by Marie Browne
‘Dragons?’ I looked around and laughed putting on a querulous incredulous voice. ‘There be dragons here?’
‘Sorry, Joe, not any more.’ Belial looked off to the horizon. ‘Like the dinosaurs on your world, they’d pretty much eaten everything available and were dying by the thousand. It’s a sad and ignoble death for such a beautiful creature to starve to a sack of scales and bones and then just keel over and die. When Hell was created there were less than a hundred left and humans, having moved ahead of the ice in the lower levels, were attempting to kill them. Neither side were doing very well and we really wanted their land. We offered them relocation for their whole species on the understanding that they never came back here. Well, as you can imagine, they jumped at the chance. Some went to Earth, some went to other worlds. They thrived and learnt to live in their new environments. Over the years they learnt to change shape and mated with the new force – humans – hence Melusine’s father.’
‘So let me get this straight.’ I couldn’t stop a giggle from escaping. ‘Melusine is part fairy, part fish and part lizard?’
Belial grimaced then nodded. ‘Yes, I suppose she is and if you ever decide to point that out to her, please, please tell me first so I can come and watch her reaction, eh?’
I imagined for a moment what that reaction might be and shut up.
‘Erm, Dad?’ Carly’s voice quavered slightly. She nudged Belial and nodded toward a handful of silent forms that waited, armed and watchful.
The small group stood, sat and squatted on top of a large pile of rocks. They studied us in silence as we wandered through the desolate landscape. I wondered how long they’d been there.
‘Just carry on walking,’ Belial muttered.
Three figures began to climb from the tall black rocks. Two men and one woman walked confidently toward us; they seemed at ease but I noticed all had weapons to hand. Dreadlocks decorated with beads, small spirals of metal, coloured clays and carved bones clinked and clacked as they moved. However, I felt this gentle chiming was deliberate as they approached on absolutely silent feet. The weapons they carried looked handmade – designed to be quick and brutal rather than any attempt at pleasingly aesthetic. Axes, long spears and short, wide knives seemed to be the main weapons of choice.
Rough, woven cloth had been made into simple trousers and tunics; two of them were barefoot, the other sported a pair of ancient green Nike running shoes and a very large, richly decorated watch hung, oversized, from his skinny wrist.
It was obvious we weren’t going to pass unchallenged. I rolled my shoulders, making sure my knife was loose in its sheath then put my hands into my pockets, threading my fingers through the holes in the ’dusters. Moving to the rear of our little party, I focused on the one that was obviously the leader. Positioning myself for a clear shot I waited to see what would happen.
A small dark man detached himself from the group and, handing his long bladed spear to the woman, he padded across the parched earth, his smile wide and his dirty hands held carefully in plain view.
I sighed. I’d picked entirely the wrong man as the leader. Feeling myself reddening slightly I tried to nonchalantly slide back to stand beside Graham who grinned at me. Damn, I didn’t think he’d have noticed.
‘Hey, hey.’ The little man smiled, his long moustache bending around cracked lips and gnarled dark teeth. ‘What can we do for you out here in the dry lands? You lost?’
‘No, no.’ Belial put his hand up to show that he too bore no weapons. ‘Looking for meat – dried meat. We’re travelling, don’t want to eat in town.’
‘Bright man.’ The little guy spoke with what seemed to be a Spanish accent. He studied us for a moment as he wrapped a long dirty dreadlock around his finger. ‘What you got that we want, eh?’
‘Ah, my friend.’ Belial stepped forward. ‘For a little bit of meat I can make you powerful.’
The rest of the group, confident that nothing untoward was likely to happen, clambered down from the rocks and gathered around the little hunter. They raised weapons as Belial moved. He stopped immediately and held up both hands, palms facing out.
‘I am Andre.’ The leader motioned for his pack to back off. ‘I like anyone who says they can make me rich.’
‘I think I mentioned powerful,’ Belial said. ‘Not rich.’
‘Power, riches, they all come creeping out of the same burrow, eh? They each are the other and one does not exist without its friend.’ The little man nodded sagely as though he’d just shared some great knowledge. ‘So what you got, tall man?’ He grinned happily up at Belial. ‘A name would be a good start.’
