by Kayla Krantz
“Oh, God,” Jack said, poking him in the shoulder. He sniffled, trying to move closer. The pain in his leg made sure that wasn’t far. “Shawn, can you hear me?”
Blood dripped from his nose and a crack devastated the remaining lens of his glasses. Shawn didn’t stir, and Jack had the sickening feeling that this would end the same way the fight with the Leviathan had—he would lose another friend.
Adjusting himself in the small space of the crushed car, he grabbed Shawn under his armpits, screaming out every time his injured thigh was jostled even the slightest. Using the last of his strength, he kicked away the shattered glass of the window and knocked away any remaining shards, ignoring the pricks of pain as they inflicted him with new cuts. With a massive heave, he pulled his friend from the wreckage, dropping him onto the pebbles outside. He screamed the entire time.
Jack didn’t know the statistics of the car exploding, but the smell of gas was stronger. He needed to get them a safe distance away, just in case. Sniffling again, he braced himself and grabbed Shawn, moving until the car was a distant shadow.
He dropped Shawn onto a pebbly patch of grass and screamed. This time, it was more out of frustration than pain. Shawn was pale, inhumanely so, and Jack was sure he was dead. He wailed again at the thought. Jack clapped his hands above Shawn’s face, doing anything he could think of to try to get the boy to come back to consciousness. For a second, he went to dig in his bag for smelling salts, but he didn’t have any. It was somewhere back in the car, and he wouldn’t go for it. Until Shawn was conscious again, he wouldn’t leave his friend’s side.
Shawn didn’t move. Jack sat on his haunches, crying as he looked from his leg to his friend. Even Rhys was quiet, and that left Jack to wonder why. Was he ramping up the dungeon, preparing it for the final blow to knock both Jack and Shawn off the board at the same time?
That made him remember the reason they’d crashed in the first place. The demon that had tried to get into the car. He couldn’t hear it anymore and wondered where it had gone. Was it waiting for the perfect moment to strike or had its purpose been fulfilled? Jack didn’t know, but he was sure of one thing: to finish the dungeon, they’d need to beat the big demon, they’d need to beat Asmodeus, but neither of them could even stand.
As if Rhys had been waiting for the most dramatic moment, the car exploded into a fireball that stretched high into the sky. Pieces of shrapnel scattered into the dirt a few feet away, and Jack closed his eyes, digging his bloody, dirty fists against his eyelids. He hated everything about himself. Milo would’ve figured something out by now, Jack was sure of that. Even Shawn would’ve had some clue. Jack didn’t even know how to get the metal out of his leg without bleeding to death.
“If I can interject into your self-loathing for a moment, you really are human beneath all the tough man bravado, aren’t you?” Rhys’ voice came through the sky. “That’s surprising.”
Jack squinted up through the darkness, unflinching. His eyes felt puffy and raw. He hadn’t realized how much he’d been silently sobbing until that moment. “This isn’t funny anymore, you know? At first, I could understand you doing this to us. We judged you without knowing you, and that was wrong. Me more than the rest of them, but Shawn doesn’t deserve to die for this.”
“You don’t get to decide that.”
Jack’s throat burned with the desire to tell Rhys that he didn’t either, but he chose to conserve the anger. Any energy he mustered at this point shouldn’t be squandered. Just as he finished speaking, the eerie white image of a specter flashed closer and closer to the burning remains of the car. Jack’s reaction was to avert his gaze, but then it landed on Shawn again. Looking or hearing...any and all of his senses could doom him. Moaning in agony, he stood up, leaning on one leg as he tried to sort out his options. He was hurt. Shawn was hurt.
The demon was not.
It floated around the car, the white image disappearing among the colors of the flames. Jack stayed in place, leg aching as he considered what to do. Could it be that the demon thought they had died in the crash? Before he could move, the specter emerged again, her body more human, more familiar. Slowly, she approached with careful step after careful step.
