Give the Devil His Due

by Blackwell, Rob

  “Are you the one known as the Spider?” Quinn asked. “Are you a Prince too?”

  The spider let out a strange sound that startled them before Quinn realized it was a laugh.

  “No,” Parker responded. “He died long ago.”

  “But this was his home?” Quinn asked.

  “Yes,” Parker said. “It was our home. He ruled from here.”

  Quinn looked at him strangely.

  “Ruled?” Quinn asked.

  The spider’s eyes blinked and he nodded.

  “Are you sure?” Carol asked. “I thought he was the first to make war on Sanheim, and the first to lose.”

  The spider stared at them.

  “What you say is heresy,” he said simply. “They would have killed you for even voicing that. But the truth is I do not know much of the past. There was Sanheim, there was Damhán Alla. They fought. When and for how long I do not know. It stretched out for many years. But eventually, my master fell. I am the last of his followers.”

  Quinn looked at Carol.

  “Do you know what this means?” he asked.

  “It’s not what you’re thinking, sugar,” she said.

  “Sanheim isn’t as invulnerable as he pretends to be,” Quinn said. “It’s possible the Spider wasn’t defeated immediately when he arrived here. He could have initially triumphed against Sanheim, driven him back. Maybe he even ruled for a time before Sanheim returned.”

  “It doesn’t change the fact that Sanheim won,” Carol said.

  “But it does mean he nearly didn’t,” Quinn said. “He can be defeated.”

  “You have to stop dreaming of this, Quinn. It’s dangerous.”

  “He has no choice,” Elyssa said. She had been almost entirely quiet since the rescue, mostly just staring at the spider. “Sanheim will never let him live. You’re the one giving him dangerous ideas.”

  “I don’t want him to have false hope,” Carol said. “Every single being that has gone up against Sanheim has failed. This is not a battle he can win.”

  The spider made another noise then and shook his head.

  “You are wrong,” he said. “This is a fight he must win. It’s one he was born to win.”

  “What are you talking about?” Buzz asked.

  “In the final days, my master knew he was going to fail,” the spider said. “He bid me to hide. Even among my people, who were skilled in stealth, I was one of the best. I was to await the Dullahan. My master knew you would come. He told me to help you against Sanheim. It was his dying wish.”

  “How did he know I was coming?” Quinn asked. “And what, exactly, does Dullahan mean?”

  “It’s the Irish version of the headless horseman,” Janus answered. “Pretty scary bastard too. He uses a whip made out of a human spinal cord if I remember right.”

  “So Damhán Alla told you the Dullahan would come?” Quinn asked. “How did he know?”

  “I do not know,” Parker replied.

  “The Princes of Sanheim are known for the gift of prophecy,” Carol said. “Crowley knew about you, remember? He wrote those symbols out in the book, including the flute and the horse. They stood for future Princes — Sawyer and you.”

  “Did he tell you anything else?” Quinn asked.

  “Only that much depended on your success,” the spider said. “He said if you failed, the end would come shortly.”

  “Well, it’s a safe bet if we fail, we’re all going to die quickly,” Janus said.

  The spider shook his head.

  “No, he did not mean your death,” the spider said. “He meant everything.”

  “You’re telling me this place gets destroyed if I fail?” Quinn asked. “That can’t be right. If I fight Sanheim and fail, this world would still exist at the very least. Everything can’t depend on me.”

  “No,” the spider said. “He talked of things I don’t understand. He mentioned a council and a treaty. He mentioned a man named Draghir. He talked of a war. I have thought about these for centuries and not come any closer to understanding them.”

  “Well, it’s definitely going to be a war if you fight Sanheim,” Carol said.

  The spider waved a hairy leg and glared at her in evident frustration.

  “You do not understand,” he said. “He did not speak of the war between the Dullahan and Sanheim. He did not speak of this world. He spoke of everything. He spoke of all.”

  Quinn stared at him in shock.

  “What are you saying?” Quinn said.

