by Sam Cheever
Hold on, the feminine voice told me. I opened my mouth to object when Kanish went into a vertical spiral, tail and teeth whipping the air as she spun so fast I had to slam my eyes closed to keep from throwing up.
By the time she slowed to a stop, two more Demons were plunging toward the ground, bleeding from an array of wounds no doubt caused by her razor-sharp spikes and talons.
She rolled horizontal again, her sides heaving. Warm wetness bathed my thigh. I looked down to find a long gash along her body, just in front of her wing. “Are you okay?” I asked, wishing I had Sebille’s healing magic.
I can fly, but there won’t be any more acrobatics, she told me in a breathy voice.
A dark shape dropped quickly from the sky. Too quick. I barely had time to get my sword up before the Demon hit. He slammed a fist into my arm as I swung. Pain radiated through my arm and it went numb.
The sword fell from my grip and tumbled away. Snarling in rage, the monster grabbed me, wrapping its fingers around my throat and squeezing. The fingers were rough against my skin and felt like steel bands around my throat.
I clawed at his scaly hands, trying to get some air, and my energy flared against his skin, causing him to jerk in surprised pain. Unfortunately, he didn’t let go. But his reaction gave me an idea.
Stars danced in front of my gaze. My eyes felt like they were bulging out of my head.
I shoved fear away and focused hard on my energy, finding it coiled in my core and grasping it before I lost my concentration. As soon as I had hold of the magic, I yanked it forward, slammed my hand against the Demon’s face, and drove a massive dose of energy into his head.
Silvery light blasted from my palm and wrapped around his head, drawing a panicked scream from his throat. His body tensed, the fingers around my throat tightening until something creaked inside my neck.
My throat was collapsing. I could already feel the weakness his destruction was causing in my limbs.
In pure desperation, I pulled everything I had left into my hand and shot him with a final blast of my flagging energy.
It was finally enough.
The monster’s fingers let go of my throat and he drifted backward as Kanish shot away, his wings giving two half-hearted beats on the air before they went slack and he plunged toward the ground.
I sucked in a tortured breath, pain screaming through my throat and chest as the air scraped over my damaged throat. My oxygen-starved brain was muzzy. There was something I needed to remember, but I couldn’t quite grasp it.
A long, black shape rose above us, red eyes gleaming as the remaining Demon reached out and raked its claws along Kanish’s exposed side. He surged forward and clamped his teeth onto the dragon’s wing, twisting violently to inflict maximum damage.
She screamed, her body falling into a roll as she fought to get free of the Demon.
I shook my head in an attempt to clear it and held on tight as Kanish’s binding magic slid away. She needed every bit of magic she had to stay in the air and fight the demon.
I knew I needed to do something.
Despite Kanish’s efforts, we were falling fast, the ground flying up to meet us.
We had only seconds before we crashed. And it was all I could do to keep my seat.
My energy stores were empty. My sword had dropped goddess knew where, and I couldn’t release my grip on the dragon or I’d risk falling.
Then I realized that, either way, I was going to die.
It took me a beat to wrap my mind around that and another beat to accept it.
I did the only thing I could.
I closed my eyes, thanked the Universe for a short but entertaining life, and released my hold on Kanish.
My eyes snapped open, my hands flashed out, and I grabbed hold of the Demon’s wing as I fell away.
She released Kanish’s wing to scream in agony as my weight stretched the ligaments of her wing. She reared back, slashing at me with her claws as the dragon shot away.
Safe.
I sighed, glad Kanish would live, and wrapped myself around the wing, holding onto it with everything I had.
Agony speared through me as the Demon twisted around and raked at me with her claws.
I focused on the ground flying up to meet me, willing myself to tune everything else out.
We were seconds from death when a two-inch-long bug buzzed past and magic sliced, green and deadly, into the Demon.
She went limp and I released the wing, letting her fall to the ground before me.
Warm energy spread beneath me and I eased to the hard, cold ground a moment later.
