Down in Flames

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Down in Flames Page 3

by P. W. Catanese


  “Don’t worry about that,” Angela told him. “It’s only there in case this place is about to be discovered. We’ll seal it off completely if we have to.”

  Donny nodded. He took one more doubtful look up, hesitating.

  “Oh, relax, will you? Come on—I’ll join you,” Angela said.

  Donny let out a deep breath and stepped cautiously into the gap. The whistle of wind turned into a howl, and with every step he took, the temperature dropped a few more degrees. Just ahead, the walls were clad in ice. The ground was a rippling icy sheet as well, and he had to keep to the rocks that had been placed there like steps.

  The passage widened, leading to a sudden broad vista, and his breath caught in his throat. He had seen mountains before, on Earth and in Sulfur. But here stood the mighty, massive Himalayas, an endless expanse of black stone and white snow. The air was so crisp and clear that he witnessed everything in astonishing detail. Below him, an avalanche had left miles of hostile terrain, all sharp-edged rubble and gleaming ice. Much farther down, where the bands of ice and snow fed twinkly streams, he saw the first hints of green valleys. There wasn’t a village or road in sight.

  Angela spoke softly behind him. “Once there was a path that led to this temple, but an earthquake destroyed it hundreds of years ago. The temple was lost and forgotten, but not by us.”

  Donny stared and a chill shook his body. He couldn’t have said whether it was from the cold or from awe. “Wow.”

  “Wow, indeed. It really is quite a world that you miserable people occupy.”

  “Yeah,” Donny answered. “I wish everyone could see this.”

  “That would be nice except it’s exactly what we don’t want. The remoteness is the whole point. Now, if you’re done gazing at all this bleak magnificence, we need to move on to our final destination. We have people to see, monsters to catch, et cetera.”

  Donny’s teeth chattered and his muscles ached in the biting cold. He took one last look, wondering which way the mighty Everest was, and then followed Angela back to the temple that no other human had seen for centuries.

  “We’re going to Pillar Cataracta,” Angela told the keeper. The keeper nodded, and then worked her magic in the same way as Porta. A sweep of the hands transformed the eternal flame into what must have been a map of the entirety of Sulfur. Donny wished he could take his phone out and snap a picture to study later, but he had a feeling he might get a dagger through his heart if he tried. So he left his phone in his pocket and just tried to remember everything he could about the fiery map that appeared before him.

  It reminded him of a time he and his father were on a plane, and the plane flew over the Grand Canyon. The pilot had even gently tilted the plane to one side and then the other to give the passengers a better look. Sulfur was a massive cavernous world, narrowing and bulging and narrowing again, with more caverns branching left and right and dropping out of sight. A black vein ran through the middle, and Donny knew that must be the River of Souls that brought the newly dead into the underworld.

  With one palm raised and the other hand sweeping the air from right to left, the keeper scrolled across the world of Sulfur until she finally slowed on a specific place and waved it into closer view. Along the way, starlike points of light showed where portals could be opened. There were only a few of those points in Sulfur, compared to many thousands on Earth, but now the map had centered on one. The keeper formed the familiar door shape with her fingers, and drew her hands apart to open it wider. The ashen door appeared inside the wall of flame.

  “Thanks a bunch,” Angela told the keeper. She led Donny by the hand through the burning portal, out of a lost temple in Tibet, and back into Sulfur. But this was a far different corner than the one Donny now called home.

  CHAPTER 8

  The first thing Donny heard was a hiss directed at him. He was getting the hang of things now, and he immediately raised his hand and showed the mark on his palm to yet another one of those tiny long-armed keepers. This one was reaching for a short two-headed ax. But she relaxed when she saw the mark on Donny’s palm and heard Angela speak. “No need for homicide; he’s one of mine.”

  This portal occupied the back wall of a short tomblike space. Heavy iron bars blocked the exit. A pair of enormous guards in armor, almost as imposing as Grunyon, looked in from the other side. “It’s me, guys,” Angela said. “Angela Obscura of the Pillar Obscura. Member of the Infernal Council. I’m here by the invitation of Ungo Cataracta.”

