Demon Games [4] (17 page)

There was a terrible silence, the creatures on all sides looking in Molok’s direction.

‘We have a new champion,’ the demon lord said in a loud voice. ‘The lycanthrope Trey Laporte will be my
primus palus.
’ The nether-creature looked into the faces of the assembled horde before adding in a lower voice, ‘And if any one of you here lays so much as a single claw on him before the Games, you will
all
end up in those cages that make up the walls of my citadel.’ He gestured to one of the guards, ‘Take him to the barracks. He can have Kronok’s old cell.’

With a nod at the fighters, Molok turned and left the gladiator school.

Philippa sat at the edge of the plinth, as close to the invisible barrier as she could get without touching it. Alexa did the same, and the two girls were able to talk without having to raise their voices.

They’d been talking about everything that had happened to them since they’d first met, filling in the gaps in the other’s knowledge as to how they had both ended up in this place. Philippa stared into space as her friend told her how Lucien and the Ashnon had finally managed to kill the Necrotroph that had murdered her father and left her irrevocably damaged. When the conversation inevitably got around to Trey, Alexa remarked on how she thought he’d changed since she’d seen him last.

‘I can’t quite put my finger on it, but he seems . . . colder. The last time I saw him was the morning he left for Canada. He was going out there to find his uncle, and it seemed that everyone apart from Trey knew that it wasn’t going to be an easy trip for him. My father had warned me about Frank Laporte, and the damage he might do to his nephew.’ She smiled anxiously. ‘But Trey was excited about the trip – excited and nervous. He’d discovered that he still had a living relative who, as a lyco like him, might be able to help him to come to terms with what he was all about. I don’t know what happened to him out there, but whatever it was, it seems to have hardened something inside him.’

Alexa shook her head sadly and looked up to find the other girl staring back at her with a look of incredulity.

‘You seem to forget that all of this,’ Philippa said, gesturing with her hand at her surroundings, ‘was complete fantasy to Trey and to me until very recently. If you’d told me that vampires really existed, I’d have laughed in your face.’ She snorted and shot her friend an angry look. ‘We weren’t brought up with magic and demonic possessions and nether-creatures. Trey’s still probably every bit as freaked out by this as I am. He’s bound to have changed. Did you
really
think he wouldn’t?’

‘No, of course not,’ Alexa said in a small voice. ‘I just meant . . .’ She shook her head. ‘I’m sorry.’

Philippa’s features softened and she smiled. ‘You like him, don’t you?’

Alexa looked up. ‘Trey? Yes, of course I like him. We’re good friends.’

‘But you like him as more than just a friend, don’t you?’

Alexa shrugged.

‘And it’s pretty clear that he likes you as more than just a friend too. Look at the way he attacked this force field, or whatever it is around us, to try to get to you . . . the way he just came out here after you, on his own.’ She paused before adding, ‘The way that he’s willing to risk his life to save you.’

Alexa sighed. ‘I don’t think that Trey and I could ever be together in
that
way. I don’t think we would ever be anything but a danger to each other.’

‘Is that why you won’t tell him how you feel about him?’ The other girl paused for Alexa to respond, but carried on when it was clear that she would not. ‘Because it seems to me that you both being who and what you are, you’re going to face danger every single day of your lives. Maybe it would be better to do that together rather than separately.’

‘I don’t know.’

‘What if he’s killed in these Games?’ Philippa watched Alexa stiffen at the suggestion, her face taking on a stricken expression. ‘If that happened, could you ever be happy again, knowing that you hadn’t told him howyou felt?’

The door of the prison opened, and a Maug guard walked in carrying two bowls of something.

‘Food,’ it shouted as it stepped up to their cells and placed the bowls into a drawer which slid into a space inside the platform. Once the drawer was fully engaged, the prisoners were able to access the food via a small hatch in the floor.

The two girls were standing now. They looked at each other.

The guard returned with bowls of water, which were also placed in the metal drawer. It slid the food and drink into the cavity before turning to leave.

‘Wait!’ Alexa called out. ‘Where have they taken Trey?’ She saw the demon frown at the use of the name. ‘The lycanthrope boy – where is he?’