Sebille flashed into full size, eyeing me. “I can’t leave you alone for a minute,” she complained crankily. “Look how much trouble you’ve gotten yourself into.”
I tried to laugh but it hurt too much. “I’ve decided I really don’t like Demons.”
“It’s just as well. I’m pretty sure they don’t like you much either.”
She laid her hands on my back and healing warmth infused the torn skin there. Then came the rebuilding energy, which hurt like a giant pimple on date night. Agony bit my skin like a thousand red ants and I bit my tongue against it, determined not to scream.
A small, warm body curled against mine and the pain eased away. I sighed, wrapping myself around Mr. Wicked. “Hey, buddy. Thanks.” Then I let myself fall into blissful sleep. m
“Miss?”
I was so tired. I swatted at the pesky fingers poking my shoulder. “Go away.”
“Miss, I think Miss Sebille needs your help.”
I groaned, my back and shoulders stiff from lying on the hard ground. And I was so cold…
Hobs’ words finally sank in and sleep fled. My eyes shot open and I sat up too fast, vertigo taking me for a moment. Holding my head, I groaned again. “What happened? Where’s Sebille? Where’s Wicked?”
“She told me to let you rest,” Hobs said, his face clearly displaying how unhappy he was. “But she needs you now.”
I shoved to my feet, taking stock of my condition. I had residual stiffness and a dull ache across my back from the healing. I took a shallow breath until it eased. I looked at Hobs. “Where is she?”
He held out a hand and lifted a light brown eyebrow, willing me to take it.
Knowing I’d probably regret it, I did.
My feet left the ground, wind scoured past, and all the air in my lungs whooshed out. We stopped so suddenly my internal organs slammed against the front of my body and my hair fell over my face.
I opened my mouth and sucked in a breath, trembling. “What in the goddess’s least favorite shoes just happened?”
“Shhh!” Hobbs held a finger in front of his lips. He pointed past the big rock that was shielding us. “Over there,” he whispered.
I peered carefully over the rock. What I saw made my blood run cold.
The Mongs stood in a half-circle around the fire. Walt was free, and he crouched beside the fire, his hands glowing as he chanted with his eyes squeezed shut. Magic swirled in the air around the family, but it stopped just beyond the fire, kept at bay by a wall of magic I couldn’t see.
I was pretty sure I knew the source of the wall since the Mage was holding a blood-jeweled athame to Sebille’s throat.
Hobs shifted, pulling Slimy from his nest in the Christmas scarf. The hobgoblin placed the frog on top of the rock, where he proceeded to blink and shiver. “The knife is pulling magic from Sebille,” he told me. “It’s keeping the Seers’ magic at bay.”
I nodded. “How long have they been at an impasse?”
Hobs shrugged. “Long enough for my toes to just about freeze off.”
Given that the hobgoblin had shown little susceptibility to the cold to that point, I figured it had been a while. “What is the Mage trying to do?”
“Right now, I think she’s just trying to escape the trap. But she said something about getting rid of the rest of the Seers and owning Plex.”
Power and control. Every bad guy in
the world wanted either money or power. Or both.
I sighed. “Well, that’s not very original, but it explains a lot.”
“Do we have a plan?” I asked Hobs.
“I was hoping you’d have one,” Hobs whispered.
I thought about it. To my untrained eye, it appeared the Mongs just needed something to tip the scales in their favor. We needed to get Sebille away from the Mage. I glanced at Hobs. “If I distract her, do you think you could grab that knife?”
He nodded enthusiastically.
I thought about it a moment longer. If I simply walked into the clearing, the Mage would know I was trying to distract her. She hadn’t gotten where she was without being very clever.
I had an idea. “Hobs, do you still have that bag?”
“It stinks in here,” I complained to Hobs.
He was eyeing me with a wide gaze, keeping his distance as I wriggled and shoved at the skin over my shoulders.
The world around me was mottled under a red glow. It was like wearing rose-covered glasses under a cloudy sky. My nostrils flared under the sulfurous stench that permeated the scaly skin covering me. “Are my eyes glowing?”
