Web of Lies (The Hundred Halls Book 2)

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Web of Lies (The Hundred Halls Book 2) Page 13

by Thomas K. Carpenter


  "I'm not an aficionado of demonology, but it's possible. Living in a faez-thick realm creates some pretty weird things," said Aurie.

  "I still think it's odd," said Pi.

  The modest shotgun-style brick three story looked normal enough from the outside. Aurie was expecting the door to be ripped off and fissures venting black smoke to cover the sidewalk outside.

  "He must go out a different way. The snow in front of that door has piled up, and it hasn't snowed in days," said Aurie.

  "A big demon has ornamental wings," said Pi.

  "He was human-sized," said Aurie. "Let's go around back and check the other door."

  They had to go up the street to find access to the alley behind the row. Each house led to a small backyard. Despite the vine-choked fences and old junk abandoned between the houses, the neighborhood seemed rather well preserved.

  "It's amazing what fear will do to you," said Aurie, slightly disgusted. "This whole district is filled with great houses that were left by people who couldn't stand living next to people a little different than themselves."

  Pi coughed. "Faez-eating thralls?"

  "I did some research using the city records. The recent exodus happened about three years ago, but many other non-humans have lived here for longer," said Aurie. "The demon must be the alpha predator, or something like that."

  The backyard was as pristine as the front, except for tiny cat prints that went in and out of the open gate. Aurie slipped through and crept towards the back of the house. A storm door went into the basement.

  Aurie pulled out a worn key and whispered to it, explaining how it would fit like two lovers embracing, which only made her think about Zayn. Now wasn't the time to entertain such thoughts, she reminded herself, and started the spell over. The trick to mendancy was to tell the lie so convincingly that the object was temporarily transformed by the magic. Not a lot was known about how the magic worked. Some magical researchers thought the objects had memory and could revert to a previous state, but Aurie knew that was bullshit, since this key had never been used in this lock. It was something else, something she thought had to do with perception, or that the universe was really a hologram. Real science-y stuff.

  Sometimes it bothered her that she was so good at mendancy, at liar magic. Knowing it felt like a crutch, like she was taking a shortcut, or that she was flawed and that when the wrong thing happened, she'd cleave into two.

  When she was in a good mood, the mendancy wasn't really lying magic, but believing the best about something, even when it was a little broken, much like people. She'd done that throughout her whole teenage years after her parents had died, convincing herself that she could keep going, even when it felt pointless. Mostly for Pi. When she was depressed, the magic was a mirage that would collapse at the wrong turn, and she felt that she never deserved happiness or any of the things that she'd ever accomplished, that magic like that was reserved for other people, privileged people. Not her.

  But today she had a positive outlook. She'd had lunch with Zayn—stop those thoughts, Aurie—at a falafel restaurant in the fifth ward. They'd talked about nothing, really, but that had been the best part.

  So when Aurie told the key that it would fit perfectly, she knew that it'd worked even before she put the key into the lock. The nubless shaft of metal slipped into the hole, and the lock clicked satisfyingly. Aurie kissed the blank and stuck it into her pocket, receiving an eye roll from her sister for the display.

  The steps went into the darkness. She wished for the spell that Zayn had cast on her eyes, but without that, let a conjured wisp drift downward, illuminating the way while she followed, Pi right behind.

  The bones of the house were old, stacked stone with sloppy mortar jammed between. While the façade of the building had been renovated, the cellar had been hastily repaired, evidenced by the musty smell and water puddles in the corners.

  The demon's presence hadn't scared away the arachnids, as webs clung to the beams above their heads.

  Crawling on her knees, Aurie created a circle with a bag of salt, leaving one side open to capture the demon. Neither of them were prepared to lure the infernal creature into the center themselves, so they'd created a tiny simulacrum to provide as bait.

