First Plane

by Patti Larsen

  The guards formed a semi-circle around the next platform, another elevator by my guess, while we mounted the bouncing disc and waited for Pagomaris to do her thing.

  I nearly jumped out of my skin when a fanfare of what sounded like horns went off all around me as we rose majestically from the ground, the crowd below now waving and calling out with much more enthusiasm. I swallowed hard several times as the distance increased, having a hard time looking down. The view was brilliant, spectacular, but I had to turn sideways at last and look at Dad’s chest so I didn’t have to admit I was terrified.

  Cat claws caught my leg and I bent automatically to scoop Sassy up.

  “You can’t fall,” he whispered. “The whole platform is shielded. You could fling yourself at the edge and—”

  “Thanks for the visual,” I said.

  “I didn’t know you were afraid of heights.” His amber eyes sparkled. Great, something for him to use against me.

  “I didn’t think I was.” True, I had trouble in the past, minor trouble, but I’d never been in a situation like this one before.

  As long as I didn’t puke on my polished platform boots, I’d survive.

  I looked up, hoping that would help calm my nerves, to see the top rapidly approaching. I turned to face the wall, grateful for the excuse to no longer look out over the massive city, now a latticework of structured streets and moving bits of things that could have been people.

  Gulp.

  The platform came to a halt, smooth again, but just as swift and I stepped off with great relief onto the solid ground of the top of the mountain. It was as slick and polished as its side, as though someone had taken the peak off completely. I looked up over what had to be some kind of throne room, open to the sky. Though now I could feel the hum of wards and knew the entire place was shielded. Still freaky, but I was far enough from the edges I kept my stomach under control.

  It had to be the length of a football field to the center of the peak and the two huge thrones carved of mottled black rock. Pagomaris snapped her fingers and a line of guards formed to funnel us yet again down the polished stone way.

  Not like we needed the direction. It was pretty clear where we were heading. I glanced around, but did my best to keep my face straight ahead, especially after Sassy hissed at me.

  “Whatever you do,” he whispered, “never show fear.”

  Wasn’t this my family? Why would they care if I was afraid? Until I got a good look.

  Dad’s family wasn’t the handful of smiling aunts, uncles and cousins I’d been expecting. Not even close. Instead, we were greeted by a horde dressed in as elaborate fashion as Meira and I. There had to be hundreds of them, lining both sides of the walk just past where the guards stopped, crowding the aisle to the thrones in their multicolored garb, talking behind their hands as they watched.

  No waving here, no smiles. Just an army of amber eyes staring us down. Even Meira’s back stiffened, face composed. I hoped Sassy managed to warn her, too.

  It was pretty clear as we drew near the thrones we weren’t in happy company. The press of curiosity wasn’t nearly as strong as their animosity.

  If they didn’t want us here, why were we?

  The explanation sat on the tallest throne, her amber eyes watching, flat and cold, staring right through me as my grandmother watched me approach.

  ***

  Chapter Eight

  Pagomaris strode forward, in the lead for the first time since we stepped off the platform below, and genuflected so deeply to the thrones before her I’m positive her nose touched the stone. She then turned and smiled at me, body vibrating with joy.

  “Bow now before our High and Noble Rulers,” she said in a voice throbbing with emotion. “His Royal Highness, Prince Vandelarius, Ruler of the Second Seat, Demon Lord of Milanseme, Carrier of the Sacred Shroud, Lord Master General of the Guard…”

  She went on so long I felt my brain going numb.

  I know, Sassy sent. Tiresome, aren’t they? Your grandmother’s titles could fill a thousand paged book, so get that glaze out of your eyes and listen up.

  Smartass cat.

  Pagomaris finally wound down, adding one last title about a Glorious Chalice of something or another before she turned and bowed herself to the demon on the smaller throne.

  It sat just below my grandmother’s, to the left side, not quite as grand. In it slumped a portly demon who appeared to be in his late twenties, though I was well aware demon ages were very deceptive. More likely he was a couple of thousand years old.

  1894, I think, Sassy sent.

