by Nazri Noor
“What is that?” Pierce said, his anger forgotten, his eyes reflecting the scintillant purple of the orb.
Through tears, through a voice thick with joy, Crystal answered. “It’s the one that got away.” She hugged it to her chest. “Baby came back to Mama.”
Adriel grunted, pushing himself off the ground, his injured hand leaving a bloody print in the grass. “I still have the other hand,” he said, his breathing labored. “I still have four talons. Asmodeus promised. If I slaughter you, princeling, then I will have a place at her side.”
I stared at him, mouth agape, more concerned by all his proclamations about Mother than my own potential demise. Was this creature telling the truth? I scowled at Adriel, the bravado filling my blood. Spineless? Was that what Mother had said? No. I would not die a coward.
“Come and try,” I dared him, pushing my hair away from my face. I felt empty, both in my stores of magic and my emotions. Whatever happened next would happen, and that would be it. “Come and try to kill me.”
Adriel’s words came in one exhilarated breath. “With pleasure.”
And for the third time that afternoon, Adriel screamed in agony.
My mouth hung open as I watched the massive fist closed around his wrist, not simply intent on breaking his claws, but breaking his arm entirely. Then a second fist closed in on Adriel’s stomach. His wings folded in a final attempt to protect him, but the fist connected, sending the angel flying into and through the wall of the farmhouse.
I looked up, then up, and up again to search for the face of my savior. I could scarcely believe my eyes.
“Hornbellow?”
Steam emanated from the great brass automaton’s head, the pinpricks of light where his eyes should be glowing an ominous orange. His voice rumbled from deep inside his chassis. “Have you been harmed, Master Quilliam?”
“No,” I said, grinning. “Thanks to you.”
Pierce sauntered over from retrieving his fallen dagger, slipping them both into their sheaths at his waist, then clapping one hand across Hornbellow’s massive shoulders. He yelped, then clutched his wrist, looking down at his scalded hand, then accusingly back up into Hornbellow’s face.
“Can’t believe I’m saying this,” Pierce said, “but it’s good to see you again, you overgrown coffeepot.”
Crystal came over, her mouth hanging hugely open as she tilted her head back, looking up into the odd, helmet-like structure that represented Hornbellow’s head and face.
“A talking cat, a flying book, and now, this guy?” Crystal didn’t even bother containing her awe, smiling hugely at Hornbellow. “I guess meeting you losers wasn’t the worst thing in the world, after all. Hi there. I’m Crystal.”
Hornbellow lowered his head, his insides rumbling amicably. “Hornbellow is pleased to meet you, Little Miss.”
Mr. Wrinkles slunk up close to Hornbellow, but, being marginally smarter than Pierce, didn’t actually press up against him. He lingered between his legs, rolling around in the grass and basking in the warmth of his body.
“Now, this does beg the question,” Dantaleon said. “How did you find us?”
“Hornbellow has always had authorization to use the Hexus for his days off, but never has. Master Quilliam’s presence was not difficult to trace, but it kept shifting. It took days to find you, but now that the task is accomplished, Hornbellow is pleased.”
Pierce snapped his fingers. “You hear that, Quill? If he can still use the Hexus, then that means we can probably hitch a ride back to your apartments. Problem solved.”
The sky darkened, the wind blowing to the telltale noise of tinkling jewels, chains, and bells. “I knew I forgot something,” said a woman’s voice.
30
My blood curdled. We turned, and there she stood, arms folded, eyes narrowed with all of a mother’s disappointment. Asmodeus snapped her fingers.
“There. It is done. None of you may use the Hexus now.”
Hornbellow’s chassis creaked as he looked down at his huge hands, then up into Mother’s face. “Hornbellow feels no loss. It is difficult to mourn a gift that was so rarely used. Hornbellow is only pleased to be with Master Quilliam once more.”
Asmodeus scoffed, her jewels and chains tinkling as she spread her arms to gesture at our group. “Why must everyone be so impertinent? When this is all over, automaton, I will personally haul you back to the Palace of Veils and break you down into parts myself.”