  Pi pulled the plastic doll out of a bag: its normally blonde hair had been colored black with a magic marker and chopped short to match Pi's, and runes had been etched into the pink plastic skin. The simulacrum worked like a voodoo doll in reverse. It was a representation of Pythia, not physically, but in spirit. Once they'd gotten the demon's attention, it would draw the creature into the circle like a bloodhound after a scent. That was the theory anyway. They figured they could bug out if something went wrong, retreating to the snowy daylight.

  Aurie hated that her sister was the one acting as bait—she'd planned on doing that herself, as it was her clinic that they were trying to rescue—but when Pi had that determined look in her eye, she'd learned to let her sister take the lead. If something went wrong, then she could be the one to "rescue" her sister, which would only annoy her later.

  The doll had been placed at the center of the circle, bent into a stiff-legged seated position as if it were waiting for a black metal tea party. They each found a spot to hide along the wall behind dusty old shelves. A single forgotten can of Spam was Aurie's lone companion on her side of the cellar.

  From her spot, Pi funneled faez into the doll. It worked like a power conduit, the trinkets that mages used if they wanted to maintain their power in other realms. Each mage had a specific access to faez, but it worked best in their own realm. If you went into another, the mage's power was weakened.

  In this case, the simulacrum collected and broadcasted Pi's location. Demons had notoriously finicky senses of smell, so it should detect the doll quickly.

  After waiting for about ten minutes, Aurie moved towards the basement stairs. If the demon hadn't been alerted to Pi's faez, it probably wasn't in the house.

  Aurie made it to the fifth step from the top before something heavy landed on the floor above her head. A host of wood groaning in response followed, eliciting visions of the bat-winged demon dropping down from the ceiling, where it'd been previously hanging.

  "Shit," she mouthed, turning to creep back down, every step screaming as her weight shifted.

  Heavy ponderous steps moved towards the basement door while Aurie rushed to get back to her hiding space. Pi waved frantically for Aurie to hurry up, but she didn't want to go too fast or the demon would hear.

  She moved off the last step and slipped into the cubby as the door opened, almost forgetting about the light wisp, sending it away a moment too late.

  Aurie held as still as she could manage behind the dusty shelf. The demon had to have seen the light. She listened for footsteps on the steps, but the quiet was unbearable. The only thing she could hear was her own breathing, which sounded like she'd run a marathon.

  A long, painfully slow squeak announced the creature had moved onto the first step, followed by grumbling exhales right at the edge of hearing, like a bear moving through underbrush. Aurie cursed herself for not remembering that they wouldn't be able to see in the dark once the demon entered the cellar.

  It was too late now. She'd have to wait for the creature to enter the circle before using light, and hope to close the salt before the demon escaped. The timing would be tricky, but with her sister's help, she knew it could be done.

  She was a little confused about the scraping sound she heard following each step, until she remembered the demon's wings, which probably didn't fit in the compact stairwell.

  Before the demon reached the bottom, Aurie realized she could see slightly. It appeared the demon was luminous, because the faint outlines that she could see had reddish shadows opposite the stairs.

  It stopped at the bottom. Aurie heard its wings brush against the ceiling. It made no move toward the doll, and since she was around the corner, she couldn't tell what it was doing.

  The del
ay worried Aurie. She had the suspicion that it sensed the deception and was investigating its surroundings before moving. They'd kept the salt circle as thin as possible so the demon wouldn't notice, and since it wasn't closed, it would not be seen as a magical barrier.

  The only thing the demon should notice was the overwhelming amounts of faez emanating from the doll and the aura of ozone.

  The demon moved around the broken salt circle as if it sensed its presence, while Aurie tried to convince herself not to run. It walked around the arc and then back around like a dog testing an invisible fence. Aurie wished she could communicate with her sister. Clearly it knew they were there. If they hit it with heavy magic at the same time, maybe they could get away before it could retaliate, but without coordinating the attack, she didn't want to chance it.

  The demon looked less formal than it had the last time, wearing nothing but a pair of dark jeans, the muscles on its bulky back flexing as the wings shifted, flickering like the tail of a horse shooing flies.

  To her surprise, the demon stepped into the circle and reached down to pick up the runed doll. Aurie hadn't been expecting that, so she wasn't in position to close the salt circle.

