“How do you know where I’m headed?”
“Levi.”
“That’s it? He didn’t say more?”
“Of course not.”
“It’s Levi,” we speak in unison.
“Lyvia,” he says, standing up. “Don’t think this makes me a good guy. I have plans too.” His voice fades with his disappearing form.
I wait a beat before continuing my journey.
19
The thicket at night appears unlike its daytime counterpart. It’s grown eerie in the absence of sunlight. I pull out my kist key. A kist key is a neural network device. Usually associated with Framework, they can also be unconnected, such as Dagan’s. It’s a multi-use device. It acts as a modernized technological Swiss army knife. You name the tool, it has it.
I clip it to my hoodie and an orb of light illuminates the path. The sound of crickets and cicadas fill my ears. The air is damp and chilled with nighttime. I walk past the path to the floss bridge. The trees thicken and vines hang among their branches. Their limbs twist into skinny, spooky fingers that claw at the starlit sky. I find the clearing on the left—the path that leads to the mountain and eventually, the Cush. The soil gets thicker and spongy. Branches and dead foliage clog the walkway.
Suddenly, my sandals swish around my feet. The silver blurs so fast—two beams of grey light swirling around each foot. They stop. They’ve transformed again. This time—hammered metal, slouchy boots. The laces are loose, and the sides flap open. They’re heavy duty, featuring bootlaces that gleam in the moon’s glow, long snakes tied in droopy bows.
“Where were you guys when Gustav was choking me to death?” I scold, looking down at them. No response. I forgive them for the momentary lapse in action, I have to admit the footwear has been incredibly valuable, thus far. I continue up the twisty, hilly path. I spot movement to my right and freeze. I swipe my hand up to silently turn off the kist key. I listen. Nothing. A pause. Then, more movement.
I see the hind legs of a giant white animal about ten feet away from me between trees and foliage. It resembles a wild horse—a huge, free Clydesdale. I quietly move closer to the white beast hoping not to scare it. It turns its body to the side and slowly lifts its head. I’m about five feet away. Upon first glance, the profile confirms a horse. However, as moonlight illuminates the animal, I see at the top of its head one massive, spiral ivory horn. A unicorn.
Wh—at? I say to myself drawing the word out, slowly and high-pitched quoting James Franco’s in This Is the End. Wow. They’re not supposed to be real. What’s happening in Crystal? I walk up to it, gently. In the moonlight, I see it’s a she.
“Hey girl,” I coo, edging closer. She huffs and puffs horse-like.
“Hey,” I say again, slowly reaching out to touch her. She lets me and I pet her coat, softly. She turns to me and nuzzles her giant nose in my neck. I nearly topple over as her large head snuggles against me. I reach to touch the horn. It’s massive and covered with short, yet thick, velvety fur. It’s as hard as bone.
A twig snaps behind me. The animal spooks and expertly gallops away around trees. Its vast form is as graceful as a swan. She’s a disappearing flash of shimmering light. I turn back to the path and see a shadowy figure just on the other side. I creep down and crouch behind a tree trunk. Two legs, this time human, walk the moonlit trail.
“Hey, Lyvia.” An all-too-familiar voice speaks evenly.
Levi. I shudder involuntarily. No wonder his merry band let Dorothy go on her way. Sparkling champagne bubbles pop on my tongue. A scent of crisp, woodsy cologne. Sunset over a lake. White sand between my toes. A strong breeze blows my hair around and guitar chords fill the air. Wait. The music is real. I roll my eyes and sigh into the darkness.
“Hey Levi,” I respond, standing up from my hiding spot.
“Long time no see,” he says, perched on a rock near the path—he holds his guitar, fiddles with its strings.
“Not long enough,” I reply, stepping into the tiny clearing.
Black shirt, long sleeves, pulled up to his elbows. Worn, fitted jeans. A tattoo peeks out from the scrunched material on his muscular right arm. His hair is mussed expertly. He smiles his half-smile, mischievously. I used to love that smile.
“Oh, Lyvs, you don’t mean that,” he purrs, using his special nickname for me. Something I also used to love.
“You don’t get to call me that anymore, Lucifer,” I spit out his true name.