  Metal squeaked as the guards looked at each other and nodded. One of them started to turn what looked like a ship’s wheel. With a shudder and groan, the gate rose off the ground. Angela ducked under before it was fully raised, and Donny followed. “You guys rock,” she called over her shoulder. “Toodles.”

  “Whoa,” Donny said as he saw what lay before them.

  The chamber they’d left was in a niche high on the cavern wall. A narrow ramp of stone built on a series of lofty arches led to the cavern floor a hundred feet below, curling as it descended in a nearly complete circle.

  The roof of Sulfur was lower here than near Angela’s pillar—less than a thousand feet, with the points of the giant stalactites much closer. It made everything feel more cramped and foreboding. The landscape was wilder, a labyrinth of natural pillars, mounds, and arches. More things grew here, especially some species of giant black fern as tall as telephone poles.

  One feature set this place clearly apart from Angela’s neighborhood. It didn’t seem possible for such a thing to exist, but there it was, not a half mile away: a waterfall tumbled from a hole in the ceiling, shedding swirling sheets of vapor. It was so large, it looked like it was coming down in slow motion. The bottom of the falls was hidden behind a mass of weird rock formations, but Donny heard its roar, rolling across the terrain like thunder. It was astonishing—like seeing an Empire State Building made of water.

  Angela knew why he had stopped to stare. “Yeah, I’m jealous of that,” she grumbled. “Wish I had one of those.”

  Donny stared for a while, wondering how it could be. Was there a giant ocean or lake somewhere above the roof of Sulfur, either inside the crust or up on the surface of whatever world they were inside? He was still trying to puzzle it out, and had become dimly aware that everything seemed to be growing brighter, when Angela diverted his attention.

  “Oh, look what’s coming,” she said.

  Knowing that “what’s coming” might mean any manner of amazing or horrifying thing, Donny whipped his head around. She was pointing at something to the right. When he saw what it was, and how close it was, he gulped a mouthful of air.

  “You sure do gasp a lot,” Angela said. “Seriously, I think you get most of your oxygen via gasping.”

  “We have to run,” Donny croaked.

  “Nah, we’ll be fine,” Angela said. She put her arm around his shoulders and held him in place.

  A cloud was about to engulf them. On Earth, this would not be a problem. But in Sulfur, the clouds were made of fire.

  “Let me go,” Donny said. He struggled to move, but her grip was like steel.

  “Nothing to worry about,” she murmured.

  “Angela, I’m a human! I’m not like you!” He jerked his shoulders, trying to break free, but she was too strong. The cloud of fire was almost upon them.

  Panic swept through Donny’s brain. He thrashed in place. Angela cradled his head with her other hand, putting her mouth to his ear. “Hush,” she said as he screamed. “It’ll be fine. You’ll see.”

  Donny might have trusted her, if it hadn’t been for what had happened to him not long before. Suddenly he was trapped in another moment, when an archdemon named Havoc had tied him to a chair and produced a jar filled with the Flames of Torment—the awful hellfire that had been used to punish human souls for eternity. That was pain like he’d never experienced before, and it had left a deep scar in his brain. He’d tried to put it behind him, but all the agony rushed back as vividly as yesterday. He s
creamed all the louder.

  Angela shouted, trying to be heard. “Cricket! It won’t hurt you! Quit freaking out!”

  Then the cloud was there, sweeping all around him. It didn’t hurt. Not at all. There was only light and warmth and a soft orange haze. It was like being inside a ray of sunlight.

  “See? You’re fine. I told you,” she said. “We have all kinds of fire. The clouds give light, but they don’t burn. Breathe, Cricket.”

  Donny managed to stop screaming, but then his breath caught in his throat. He concentrated and took a deep gulp of air and then another. He pulled up the bottom of his shirt to wipe the dampness off his cheeks. “You shouldn’t have held me like that. I was scared, couldn’t you tell?”

  “Yes, I could tell, and the way you were acting, you might have run right off the edge.” She didn’t sound entirely sympathetic. “For crying out loud, try to enjoy this for a second, will you?”

