‘Why did he keep a hook?’ I said as we scrambled to look at the charred remains of Dmitri. There, amidst his toe bones was a sooty hook, peeking from under a scorched toenail. ‘You don’t look like a burglar. Perhaps a thug like Ron was.’
He grabbed the hook and eyed me curiously. ‘He kept it for me. Anja can open anything, but I insisted. Never know what is going to happen. Prepare for everything. Austrians are like that. Have you ever seen a burglar?’
‘I cannot be sure, I suppose,’ I allowed. ‘Fine. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt that you might not be a clumsy thug or a knuckle-dragging brute. Of course, you could be all those things. You climb walls like a spider, no?’
‘I can climb just fine,’ he said as he vigorously twisted the hook. ‘Do I look fat?’
‘You looked a bit big when we arrived,’ I said softly.
‘That was muscle,’ he growled. ‘And your sister mocked Ron like that and look where that got us all.’
‘Sorry. The lock is magical,’ I told him. ‘And Euryale is sure to watch us.’
‘She didn’t save you. I think she is busy. Something is happening out there. Now, I used this kind of a hook once. I broke into this elegant country house that looked wealthy as hell, and we thought it would be an easy job. The guys were waiting outside, and …’ he grunted and cursed as he pricked his finger on the hook and continued, ‘and I sneaked in, climbed to the second floor balcony and opened the door’s meager locks with something like this. I went in and this woman accosted me, nude as the day she was born. Wasn’t supposed to be anyone in. Bastard Tom had scouted it and claimed he had seen the owner leave with bag and a woman. Well, she had come back all right, taken a bath, and there she was. Not a bad looking one either. Entirely unclad. Except she had a shotgun.’
‘I suppose you seduced her?’
He looked at me curiously. ‘Yes. I think she had always fantasized about something like that. A handsome Austrian burglar gawking at her breasts. Later on, she wanted to marry me,’ he said, twisting the hook vigorously.
‘Really?’
‘No, she shot at me,’ he laughed. ‘Flew to her round ass, and I cried for a week. My back and ass … shit. Now, I think our Euryale loves chaos. Let us give her what she loves.’ He eyed the twisted hook turned skeleton key in his hand appraisingly and nodded.
‘Can you see the Shades still?’ I asked nervously
‘She can't cut me off,’ he assured me. ‘But little good it will do if Cosia and Bilac are on the other side of that door. Or some others of the filthy cows.’
‘I wish I had a sword,’ I mumbled as we hiked for the steps towards the door.
‘I wish that as well,’ he snorted. ‘You seemed pretty deft with it.’
We reached the door, and he leaned to look at the lock. ‘The bitch opened it how?’ he asked.
‘She cast a spell, and the lock sort of skittered on the floor. Apparently, it fixed itself.’
‘Skittered,’ he grunted and put his finger in the lock. ‘This shit is magical. No mechanism I know. Might as well stick my dick in there.’
‘If that helps, do it,’ I growled. ‘Though I don’t know if I or the blood can heal something like that if it fails.’
‘Funny, but the hole is too small. Here, let me see if the key is useless.’ He entered the skeleton key into the lock. He cursed and tugged and turned the key. It took some time and then his face screwed into a grin. ‘It’s been a standard lock sometime in the past.’ The lock crackled, burning softly, the spell holding the steel lock snapped, bluish symbols ran around the steel and the wood, and the whole thing melted into red, molten ruin as the door opened. ‘Well, that worked nicely,’ he said and pushed open the door.
There stood Bilac, looking confused, grasping at her whip, her fine chain armor glittering dangerously. ‘Get back in!’ she demanded.
‘No,’ Ulrich said savagely and charged out, and I followed him. At the same time, I felt Bilac’s ice, frost and wind buffet us, toppling Ulrich and gaining intensity, icy shards thrumming at the doorway. Then, cold hands grasped the big man’s hands and legs, drawing blood from his side. I screamed and rolled clear, crushing a hand trying to grab me and ran at her, gathering satisfaction from the surprised look in her eyes. I grappled her and we rolled on the floor, cursing, I tried to choke her. Even her snakes looked shocked and none bit me, for some reason. I saw Ulrich hovering nearby, the spell holding him lost as we rolled on the floor. She was weaving a spell of Fury, kicked me off and then she was sitting over me, her short armored skirt cold on my ripped robe and chest beneath, fire playing in her hand as she stabbed down with a fiery, molten dagger. Her eyes were intense and victorious, and again I thought I would die, as Ulrich cursed her. Her eyes turned his way and grew large in shock.