“Is this the mom?” Crystal said, whispering loudly to Pierce. “Because yikes.”
Asmodeus squinted. “And then there’s this human witch.” She turned to me, her head cocked. “Is she the reason you refuse to come home, Quilliam? That you continue to defy me? Perhaps I should kill her first.”
I stood in front of Crystal, knowing full well that Asmodeus could burn through my body to reach her in an instant, but it was the principle of it.
“Leave her out of this. I’ve had enough of your manipulations, Mother. I’m not coming home.”
Mr. Wrinkles’s surprised “Mrrow” had him springing to attention, and he sat up at last, looking from me, to Asmodeus, and back. Pierce looked at me intently, but said nothing. He understood, perhaps more than anyone, why we couldn’t go back.
Asmodeus scoffed again. “And I haven’t welcomed you home, boy. You failed, again. Those two angels are dead, but not by your hand. New assignment. I wish for you to capture the third one.”
The roof of the farmhouse exploded, showering the ground in a rain of shingles and splinters. Adriel soared into the clouds, emanating a noise somewhere between agonized howling and maniacal laughter.
“Ah, so he has regained his power, then? Excellent. Quilliam. Pursue him.”
I flung my hand at the sky. “That angel? The one you worked with? The one that you manipulated? You knew all along, didn’t you? About the Thirteenth Choir, about Nuriel, Baradiel, Adriel – all of it.”
Mother folded her arms, her eyes filling with an odd blend of malice and amusement. “Do you know the problem with being the Prince of Lust? Everyone assumes that I’m just some overworked sexpot. Promiscuous. Hedonistic. And you know what? They aren’t wrong. But Asmodeus is so much more than that. With copulation, depending on the persons involved, comes procreation. And you know what’s more interesting to me than the bedroom, Quilliam? Genetics. Specifically, of the arcane sort.”
I raised my head to the sky. Adriel was already gone, but I knew we hadn’t seen the last of him, especially now that I knew how much interest Mother had taken in him.
“This was meant to be a test of your will, Quilliam, to see how you would stack up against the unprecedented genesis of this celestial abomination. Call it a case of intellectual curiosity. There’s something so interesting about the creation of new species, new races. But an angel that kills its own brothers, then siphons their power? Utterly fascinating.”
I shook my head. “I can’t stand this any longer. I’ve had enough of your machinations, Mother. I’m not your plaything. I’m not coming home.”
Asmodeus’s lips split into a strange, confident smile. “Excellent. Message received. But perhaps this will change your mind.”
She stretched out her finger, the tip of one bronzed nail glowing orange. A bolt of fiery lightning leapt from her finger, slamming into Pierce’s body and wreathing his skin with arcs of horrible electricity. Pierce screamed, then fell to the ground, twitching, convulsing.
“No,” I said. “Stop. You’re hurting him.”
“You can make it stop,” Asmodeus said, nonchalant. “All you have to do is obey.” Her lips didn’t move, but I could hear the rest of her words in my mind. “One by one, Quilliam. Piece by piece. I will take away everything you love.”
Crystal shouted something indistinct. The purple crystal ball launched from her hands, shooting like a cannonball towards Mother’s torso. Asmodeus sneered and flicked her wrist. The crystal ball ricocheted, deflected by her power, then slammed into the farmhouse, bringing down o
ne of its walls. And all the time, Pierce screamed and screamed.
“Enough of this,” I muttered, breathing deeply as I stepped forward, anticipation and fear coating my skin in sweat as I placed my body between Asmodeus and Pierce. But I fell to the ground, pushed away as Hornbellow took my place instead.
He towered over Pierce, Mother’s spell lancing off his armor ineffectually, electricity and flame cascading from the plating.
“Insolence,” Mother hissed.
“Not insolence,” I snarled. “Justice. No more of your lies, Mother. This ends, here and now.”
Asmodeus lowered her hand, then laughed, her voice tinkling as sweetly as her jewels. “And are you going to stop me, little princeling? Do you think you could even begin to tickle me with your feeble magics? Come.” She spread her arms, thrusting out her chest. “Come and try.”