  The demon had its back to her, examining the doll, sniffing it like a beast. Aurie crept forward, one careful step at a time, her muscles quivering with the effort of staying silent. One foot scuff and it would rip her throat out.

  When she pulled the bag of salt out of her pocket, a handful spilled onto the ground. In the quiet of the cellar, where even a heartbeat was a drum, the falling grains sounded like thunder. The demon snapped its head around as Aurie fell to her knees, dumping the salt into the opening and pouring faez into the circle, springing the trap.

  From the darkness behind the demon, Pi's voice rose as she began the banishment spell, the perfect enunciation bringing hope to Aurie. Her excitement at their success lasted until the demon faced her and, with the toe of its boot, kicked away the salt, breaking the circle.

  That was not good.

  She didn't have time to analyze how they'd failed. She shot a burst of sparks from her hands, not to injure, but distract, and sprinted towards the steps. Cold, pitiless laughter followed.

  Aurie burst onto the main floor, orienting herself towards the front door. The reddish-skinned, bare-chested demon marched after her. Its body shimmered as if it were gathering power or something. She didn't bother with the locks on the front door—there wasn't enough time. Instead she went up the stairs to the second floor.

  Something black and spectral, like a tendril of darkness, whipped past her head. Its glowering animosity was like a brand on her back, driving her forward.

  She paused at the second floor; something was different about it. There were no rooms, but one large area. She caught a whiff of familiarity and moved to peek around the corner when the demon raged, and more tendrils came slithering up the staircase. Aurie ran to the third floor, found a room, threw herself in, and locked the door.

  Aurie wasn't prepared to make her last stand against a powerful demon. Even with Pi at her side, such a battle would be ill-advised.

  She only had one option, and she cheered when the window opened easily, letting in the freezing air. Aurie climbed out, whispering to her hands that they were as sticky as a spider's web.

  Grabbing on wasn't the issue as she shivered in the cruel wind. At that height, the wind through the neighborhood, unhindered by taller buildings. Within the first few holds, her hands were stiffening.

  "Hurry, Aurie!" yelled her sister from the backyard.

  Aurie looked up in time to see the demon lean out the window. Whatever mischief it had planned for her was cut short when Pi sent a battering blast that exploded the window in its ferocity. This gave Aurie an opportunity to shimmy further down the wall, risking a jump into the snow when she was a story up.

  The snow puffed around her as she landed, sending the white stuff into her eyes and mouth. She ran to Pi, and together they escaped through the alleyway, constantly glancing back for pursuit.

  When they reached the main square with the dragon fountain, they paused.

  "That didn't go so well," said Pi, knocking the hair out of her face.

  "Better than having my heart ripped out through my neck," said Aurie. "For a failed demon banishing, that wasn't terrible."

  "How the hell did it break our circle? If we can hold a demon lord, we can certainly hold this fella. He looked more like a model trying out for some infernal cosplay show than a real demon," said Pi, clearly exasperated.

  Aurie nodded along. Something about the demon bothered her as well. "I'm not sure it was a demon. As I ran through the house, I was surprised by how well it was kept."

  "Is Grat a hipster demon?" asked Pi, one eyebrow raised. Despite the quip, she didn't sound as irreverent as she normally did.

  "Maybe it's not a demon at all, since the circle didn't work," said Aurie.

  Pi frowned deeply. Something was bothering her, but Aurie let it go and knocked the snow from her jacket. The tumble had stuffed her pockets with the cold stuff. "Back to Arcanium. For now. I think we have some more research before we try him again. Though I don't want to wait too long. Poor Nezumi and his family are stuck in the Undercity until we can cleanse the district."

  "Nezumi," said Pi with a cold distance. "Yeah, I think there's a problem."

  "What? Did you see him or something?" she asked, looking around.

  "When you escaped up the stairs, I followed at first, in case we had to do battle. I didn't want you to fight alone. Once I heard the door slam, I figured what you were going to do and went out the front, but before I left, I saw something."