A burst of fire hit her chest. It was intense, harshly hot and was followed by a whiplash that tore several snakes off her head. She screamed, music to our ears. I was pushing at her as Ulrich charged and tackled her pain-wracked body off me. They rolled on the ground; Ulrich grunting as he was punching her, flames were running wildly across the floor as his fire whip dissipated through lack of concentration. Bilac and her snakes recovered, and Ulrich howled as the serpents’ bites raked him. Bilac, despite her sturdy frame, was lithe as a cat, even armored, and she sprung up, powerful arms pushing her up from the ground. She grabbed Ulrich, grasped his foot and elbow and threw him aside. She again wove a spell of Fury and her left hand held the dagger of molten fire again. Ulrich cursed, half paralyzed by the snake venom, tried to kick her unsuccessfully, and I moved and so Bilac lost.
For while wrestling with her I had grabbed her sword from her belt and held it beneath her chin.
She went silent and still and slowly stared up at me. Her snakes slithered across my arms and chest. ‘Let him go, you death-faced bitch,’ I said thickly, getting ready to butcher her.
‘Do you not think I would die for my mistress?’ she asked acidly.
‘I doubt anyone would be willing to do so,’ I retorted. ‘She is a worthless thing. Let him go.’
‘Saa’dark,’ she chuckled. ‘Fool. What will this accomplish? Go back to your cell. You’ll die out here anyway, should I help you.’
‘Release the Bone Fetters,’ I told her brusquely, the blade hovering near her throat. Her eyes were bright yellow, angry and surprised.
‘Release the damned Fetters, you worm-haired pile of shit,’ Ulrich told her, near unable to move.
‘I cannot,’ she said with some trepidation, her eyes scouring my face. ‘I must not.’
I smiled at her coldly as the sword drew blood. She flinched. ‘Do it, girl. You told me that one day you might not care if you died for slaying me. Now you can show me. Or take the chance she might spare you.’ I grinned at her and slashed at a snake getting too familiar. The head flew off to the dark corner, spilling thin blood, and she grimaced in pain as the sword blade rested on her neck. ‘Let me free. You’ll live. For a while at least.’ I pressed the blade on her neck, and so she crumbled, the defiance flying away from her face, replaced by hopelessness.
‘The Rot will eat you, and I shall dream of it,’ she whispered.
I smiled and then whooped in happiness, for I had not realized something. ‘I was just cured of it, Bilac! It is gone!’
‘How?’ she whispered, eyeing my shoulder carefully. ‘You will regret this,’ she said, shaking her head, and then closed her eyes, the ring in her hand glowing. Suddenly, I saw and felt the frigid tumbling of the ice, the tumult of freezing ages passing somewhere near, and I screamed with joy. Ulrich was smiling as well.
‘You got it?’
‘I got it,’ I told him and gathered the healing powers and released them at him. He was gasping for breath as he rolled on the floor and got up laughing.
‘Thanks,’ he told me. ‘Though I’m unhappy about that.’ He nodded at Bilac’s severed snakes and the healed stumps. ‘You healed the ugly monster as well.’
‘Sorry about th
at,’ I grinned and leaned over her. ‘Undress, you cruel vermin,’ I told her.
‘What?’ she asked, confused, and at that I clubbed her with the sword, so quickly and hard she had no time to block me. She went to her knees, and I struck her again, brutally hard. She fell, twisting in agony. I kicked her over, and she did not move. ‘I’ll take this sword and armor,’ I said and started working on the buckles.
‘I should use the armor, actually,’ Ulrich complained. ‘I’ll be doing the fighting.’
‘No, I’ll fight all right. And it's cut for a female.’
‘Fine!’ he said as he turned to gaze at the cells.
I nodded. ‘Find which door holds who.’
He watched me incredulously as I tugged the armor off the unconscious gorgon. Then he moved to stare at the various doors. I pulled open Bilac’s belt, then tugged at the chain armor, cut to allow movement, with a very low and immodest metal skirt and long, thick boots. Finally, rolling her down the steps, it came off the creature, and I pulled off my ripped robe and pulled on the chain mail, cursing the cold metal that seemed supple enough to be worn without anything under it. I grasped the belt and skirted myself with it, hefting the sword. Ulrich was going from door to door, staring at each. He turned to me, running his fingers across the wood of one door, carved with ghostly hands and a skull-shaped lock. ‘There are twenty doors, at least five are locked. The stairway goes down over there on the left. That looks ominous. How do we find anyone here?’ he asked as he stared at me pulling on Bilac’s dark, strange runed boots. ‘You do look excellent in that, I have to admit,’ he said with a blush, and I grinned and wiped my hand across the wonderfully crafted armor.