Belial put his hand over his heart. ‘Rimmon,’ he said. ‘We have the urge to head into the ice lands and see what we find.’
The group of hunters laughed until Andre waved a hand at them. ‘You’ll find it bloody cold is what you’ll find.’ He rubbed his moustache and, while seeming to watch Belial, flicked glances over the rest of us. ‘But I like a fool – even a dead fool – so show me how you’re going to make me envied and powerful before you go and throw your miserable life away in the cold.’
Belial made a show of searching through his pockets, eventually bringing out a small leather bag. He shook it enticingly at Andre then poured some of the contents into his palm.
Andre bit his lip. I noticed that the hand stroking his long facial hair moved, just fractionally, faster.
Andre could also act to the crowd. He peered into Belial’s hand with a sneer then, shrugging, he shook his head in disappointment. ‘Diamonds?’ He sounded bored.
Belial nodded then poked them around his palm with a finger. ‘Made by humans. These diamonds are stronger, denser and much more useful than anything you’d dig out of a hole.’
The little hunter shrugged. ‘Meat’s hard to come by out here, and I’ve got to find a buyer for those.’ He shook his head. ‘Lots of problems for me, man.’
‘Well, I do have one that’s a little special.’ Belial shook the leather bag until a large white stone fell into his palm. At its heart was a blue star.
‘Right.’ Andre laughed around at his friends. ‘Special.’
Tipping all the other stones into the bag Belial held up the large diamond between his thumb and forefinger. ‘This is a memorial diamond.’ Belial tossed the stone into the air, then snatched and pocketed it as it fell. ‘Created from the carbon in the cremated remains of human bodies it still holds the memories of the one that died.’ He grinned at the little man. ‘It’s so much easier to steal someone’s identity when you have their memories being whispered into your head.’ He stole a look at Andre then shrugged slowly. ‘But I can see you’re not impressed. Never mind, we’ll chance the food in town.’
‘No, no. Wait, wait.’ Andre nodded to the woman who sashayed over holding a large package wrapped in an oiled material. She smiled at Belial, looking up at him from under her dusty lashes. Andre frowned, grabbed the package then pushed the woman away. ‘I don’t really want the diamond, but we’ve been talking for so long, I almost consider you a friend.’ He held his hand out and gave Belial a toothy grin. ‘I’ll take it off your hands and I’ll give you over the normal amount of barter for it.’ He weighed the pack of meat in his hands. ‘One thing …’
Belial hesitated as he reached for the package and raised his eyebrows.
‘You get any more of those diamonds, you bring them to me first, right?’ Andre refused to relinquish the package of meat. ‘Because I consider you a friend, which round here is almost the same as a brother – man, you’re nearly family. I wouldn’t want a family member to look bad by offering this rubbish to everyone. Someone might take offence.’
Belial nodded. ‘I can see that … I wouldn’t want to embarrass family. Deal?’
Andre let go of the package with a grin then spat into the earth at Belial’s feet. Belial copied the action.
The niceties and the after-business chat lasted for another half an hour or so and Carly, obviously used to how these th
ings went down in any world, made tea and offered tiny cups of the strong liquid to all members of each party. As she walked by, one man – the one with the Nikes and the bling watch – reached out and grabbed a handful of her bright red hair.
At her startled yelp I headed toward them, but Andre turned and barked an order at the big man, who dropped her hair and shuffled backward looking like a chastised child. ‘Fire,’ he said quietly.
Eventually, with all the rituals completed, we were on our way again. As the hunters walked away from us Graham called out, ‘Hey, Belial, what was that with the diamonds?’ Andre stopped dead and turned slowly to watch us walk away.
‘Fucking shut up!’ Belial turned and swore at Graham who looked confused.
I grabbed Belial’s arm. ‘Not Graham,’ I said. ‘He was gone for just a split second.’
‘Damn Lucifer,’ Belial cursed quietly. ‘Why would he do that?’ Irritated, he carried on walking, ever so slightly picking up the pace.