The guard grinned. ‘He’s alive. And is now a member of the gladiator school. Apparently, he won the right to become Molok’s champion by defeating Kronok. There’s a lot of talk about the werewolf. People are saying that Molok is mad to put his reputation at stake by pitching an unknown fighter against Abaddon the Destroyer.’ The guard chuckled. ‘Or maybe Molok is already resigned to losing the big fight again, and is simply sending your troublesome friend to his death.’ The Maug shrugged its massive shoulders and walked out, slamming the door behind it.

Alexa looked round towards Philippa, trying hard not to give in to the tears that threatened. Her friend shook her head.

‘It seems to me that Molok went to an awful lot of trouble to bring Trey here. I don’t for one second believe he’d have done all that if he didn’t think Trey could win for him. Ignore that fool.’

Alexa nodded, but the deep frown lines on her forehead suggested that she thought otherwise.

‘What is it?’ Philippa asked.

‘Maybe that’s it.’

‘What?’

‘Maybe Trey isn’t supposed to win. Maybe Molok is setting him up. Using him as a means to appease Caliban. To buy the vampire’s mercy.’

The two girls stared at each other.

Philippa was the one to finally break the silence. ‘I meant what I said, Alexa. Don’t make the same mistake that I did with my father. If you get a chance to talk to Trey again, you should tell him how you feel about him.’

Alexa nodded her head. She turned her back on the other girl and went to sit on the chaise longue in the centre of her cell, lost in thought.

‘Your food.’

Trey sat up on the simple straw pallet and looked towards the source of the voice. The room he had been given was identical to the other seven in the building and except for the fact that the lock was on the inside, it looked for all the world like a prison cell: three windowless stone walls, and a fourth made up of a metal lattice that looked out on to the central area, which was currently occupied by the remaining four elite fighters who had gathered around a wooden table to eat. A measure of privacy was afforded by a simple curtain that could be drawn over the grille, but Trey had chosen not to do so, preferring to see anyone – or anything – that might approach his cell. Kronok’s body had been dragged off to be disposed of somewhere – and Trey’s fellow inhabitants seemed less than happy to have him there. At first Trey had thought he would be attacked the second he was brought in here and left alone with them, but despite the hate-filled looks and the odd growl or hiss, the other demons steered well clear of the teenager, and Trey quickly realized that Molok’s threat to have them all killed if anything should happen to him was enough to keep him safe – for now, at least.

The thing that stood at the opening to his cell was a small, wrinkled creature with blue skin. His ancient-looking face was topped by a thick, grimy bandage which was loose and sat askew. There were no ears to speak of, just small indentations at the side of the head – as if someone had pushed a thumb into the flesh when it was soft and pliable. One eye studied the boy with an amused expression. Nothing more than an ugly hole and a mass of scar tissue was left in the place where the other should have been. The little demon, aware that Trey was staring at the wound, reached up and tugged the grubby bandage down at an angle to cover it up, lending the nether-creature an almost conical, piratical appearance.

‘May Shentob come in?’

Trey shrugged and the creature shuffled in, carrying a plate of something hot in one hand and a tankard in the other. He placed these on the floor next to Trey and straightened up again, nodding in the direction of the food. ‘You should eat,’ he said. ‘You’ll need your strength in the days ahead.’

Trey looked over at the plate of food. It was some kind of stew. It didn’t smell too bad, but he eyed it suspiciously, ignoring the loud grumbling sounds that came from his stomach.

‘It’s OK,’ his visitor said with a nod. ‘Old Shentob knew that you would not want to eat what the others are eating.’ The demon gestured over its shoulder towards the nether-creatures sitting round the table. ‘So he made you something else. Go on, it’s good.’

Trey picked up the plate and smelt the food. ‘What kind of meat is this?’

‘Menchon.’

‘Menchon? What’s that?’

The demon looked off into the distance, a puzzled expression on his face as he tried to figure out how to describe the animal. ‘In the human realm the closest thing would be . . . rabbit.’

Trey had eaten rabbit before. His grandmother had made stews from the meat, and after his initial refusals to try them, he’d finally given in and discovered that they were in fact very good. He dipped his finger into the gravy and licked it, raising a surprised eyebrow at how tasty it was. He took up the spoon and helped himself to a big mouthful.