“Together,” I murmured to the others. “I need you now.”
Finally I had to confess to myself that support was acceptable when needed. I was an ant against the might of a demon prince, but perhaps, with the aid of my odd, ragtag assemblage of friends, we could do something. Anything. Whether allies or objects, brothers or books, I had to accept, once and for all, that I wasn’t yet enough.
Crystal’s hand wrapped around my wrist. Mr. Wrinkles sidled up to me, then leapt up on my shoulders, pressing one paw against my neck. Dantaleon, surprising me once more, drifted down into my open hand, resting there. For the first time in my life, I realized that I must have truly looked like a proper wizard, my familiar on my shoulder, my arcane focus in my hand. Then, last of all, came Pierce’s touch, clammy with sweat on my arm.
“You don’t have to,” I murmured.
“I want to,” he croaked. “You almost took a bullet there for me. Well, you know.”
“Shush,” I said, smiling. Too many action films, this one. We just had to sort this last thing out, and then I’d be free. Pierce could watch action movies all day long, for all I cared. We could be free.
I knelt on the ground, pressing one palm flat against the earth, whispering my wishes into the grass. “Ignis grandia.”
The rush was magnetic, electric, the magical energies of my allies pouring into my skin, funneled into a single channel down into the earth. Asmodeus chuckled and shook her head.
“What foolishness is this, Quilliam? Do you intend to reach the center of the earth, to detonate the planet and end it all? How dramatic. Truly my son. Come home. Come, let’s end this.”
The sweat dripped down my forehead, down the end of my nose as more and more of my magical fire reached into the earth, as the ground pulled at my skin, at my very soul with the hunger of my spell. I’d never done this before, but I hoped that it would work. It had to. I grunted, gritting my teeth against the pull, against the pain, then lifted my face towards Asmodeus.
“With all due respect, Mother: go to hell.”
She frowned, confused, then screamed as a pit of flame opened up beneath her. Fire licked at the tips of her hair, at her skin. Asmodeus began to sink into the ground as the pit, slowly yet surely, absorbed her in a growing pool of blistering magma. It was working.
“Keep going, Quill,” Crystal cried out, the air filled with a roaring that sounded like a jet engine, like dragons. “Keep doing it.”
I poured more of my soul and my energies into the soil. The gout of fire was so strong that the flames were surging back up my arm. All the power that my friends were lending me was nearly overwhelming, ripping out of my body in a torrent that threatened to shake the earth. My shirt was on fire, but the flames didn’t hurt me. No, the pain was meant for Asmodeus, and Asmodeus alone.
Then the screaming stopped.
My heart leapt, seeing the top of Asmodeus’s head sink into the magma. All that remained was one of her hands flailing above the soil, its clawed fingers groping at air, no doubt wishing it could wring my neck. Within seconds, that had gone, too. And then all that remained was grass, no gaps in the earth, no bare soil to even hint that Asmodeus had once stood there.
I fell backwards, disengaging the circuit of power as I wrenched my hand away from the earth. The others broke apart, the separation heavy, almost painful, like magnets being pulled apart. I sat there, huffing and panting, my hands planted in cool, soft grass.
“You did it,” Pierce said, pushing himself up, wearing a triumphant smile. “You did it, Quill.”
“We did it,” I said, smiling back. “We all did.”
Ragged reassurances and words of congratulation went up from around our group. Hornbellow lumbered over to check on us, and even Mr. Wrinkles had nothing snippy to say, seeming to finally understand why we couldn’t go home anymore.
Hornbellow’s eyes gleamed with fire. “Will Master Quilliam be all right?”
“Yes, Hornbellow. I’ll be fine. I just need a minute. I just need some time.”
Tired. The spell had drained me. I cast my eyes across the steadily blurring silhouettes of my strange little family: a cat, a girl, a golem, a book, and a brother. We’d done the impossible. Until she found the power to put herself back together again, the Prince of Lust would no longer be a threat.
That could mean months, weeks, days, or minutes, but it bought us time. I slumped against the grass, chuckling as I stared up at a clear blue sky. We just needed some time to recover, to heal.