She was slender and pale. Pretty with a mess of brown hair, blue eyes, and a scatter of freckles across the bridge of her nose. Penelope, Shawn’s adopted sister. Jack was almost ready to collapse with relief at the thought of someone friendly when he caught the glint behind her eyes. He stiffened, recognizing the uneasiness that swept over him. It spoke of something dark, something evil.
“Hi there, sweetie,” she said, Penelope’s honey-sweet voice filling his ears.
Automatically, Jack’s heart skipped a beat in the way it did whenever she spoke to him, and he closed his eyes, trying to get his mind right. That’s not her, Rhys is tricking you.
When he opened his eyes again, the figure was closer, and Jack felt sick. She was smiling at him, sweet and inviting. She extended her hands, calling him in for a hug. Jack told himself not to do it. He thought of the marks on Shawn’s neck, the way that he’d almost tried to kill the both of them. Accepting the hug would mean accepting his death.
I won’t do it, he thought, but then his feet started to travel toward her anyway. He watched from a place far away. He had no control over any of his body and the feeling it was too late surged through him. He’d looked, he’d listened. Now he was hers.
The more he struggled, the faster his feet carried him. The smile on the Penelope demon-grew, exposing the sharp tips of a row of fangs. Jack stopped resisting and instead prepared himself for the inevitable. Just before he came to rest against her, he reached up and pushed with as much strength as he could muster, surprised to find that he could move his arms again. The demon stumbled backward, and Jack almost expected it to right itself in a matter of seconds. It didn’t. The body careened closer to the flames licking at the edge of the burning car.
Before the demon came into contact, the Penelope-veneer melted away exposing the face of a hag. It sneered at him before it turned and leaped into the fire, disappearing among the wreckage. Jack’s entire body shook, and he didn’t stop himself as he collapsed to a sitting position. He cradled the wound in his thigh as he watched the flames lick the night sky. The hag cackled an eerie laugh that echoed in the silence before it disintegrated to dust, blowing away in the wind.
26.
JACK DIDN’T HAVE the chance to study Shawn over before they were once again at the oasis. The change in scenes hardly registered to him besides the light overhead and the sweet smell of the air. He didn’t move for a long time. Just sat in place, staring across the lush green foliage. He wasn’t sure how he and Shawn had survived. He was stretched out beside Jack, lying in the same pose he’d taken when Jack pulled him from the burning car.
Jack sniffled and tried to move his leg. The metal was gone, and it didn’t hurt as much as it had in the dungeon, but there was a deep ache, a radiating pain that assured him it wouldn’t go away any time soon. Sighing, he let his leg relax and stared into the sparkling water. Part of him almost forgot what it was they were fighting for. In the process of fighting demons, it was as if he were destroying himself, losing more and more of his drive to actually escape.
Asmodeus’ dungeon had been the hardest and perhaps most confusing. What exactly had it been that they’d accomplished in there? No matter how many times Jack ran the events through his head, he felt as if he had failed. Shawn’s state of health was the only confirmation that he needed.
“Thousand-yard stare, Jackie-boy?” Rhys sneered.
On a normal day, a comment like that would’ve been enough to throw him into a frenzy, but after everything he’d just experienced, he was numb. He couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or not. If he was numb, then whatever happened next wouldn’t be so bad...right? The numbness had somehow saved his life just five minutes prior. He wondered what else it could do for him.
Jack turned to Shawn again. If his thig
h had been healed during the trip here, hopefully the worst of Shawn’s wounds would’ve healed as well. The holes on the side of Shawn’s neck were scabbed over, but there were patches of blood across his skin. Jack couldn’t tell if it came from the scratches on his face and arms or from an injury deep inside him. Jack frowned. Even if he could figure out the extent of Shawn’s damage, he had no idea how to fix it.
In the end, he did nothing, injured leg stretched out straight before he decided to lie down next to Shawn. He stared straight up at the fake sky above him, the beautiful shades of blue and the fluffy white clouds. Idly, he wondered if he was going to be able to see the real sky ever again before exhaustion crashed over him, and the peaceful blackness of sleep claimed him.
27.