  “If you fail, it is not just this world that will end,” the spider said in a matter of fact tone. “If you fail, every world — the mortal one and the underworlds — will die.”

  Quinn took a moment to comprehend the enormity of what had just been said. It was Janus who spoke next.

  “So, you know, no pressure,” he said.

  Chapter 25

  Kieran was lying awake on the couch when the door to Tim’s apartment exploded.

  Without thinking, he flipped over the back of the sofa, landing with a thud on the floor. He reached his hand to the underside of the couch, ripped off the tape, and pulled out the knife he had been brooding about for at least three hours.

  She’s gone crazy again, Kieran thought. And she’s come back to kill me.

  He couldn’t see anything from behind the couch and dared not make any noise. He hoped Tim would be careful and not rush out blindly trying to find out what was going on. If Kate had taken to knocking doors down instead of opening them, she was too far gone. He heard the sound of crunching wood and glass as someone stepped into the apartment.

  Kieran couldn’t think of what had happened, why she would attack now. Over the past week, Kate had been totally unlike her previous self — making careful plans, discussing strategy. She wasn’t warm to Kieran, but he thought she was past murdering him outright. Something must have changed.

  The knife, you idiot, he thought. She discovered you took the knife.

  Unfortunately, that made a lot of sense to Kieran. Kate was pleased when they retrieved the sword and shield she had used last year, but for obvious reasons, Kieran had kept the knife concealed. If she somehow discovered he had it… Well, busting down a door seemed like a perfectly normal reaction.

  “Come out, come out, wherever you are,” a female voice coaxed.

  Kieran’s eyes widened in shock as he lay panting on the floor. Either Kate had somehow absorbed another personality or, more likely, it wasn’t her after all. Before he could think it through, there was an explosion in the kitchen. Debris from cups, plates and assorted appliances flew around the apartment. Kieran kept the knife in his left hand and tried to cover his head with his right.

  What the hell is going on?

  The lounge chair on the far side of the room was suddenly lifted in the air and thrown across the apartment. It smashed into a wall and broke into bits of leather and wood frame. Kieran’s back was covered with debris.

  “I’m going to find your hiding place, Kieran,” the voice said. “It would be better if you showed yourself first.”

  She knows my name, he thought. That can’t be good.

  Kieran tried to crawl forward, but he had no idea where he could go. The apartment was small and the only exit blocked. Short of climbing out a window, he had no way out and nowhere to flee. He heard the sound of another piece of furniture being destroyed and realized his couch was the last item remaining. The next shot would obliterate it and, in all likelihood, him as well.

  So Kieran did the only thing he could do. He stood up.

  He wasn’t sure what he expected, but his attacker wasn’t it. She wore gold robes and carried a spear in her hand. She was tall and athletic, with dark black hair that stretched to her shoulders. She looked more like a Greek warrior than a monster. She smiled when she saw him.

  “Hello,” she said.

  “Uh, hi?” Kieran managed.

  She stuck her spear out and muttered something under her breath. A green light came leaping toward
Kieran and he barely had time to jump out of the way. It exploded behind him, leaving a hole in the wall.

  “This world has no manners,” she said. “You don’t know how to talk to your betters.”

  Kieran had a million questions, not the least of which was who this woman was and why she wanted to kill him. But sometimes a single sentence could impart quite a bit of information. He stood up and bowed low to his attacker.

  “I apologize for my rudeness, my lady,” he said. “I should have recognized you as a vassal of Lord Sanheim and treated you accordingly.”

  The woman arched an eyebrow and a playful smile flitted across her lips. She looked amused.

  “Such courtesy,” she said.

  “Not enough, I know,” Kieran said. “I only wish I had properly introduced myself. My name is Kieran Collins. And my lady is…”

  The woman smiled again.

  “Carman,” she said. “And I am no vassal.”

  She muttered something and aimed her spear again, but Kieran was at least ready this time. He ducked as a shot went over his head. A thousand images flooded his mind. He knew precious little about Carman, but he had studied more Celtic mythology than any man alive. Carman was the Celtic witch, said to be centuries old. She had come to Ireland from Greece, leading an invasion force with her three sons. Kieran couldn’t remember their Gaelic names, but knew that the English translation for them was evil, shadow and violence.