  Donny took another deep breath and straightened himself up, looking into the glowing mist all around him. Just when he started to relax and enjoy the sensation, it was over. The cloud floated past them, leaving a few curling strands behind. Donny swept his hand through one of the tendrils, and the light scattered and evaporated.

  “That’s good times, right?” she said. “Kid, you have to believe what I tell you. Now let’s go find Ungo.”

  CHAPTER 9

  They descended to ground level and followed a road made of wide slabs of stone. The tracks of chariot wheels had been grooved into the stone over the ages. The road was lined on both sides, those tall black ferns waving high overhead.

  As they made their way toward the great pillar, Donny realized what else was different about this corner of Sulfur. It was cooler and the air was misty, both thanks to the towering waterfall that pounded down from above. He saw tiny drops collecting on the fine hairs of his arm, and he could smell the water when he took a deep breath.

  “Dang, this humidity will make my hair curl like crazy,” Angela said, patting her tumbling reddish-brown mane.

  There weren’t nearly as many buildings around the foot of the Pillar Cataracta as there were around Angela’s pillar. This was more like a village than a metropolis, with humble dwellings amid a few impressive buildings. Donny spotted a steep pyramid that would have looked at home in some ancient Aztec city.

  It didn’t seem as densely populated here either. At first he just saw a few beings in the distance, harvesting ferns. Farther down the road, they passed a dozen imps gathered around another imp who was hitting himself on the head with a rock and staggering around, looking dazed, while the crowd howled with laughter.

  “What’s that all about?” asked Donny.

  “Stand-up comedian,” replied Angela.

  The road led to the entrance of a mansion carved into the pillar. The front door was at the top of a long, wide staircase that flared down to the road. At the bottom of the stairs, a pair of imps squatted on pedestals on either side. Donny thought they were statues at first, because their skin was shiny and red and cracked like old china, and they sat perfectly still. As he and Angela drew closer, the illusion was shattered as they lifted trumpets and sounded a deep, sour note.

  Angela smirked. “No need to ring the doorbell.”

  By the time they reached the bottom of the stairs, the tall door at the top swung open. “Heeeere’s Ungo,” Angela said.

  Donny gulped. He was glad the archdemon was a reasonable distance away. From that far off, he hoped Ungo wouldn’t notice his shocked expression.

  The archdemon had a cruel, terrible face. His lower jaw was shoved far to one side, with a single nasty tooth jutting high. Glowing orange eyes were buried deep under his brow. Strangest of all, the top of his head was cratered and cracked with wisps of smoke rising from within like a simmering volcano.

  “Ungo,” Angela called up with gusto. “You look marvelous.”

  “Angela Obscura,” Ungo said in a phlegmy, wheezy voice. “Join me inside, and we shall talk.” Donny felt those burning eyes shift toward him, and he was sure the smoke rising from the cratered head turned darker and thicker. “Is that a living mortal?” Ungo said.

  “It sure is,” Angela replied. Donny raised his hand to show the symbol on his palm—better safe than sorry. Ungo squinted at the fading mark. A thick puff of smoke shot from his skull.

  “It can wait there,” Ungo said. “A mortal has never set foot inside the Pillar Cataracta. And never will.”

  Donny bit down on his bottom lip and reminded himself to breathe normally.

  “It’s a he, if you’d like to know,” Angela clarified cheerfully. “Will he be safe by himself?”

  “Watchmen!” Ungo shouted, and the two on the pedestals turned to look at their master. “See that no harm comes to the mortal.” The imps nodded.

  “Don’t worry, Cricket. I won’t be long,” Angela said quietly.

  “Didn’t you say something about a monster on a murder spree?” Donny whispered back.

  “Nothing will happen this close to the pillar,” she assured him. “Come on—be a pal and just hang here for a while.”

  Donny clenched his teeth as a tide of anger rose inside him. “Okay, sure.” If he’d known he wouldn’t be welcome, he would have stayed back at the Pillar Obscura and played games with Tizzy.