Hobs’ only response was to take a step back.
I took that as a firm, yes. “Okay,” I whispered. “Are you ready?”
He swallowed hard, his Adam’s Apple bobbing in his skinny throat. Though his eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his head, he nodded.
“Okay, let’s do this then.”
I reached for his arm. The hobgoblin winced, stepping away. Fear laid claim to his adorable face, making me feel like the monster I was portraying. “It’s me, Hobs. I won’t hurt you.”
He swallowed again, then took a shaky breath and offered me a skinny limb.
I wrapped my scale-covered fingers around the pale offering and gave him a smile.
He went entirely colorless.
Oops! I just showed him my razor-sharp teeth. My bad.
“Sorry,” I whispered.
I stepped around the rock and tugged him with me. He stumbled a little as I’d instructed him to do, and I pushed him closer to the woman holding Sebille hostage.
Wilshire Montague a.k.a. Diandra gave me a surprised glance. “What’s this?”
I made my voice as deep and gravely as I could. “Prisoner.”
She looked at Hobs, who was shivering and pitiful on the ground between us, and I watched her dismiss him as a non-threat.
I almost smiled.
Sebille’s gaze was locked on me, watching carefully. I let my eyes widen and gave her a little finger wave where the Mage couldn’t see it.
Sebille rolled her eyes.
That made me want to grin. For the good of everybody, I restrained myself. I glanced at the Mongs across the fire. “What’s all this?”
It was a mistake to ask a question. I’d known it would be a risk. But my job was to distract the Mage and, short of breaking into a waltz or busting out in song, talking was the only way I knew to do that.
“This is my business, Demon. You forget yourself.”
I shrugged stepping closer to the Mong end of the circle and earning myself several alarmed glances. I would have tried to look harmless, but that would have really alerted the Mage so I growled at the Seers.
A quick jolt of black energy shot out of the wall and zapped my backside. I yelped and glared at the Mongs.
When I turned around, Wilshire was staring at me, an assessing look in her eyes.
And Hobs was not where I’d left him.
I smiled, showing her my teeth, and saw the moment when she realized the jig was up.
Hobs was a blur on the air, his brightly colored scarf leaving green and red stains on the air as he zoomed past and away.
The Mage looked down at her empty hand, and Sebille turned, placing her glowing palms over Wilshire’s face and sending a burst of energy into her mind. The Mage twitched violently and started to sag toward the ground.
A cool breeze announced Hobs’ arrival next to me. A pair of blinking black eyes stared over at the Mage from the hobgoblin’s scarf.
Sebille was turning toward the Mongs
“Watch out for her,” Slimy warned.
I turned back just as Wilshire straightened again, a grim smile on her pretty face, and sent a bolt of black energy toward Sebille.
The Sprite leaped into the air, changing form and skittering away before the energy hit her, but it shot across the clearing and hit the Mongs, exploding into blue-black flames that threw them off their feet.
“No!”
Time slowed as Wilshire started forward, another ball of black energy roiling in her palm. Smoke lay thick upon the area where she’d engaged the attack, and I couldn’t see Walt and his family on the other side.
I didn’t know if they were safe or dead. But fear was like poison in my belly.
She’d hit them hard.
The smoke split apart and all five Mongs stepped through, their hands outstretched and their eyes pure, glossy black. Their lips were moving in a constant chant, their steps sure. As one, they threw the dust from their hands into the flames of Walt’s fire and it flamed into a solid wall of flickering orange and red heat that rolled up to the edges of the circle and flashed around it, enclosing the Seers and the Mage in the circle together. The energy that had divided the circle disintegrated into thick, black smoke and the Mongs walked through it, their forms encompassed by spitting gray strings of energy that danced on the magic-clogged air.
As I watched, the strings snapped out and grabbed the Mage by each wrist, each ankle and around the throat. Every individual strand of magic initiated from a different Mong, and when they tugged, they brought her to the center of the flaming circle, jerked her to her knees, and wrapped her in a dozen glistening strands of magic.