He looked up again at his visitor. The demon was still frowning, his lips working silently as if puzzling something out. Moments later, he clicked his fingers and pointed at Trey, who was ravenously shovelling the food into his mouth. ‘Sorry, not rabbit,’ the demon said. ‘Rat.’

Trey spat the food back on to the plate and drank greedily from the tankard.

‘You don’t like it?’

‘I’ve suddenly lost my appetite,’ Trey said, grimacing down at the plate.

‘Shentob.’ The demon held out a gnarled old hand, which Trey shook.

‘Trey Lapo—’

‘I know who you are. Yes. Old Shentob knows who you are. And he saw you. Saw you fight that oaf Kronok.’ The demon giggled and danced about on the spot like some demented hobgoblin. ‘They don’t know that Shentob has a place where he can see out on to the square. They think he is locked up in here with no way to see.’ The demon touched the side of his nose with one finger and winked conspiratorially at Trey. ‘But he can.’

‘That’s nice,’ Trey said, wondering if the creature was mad in a dangerous way or just demented.

‘You should have killed Kronok,’ Shentob said, his face suddenly becoming serious. ‘Your father would have.’

Trey stared at the demon. ‘What did you say?’

‘You should have—’

‘Not that. You said something about my father.’

‘Yes.’

‘What are you talking about?’ Trey was on his feet now, looming over the demon menacingly.

Shentob cowered, covering his head as if expecting a blow and whimpering in a small voice. Trey glanced at the nether-creatures sitting round the table and wondered how this unfortunate creature had been treated to make him so fearful.

‘It’s OK, Shentob. Please stand up,’ Trey said, reaching out and gently taking the demon by the elbow, ‘I’m not going to hurt you.’

‘Thank you, Trey Laporte.’ The demon smiled back at the boy, displaying a mouth of missing teeth and rotting gums and a dark blue tongue.

‘Now tell me what you meant when you said that—’

There was a shout from the room outside, one of the fighters banging on the table and roaring out incoherently for something or another.

Shentob called out that he was on his way. He hurried to the door, pausing in the opening and looking back at Trey. His eyes flicked towards the plate on the floor before settling on the teenager again.

‘Shentob will come back. And he will bring something good to eat. Something that Trey Laporte likes. And he will bring him something else – something he will need in the Games.’ He hopped about on the spot, clapping his hands again. ‘Something that Shentob has kept hidden.’

The waiting nether-creatures called out again, issuing threats in the servant demon’s direction.

‘And Shentob will tell you all that he knows. Teach Trey Laporte about the Demon Games. Tell you things that you need to know.’ He turned on his heel and left, leaving Trey’s head awash with questions and worries.

When Shentob did return, the barracks were full of the moans and snores of its other inhabitants.

Dinner had ended in more violence. The nether-creatures had proceeded to get exceedingly drunk after their meal, shouting out and arguing with each other in loud voices. Trey sat and watched from his cell as Shentob ran between them, topping up their tankards with whatever foul concoction they were drinking, receiving nothing but kicks and punches and worse by way of thanks. At one point late in the evening, one of the creatures had stood up, shouting out something about Trey and Kronok, and started off across the room in the direction of Trey’s cell. Trey was up on his feet in an instant, anticipating some drunken attack. But Shentob had run to get in the drunkard’s way and it was the poor one-eyed demon that had received a terrible beating before the bully’s companions had dragged him off to bed. That had been a short while ago, but judging from the sound of the deep, rumbling snores that filled the building now, the soporific effect of the drink had worked its magic on all concerned.

Despite his fatigue, Trey knew that he would not sleep. All he could think of was what Shentob had said to him: the way the demon had mentioned Trey’s father, Daniel, implying that he too had fought here and that Shentob had known him.

There was a small cough outside his cell, and Trey quickly turned and went over to the bars.

‘Shentob said that he would come back,’ the demon said. He was carrying something bulky wrapped up in an old blanket. Trey slid back the heavy bolt and opened the grille door, stepping back so that the nether-creature could pass. Before crossing the threshold the little one-eyed demon looked nervously in the direction of the other cells.