two more of the reptiles stood between them and the main archway. Behind them, they saw several more emerge into the central intersection and begin to edge toward them.

  With Yi-kin guarding the rear and Diana pushing forward, they began working their way out back-to-back. Fortunately there were more of their opponents behind them, and Yi-kin was very effective indeed at dispensing those. Diana swung her torch wide and got them past the two guarding the archway, and she felt relief when she saw the underground river, with the path beside it clear.

  They ran to the bottom of the steps and Yi-kin called a halt. “I need last torch.”

  Diana dug it from his backpack, lighting it from hers, and Yi-kin laid one torch down at the bottom of the stairs. He was rewarded with a few of their pursuers rearing back and cover their eyes before he turned and ran up the steps after her.

  Diana knew they had thirty minutes from the top of the steps to the surface, maybe less if they ran. She’d lost track of time in the underground world, and hoped it would still be light outside when they reached the top. But the torch Yi-kin had placed at the bottom of the steps was sputtering out, and the lizard men were coming. They seemed to be growing bolder, perhaps desperate to not let their prey escape. “Hurry!”

  Diana was panting as they reached the top of the steps. Yi-kin had rushed on ahead of her, but she shouted after him, “Wait, Yi-kin.”

  He paused and turned back as she unslung her bag from her good shoulder and dug out the stick of dynamite.

  Yi-kin saw it and stopped. “Here?”

  She nodded toward the bottom of the stairs, where the lizard men were coming up. “Down there, to be precise.”

  “It not blow us up, too?”

  “It might. But I’d rather die in a cave-in than on their altar.”

  She waited no longer. She pulled the fuse out as far as she could, prayed the explosive hadn’t been in Mac’s possession so long that it had degraded to uselessness, lit the end of the fuse and threw it down the staircase.

  “Go!” She pushed Yi-kin ahead of her.

  They ran up the stairs, Diana unconsciously counting. One…two…how long is that fuse?…three…the dynamite has gone bad…

  The explosion deafened them, and a second later a shock wave threw them to the ground. They waited for a second as rubble rained down, half-expecting to be buried any second, but finally the echoes of sound died away. They picked themselves up hesitantly; pebbles continued to pelt them from overhead, and a dust cloud showed in the gloom behind them.

  The opening to the staircase was gone. There was nothing there now but a solid wall of boulders and dirt.

  Diana turned and saw Yi-kin saying something; she couldn’t hear him, but his grin made his meaning clear.

  She choked on dust then, shook some out of her hair, and motioned him forward.

  The way ahead of them seemed blessedly clear, and soon they were in the final passage before they could make the opening.

  Suddenly one of the things stepped from around a shadowed corner and clutched at her arm, wrenching the torch from Diana’s hand.

  Taken by surprised, she instinctively lashed out and felt a fist connect with scale-covered tissue. She screamed, but couldn’t hear her own voice and knew Yi-kin, who’d been in the lead and unwittingly gone past the thing, was deafened as well. It hissed and fell back long enough for Diana to duck and roll under its arm and recover her torch. As it hissed and recovered, she swung upwards with the torch, and thrust it into the creatures mouth against the long, thin tongue. The thing screamed inhumanly as its tongue caught fire, becoming a flaming whip in the dark cave.

  She ran past it, and saw a spot of sunlight at the end of the tunnel, Yi-kin silhouetted before it.

  Just a little farther.

  They flung their torches down and stumbled into the sunlight. But, it was late afternoon already, and there wasn’t much time before darkness would be upon them.

  Diana was blinking in the sunlight, and it took her a few seconds to realize Yi-kin was saying something and looking at her shoulder. She just made out the words, “…you are hurt!”

  She was, but there was no time for that now. She wanted to be sure this cave became a tomb for the Lizard People; she knew she had to seal this entrance.

  She went to the horses, and dug the two remaining sticks of dynamite out of the satchel. Yi-kin watched her, and she saw the question on his face.

  “We have to seal that cave.”

  “You not have to shout.”

  Together, Yi-kin took the sticks and placed them just inside the cave mouth. He straightened out the fuses, dug a matchbox out of a pocket, and turned to Diana. “You get on horse now. These fuses not long.”

  She nodded, and climbed onto her horse.

  Yi-kin crouched to light fuse—and fell back as a clawed hand darted out of the cave opening.

  “Yi-kin, light the fuses!”

  He recovered, struck the match, and placed the flame to each fuse. The fuses started to spark and sizzle, crawling toward the dynamite.

  Yi-kin ran to his horse, leapt onto it, and screamed, “Jau la!”