  “I apologize for giving offense,” Kieran said when he stood up again.

  “It is no matter,” she said breezily. “You will not live much longer to regret it.”

  “Can I ask why?” Kieran said, his left hand still clutching the knife out of sight. “I have carried out Lord Sanheim’s orders as asked. I have been his faithful servant.”

  “Is that why you cavort with his known enemy?” Carman asked.

  “I’m keeping an eye on her,” Kieran responded. “I can faithfully report any threat to him.”

  Carman smiled again.

  “You are such a good liar, Kieran,” she said. “It almost makes me want to spare you. But you are no servant of Lord Sanheim. If you were, he wouldn’t have personally asked me to kill you.”

  Kieran saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He almost shook his head, but it was too late. Instead, he decided a different approach was in order.

  “And like a good little vassal, you came running,” Kieran said.

  The smile on Carman’s lips faltered.

  “I told you,” she said, “I am no vassal.”

  She muttered words and aimed her spear, but Kieran was already moving. The blast took out a lamp and a chunk of the wall behind him.

  “Sure you aren’t,” Kieran continued. “I guess you’re more like an errand boy. Sorry, girl. It’s a little hard to tell in your getup. It’s very butch.”

  Kieran kept moving as two more blasts hit nearby.

  “Now why are you purposely trying to annoy me?” Carman asked.

  A voice cleared his throat behind the witch and she turned just as Tim Anderson unloaded a point-blank blast from his shotgun. Kieran watched him calmly pump the gun and fire again and again. Within a few seconds, he heard the empty click of the chamber. Tim had run out of ammunition.

  However, instead of doing any damage, the blasts seemed to dissolve into the air in front of her. It was as if she had an invisible shield.

  “I was going to let you live,” Carman told Tim. “Lord Sanheim did not specifically mention killing you. But after that attempt, I think I’ve changed my mind.”

  Tim didn’t even have a chance to react. She jammed her spear into his shoulder and twisted. Tim cried out in pain. Carman quickly withdrew the spear and back-handed Tim, who went flying against the wall behind him, landing with a sickening thud.

  With those few precious moments, Kieran ran forward, intending to stab Carman in the back with the knife in his hand. But she was too quick for him, turning around and facing him with a smile on her face. She simply reached out and grabbed him by the throat. Carman held him up in the air. He tried to bring the knife around, but before he could, Carman threw him back, sending him sprawling on the floor.

  Kieran lay in a daze on the floor. He saw a movement by the wrecked door and watched as the Headless Horseman walked in.

  “Just in time,” Carman said when she saw the fictional phantom arrive.

  She aimed her spear at Kieran and smiled.

  Kieran saw the jet of green fire come toward him, but there was nothing he could do. He lay on the floor and waited for oblivion.

  *****

  The Headless Horseman leapt in front of the shot, which promptly knocked him to the ground on top of Kieran.

  The Horseman was up before Kieran knew what hit him, his sword in his hand. He swung at her, but Carman deflected it with her spear. The Horseman unleashed a series of blows, forcing Carman to back up a step.

  Kieran looked over at Tim’s crumpled form and knew that the editor wasn’t getting up anytime soon. Next to him, he saw both the shotgun and something else that gave Kieran hope. Tim had propped the shield by the wall. He might have been planning on using it, but needed both hands for the shotgun. Kieran could have told him not to waste the ammunition. Whatever Carman might be vulnerable to, he doubted shotgun slugs were on the list.

  But the shield… Kieran remembered who had given it to him and what he’d said at the time. Inlaid with silver, it was designed to repel faerie magic. He didn’t know if Carman technically counted as faerie, seeing as she was originally from Greece. But it was worth a shot.

  He started crawling in Tim’s direction, hopeful to stay out of the larger fight until he could get his hands on the shield.