He plays the opening chords of “You Don’t Know How It Feels” by Tom Petty. “Yeah, that’s my given name,” he stretches out the note. “But I don’t go by that anymore.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah, I needed something fresh.” He starts playing “Highway to Hell” by ACDC. This guy.
“Well, I don’t know, Levi,” I say. “I always preferred the classics.”
“That you did, Lyvs. That you did,” he drawls, strumming his guitar.
“You know what I want,” I say.
“Ahh yes, that old piece of junk.” His fingers move deftly up and down the instrument. A series of plucks create a melodious sound that fills my senses.
“Yeah, the hammer,” I reply, hands on hips.
“Well, Lyvs, you find yourself in quite a predicament here.” He rubs his head, musses his hair. This only adds to his cuteness factor, a move unconsciously developed over time that still makes me weak in the knees. Almost.
“Why is that, Leevs?” I ask, since apparently we’re using nicknames.
“Way I see it, Lyvs,” he starts playing “The Siamese Cat Song” from Lady and the Tramp. “As the flame burns Lumière’s candle wick, you need to beat Cogsworth’s tick-tick-tick.”
“Oh, you talk in riddles now? Ladies and gentlemen, we have in our midst, the one the only… Alice’s very own… Cheshire Cat,” I splay one hand outward, presenting the ‘star of the show.’
“Lyvs, if we’re gonna talk riddles, I prefer the Joker, or hey, maybe the actual Riddler. Not sure, but you know the cat is just too PG for me.”
“Okay, Levi. What are you getting at with your Beauty and the Beast puzzle?”
“I knew you’d guess it. You always did love that movie.”
“The original—better clarify that.”
“Of course, the original, Lyvs. I know you.”
“No, you really don’t. I need that hammer, Levi,” I say, impatience mounting by the second.
“You are welcome to come with me and get it. Problem is, I left it at my place. You haven’t seen the new digs yet, Lyvs. I think you’ll like ‘em.”
“Okay, so you’re saying I come with you right now to Hell, and you hand it over. And then I leave? Just like that? I’m not buying it, Leev. What do you get out of it?”
“Oh, Lyvia. What makes you presume I want anything? Besides you, of course. But, I’d never want you against your will. I’ve been around for quite some time, you know? And you, my Lyvia… Well, there’s just no one like you. Never has been. There’s something special He did when He created you. I don’t know what it is, but I do know I love it.” An internal cringe at his use of ‘my Lyvia.’
“Let’s just say, I go with you,” I begin. “What’s up with the riddle?”
“Ahh, yes, the riddle,” he drawls. Fingers again up and down the instrument—an ominous tune this time. “I think you have a new friend somewhere? Do I have that correct?” Dagan.
“What’s going on? Is he in danger?”
“Come on, Lyvia. You know all about that waterfall, don’t you?” Now he plays heavy, gloomy tones.
Heat rises to my face in a fury. “Yeah, I do, Levi. It’s dangerous enough by itself. What have you done?”
“He’ll be fine, Lyvs,” he says. “Granted you get there in time… Tick-tick-tick…”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Levi. So I go with you, or sprint to the waterfall and hope I make it in time?”
“Hammer or Dagan… Hammer or Dagan,” he says, motioning his hands like an antique balance scale.
I know this guy. Well, as much as anyone can know the Devil. What I can tell you is this: there’s not a snowball’s chance the guy is going to let me leave Hell with that hammer. I need help and more weaponry—if it exists. I need a plan before I enter his play place. When I do, it will be on my terms. Plus, I like Dagan. He’s a good guy, and apparently, a friend of Shane’s. Moreover, he’s looking for Shane. Which means, we team back up. If I can get to him in time.
“You know something I really love about you, Lyvs? I can’t get into your mind. Not even a little bit. I have to admit—I’ve tried, but nope. Something about you. Your mind is a locked abyss… One that even I’m not privy to.”
“Well, thank God for that,” I reply.
“Well, you can thank Him all you want,” he says, looking upward. “But I’m not in much of a mood to thank the guy that banished me to Earth with your kind. You are the only one, Lyvs. The only human in”—finger quotes—“‘His image’ who mystifies me. I still love you, baby.”