  They rode like hell, hoping the fuses didn’t go out. Hoping they would kill the last of the Lizard People. Hoping they wouldn’t die themselves.


  They were a good distance away when the ravine thundered and crumpled in on either side of them. Their horses neighed wildly and drew up short, pawing frantically, but they were far enough away that only dust came down on them. When it had settled and the horses had calmed, they looked at each other.

  “Miss Diana…?”

  “I’m fine.”

  Mina poked her head out of Yi-kin’s backpack and meowed.

  They rode back a short distance, but couldn’t go far—the entire cliff face around the cave mouth had tumbled down and blocked the stream and the ravine. Yi-kin nonetheless dismounted, to make sure the way was completely blocked. He passed the backpack to Diana, who made sure Mina was uninjured. As Diana stroked her reassuringly, the cat vibrated with pleasure.

  Yi-kin soon reappeared. “No cave now,” he said.

  “Mat ye a?” Diana asked, then looked at his face, covered in light brown dirt, his hair wildly spiked, his clothes shredded…and she burst into laughter.

  Chapter XXI

  July 2—July 17, 1880

  Los Angeles, United States

  By the time they’d returned to the hotel their hearing had come back, but Diana was in the grip of infection-induced fever. They found new puncture marks in her shoulder, apparently made by the claws of a lizard demon, and she reckoned that as the source of her toxins, rather than the buckshot wounds. She wasn’t sure if they’d truly destroyed the last of the Lizard People or not, but either way they’d nearly killed Diana in the end.

  The fever was virulent, and her temperature was a few points above a hundred for well over a week. The hotel was able to send for a fine doctor, who gave Yi-kin specific instructions on caring for her.

  During that week, she decided that she desperately wanted to be home; she had wearied of travel and hot weather, and absurd prejudices, and illness without the comfort of her own bed; she felt weakened and drained of fortitude. She informed Yi-kin that they would skip the northwest gateway, in favor of heading east across America as quickly as possible, where they would catch a ship bound for home across the Atlantic. However, there was that gateway in West Virginia, and she reckoned since it wouldn’t take them far out of their way, they would stop long enough to seal it.

  While Diana continued her recuperation, Yi-kin made their travel arrangements, which would involve a combination of rail and stagecoach. The railroads would take them east from Los Angeles as far as New Mexico; from there it would be horsedrawn coach through various Indian territories, with occasional short journeys on smaller rail lines. They would cross the great Mississippi River on a steamboat, and eventually arrive in the small town of Cedar Grove, West Virginia, where the gateway was said to be located “near the frog rock by the river’s side.”

  On July 17, with Diana’s recuperation accomplished, their tickets purchased, and absolutely no sign of the lizard people whatsoever, they gladly left California behind and journeyed east.

  Chapter XXII

  July 17—August 3, 1880

  Los Angeles—Cedar Grove, United States

  The trip east proved to be both happily uneventful and surprisingly interesting. They passed through the savage Western frontier, with its peeling wooden towns and breathtaking natural vistas; they traversed the mighty Rockies, whose upper peaks were snow-covered even in the height of summer; they rode the coaches across the Great Plains, which Diana knew had once been covered by herds of shaggy buffalo and handsome Indian braves on bare horseback. They gambled on the Mississippi steamboat, and Yi-kin actually won. They got kicked off the steamboat when the white gamblers realized they’d been beaten by “John.” They passed one-time great plantations, now divided up and farmed by the black men who, not long ago, had worked the same fields as slaves.

  At last the trip brought them to their destination, a tiny town in the West Virginia countryside called Cedar Grove. The town, which consisted of little more than a general store (which also served as the coach stop), a saloon, a church and a few houses, lacked even an inn; Diana was told by the proprietor of the general store that a Mrs. Mills on the outskirts of town had a big old farmhouse and was always happy to rent a few rooms.

  They stored the luggage in town and walked to Mrs. Mills’ place, which turned out to be a very comfortable and clean two-story house adjacent to a large barn and small garden. Mrs. Mills was a kindly woman in her fifties, who lived only with her ancient hound dog, Josie, and she seemed as happy to have company as to take Diana’s money for two rooms. Josie and Mina sniffed each other briefly, then Mina strode haughtily off to Diana’s side, while Josie’s head dropped back to drowsing on the rug by the fireplace. As usual, Yi-kin tensed when attention turned to him, and she asked what kind of “Injun” he was. When informed that he was Chinese, not Indian, Mrs. Mills was genuinely thrilled; she told him she’d never met a real Oriental before, and she deluged him with questions about his country—how big it was, what the people ate, how they dressed, if they liked music (she did). He was pleased to find an American at last who didn’t wonder why he wasn’t working with the other coolies on the railroads, or running a laundry in one of the cities.