WHEN SHAWN FINALLY opened his eyes, he was confused. Sunlight washed over his face, and he groaned at the unpleasant sensation before the pain in his entire body hit him. Then, he groaned again and sat up, glad that for as much as he hurt, he was still able to move. When his eyes adjusted to the light, he recognized the oasis of their resting point, and wondered how they had gotten there. The last thing he could remember was the car going out of control, Jack desperately trying to get them out, and then the fall over the bridge.
He couldn’t even remember hitting the ground and found that to be a relief. A delayed sense of panic gripped him as he thought of Jack, and he swiveled his head like an owl, trying to find him. His panic eased when he realized his friend was lying beside him. There was blood on his leg, but other than that he appeared to be uninjured. The face that was usually screwed up into a grimace or frown was smooth with peace.
“Jack!” Shawn said, poking him in the shoulder.
Jack snorted and rolled over, breath coming out in a peaceful rhythm. Shawn realized then that his friend was sleeping. When his eyes trailed over his leg, at the awkward angle and blood soaking through his pants, he felt even worse. Once again, he hadn’t been there for his friends when they needed him. He didn’t even know what had happened.
Where had Asmodeus been, and how had Jack beaten it? With shaking fingers, Shawn reached up to touch the double holes on the side of his neck. Most of the dungeon was a blur, not just the end, and Shawn slowly stood up. His muscles protested, but he was glad to find he had control over his body again.
Since Jack wasn’t able to tell him what happened, he looked to the fake sky with the hope that Rhys would provide something in the way of an answer. “Why are we back here so soon?”
“You will have to ask Jack,” Rhys said. “In the meantime, instead of worrying about the past, you should focus on your future. You are soon to come up on your sixth demon. That means you have just two left. The end is in sight. I am...surprised to say the least. It’s not often that my charges make it this far. You should be proud.”
Shawn twitched his face. Charges. Rhys spoke as if it was all just a game. Shawn supposed that, for him, it was. His shoulders sagged. While he was glad that they were so close to being done, he worried about Jack. If he stayed unconscious, they’d be in trouble.
“Who’s our next demon?” Shawn asked, hoping to stall long enough for Jack to come back to life.
No response at first, and Shawn frowned. Did Rhys know what he was trying to do?
“Lucifer,” Rhys said at last.
Shawn narrowed his eyes, unsure if he’d heard him right. “Lucifer...as in the fallen angel...as in Satan?”
Rhys laughed. “Religion classifies their demons differently than demonology does.”
In a way, Shawn supposed it made sense. As much as the rest of it all anyway. “What is Lucifer the demon of?”
“Pride. Based on this conversation, you might want to watch yourself while you’re in his dungeon. It just might be the one you fall to,” Rhys said. “Jack especially.”
Shawn closed his eyes, unable to ignore the irony. If Rhys were tested by his own devices, Shawn was sure that he would fall to Lucifer’s dungeon.
“Hypothetically, say we beat Lucifer. Who’s the demon after that? The very last one that we must face?”
Rhys laughed for such a long time that it sent chills down Shawn’s spine. It was different from the laughter before. Built from something other than humor. When the fit passed at last, he said, “It’s a demon very familiar to you.”
Shawn felt as if the ground beneath him were going to open up. There was only one demon familiar to them—Rhys. Did he really mean that in order to escape, they’d have to beat him?
That’s impossible, Shawn said and opened his mouth, ready to fire off a barrage of questions.
Before he could say a word, the oasis around them began to swirl. “Wait! We’re not ready!”
Motion sickness punched Shawn in the gut as they were transported to the next dungeon. Opening his eyes again, he realized they were sitting just beyond the gate of a mansion. On either side were statues of perching lions. Shawn stared up the stairs at the massive baronial building lurking just ahead. It was white and gray with two massive pillars reaching for the sky. The door was deep red and scattered along the side of the building was a series of casement windows.
Pride definitely lived here. It might as well have a sign.
After the awe settled into him, Shawn turned his attention back to Jack. The massive boy hadn’t changed positions during their journey.