“I didn’t know the Devil was capable of love,” I respond.
“Hey,” he plays the chords to “Stairway to Heaven” by Led Zeppelin. “I used to be an angel, you know. Just like Mikey, Gabe, and the rest of the gang. I was high up too.”
“Or so I’ve read,” I reply. “How much time do I have?”
He plays the Jaws theme. Duhhhh-na, Duhhh-na. Duhh-na. Duh-na. Duh-na. “Just enough… If you hurry…” His strumming blends into the opening of the Rocky theme song, “Eye of the Tiger,” before he vanishes into thin air.
Wow. Never seen him do that before. I don’t even want to know the extent of his power beyond this new disappearing act. I assume he doesn’t need a vortex to get to Hell.
I stick that information in my back pocket.
For now.
20
I pull out my Slab and pop it open. Persephone emerges.
“Wow. That was intense,” she says, walking around the site. She’s looking at the rock he was sitting on. She’s dressed in head-to-foot black—leggings and an oversized sweatshirt, finishing off the look with black converse tennis shoes. She likes to dress for the occasion at times.
“I’ll say. Okay. Seph, we don’t have time to analyze that. How far is Dagan? How long will it take?”
She pulls out the book she has scanned. “You’ve got about twenty miles left to the statue.”
“Can you connect to Crystal’s grid? See what we can see?” Crystal’s grid is similar to the Framework but runs on solar energy. Framework Slabs generally can’t connect, and I’m unaware if Persephone can override the spiritual barriers in the shire’s district.
“Lemme see,” she says, thoughtfully perched on Levi’s rock. “I have a much better connection at Regina’s, but I’m picking up a gridiron that will give me a cloudy image.”
“Okay.” She pulls up a 3D map just as she did in the Fuse. This one is grainy, reminiscent of a picture taken without enough light.
“Show me the trail.” She isolates the path. Twenty miles of twisty darkness.
“Show me the statue.” She pulls up an aerial shot of the waterfall.
“Zoom in.” Near the top of the falls, I see a blurry light grey fixture.
“Zoom in again.” The statue grows in size. I can somewhat make out the giant structure. It’s still a very gritty image.
“I don’t see him.”
“Me neither,” Persephone replies, now standing next to me.
“Are we too late? That asshole. Didn’t even give me enough time to try,” I say, pacing the small clearing.
“Wait, I see him,” Persephone says excitedly.
“Where?” I ask, hustling back to her.
“See,” she points. “Right there.”
In the sandy image, I spot movement near the bottom of the sculpture. His form looks small. He is sitting at the foot of the piece. Shivering. I can’t make out any features beyond that.
“First of all, how did he get up there? Second of all, what’s the rush? As long as he stays there, we can get to him in time.”
“The waterfall has high-tide just like the ocean. When your mom and dad went up, the tide shifted unexpectedly.”
“So, you’re telling me the tide is shifting again.”
“Yes,” she replies.
“How much time?”
“Three hours.”
“I can’t hike twenty miles in three hours. What a sick joke, Levi,” I say, perching on a rock. Not his.
“What are we gonna do?” Persephone asks, shutting down her map.
“Well, I was hoping the ‘Slab that knows all’ might have a suggestion…”
“I got nothing,” she says with a shrug. “But we should at least get moving.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know, Seph,” I say, standing. “I just don’t see how we can do it, but we have to try.”
I close the Slab notebook and begin the trek. My pace is pretty fast. The flat terrain allows for a run but nowhere near the pace of our ticking Cogsworth. I’m sweating and out of breath. I have to break for water. I pull out the Slab.
“How far have we gone?”
“Five miles,” Persephone answers, crossed-legged on the forest floor.
“What? That felt like ten,” I reply, taking a huge gulp of water. “Time?”
“You have two and a half hours left.”
“We’re never gonna make it,” I say, wiping my brow and putting the water away. “Too bad these shoes don’t turn into instruments for flight.” I inspect the boots. The matte metal sheens indifferently in the night glow.