  After getting settled into the rooms (which were plain and simple, but very clean and spacious), Diana and Yi-kin enjoyed a farm dinner with their host, who celebrated their arrival by killing a chicken, and preparing a fine repast of roast chicken, potatoes, corn, bread, and apple pie for them. Mrs. Mills was also an excellent cook, and Diana thought it easily the best meal she’d had in the United States.

  While they ate, she regaled Mrs. Mills with questions of her own, and received some most interesting answers: Mrs. Mills was a widow who’d lost her husband in the Civil War fifteen years earlier, and they never had children; now she survived by her garden and renting the occasional room. Yes, she’d experienced many strange goings-on in the area, and yes, she’d personally encountered the huge insect-man mentioned in connection with the local gateway.

  “One night,” she told Diana, “I’d been down to my sister’s place and I was comin’ home on my horse, Bonnie. It got to be late—I figure it for ‘bout two in the morning—but I didn’t want to stop nowhere else, and anyway I wasn’t far from home then, maybe fifteen minutes. I was ridin’ Bonnie ‘long a road not far from here, when I heard this sound, like big wings. Well, I look up overhead, and I ‘bout died right there—not ten feet above me is this thing soarin’ along, keepin’ pace with Bonnie. At first I thought, That’s the biggest dern bird I ever seen, but then I saw it had arms! I know it sounds crazy, but I swear, this thing had arms just like you or me! And the eyes…I’ll never forget the eyes: Bright red, glowin’ in the night they was, and huge, big as my fist.”

  She held up her hand for comparison, then continued:

  “Well, it flew over me for a few seconds, and I don’t mind tellin’ you I was scared putnert to death. So I spurred poor Bonnie on harder, but that thing had no trouble keepin’ up, no matter how fast Bonnie ran. I thought sure it would try to grab me right off the saddle, but then we came in sight of the house here, and Josie ran out barkin’ up a storm, and that flying thing just turned away and disappeared. That was five years ago this October, and I ain’t seen it since…and I hope I never see it again!”

  Diana and Yi-kin offered their sympathies, then asked Mrs. Mills if she could identify the frog rock described in The Book of Gateways, Conjurations and Banishments, and she nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, land, yes, everyone hereabouts knows that place. It’s maybe fifteen minutes walk from here.”

  Yi-kin and Diana exchanged a look of both triumph and anxiety—it was evening now, too late in the day to venture out to the spot, which meant spending the night in an isolated farmhouse nearby to a gateway.

  They helped Mrs. Mills clean up after dinner (despite her protests), and then she retired to her own room; she was an early riser, she told them, but they were welcome to stay up as late as they liked and sleep in as long as they wished.

  Diana and Yi-kin sat in the homey li
ving room by the hearth after she left, discussing their options. They finally decided to prepare their own rooms, and dress them with whatever protections they could—lamps left burning (some voice deep inside her warned—to protect against demons), garlic, rosemary twigs. They left their doors slightly ajar, so that calls for help could be heard. Diana took the iron-bladed knife and set it carefully by her bedside, and Mina positioned herself at the foot of the bed.

  Diana was certain she’d never be able to rest, but the enticements of Mrs. Mills’ crisp, sweet-scented sheets and the comfortable mattress proved too much, and she was soon fast asleep.

  When she awoke, she knew someone else was in the room with her.

  She was very tired, and it was difficult to even open her eyes. The first thing she noticed was the fire had burned down to embers in the fireplace, so she knew she’d been asleep for several hours. Some inner alarm was ringing in her skull, and her stomach was clenched in anxiety—and yet Mina slept soundly on a nearby chair, curled up on Diana’s cast-off clothing. The house was quiet, and she was certain she’d awakened from a bad dream—

  —when she saw the figure in the corner.

  She didn’t stop to examine it, she merely opened her mouth to cry out for help, and in the split second it took her to draw in breath, she heard a voice say her name:

  “Diana.”

  Any breath she’d taken froze in her throat. She knew that voice. It couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible. And even if it was—why here, in a farmhouse in West Virginia?

  No, it couldn’t be—

  “It’s me, William.”

  Diana’s breath suddenly left her in a rush, coming out as a choked sob. “William—”

  The figure stepped into the dim light from her bedside lamp, and there was no question—it was her William, looking just as she had last seen him, young, strong and so beautiful. He stepped closer and Diana saw his own features quivering with emotion.