The First Demon (Cards of Death Book 1)

by Tamara Geraeds

  “I think we have enough.” Instead of vanishing, he just turns and walks into the hallway. I watch them all go, my eyebrows raised in surprise. He was proud. Not like a teacher, but like a father. That somehow makes me feel even better. I am doing the right thing.

  After finishing the second floor, I climb the stairs to the attic. “I can’t believe how big this house is,” I whisper to myself when I find four more rooms and a bathroom. Unlike the rooms on the second floor, these are all empty. There’s dust and cobwebs everywhere, but I don’t mind. I feel like I can handle anything from earth now. Nothing is scary compared to a giant icicle spitting demon. I shiver when I think of the journey we’re about to make. It’s hard to imagine us going to a world I only saw in the movies. If that is all real, what else is? Trolls, elves?

  I laugh out loud. “Let’s not get carried away.”

  I sprinkle salt under the skylight in the annex and repeat the spell. My spine tingles and I go back downstairs, where I rapidly protect the last of the windows and doors.

  Vicky pops up next to me, making me jump.

  “Jeez!”

  “Sorry,” she says with a smile. She hands me the jar filled with herbs. “You have to put this in the middle of the house. I suggest one of the cupboards under the stairs on the second floor.”

  I laugh. “The cupboard under the stairs? What if there’s a boy in it?”

  Her eyes twinkle. “Then you cut off his head.”

  I open my eyes wide, my muscles tightening. I almost take a step back when she grabs my arm and leans towards me. “I’m just kidding. We could use someone like Harry on the team.”

  “I bet you could teach him a trick or two.”

  Her breath caresses my cheek and I fight the urge to lean forward.

  “I sure could,” she says. Then she straightens up. “But back to business. We have to hurry. When the jar is in place, carve a pentacle into the floor and wall of the east, west, north and south side of the house. Like this.” She shows me a drawing of two stars with circles around them and a line between them that indicates the bottom of the wall. “Make sure no one can erase them.”

  “Yes ma’am,” I say and hurry upstairs with the jar. I choose the middle cupboard at the back of the stairs, trying to get as close to the center of the house as I can. Then I get a screwdriver from the toolkit I brought and go into the second floor annex. I ignore the mess, but it still gives me the chills. A tight feeling wraps around my chest as I notice the shadow on the floor, where the demon lay in the dust. I fought a demon. I almost died.

  With a sigh I turn away. There’s no time to think about this now. I have to move on, I can’t let fear get a hold of me.

  I scratch a pentacle in the wall between the windows opposite the broken bed, and one directly beneath it in the floor. I do the same in the bedroom above the front door, which is Vicky’s by the looks of it. I didn’t notice just now, when I was sprinkling salt at the window, but the walls are black with light blue whisks on them. A non-transparent Vicky standing in front of a church smiles at me from a picture frame. She looks almost like she does now, only happier, and there’s more color in her face. Her hair is a smooth black. No blonde tips yet.

  I turn around. It feels wrong being here without Vicky. As if I’m spying on her. So I move on. The bathroom is next. The wall is not easy to reach, but I manage. Just one more to go.

  I go into one of the back rooms, which I remember being a storeroom. It is filled to the brim with useless stuff. Old chairs, chests laden with books, a typewriter, a rolled-up carpet, some paintings. The back wall is lined with heavy closets. When I open one of them, my mouth falls open. It contains an arsenal of weapons. Knives, swords, shields, guns, even crossbows. I feel like I’ve stepped into an adventure game. Now I know where the ghosts got the shield and the sword. They could have told me about this, though, I could have used a weapon earlier.

  My hand shoots out to touch the blade of one of the swords. Blood wells up immediately. I shake my head incredulously. I should put some of this in Phoenix’s trunk.

  But not now. I’ve got to finish this spell and then I have a dangerous journey ahead of me. I look around. Not even a corner of the wall is visible. Moving all of these things will take ages, so I decide to try the other room.