“How am I gonna do this? If I lose Dagan too… I just met the guy. And Shane liked him. Let’s go. We have to try.” I put my Slab away and get moving again. The path begins to narrow, and the trek becomes steeper, my pace—slower.
“How far, Seph?” I ask, stopping again for water.
“Ten miles to go. One hour left,” her voice says from my bag.
“Damn it,” I say, putting the water back. “I shoulda just went to Hell. Who knows? Might be better than this. I really don’t want Dagan to die—not because I couldn’t get there in time. Again.” I hang my head in defeat, but I stand anyway.
A scuffling in the brush. A soft neigh. A turn to see my new friend eating some foliage.
Maybe…
I walk gently over to her. She lets me pet her and nuzzles my ear, nearly pushing me to the ground again. I touch her horn. It’s so cool.
“You think you could take me up to the mountain, girl?” I ask softly.
Another soft neigh and she lowers her massive head.
Okay. I haven’t ridden a horse since I was sixteen. That was a horse with a saddle. This is a gigantic ‘horse of different color.’ The Wizard of Oz quote pops in my head. I think of Dagan and his boyish smile. His laugh. The fact that he and Shane are best friends.
“Here goes nothing.”
I try to swing my leg over the unicorn’s vast midsection. ‘Try’ being the operative word here. I slip off and fall heavily to the ground. Up in seconds, I give it another try. I swing my leg a little higher and harder but slip off, yet again.
“Okay, girl, I’m gonna get up there,” I say, brushing my hands together and revving up.
Yes. I’m revving up. A running start.
“Bear with me!” This time I rush up to her and take a huge hop. My leg makes it over her hindquarters but starts to slip.
“No, come on,” I breathe, sliding down her side.
She lowers her front, and I gain traction. I use her mane to steady myself. She lifts her head back in an ‘all buckled up?’ gesture. I wish she was equipped with seatbelts.
“Okay, let’s go,” I say, bracing myself for the ride. Can unicorns fly? I don’t see wings on this one, but who knows? I have shoes that turn into Holy Relics. I’m beginning to think anything is possible.
She gallops gracefully and majestically along the path’s hard turns. Then she takes a detour into the woods.
“Seph, do you kn
ow what’s going on?” I ask, gripping the mane for dear life.
“She’s just taking a shortcut,” Seph’s muffled voice answers.
“Um, like a treacherous one?”
“Well, let’s just say the ride’s going to get bumpier.”
“Great,” I reply through shattering teeth.
Sure enough, Persephone is accurate. The woodsy hills get steeper and steeper. The trees and brush get thicker. My ride darts around obstacles as a minnow shifts around rocks in a stream.
The forest thins and a giant rock wall looms ahead. It’s larger than Mount Rushmore and darkened with night. We emerge onto a path leading up the mountain. This one is rockier. I have my kist key’s light on, although the unicorn seems to glow. She almost floats above the uneven terrain. The suspicion of concealed wings interrupts my thoughts.
The trail continues to climb steeper by the minute. The sound of rushing water builds. It overwhelms my senses. Cold water. Jagged rocks below the current. Rapid falls and teetering rafts. Looming clay covered cliffs. The scent of sunscreen. Large white floppy sunhat. Gold aviator sunglasses.
In the present, we finally emerge onto a flat landing. The waterfall pours ahead. It’s very wide and getting wider by the second.
All I can make out is a tiny muscular arm dangling over the side of the cliff. The precipice is jagged and goes straight upward. He’s incredibly high. I can see the colossal statue stretch straight to the sky behind him. It’s magnificent, seems to glow with light other than that supplied from the moon. Looking at the path from which we emerged, the unicorn has taken a shortcut over terrain that is humanly impossible to navigate.
The water continues to rush. I realize, yet again, I’m gravely unprepared. Not sure how I expected this to go, but clothing and makeup won’t help, again.
“Use the nails,” Persephone beckons from the bag.
I take off the boots. I’ll try anything.
“Nails—” I yell and shake them. Does nothing.
“Please, Shane, I don’t want to lose your friend. He knows you. I just met him. I want to know him. And, really, I could use his help to get you back,” I whisper skyward.
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