  Nitpicker.

  My point was, despite all the fancy-schmancy titles he carried around with him, Vandelarius seemed frumpy and more than a little petulant, his elaborate robe crumpled in his lap, dirty boot bobbing over his crossed knee. His amber eyes sunk into his face, peering pig-like over his rounded cheeks, thick lips almost grossly so. His black hair had thinned, leaving him a severe widow’s peak, scalp shining through the carefully combed remains.

  By the way, Sassy sent. You should probably bow right about now.

  What? I glanced around, so focused on my observations I missed the fact everyone else was on their knee. Dad glanced up at me, a little grin pulling his lips, but I figured I’d better conform just in case.

  It sucked and I hated bowing right away. But I did it, if only for Dad.

  I rose with the rest of the demons as Pagomaris turned with another huge smile.

  He’s Harry’s brother-in-law, Sassy said while the aide beamed all around. Married to his sister.

  My uncle. Okay then.

  Watch him. Sassy’s voice hissed in my mind as Pagomaris began to introduce my grandmother.

  Got to love family.

  “And now, all hail our Most Noble and Righteous Ruler, First Seat Ahbi Sanghamitra, Glorious Leader of all Demonicon, Salvation of…”

  Um, yeah. Booooring.

  A yawn began in the back of my throat and crawled its way up to my mouth as Pagomaris went on and on and bloody on until I found myself clamping my lips together to keep the damned thing in, eyes watering as the yawn crested and finally left me.

  If this was what life here was like, I was happy to go home.

  My eyes kept wandering, over the assembled watchers, my demon family, to Vandelarius and his clear disregard for the ceremony of it all as he scratched absently under his robe and didn’t bother to hide his own yawn, mouth gaping every two minutes or so, showing the black depths of his throat and the golden molars way in the back.

  Made it hard to hold back my own yawns with him shoving it in my face. As for my grandmother, I didn’t really think staring at her would be the best course of action considering how everyone treated her, so I only caught glimpses as my gaze flickered to her over and over again, forming a final picture while Pagomaris finally wound down.

  One thing, my grandmother was a very large woman. Not in fat, in stature. She had to stand at least as tall as Dad, if not taller, her wide shoulders a challenge to his own. Her stern face was rock-like, faintly lined, the first older demon I’d ever seen. Carefully coiffed steel-silver hair wound around her head and cascaded in perfect coils over her shoulders, falling over her massively spectacular robe and trailing down the seat to swing softly near her feet. Her eyes were the same penetrating amber of all demons, but I sensed a hardness to her making me think she was way more effigy than demon.

  She didn’t twitch, barely seemed to breathe the entire time, large hands clamped onto the arm rests of her throne, beak-like nose curved downward over lips thinned to a straight line. If it weren’t for my previous experience, for the danger I’d endured and survived, I might have been afraid of her.

  Okay. Was a little. But it wasn’t like she planned to bite me. Not that anyone mentioned.

  Come to think of it, how much did I know about demon culture? Was biting involved?

  Syd. Get a grip.

  At least the stares and whispers served me well. The more the gathe
red family judged me, the angrier I grew. My demon was happy to hum her dissatisfaction with present circumstances, though she was as fearful of my grandmother as I was. Shaylee stayed out of it, though I wasn’t sure if on purpose or not. She felt muffled inside me, as though being on the demon plane held her back. I hadn’t noticed last time, but then I was focused on saving Dad so it was likely I wouldn’t have.

  As for the vampire essence, she lay coiled in my heart, as usual, observing. She hadn’t so much as whispered to me in the last few months, content to exist within me. Even visits from Uncle Frank and Sunny didn’t rouse her much, though they still suffered from a bit of attraction to me because of her presence. I hadn’t seen Sebastian and worried he was avoiding me for the same reason.

  So my demon and I it was. Good enough. We could handle things, especially now I knew I wasn’t allowed to use my other magicks anyway.

  I snapped back to reality from my wandering thoughts to find my eyes locked on my grandmother’s. She stared back, cold and empty, but this time I wasn’t scared. She reminded me of Charlotte when the weregirl was in guard mode.