Heavy and exhausted, my eyes fell shut. All around me, the world fell silent.
31
My back was on something soft. It felt very much like a cloud, so comfortable, almost cool against my skin. I wondered if I’d died and gone to heaven. In my delirium, I chuckled. Demons didn’t go to heaven. Did they?
Then a thick, delicious smell entered my nostrils. Beans, perhaps, and meat, and tomatoes. That aroma, whatever it was, surely was close enough to heaven on earth. I opened my eyes, finding myself surrounded by a beaded curtain. To my stark horror, I realized that I was in Bastet’s bed.
I sat bolt upright, feeling at myself, realizing that I’d been stripped to the waist. It was embarrassing enough that we’d been such an imposition on the goddess, and now I’d sullied her bed, too? The curtain rattled as I parted it. The door from Bastet’s bedroom was open, which explained the smell.
Wearing only my jeans, I padded out, scratching awkwardly at my chest when I saw Crystal sitting crosslegged on the sofa, leafing through the pages of some magazine. In her lap was the crystal ball that had saved her life. She looked up, cocked an eyebrow, then whistled tauntingly.
“Pretty boy’s awake,” she said.
I raked at the back of my head, my fingers working through tangles of my hair. “How did we get here? Where is my shirt?”
“Burned clean off your body.” She furrowed her brows. “Don’t you remember? As for how we got here? Magic.”
“That’s impossible,” I said, shaking my head. “We’d all been squeezed clean of our reserves.” I looked down at my hands, expecting scorch marks, finding nothing but stray bits of grass. “At least, I was.”
“Kidding,” she said. “Farmhouse, right? We found a truck. I drove us here. We needed to load Hornbellow in the back. How else were we going to get here?”
I took my place on the couch opposite her, then looked over to where she pointed. Hornbellow had somehow arranged himself on the ground, the fires in his mouth and eyes dimmed, every flat surface on his body covered in a quantity of cats. He was holding Mr. Wrinkles in one hand, stroking his back gently with the other. Mr. Wrinkles had his eyes closed. I thought I could hear him purring from across the room.
“Nobody saw him coming in, don’t worry.” She winked. “Quick invisibility spell. Doesn’t last long, but it does the trick.”
I half grinned at her. “The dabbler wins the day again.”
She tapped the tip of her nose. “And I can drive, too. What a catch.”
I nodded at her crystal ball. “Speaking of catches, I’m surprise that thing didn’t split you open when it showed up.”
Crystal smi
led. “The one that got away. The Obliterata. I thought this baby had left me forever, but I guess it missed me.” She hugged it to her chest, then pressed a kiss against its surface. The purple crystal pulsed where her lips met it, as if reacting. “Mama missed you too.”
“Glad you found your artifact,” I said, scratching the back of my hand. “Reminds me of my books,” I added glumly.
The couch dipped. Pierce threw his arm across my shoulders. “We’ll find a way. We always do, right? Right.”
I shook my head, chuckling at his optimism, clapping a hand on his thigh. “Glad to see you’re okay.” I looked around the room, realizing one among our number was missing. “Dantaleon?”
Pierce sighed. “Disappeared after you passed out. I guess he was working with Prince Asmodeus all along.”
I should have known he would betray us. I was surprised that he didn’t rat on us earlier. It would have been far easier for Mother to track us down and have her way. I had to wonder if Dantaleon had hidden anything from her at all. What I did know was that he was going to be in a whole world of trouble when he returned to her service at the Palace of Veils. I seesawed between anger and loss, thoroughly unsure of how to feel about my mentor, even less sure that I would ever see him again.
“Here,” Bastet said, pushing a bowl into my hands. “Eat up. It’s chili. I’d say it’s good for you, but I’d be lying. It’s definitely delicious, though. And congratulations on staying alive.”
I shrugged, giving her a flat smile. “We tried our best. And sorry about your bed.”
She shrugged back. “No skin off my back. It’s the comfiest spot in the apartment, and you really did look half dead when they dragged you in here. I figured you’d need some proper rest.”