“Jack!” he said, grasping his shoulder. “Jack, please wake up.”
Shawn was sure that Rhys had tried to make him forget about his questions by whisking them away before they were ready. But he remembered. He remembered them with such a force that he needed Jack to wake up so he could share his theory.
Jack didn’t respond at first so Shawn’s shaking got harder, more frantic. At last, he groaned, and rolled over, lifting his arm to block his face. His eyes opened more than a crack, and he coughed, other hand clutching at his leg. Shawn followed the gesture and winced, wondering just how hurt his friend was. Already his leg looked to be in better shape. Not completely healed, of course, but it seemed as if Rhys had done enough to ensure that at the very least, Jack would still be able to walk. Even if that walk was an awkward limp.
“Where are we?” Jack asked, slowly sitting up.
“We’re in the next dungeon,” Shawn replied, staring at the golden gate again.
Jack dropped his hand from his forehead as he studied it too. Under their gaze, a peacock wandered from the shadows, the blue and green a shocking contrast to the rest of the scene.
“Listen,” Shawn said, doing his best to kneel beside his friend. A rush of dizziness breezed through him, and he breathed in, trying to center himself. “I think I found out something about Rhys.”
Jack rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at his leg, turning it subtly from side to side as if he were testing the strength of his thigh. “What is it?”
“I think he’s the last demon we’re going to have to face.”
Jack looked up so fast that he winced at the pain in his neck. “Is that what he said?”
“Well, no...but I asked him what to expect for the last demon. He just said ‘a demon familiar to you.’”
Jack bowed his head, burying his face in his hands. “I honestly wouldn’t be surprised. Hasn’t it been us against him this entire time? It makes sense that the only way we can leave would be to get rid of the demon holding us here.”
Shawn had expected rage from his friend, had hoped for it because the entire situation was outrageous, and he wanted just a moment to let some of that rage out. “You’re right.”
Sighing, Jack massaged the muscle in his thigh again.
“What happened to us in the last dungeon?” Shawn asked, watching Jack’s every movement.
“It’s...honestly not worth remembering,” Jack said, bringing his knee to his chest.
The reaction reminded Shawn too much of Milo upon waking from the nightmare coma. For as much as they needed to work together, it seemed that each of them carried secrets they were unwilling to share.
Maybe that was for the best.
“Who are we up against this time?”
“Lucifer.”
Jack flexed his hands in and out of fists, staring down at the veins bulging from his arms before he muttered, “Fantastic.”
“He’s the demon of pride,” Shawn said, eyes moving to the peacock again. The bird stared at them, head bobbing in rhythm to its steps.
“I can see that,” Jack said at last standing to his feet.
“Let’s get inside and see what we’ve got ahead of us.”
The peacock watched as they started to walk. Shawn expected the bird to run at the first sign of movement, but it kept close, following them as they ascended the stairs. Shawn shivered under its watchful eye, somehow knowing that the animal wasn’t moving of its own accord. Could demons possess animals?
When they were at the top of the staircase, Shawn took a moment to survey the land around them. In the distance, there were topiary gardens and parking lots filled with vehicles so shiny and clean that they looked as if they had never been driven. This was what top wealth looked like. He compared it to his own life, to the tiny three-bedroom home that he shared with Penelope and his mothers and wondered what it must be like to live like this. To never want for anything. Jealously coursed through him, and he balled his hands, trying to force the feeling away.
Be careful or that could be where you fall, Rhys had warned.
Shawn shook his head, guilty for his thoughts though he knew that was ridiculous. What person didn’t want to live a life of luxury? What person didn’t dream of wealth and riches? Maybe that’s the problem, he realized. He’d never lived in splendor, but his life wasn’t bad by any means. His needs were met, and he was happy. He had a loving family and everything he asked for. He was wrong for wanting more than that. Wrong for wanting an extensive list of things that he didn’t need. The glamour and glitz looked amazing on the surface, but the more Shawn thought about it, the more wasteful he realized it really was.