  He sat on the bottom step for two solid hours. “Won’t be long,” he muttered. Every time he fidgeted, the watchmen on the pedestals jerked their heads around to see what he was doing. Donny got a closer look at their red skin. It looked like it had been painted on and baked, like ceramic, long before. Now it had started to chip and crack. Everything is so weird, he thought. He took out his phone, which had no signal, of course, and played games until the battery was almost dead. Then he broke into the snacks he’d packed for the trip, gobbling down string cheese and a granola bar. “You guys want one?” he asked the red imps, holding out a granola bar. They just scowled back.

  The door opened at last, and Angela and Ungo appeared at the top of the steps. They spoke quietly for a few more minutes. Smoke continued to leak from the fissures in Ungo’s head. Finally he bowed to Angela, fired another unpleasant look at Donny, and went back inside.

  Angela trotted down the steps with a puckish grin. “I think I reeled him in. But he said he won’t leave until they catch this beast that’s stirring up trouble. So tonight we’ll join the hunting party. Should be fun, right?”

  “Oh yeah,” Donny said flatly. “Probably too much fun.”

  CHAPTER 10

  A few hours later, when the fiery clouds withered away and gloom gathered, Ungo and a band of well-armed imps assembled at the foot of the stairs. Donny stared at the imps, trying to figure out what they called to mind. These had been glazed white, like a porcelain sink. He counted sixteen of them. Eight were tall and thick, and eight were half that size, barely as tall as Donny’s shoulders.

  They lined up for Ungo’s inspection, the eight small ones in front of the eight tall ones. Donny noticed the black emblems that had been painted onto their chests, and it suddenly clicked. “They look like chess pieces,” he said to Angela. The symbols represented the usual pieces: crowns for the king and queen, horses for the knights, and the usual designs for bishops, rooks, and pawns.

  “He’s got a whole set, both sides,” Angela replied. “They get painted black or white, and then they sit in a fire and end up glazed and shiny. This is only half of them. Now, stay here for a minute, okay?” Donny waited by himself as she walked away and engaged Ungo in yet another lengthy conversation. Donny passed the time by taking a closer look at the monstrous platoon in front of him. In some places, the white glaze had cracked and fallen away, revealing a silvery reptilian hide beneath. The pawns were armed with crossbows. The big ones had long-shafted weapons with heads that were part ax and part spear, along with what looked like bullwhips slung from the belts at their waists. Donny realized they were all staring back at him, and he dropped his gaze toward his feet.

  Ungo g
rowled something that Donny couldn’t hear, and the chessmen started to move. After they passed, Angela fell to the rear of the pack and waved for Donny to join her. It was the last thing Donny felt like doing. But he didn’t have another option, so he stood and followed.

  “You look grumpy,” Angela said.

  “I don’t feel very welcome here,” Donny told her under his breath. “What exactly are we looking for, by the way?”

  “We don’t know, now that you mention it,” Angela said. “Except that it’s large, strong, and overly fond of killing. Oh, and it attacks at night.”

  “That’s awesome,” Donny grumbled, looking at the darkening landscape. His nervous system was on full alert. As they followed Ungo and his chessmen, he kept glancing from side to side. He frowned when he saw the direction they were heading: straight into the maze of tall, dark stone formations.

  Angela tapped Donny on the shoulder and pointed up. “See the tiny bits of clouds that are still out? Those were just released. So it won’t get too dark.” Donny nodded, looking at the wisps of fire. At least he wouldn’t be stumbling around in total blackness.

  They were getting close to that massive waterfall. It sounded like rain and rolling thunder, a booming hiss that rose and fell as the noise swept over the obstacle-ridden terrain. The air grew wetter. Sheets of mist floated down, putting a slick coating on everything.

  The bottom of the falls was still hidden behind the strange rock formations, which looked like enormous wax figures that had melted beyond recognition. From a distance, Donny had thought those shapes were black, but now that he was closer, he could see that they were dark green. The green was a plush coat of moss that clung to every stony surface. Donny pushed his hand into the moss as they passed one formation, and his fingers sunk deep into the spongy growth. It made sense, he figured, in such a damp place. When he took his hand away, the moss sprang back into its original shape, leaving no trace of his touch.

 

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