  When I step inside, I immediately notice the album covers on the walls. Records by Eric Clapton, The Beatles, Nirvana. On the wall next to the door there’s a large picture of a guitar. I frown. Whose room is this? Did one of the ghosts play the guitar?

  On either side of the window there’s a nightstand. Between them there’s just enough space for a single bed. It looks like a normal teenage room. Could it be Taylar’s?

  I try to move one of the nightstands, but it’s really heavy. The other one doesn’t budge, either. I try the bed instead, but no luck there. Then I see the problem: everything is bolted to the floor. I’ll have to roll under the bed to reach the wall.

  I move forward on my belly and carve the pentacles under the bed. When I crawl back, I bump my head against the base frame. A picture tumbles to the ground. It looks like Taylar, when he was about eight years old. I turn onto my back and my gaze locks onto something wedged between the slats. Before I can stop myself, I’ve pulled it out. There’s an envelope with more pictures, and a letter.

  “Dante? Where are you?” Vicky calls from the hallway.

  I shove everything back as fast as I can. “In here.”

  When I reach the end of the bed, Vicky is looking at me with her hands on her waist and her eyebrows touching her hair. “What are you doing?”

  I wave at her with the screwdriver. “Carving the last pentacles.”

  She smiles. “Oh, good. We’re ready downstairs. Let’s go.”

  I dive back into the storeroom, taking out a large knife. “I might need this.”

  She nods. “Good thinking.”

  We walk downstairs together.

  The Shield is boiling something in a kettle I didn’t know I had. There’s bubbling mush in it. “So, how does this work?”

  D’Maeo quickly explains it to me and hands me the spells and sigil I’ll need.

  “Why can’t you do it?” I ask, scanning the page.

  “All worlds are connected and because we’re unstable beings, we run the risk of getting sucked into the wrong one.”

  My head jerks up. “Wait, how many worlds are there?”

  He just stares at me. “It’s dangerous for ghosts to open portals.”

  “And it’s not for me?”

  “Of course it is, just less dangerous.” He winks.

  “Great. But we’re all going together, right?”

  They all nod.

  I take a deep breath and stick my finger in the muddy substance in the kettle.

  “You are saving the wrong person,” a familiar voice says in my head.

  I shake my head. “No, I’m not.”

  “You should be saving him.”

  “Mr. Timson can wait.”

  “No, he can’t. The safety of the world depends on it.”

  I sigh. The Shield is looking at me with questions in their eyes. I point at my head. “It’s the voice again.”

  Jeep leans forward, scanning the air around me. “What does it want?”

  “The same. It says we don’t have time to save Maël.”

  D’Maeo rubs the back of his neck. “Maybe we should listen.”

  “We can save that man when we have Maël back.” I crouch down in the hallway and start drawing a circle.

  The voice is louder this time, making me jump. “Go now, Dante. Save him.”

  I yell out in frustration. “I am not leaving Maël! She is part of my Shield.”

  “You can find a new soul for your Shield.”

  I stand up, fuming. My hands are balled into fists. The ghosts simultaneously step back.

  “Stop telling me what to do. We are going after Maël, whether you like it or n
ot. The longer you argue with me, the longer it will take us to get to Mr. Timson.”

  The voice falls silent. But it’s back as soon as I pick up the athame the Shield places before me. It speaks much softer now. “Please, Dante. Please trust me. Nothing in the world is more important than this.”

  “Trust you?” I yell. “How can I trust you when I don’t even know who or what you are?”

  “Look into your heart.”

  I wave the athame through the air irritably. “Stop feeding me all this bullshit. Just show yourself, tell me what you want and why, and maybe I’ll trust you.”

  “I can’t do that, Dante. Not yet.”

  “SHOW YOURSELF!”

  I’m so angry that I’m panting. My fists ache from the force of squeezing them together.

  There’s only silence and Jeep nods for me to continue.