  "Spit it out, Pi."

  "I saw the doll. The wub-wub. Annabelle's crochet troll doll," said Pi. "You know, the one Nezumi was looking for last time."

  Aurie put a hand to her mouth. "That's not good. That is not good."

  A personal item like that, especially a well-loved one, could be used in various unsavory ways. The least of which would be a way to find Nezumi and his family. The worst, well, Aurie didn't even want to think about that.

  "We can't leave it," said Aurie.

  "We don't have to," said Pi, pulling the dirty green crochet troll doll from her jacket. A leg had been cut off and it was covered in candle residue. "But it's too late. He's already been using it. Looks like he might have been scrying them. Probably heard Nezumi give us the house directions last time and is going to be pissed now."

  "We made it worse," said Aurie, sinking her face into her hands. "We have to go back. Kill that thing right now."

  Pi put her hand on Aurie's arm as she moved back towards the house. "No way. We'd get slaughtered. He wasn't fooled by our simulacrum, which means he knew what we were. And we don't know what he is."

  "We can't leave Nezumi to him," she said.

  "We don't need to. We can get a message to him with this," said Pi, shaking the doll. "Then we can get them somewhere safe."

  Aurie thought about it for a while. They could find a place for them to stay, put protections on it. It wasn't a great option, but it was better than leaving them vulnerable or charging in and dying today, which still wouldn't help Nezumi and his family.

  "I hate to tell them they're still at risk," said Aurie. "We've put them through so much already."

  "Leave that to me," said Pi.

  "I don't want to know," said Aurie.

  Pi grinned. "Nope, you don't. You work on figuring out what that thing is while I make sure Nezumi and his family have a good place to stay until we've gotten rid of the demon."

  "Or whatever it is," said Aurie, moving in the direction of the train station. "You know what we need now, right?"

  Pi looked over inquisitively, then realized what Aurie was about to say. "No. No you don't!"

  Aurie began, "When the going gets tough—"

  Pi stuck her fingers in her ears and started making random noises.

  "—the tough study more."

  As muc
h as her sister hated the saying, Aurie knew it was true. Good magic required preparation and study. They hadn't beaten Grat because they hadn't understood what it was. Maybe it hadn't known they, in particular, had been coming, but clearly it'd prepared enough so that it wasn't affected by the salt circle. Or it was something similar to but not a demon.

  Pi stopped making noises and tentatively pulled a finger out. "Are you done yet?"

  "Never," said Aurie, winking, leaving Pi to groan.

  Chapter Seventeen

  A few years ago, the Wild Sorcery was Pi's favorite place to get away when she was fighting with her sister. She'd seen the mages that frequented the bar, with their trinkets and spell tattoos, sipping frothy cocktails that looked like miniature cauldrons, and thought that was what she wanted when she joined the Hundred Halls.

  The place hadn't changed much since she'd moved on from the idea. She sat at a corner booth with a view of the front door. The setup was a little on the nose, but it was still good practice.

  Cheap mood lights cast a bluish glow across the tables, turning every face into a mask. Mages with little skill made glowing letters float in the air. Pi didn't know if they had patrons or were guaranteeing they would eventually succumb to faez madness.

  Pi saw him right away when he entered. The crappy lighting revealed something about him that she hadn't realized before.

  "Slyvan," she said, motioning toward the opposite side of the booth.

  The maetrie's nose didn't so much wrinkle in disgust as sneer at everything around him. When he spoke, it was as if he were about to cough up a hairball.

  "If this is what you think passes for a clandestine meeting, then I mistook you for a smart girl," he said, turning to leave.

  "Wait," she growled, hoping to convince him to stop through sheer intensity. "Sit. Please. Give me a minute to explain."

  His impeccable suit was practically a second skin on his lithe body. His revulsion to his surroundings made it shift constantly as if he expected to contract a disease.

  Slyvan pulled a handkerchief out of an inner pocket and wiped the leather booth covering. When he was finished, he wadded the cloth up and tossed it into the corner.

 

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