  Seemingly oblivious to the figure making his way slowly through the rubble, Carman and the Headless Horseman fought furiously. To Kieran, it looked like a bizarre, overly violent dance at times. The Horseman swung his sword with his right arm, Carman blocked with her spear and then tried to strike at the Horseman, who dodged out of the way.

  Kieran thought the Horseman was moving slower than normal, an impression that was confirmed a moment later when he abruptly surged forward, swinging his sword and, when blocked, suddenly moving in to hit Carman with a blow from his left arm.

  He was testing her, Kieran thought. He was purposely trying to assess her strengths and weaknesses.

  The tactic worked. The blow caught Carman unprepared, connecting with her face. If it had been him that the Horseman hit, Kieran was sure the blow would have killed him. But Carman seemed to absorb it as if her head were made of stone. She even smiled a little.

  It’s a trap, Kieran thought.

  He wanted to shout out loud, but it was already too late. Kieran watched as Carman rammed her spear into the Horseman’s shoulder. The Horseman reeled back with the spear sticking out of him. Carman came after him, punching and kicking.

  To Kieran’s surprise, the Horseman didn’t go down. Instead, he continued dodging, while absorbing some blows. The former cavalry officer calmly switched his sword to his left hand and then started laughing. The laughter seemed to echo throughout the apartment, and Kieran wanted to cover his ears. He concentrated on crawling to the far side of the room without getting caught in the crossfire. He was only a few feet away.

  The Horseman moved forward, still with Carman’s spear sticking out of his shoulder. He attacked one-handed, but now Carman had nothing to defend herself with. She ducked out of the way of several attacks, before the Horseman’s sword came down in a sweeping arc intended to cut her in half.

  Kieran initially thought Kate had won. The blow was well-aimed, and Carman couldn’t dance out of the way fast enough.

  Instead, Carman raised her arm and caught the sword edge on her wide, gold bracelet. To Kieran’s shock — and the Horseman’s too evidently — the bracelet blocked the sword in its tracks.

  That’s impossible, he thought.

  The two figures were locked together for a moment, the Horseman t
rying to force the sword down and Carman defying him with just a bare arm and a bracelet. Carman lunged toward the Horseman and ripped her spear out of his shoulder.

  Carried forward by the unexpected move, the Horseman had just regained his balance when the next blow came. Carman jammed her spear right through the Horseman’s chest, then put one foot against his torso and jerked it back out again. As the Horseman staggered back, Carman swung with her right arm, a blow that caught the phantom off guard and sent him sprawling across the apartment.

  Kieran saw his chance. He didn’t have time to wonder if it would work. He only knew if he didn’t do something soon, they were all going to die. He stood up, grabbed the shield and turned back to watch Carman advancing on the Horseman, who was still prostrate on the ground.

  “Hey, wicked witch of the east,” Kieran said, keeping the shield low out of her line of sight. “Did you leave your broomstick at home?”

  “I forgot about you,” Carman said, and that eerie smile danced on her lips again. She raised her spear, pointed it at Kieran, and muttered words under her breath.

  “Now die,” she said.

  A huge, bright green bolt erupted toward him, and Kieran brought up the shield. Her spell didn’t even scratch the shield, instead bouncing right off it and hitting Carman directly in the chest. Kieran saw the air in front of her ripple. Whatever invisible shield she had around her was burnt away in an instant and the green ball of flame kept coming toward her. Carman was knocked back through the wall and half-way across the parking lot outside, making a crater when she hit the asphalt.

  “You first,” Kieran said.

  Kieran looked through the massive hole in Tim’s apartment wall.

  “I don’t think you’re getting your security deposit back,” Kieran said.

  The parking lot lights created a glare, but Kieran could just see Carman as she crawled out of the crater and stared up at him. Her golden robes were charred and smoking, but she looked relatively intact. At least she isn’t smiling anymore, Kieran thought.

  As Carman watched, the Horseman rose up behind Kieran and stood beside him. Whatever damage the witch had done appeared to be fixed. The Horseman seemed as strong as ever. Kieran smiled at him and handed him the shield.