  Good then. Pull your attempt at being creepy and hard assed, Nanny-mine. I could take it.

  Pagomaris bowed again to the thrones before backing away, still nearly prone, a creepy display reminding me of a giant metal spider. She didn’t rise until she was almost to us. Before she could speak again, Sassafras darted forward, leaping up the three stairs to my grandmother’s throne and hopping up into her lap.

  A smile. Was it? Could that concrete face really smile? One huge hand lifted from its place on the throne, almost as if a statue come to life, and she stroked his fur with amusement pulling her lips upward.

  “Sassafras,” she said, voice deep, but very feminine. “How delightful to see you, dear boy.”

  He began to purr, the sound of it carrying even as his demon magic reached me, woven into his own personal song. “Ahbi,” he said.

  Gasps of shock. Clearly her first name wasn’t the best choice of address. Even Pagomaris blanched, paling under her red-tinted skin.

  But my grandmother laughed, a booming echo, still gently stroking his fur.

  “Welcome home, boy,” she said as her eyes lifted to me.

  So she had a heart. Somewhere inside her, anyway. And now, thanks to Sass, I knew it.

  You’re welcome, he sent in a very tight thread. But don’t get cocky. She’ll crush you like a bug.

  I was sure he was full of it, but why risk it?

  Because she gave me reason to.

  “Approach, Meira, daughter of Haralthazar, Demon Prince of the Second Plane.” My grandmother didn’t gesture, face falling again into a cold mask.

  My sister moved ahead without a sound or hesitation while my blood began a slow burn.

  Um, she was much more than Dad’s daughter. Much more. The group surrounding us laughed behind their hands, as if aware of the slight. Coldness I could handle. Arrogance when it came to my lineage?

  She had another freaking thing coming.

  Any fear I’d felt, any residual concern, melted like cheap wax under the rumble of my rising temper. Even my demon joined me, snapping fire through my body until I was rigid with it.

  Two could play this game, oh yeah. As Meira bowed to our grandmother and accepted whatever platitude the old demon offered, I ran over my plan in my head until it was perfect.

  I quivered inside, but stood a statue myself on the outside when Meira finally backed away and my grandmother fixed me once again with a gaze like steel.

  Let’s see how she liked a taste of her own medicine.

  They wanted scandal? Something to gasp at? I was more than happy to deliver.

  Before she could say a word, I stepped forward and opened my big mouth.

  ***

  Chapter Nine

  “Considering you seem to be misinformed,” I said, “allow me to clear up the issue and introduce myself.” My demon growled behind my words as every single pair of eyes latched onto me and refused to let go. The pressure was unbelievable, but my temper carried me onward, for good or ill. “I am Sydlynn Thaddea Hayle, leader of the Hayle coven, daughter of Miriam Hayle, Leader of the North American Witches Council. I am also Sydlynn, demon child of Haralthazar, Prince of the Second Plane.” I paused a moment, ignoring the open-mouthed shock of the family, the way Pagomaris's hands fluttered ineffectually as though her worst nightmare had come to life, only focused on the steady, steely gaze of my grandmother. “I am Shaylee, Princess of the Sidhe Seelie Court. And I am the essence of all vampires, born of the maji.” As I ran through the list of my personas, I felt a shiver of pride. Not because I was powerful—I was, without question—but for the first time in my life I recognized and acknowledged publicly the honor of who I actually was, the lives I carried inside me, and it all finally hit me.

  Whoa. How cool was I?

  Grandmother didn't seem all that impressed and from the sudden rumble of anger and shock rippling through the family, I hadn't made any friends with my little proclamation. But I refused to back down, buoyed by the grim smile on Dad's face and the fact Sassafras hadn't mentally chastised me yet.

  Let them think what they wanted. I was Sydlynn Hayle and damned proud of it.