Pretending ignorance of the renewed interest from the hunter and his group, we followed him.
CHAPTER 10
IT WAS THE SMELL and the noise that heralded the real city limits. Carried on the swirling winds, the well-known stink of food simultaneously cooking and rotting, effluent and other, even less savoury smells, made us gag and cough with each pass of the oddly erratic breezes. Repetitive shouts, at first distant, described weapons and foodstuffs, alchemy, whores for sale, true prophesies or fortunes, wards or spells and a thousand other items. It really was bedlam.
The city was black. Not from dirt or neglect – although there was certainly enough of that. Each structure, be it house, store or bar, was carved from the basalt hills that stood in the centre of these levels of Hell. The dull, pitted black rock absorbed all light and, due to the odd column-like formation of the rocks, each building appeared to lean at a distressing angle. Despite the bustling energy of those that we passed, each street seemed to struggle under the weight of its heritage and reputation.
Eventually Carly tugged at her father’s arm. ‘We need to rest,’ she said. ‘Parity is finding her new life a bit of a burden.’
I looked back. Parity, her arm over Graham’s shoulders, winced with each step, her face contorted in pain.
Belial nodded and turned to the struggling girl. ‘Parity, can you tell me where would be safe to stay?’
The exhausted seer took a deep breath and tried to stand upright. ‘It’s difficult to see,’ she said. ‘I have to sleep.’ Her legs buckled and Graham barely caught her as she fell. ‘I’ve not needed to sleep for over 500 years.’ Her voice faded as her eyelids closed.
Keril walked over. ‘Let me take her,’ he said. ‘She’ll be no burden to me.’
Belial shook his head. ‘Damn,’ he said. ‘Obviously life is not a good aid to concentration.’
Graham nodded vaguely, and although obviously relieved to be able to walk unhindered, his eyes never left Parity’s face.
After studying two or three buildings that looked like taverns Belial stopped before a tall door that was only marginally less disreputable than the others around it. A painted plaque on the wall stated this was “The Fat Maggot”. A deathly white, rollie-pollie grub stared blankly down at us from the sign; some wag had painted four wobbly stars beneath its distended belly.
Belial stared up at the sign for a moment. ‘Well, at least someone’s got a sense of humour,’ he said.
We pushed cautiously through the tall metal door listening intently for the sounds of shouting or breaking crockery; both were mercifully absent. The inside looked like every cheap hotel I’d ever seen. A faded, red wool runner ran from the door to the desk, behind which sat a woman with fluffy grey hair. After a moment of obvious suspicion she gave us a big smile.
‘Hello, hello,’ she said, her voice strangely deep. ‘Welcome to the Fat Maggot.’ Heaving herself to her feet she waved us forward. ‘Would you like rooms?’
Belial nodded. ‘Yes, one common room if you have it.’
‘Certainly.’ Her double chin wobbled as she smiled and I noticed that although two or three of her teeth were missing, the rest were white and clean; she wasn’t what I’d expected.
‘You’re lucky to get a room with the festival being about to start. We only have one with a communal bathroom – will that be all right?’
‘Yes!’ Carly raised her voice from the back of the group. ‘Definitely.’
The woman laughed – a great booming sound. ‘Been a bit of a trip, has it?’ She patted a big book that was open on the desk. ‘If you’d like to sign in, I’ll get someone to go up and light a fire for you.’
‘This is our first visit for a very long time.’ Belial stopped her with a hand. ‘Are the payment arrangements still the same?’
The woman nodded and laughed again. Her podgy hands rested on her hips and the rings on her fat fingers glittered in the candlelight. ‘Haven’t ever changed,’ she said. ‘Tektite, food or barter – which would you like to use?’
Carly dragged over a large rucksack and Belial, after a moment’s searching, took out a small velvet box. ‘What do you think of this?’ He opened the box. There was a slight creak from the snap hinges and the woman leant forward with a sneer.