‘Thanks,’ I told him, feeling spectacular, victorious for some reason, free of Rot and full of Shades. I stared at the doors. Then I eyed the main door, the fanged one, and the speaking freak of a barrier. I walked over to it.
‘Exit, mistress, from this morass,’ it declared and began to open.
‘What is your name?’ I asked it, and the mouth stopped moving, the fangs shuddering in indecision.
‘Exit, mistress …’
‘Shut up!’ I told it.
‘Yes, mistress,’ it agreed somewhat reluctantly.
‘What is your name?’
‘Call me Baktak,’ it said. ‘A spirit of the door, nothing more, just that, mistress. Nothing really. Something they bound to this gate, once.’
‘You are a liar, Baktak. You know everything around here, don’t you?’ I cooed at it.
‘Well ...’
‘You are an ingenious little door, are you not?’
It had no face, but the fangs disappeared and a feminine mouth took form instead, pursing lips. ‘You see through my varnish, mistress. How can I help you?’
‘We have a bit of a problem, you see,’ I told her happily. Anja shrieked somewhere, a tired, long scream, and Ulrich was running about, desperately trying to figure out where the cry came from.
‘A bit?’ It giggled, white teeth flashing. ‘Grand serpent is going to be back anytime soon.’
‘Where did she go?’ I asked, intrigued. The lips started to whisper. I could not make it out. ‘Louder, please,’ I demanded imperiously. Ulrich was hovering behind me.
‘There is the ghost. You know the one. Runt, dark-skinned male child. Loves pranks. Now it was mad as a beat badger. He pushed over a pint of something up there. There was a fire. Some magical explosions. Nasty business. They are salvaging her treasures and some are still exploding. Heads are rolling. Soon, she will begin to wonder at the coincidence of this business of yours and that fire.’
‘He can sometimes push at things while enraged,’ I told Baktak. ‘And I’m grateful to him.’
‘The dead can do that indeed, young, pretty mistress when they are terribly upset or terrified. They can grab things, nudge them, definitely. And he was afraid for you. No, he was angry. Thinks you are dead.’ The voice was resentful, and I could imagine it staring at Ulrich with grave disapproval.
‘It's blaming me, isn’t it?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ I agreed. ‘Is the fire under control?’ I turned to Baktak, fingering the sword. ‘How much time do we have?’
‘That blade won’t help you against the Devourer,’ Baktak said sadly. ‘Soon, the time is up for you. Very soon.’
‘Soon. Thanks, I guess. So, Baktak, we will need to know …’ Ulrich asked.
‘Tell this ape to be quiet,’ the door said morosely. ‘He kicked me once, didn’t he?’
‘He did, and he is damnably sorry for it, Baktak,’ I tried to assure it.
‘What do you need?’ she or it asked, hardly mollified.
‘We need to find our friends,’ I grinned.
‘You are mad to think this sad excuse for a barn door knows anything,’ Ulrich crumbled.
I slapped my hand over his mouth to silence him. ‘And we need to get out of here.’
‘Gods,’ Ulrich moaned softly. ‘We are so dead.’
Baktak pursed its lips. ‘She brought two girls and a boy to the fourth cell, the one with a skull lock and that ridiculous coat of hands. Terrible taste the Timmerions had, a horrible house, not to mention the drinking. There was the cute black girl with a huge bundle of hair, like an elf, and a strangely ugly, thin-faced girl, and one hulking ape of a boy.’
‘Albine, Cherry, and Lex,’ I agreed. ‘And Anja? The …’
‘Large-bosomed blonde?’ the door said lecherously, smacking its lips happily. ‘She is behind the red door, young mistress. Right next door to the skull lock.’ It lowered its voice. ‘And your sister is with the beast.’
I slumped and shook my head. ‘The dragon? The Masked One?’
The door tried to speak but went quiet. It smacked its lips again. ‘She is chained to the gate. Down the steps, and the thing is as dangerous as your ape thought it might be. Across the worlds, few things frighten the living as much as a dragon. The gorgons perhaps, terrify the weak in the night and creatures like it prowl the shadows and lands to harvest lives, but your sister was taken to a dragon. Moreover, I do not know how you aim to save her. You cannot get in to speak with it. It was part of the Pact that the door is closed to any, but those Euryale allows opening it. Yet, I know you will go and try. It hurt her and won’t release her unless you do.’