  Grandmother let the chatter go on for a moment before raising her right hand. The sudden silence felt like she’d numbed my ears. Not once did she blink or turn her gaze from me, amber fire eating away at the edges of my resolve despite my best intentions. Now that my temper had cooled somewhat, I realized the position I'd put myself in. Front, center. Yay me. Brilliant move, Syd. And yet, my sense of pride didn't leave me and so I remained where I was, back straight, head up and heart beginning to beat a little faster the longer she stared me down.

  Before I could cave under the weight of her gaze, Grandmother gestured, again with her right hand, motioning me forward. Another gasp, this time without anger, only pure surprise and I knew I'd won.

  This round. Good thing I was going home soon.

  “Welcome, granddaughter.” She purposely left out every single name I'd used, but I didn't argue. What was her game now? “Your family has long despaired at your absence and that of your sister.”

  Yeah, sure they had. I could just feel the sickly sweet love and compassion oozing from my relatives. Any more attention from them and I'd likely end up with a terminal case of adoration overload.

  Grandmother went on as if she spoke utter truth. “It is wonderful to have you both home with us at long last and we hope you enjoy all being children of the ruling family has to offer.”

  Careful, Sassy sent very softly, that tight band of connection so weak it barely reached me. He was being uber cautious, clearly. We're getting to the real reason you're here. Don't piss her off further until we know what she wants.

  Then I can finish the job? No idea why I was feeling so cocky.

  We'll see. Sassy's chuckle was full of venom. That was absolutely brilliant, by the way. Don't ever do anything like that again.

  We’d see.

  Grandmother gestured for Meira to join me and I felt my sister slide in beside me. I half expected her little hand to slide into mine, but it never happened. Of course. That would be a show of weakness and Meira, as young as she was, clearly understood the stakes here, even if I was only beginning to.

  What kind of family did Dad have? I wasn't really liking them much and I didn't even know them.

  “Now is the time for your plane selection,” Grandmother said. Sassy's mind jabbed me so violently I almost jumped, though there were no words, only a spike of fear I was sure he never intended to reach me.

  “I protest, Ruler.” Dad stepped forward immediately, to stand at my sister's side. “Neither of my daughters are born of this plane. And considering they will be departing in a few short hours, plane assignments are unnecessary.”

  Grandmother glared at him. “You would deny your own daughters their status, Haralthazar?” She tapped the fingers of her left hand on the arm
of her throne even as Vandelarius glared at Dad with pure venom. “It is the decree of the Seat no demon child shall be without status.”

  “So decreed,” Vandelarius said. Hissed, more like. His voice was kind of whiny, not that I was surprised, high pitched. Made my skin do a creepy crawly dance.

  Dad hesitated, looked like he wanted to argue. Finally fell back with a grunt, face frozen in anger.

  This is really important, Sassy sent. Pay close attention. Ahbi's real goal is right here, in the plane assignments.

  Whatever that meant.

  Grandmother turned her gaze to my sister. “Meira,” she said in a ringing voice, power reaching forward from her to envelop my sister, “I rename you Hathenemeira, and declare you a Lady of the Seventh Plane.”

  Meira gasped softly as the power snapped into place, her eyes flaring with light before she bowed her head to our grandmother.

  Muttering. Dark looks. My heart, now beating faster than normal, did an odd jump making my chest hurt. What was the big deal? Dad used to be a seventh plane demon. Kind of made sense Meira would be too. The renaming thing kind of annoyed me, but why were most members of the family now staring at my sister like she was the enemy?

  Syd, Sassy sent. This is very bad. Very, very bad.

  If Sassafras was nervous, I had good reason. As Grandmother turned to me, I felt her power wrap around me, chill for demon fire, normally full of heat. Curious and on impulse I traced her magic back to her, hoping for some insight, only to meet with a massive wall of amber stone, shields built and reinforced for literally centuries.

  But her power wasn't alone. I traced a second source to her left, found Vandelarius's magic hiding behind hers, probing me, checking me out. I jabbed back with some anger, felt him retreat. He might have been second seat, but he wasn’t nearly the demon she was and it would seem he wasn't prepared to openly challenge me or my sister at this point.