The owner of the Fat Maggot stared into the box then raised her eyebrows. ‘Not what I’m usually offered.’ She picked up a single glass lens and, raising it to her eye, peered through it into the box. ‘What is it?’ She took out the small quartz crystal ball and held it up to the flickering light from the cheap fatty candles that burned in sconces all round the room. They smelt fairly rank and each one gave off a slightly greasy smoke that gathered like the wrath of God near the stained ceiling.
As she moved, the light caught the occlusions and cracks inside the small ball, sending rainbow waves throughout the orb. Captivated by the colours the woman gasped as she spotted the water trapped deep within the crystal matrix. As she tilted the ball it could clearly be seen moving from one chamber to another. Fearing she’d already let her interest show, the woman bit her lip.
Belial smiled and leant nonchalantly on the desk. ‘It’s said that if you stare into the ball long enough you’ll begin to see pictures and from those pictures you can tell the future.’
The woman gave no indication of having heard him and continued to stare mesmerised into the glistening facets deep within the crystal. Eventually she shook her head, placed the lens back under the desk and, with one quick movement, swept the ball into the pocket of her apron.
‘I’m Mama Gert.’ She was all business once more. ‘This will get all of you three nights’ sleep in clean beds, hot water and a communal pot.’
Belial coughed and held the open box toward her, ready to take back the ball.
Mama Gert took a step back and smiled. ‘… and, of course, tea each morning with bread and toppings.’
Belial nodded then, swapping the box for a long quill pen, he dipped it once into a pot of ink that seemed to have a greasy scum floating on the surface and turned to the book. In neat looping writing he signed it “Rimmon”. He studied the pen for a moment then shuddered and passed it back over the desk.
Mama Gert noticed his reaction and laughed. ‘Not keen on the pen, eh? Got it from our healer, who said he got it from an angel he’d helped. He had no money so he parted with this – a prize possession.’ She smiled down at the long white feather, its silver tips glowing yellow in the candlelight.
Carly frowned and moved forward to take a closer look at the feather. ‘An angel?’ She sounded sceptical.
Mama Gert snorted her big quivering laugh again and reached up to pat a few strays back into her fluffy ring of hair. ‘You don’t believe in angels, girl?’ She ran a fat hand down her flowered apron, pausing just for a moment to check that the ball was still safe in her pocket. ‘You’re mad if you don’t.’ Her eyes widened as she caught sight of Una peering, thumb in mouth, around Keril’s side. ‘You have a child with you?’
Keril put his arm
around Una’s skinny shoulders and pulled her closer to his warm scales. ‘Is that a problem?’ he asked.
The landlady stared at the little girl for a long moment, biting her lip. Eventually she gave us a big professional smile. ‘No, no, not at all.’ She reached behind the desk and came up with a large key. ‘It’s just so late, she must be exhausted, poor little thing.’
I noticed that her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.
Belial nodded and took the key. ‘We all are,’ he said. Moving decisively away he brought the conversation to a close. Keril nodded at Graham then at Parity. Swinging Una up onto his shoulder he kept a tight grip on her as he hurried after Belial.
Mama Gert continued to smile.
Belial watched Graham place Parity gently down onto a scruffy chaise then leant over toward me. ‘Angels cannot – absolutely cannot – pass the Acheron. She must be mistaken about that feather,’ he said. Scratching his head he turned to Keril. ‘No one is supposed to be able to get in or out of here. I was expecting to have to make up some fantastic story but she said there’s only one room left. How can that be? Who’s here and what festival was she talking about? I don’t remember hearing about any festivals …’
‘She seemed very interested in Una.’ I felt that Belial was missing the important point.
He nodded vaguely and went to stare into the flames.
The room was almost luxurious and the communal pot was not, as I feared, a large bucket in which we were all supposed to pee, but a rather tasty and savoury stew filled with unidentifiable meat, vegetables and herbs.
‘I wonder what this is?’ Carly poked a piece of meat on her plate. ‘It looks like beef and tastes like …’ she pondered for a moment ‘… I had kangaroo once in a restaurant, it sort of tastes like that.’
I desperately wanted to glance at Keril and wondered how many other people felt the same. I really hoped it wasn’t Drekavak stew.
Belial finished his meal then, after pushing the bowl away with a sigh, looked around the room.