‘I have to,’ I told Baktak weakly.
‘You do not,’ Ulrich said.
‘Is there a way to enter the lair of the beast?’ I asked the door, ignoring Ulrich. ‘Any damned way?’
‘She will fry me, she will make shavings of me and chew on my lips,’ Baktak complained.
‘There is a way?’ I asked Baktak.
‘Yes, there is a way,’ the door said with resignation. ‘I said …’
‘Speak!’ Ulrich said.
The door brooded. ‘I will tell you if that ape gives me a proper kiss.’
‘He will,’ I agreed. ‘Purse your lips, Ulrich.’
‘I will not! Kiss a door?’ He looked horrified. ‘It’s got fangs!’
‘Anja won’t mind, and I shall heal you if you lose something,’ I chided him. ‘Kiss Baktak.’
‘Is it even female?’ he asked weakly.
‘Does it matter?’ I asked him with a sneer. ‘Come now, be a man.’
‘I won’t bite,’ Baktak teased, pursing its lips, wet and amorous.
‘For God’s sakes,’ Ulrich grunted and bent to kiss the lips. Their lips met, and Ulrich’s eyes popped open. He vaulted away, retching. He pointed an incredulous finger at the door. ‘It put its tongue down my throat. Deep in my throat. That was damn disgusting. I shall …’
‘Thank Baktak for a sweet kiss,’ I finished for him. ‘Now, tell us.’
‘Delicious, my happy man, very much so,’ it cooed, and I thought it a bit mad. It went on. ‘I said the door won’t open to anyone but those Euryale allows in. The dragon had a servant when it fell. I remember the day. She took the servant, and the servant is a very useful thing.’
‘Ye
s?’ I said, and it brooded quietly. ‘Nox? Yes? She told me he belonged to Stheno …’
‘She is a liar, mistress,’ the door laughed. ‘As for Nox, he cannot speak against his mistress. Remember that as you deal with him. Call Nox when you reach the door. Only he can open the door and keep it open.’
‘And the thing up in the tower? Do you know it? This tunnel of the crow?’ I asked. ‘There is this thing …’
‘What? No crows here, none. Never was,’ it said angrily. ‘They shit everywhere. Can’t abide bird shit.’
‘The mirror in her hall,’ I told it patiently. ‘With crows on top. I don’t know its name.’
‘Ah! I see what you need,’ Baktak grinned. ‘She is a bit of competition for me, but I manage the tower, it takes people elsewhere. I have forgiven her. Dark Prayer it is called.’
‘Dark Prayer?’ I asked.
‘Old artifact, Gift created,’ Baktak said happily. ‘That thing can take you far away from here with this name uttered in its presence and a spell cast. Where? I know not. Certainly not to the other worlds, but perhaps elsewhere in Aldheim.’
‘I know it,’ I said. ‘Is it still intact?’
It thought about it for a moment, the tongue traveling the lips, and Ulrich gagged. I gave him the evil eye and then the door was happy. ‘Yes? Yes, it is. The bastard. I don’t mind the competition, but I’m stuck here, being kicked at and Nox shines it every day. So …’
‘Thank you Baktak,’ I told it. ‘Well, let's get to work. We will enter the lair of the beast last. I can travel there,’ I said weakly, terrified of going against her.
‘She is called the Devourer,’ Ulrich said, turning me. ‘We need a better plan.’
‘We need to take our chances,’ I told him. ‘Let us free the others.’
‘I would be careful in those rooms,’ Baktak said. ‘Very careful. In addition, I would open the one with the skull lock first. Might help with the second room. Just might if you play your cards right.’
‘Gods are humping us,’ Ulrich said miserably and moved down to face the door with the skull-faced lock. Ulrich pulled out his skeleton key and inserted it into the lock. He tugged and pulled and filled our ears with his soft curses. It took time to wheedle the lock open, but finally it opened, and I pulled my blade, afraid of what we might find behind the door. Ulrich pushed at the door carefully. ‘Stubborn bastard door,’ he said. ‘Keep behind me.’ The door was hugely thick, like a trunk, and we had to push it, both of us. It opened silently.
The Dark Levy: Stories of the Nine Worlds (Ten Tears Chronicles - a dark fantasy action adventure Book 1) Page 33