  “We are saving this Mr. Timson as soon as we have Maël back. She has to be safe first.” I hold out the piece of paper with the first spell and frown at the old ghost. “I always thought spells were all in Latin.”

  D’Maeo shakes his head. “Those are only for people without magical powers. People with a sixth sense. They need the power of Latin words. We don’t.”

  “Oh good,” I say. My voice is still thick with anger.

  I take a deep breath. I know these spells require full concentration.

  Banning all thoughts of the voice out of my head, I read the words.

  “I conjure the Circle of Power,

  by my will and by my word,

  a boundary between the worlds;

  a space to cross unheard.

  I conjure the Circle of Power,

  to shelter us from evil matter,

  keep us safe within these borders,

  bring us back before we shatter.”

  A howling wind moves through the hallway. It rattles the floorboards within the circle.

  I pick up the other piece of paper and look at the sigil again. It’s comprised of three two-way arrows forming a triangle. Shouldn’t be a problem.

  I raise the athame. It has a dark wooden hilt with a pentacle carved into it, and the blade is formed like a bolt of lightning. I push the tip of the weapon into the palm of my hand without hesitation. Blood wells up and I dip the blade in it. A few seconds later, the red of the sigil I drew gleams up at us from the middle of the circle. I fix my gaze on the triangle.

  “Open a door through time and space,

  take us from this earthly place,

  seal the door against the dark,

  until we return with the mark.”

  I jam the athame into the sigil with force and a spark shoots into the air. I jump back instinctively. I expect someone to snigger, but the Shield is quiet. They are all looking intently at the circle. The air is thick with anticipation. Is this the first time they attempted to open a portal?

  The wind picks up again, and it takes the athame with it. It swirls around above the circle. The air inside turns darker. Black smoke rises from the sigil, reaching towards us like claws. A loud hissing tears at my eardrums.

  I take another step back, walking straight through Taylar, who is standing there with wide eyes and his mouth open. Cold grabs my chest and makes my knees buckle.

  “Stay strong.” D’Maeo straightens his back. “All of you. This is just the beginning. It will be worse once we step through.”

  My whole body is screaming at me to back out of this, but the thought of Maël, in there fighting alone, keeps me focused. Ignoring the cold, I turn to D’Maeo. “What is the mark?”

  He looks confused.

  “The mark I mentioned in the spell? We need it to get back, right?”

  “Oh! Yes. It’s the mark you made with the athame. Once we get back to the portal, you just press the palm of your hand against it, and it will open. Unless we stay too long in the Shadow World and the wound heals.”

  “Well, don’t worry, I don’t intend on staying long.”

  “No one ever does.”

  Duly noted. Vicky told me that time works differently there. I hope that doesn’t mean every minute is a day on earth, because then we will certainly be too late. I also realize the ghosts need me to get back here. Without my mark, they will be stuck in the Shadow World.

  The smoke has formed a solid black circle in the air. I was expecting terrifying sounds to come from it, screaming or growling or something. But the silence is probably even worse. It feels ominous, as if everything on the other side is waiting for us to step through. Waiting for a chance to pounce on us.

  D’Maeo gestures towards the circle. “You have to go first, Dante.”

  “Okay.” My voice is just a whisper. I’ve never been so scared in my life, not even when that ice demon attacked me. I can’t help thinking that, if that thing could send Maël in here, then what else are we going to find? What else do we have to fight?

  Vicky puts her hand on my arm. “We’re right behind you. And you’ve got something to defend yourself with.” With her head she indicates the knife tucked behind my waistband. “Don’t worry, we’ll be fine. We’ll get her back.” Her eyes are clouding over, and I know she’s influencing me, putting courage into my heart and erasing the fear.

  I put my hand over hers. It feels as cold as the portal. “Don’t take it all. Fear is what keeps people from doing irrational things.”

  She smiles at me and her eyes turn back to their normal blue.

  I turn my head back towards the portal, grab onto the knife tightly and step forward.