She threw her head back and screamed as the magic did its thing.
“They’re pulling the energy out of her,” Slimy said, sounding awed.
A moment later, the magic strands turned to ash and dropped to the icy ground. Diandra/Wilshire didn’t move. She remained kneeling, head bowed and eyes blankly staring.
The Wilshire Plex Seer walked out of the darkness, stepping over the circle and breaking it.
And the magic fire died in one gasp of smoke-scented air.
22
Home Sweet Home
The Mongs blinked, the black fading from their eyes, and looked at each other.
“We did it,” Walt said. He grinned, and his family sent up a cheer, clapping him on the back. “We did it,” he said again, looking at Wilshire Montague as if he couldn’t believe it.
I started forward and he flinched. “Oh, sorry,” I told him. I grabbed the Demon skin I’d pulled from the burlap sack, tugging it off my head and shoulders. “It’s me.”
He eyed the collapsed Demon head and grinned. “How’d you do that? It looked so real.”
“It’s a long story,” I told him. “But I got the idea from having Skinwalkers crash a party of mine.”
Mrs. Mong hugged me, though she grimaced at the Demon skin I was still half wearing. “Thank you, Naida. We’ve been trying to identify Wilshire for decades. But we never imagined it was sweet Diandra.” She frowned. “She’s made it impossible to do our jobs as Seers.”
I frowned. “Is that why your family didn’t take their places at the gate?”
She nodded. “Though, it’s not as you think. We did embrace our responsibilities, but not as controllers of the gate. We’ve been hiding in plain sight for a century, waiting for the witch to show herself.”
“Unfortunately, we believed the fiction about the Wizard,” Mr. Mong said. “Diandra did a good job spreading false information. It effectively threw us off her trail.”
“So, there never was a Wizard?” Sebille asked.
“Apparently not,” Walt responded. “And she obviously didn’t fling herself off the ridge.”
Despite myself, I was impressed. Diandra had done a pretty effective bi
t of spell work that had only required writing false histories of the Dark Rages. “But how is it that the Mage didn’t know what or who you were all these years?”
Walt lifted his palms and indicated our surroundings. “This is more than the Wilshire Plex Seer’s living room. It’s a mini-dimension, unknown to the Mage until she came through the portal for the first time. This dimension has cloaked Wilshire Plex in anonymity, hidden our magic.” Walt frowned. “I should have known better than to bring Diandra…Wilshire…here. I endangered everybody. But I believed she was a Seer.”
“No, son,” his father said. “This reckoning has been a long time coming. It is good we finally met her here.”
“How’d she get your whole family?” I asked.
Grandma Mong sighed, “I’m afraid that’s my fault. The Mage sent a summons using Gus’s workings. He was checking the perimeter as he does every day at this time, ensuring it hadn’t been breached. His fire workings were untended. I should have known it wasn’t him but I reacted and we all came quickly as the summons requested. Of course, as soon as he felt the violation Gus returned, but it was already too late.”
“Who’s Gus?” Sebille asked.
The Seer with the watch lifted a hand. “That would be me.” We watched Gus collect Wilshire, slapping handcuffs on her wrists that looked like polished ebony. He gave me a nod. “Nice work, Keeper. It’s been an honor working with you.” Tugging the watch from his pocket, he narrowed his gaze on me. “I believe you might be late for something?” He spun one thick finger over the face of the watch, counterclockwise. “Oh, look at that. Not late at all.” He grinned at us before tugging his prisoner to her feet.
I shook my head. “And that gobbledygook you fed me when Walt and I came to visit you?”
He looked offended. “What gobbledygook?” But I was pretty sure I heard him chuckling as he started away, the Mage in tow.
“Wait!” I called out to him.
He stopped, turning back. “That was you on the ladder, wasn’t it? At the wrinkle?”
He inclined his head. “Where dimensions cross, bonds are formed, bargains set.” He smiled. “We’ll meet again, Keeper.”