  CHAPTER 18

  At first I don’t see anything. Everything is bathed in a thick fog. The cold grabs onto my body instantly. It feels like an evil being is trying to drag me into death. The silence is overwhelming. I lift my finger and poke it into my ear, but still… no sound.

  A scent of danger hangs in the air. It’s like a combination of sulfur, bleach and rotten eggs.

  I squint, trying to distinguish something, anything, through the mist.

  A chill spreads through my body, not because of the cold, but because someone, or something, is approaching. I grip my knife tighter and turn slowly in every direction. Every hair I’ve got is standing up and sweat slowly works its way down my back. Nausea creeps towards my throat.

  What’s keeping the Shield so long? Why aren’t they here? Did something go wrong? The thought of going on alone makes my legs wobble.

  I swallow. The sound is like a gunshot and I grit my teeth.

  The feeling that something is coming towards me intensifies. Somehow I know it is no longer alone.

  I turn around again, faster this time. The knife in my outstretched hand is shaking. Maybe I should have let Vicky erase a bit more of my fear.

  A scream in the distance freezes me on the spot. Several voices answer it. I feel like I’m standing in a haunted cemetery.

  The fog fans out a bit, and finally I see something.

  I immediately wish I hadn’t. A white face leans towards me. Cold fingers touch the skin of my neck. I want to plunge the knife forward, but I’m still unable to move.

  Then suddenly I recognize the eyes.

  “Vicky?”

  “Hi,” she whispers.

  “Is it really you?” My gaze sweeps over her body. It’s solid. No trace of transparency.

  “It’s me. We’re all here.”

  The others appear behind her.

  I gape at them. “What happened? You all look so… real.”

  D’Maeo scans the surroundings before answering me. “We’re in a world between life and death. Bodies don’t matter here.”

  I brush my arms and trace the sides of my legs. “To you they might not, but I’m still pretty attached to mine.”

  Jeep steps forward. “What he means is that we’re all equal here. Our minds are more important than our bodies.”

  “So I can’t really get hurt?”

  He shakes his head. “Not physically. But that doesn�
�t mean you can’t die here.”

  So much for losing my fear.

  “What took you so long anyway?” I sound irritated, but they choose not to pay attention to it.

  D’Maeo waves his hand around. “As I said, time works differently in the Shadow World. How long have you been standing here?”

  “A couple of minutes.”

  “Did something happen? Did you see something?”

  I shake my head. “The fog just lifted a bit. It felt like something was sneaking up on me, but I guess that was just you guys.”

  He looks around, apprehensive. “Let’s hope so.”

  “We followed through the portal only a second after you vanished,” Vicky assures me.

  I nod and suppress a shiver. “We should find Maël as soon as we can. I have a bad feeling about this place.”

  Jeep snorts. “We did tell you.”

  “Yes, but Maël is more important than a bad feeling, isn’t she?”

  They can’t argue with that, so we set off in a random direction. Everything looks the same here, and I’m already losing hope of ever finding Maël, but I’m not willing to say that aloud.

  We walk silently for a while. The fog is just as thick any way we turn, and the whole air vibrates with evil. I keep an eye on everyone, afraid to lose them. It could happen in a second.

  We’ve been walking through the same empty landscape for minutes when something changes. It’s not just the sky and ground that are different, but also the atmosphere. The fog felt ominous, but the black patches that now move above us wake-up all of my senses. My footsteps are no longer silent. They produce a crunching noise that makes me sick, but my feet are still wrapped in mist.

  Like me, the others slow down without a word. We don’t know whether to run or stand still.

  Until a strange rattling sound stops us dead. We all scan the emptiness around us. The rattling gets louder and is joined by clicking. It doesn’t take me long to realize we are surrounded. But by what creatures? Is this what the dead sound like?

  Then the cawing starts and we all know what we’re dealing with.

  “Crows?” I say incredulously. “Really?”