mission magic 01 - the incubus job (13 page)

That was about one percent true. Maybe two. Mostly it gave me time to think, it irritated the demon, and it gave Law more time to escape his trap. All good things.

“How will it help you?”

“It might tell me why you think I can actually open the box. And as long as you’re being helpful, you might tell me what the spells on the outside actually say and tell me how you came to be chained to this particular family of sorcerers and why you triggered the shutdown shields on Effrayant.” The last was a wild guess, but it made sense. Or rather, nothing else made better sense.

“I was chained in the usual manner for my kind,” it said.

“I’m afraid I’m not terribly familiar with demon summoning,” I said. I did know a fair amount about getting rid of the bastards. I’d banished at least fifty in my career. I’d even carved some spells to help me do just that. I had a feeling it would take more than those to get rid of So’la. “Why did they pick you out to turn into their pet demon?”

That seemed to offend the demon. It straightened, its wings stretching wide. One had a rip in its leathery surface, about the size of my hand. I wondered if it could fly. “I am So’la! Prince of the Twelfth Legion, Lord of the Karnath Sands and Pasivan Fields, Commander of the Nebbeth and the forty dominions of Leian’obe.”

“Impressive.” A prince. That wasn’t good. Royalty translated into serious magical power. At least I knew the proper pronoun to use for him now. Though apparently he was into wearing women’s bodies, so maybe he preferred being called a she. No. Too confusing for me now. I focused.

Being a demon prince meant So’la wasn’t stupid. He was probably a brilliant tactician as well. You didn’t accrue territory and influence in the demonlands if you didn’t know what you were doing.

“Okay, so you’re a demon bigwig. What did they want you for?”

The obvious answer was to have their own demon slave at their beck and call. I was hoping for some details on what sorts of powers he had. There had to be thousands of demon princes and rulers and lords and such. Why had his master chosen So’la in particular?

I suppose I shouldn’t have been all that surprised by the answer, as miserably unhelpful as it was.

“It was foretold.”

Well, crap on a cracker. Of course it was. Pretty much So’la had won the sucks-to-be-you lottery. Congratulations. Here’s some confetti. Now wear these shackles and be my slave. “Sorry.”

Maybe it’s weird to commiserate with a demon who just spent the past few minutes threatening and torturing you. Law probably would have washed my mouth out with soap. I couldn’t help it, though. It wasn’t fair and while I don’t like demons much, I also don’t think they deserve slavery.

I guess So’la, too, thought it was a pretty bizarre thing to say. His mouth opened and closed without a sound. I’d made a demon speechless. Go me.

“What did your master make you do?” I asked.

I wouldn’t swear on it, but I thought I saw the creature flinch. It had to be bad if So’la’s not-so-tender feelings had been hurt. I thought for a second that he wouldn’t reply.

“Children.”

One word. A flare of silver pain ripped through me. I staggered and dropped to my knees. In that moment, Tabitha grabbed my brain and I saw, no, I lived what she’d lived. There was So’la, drenched in blood. The demon held a lump of bloody flesh in his hands, tearing at it with unbridled ferocity. His eyes were nearly black with pinpricks of orange at the center. At his feet sprawled bodies mutilated beyond all recognition. I could barely tell they were human. They’d been torn apart. Jagged ends of bones stuck up from chunks of meat. Fingers littered the ground, along with bits of ears, noses, lips, and feet.

I wanted to look away but I couldn’t. Tabitha couldn’t. So’la ate what he held then faced me. Faced her in the memory. The demon strode forward. After that—

I passed out. When I woke up, I was back to myself with So’la bent over me. I twisted and vomited. Over and over. I couldn’t seem to stop. The images hammered me. The remembered feeling of razor talons slicing through Tabitha’s skin—my skin. We were one and the same. We couldn’t move, couldn’t even scream. He hadn’t allowed us to pass out. The pain was endless. I felt my skin peeling away then the rush of cold air into my stomach cavity. I felt claws inside me, pulling out my organs, scraping my insides.

The smell oppressed me. Blood, body waste, and something else . . . sulfur maybe. And incense. A heavy smoke swirled thick in the air. It coated my mouth, nose, and lungs. It rubbed caustically on my skin, itching and burning.

I felt the demon’s tongue. It licked up my blood. It made slurping sounds. I wanted to die. Please let me die ! But I couldn’t. Next came snapping of bones and the tearing of flesh. It seemed I could not feel any more pain or terror, and yet I did. More and more and more.

I came back to myself again. I was crying. Big, jagged sobs. I felt Tabitha beside me. I wished I could hold her. I wished I could take away what had happened.

So’la had knelt beside me. He put his bone-stick hand on my shoulder—the same hand that had torn Tabitha apart—and gave a little shake.

“What’s happened?”

I wiped my face on my sleeve and forced myself to sit up. I’d spent entirely too much time on my ass as it was. I should have lied. I should have told him to fuck off and die.

“They didn’t just make you kill. You butchered. Tortured. You ate them.” I hesitated. “You liked it.” It was true. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to kill children, but he’d enjoyed the feast of both flesh and fear. Maybe he hadn’t had a choice in what he did, but that didn’t mean he fought all that hard not do to it.

The orange eyes widened, and for a moment, the creature’s expression looked almost lost. “Can you not regret what gives you pleasure and destroys your soul?”

Abruptly he leaped up and strode away in an odd, jerking gait, his feet making clacking sounds on the slate.

“You have a soul?” I shook away the question. Unimportant. “So you got off on it, but didn’t want to. Is that it?”

“Isn’t that what meth addicts feel? Drug addicts? One step down a dreadful road and you cannot turn back.”

“So quit.”

“I am trying.”

I climbed to my feet, at the same time evoking my shields.

So’la laughed. “Do you think those will save you from me?”

“I guess I’ll find out.”

He thrust out his hand, and flames plumed from his fingers. They engulfed me. Showy but hardly effective. Not if he was trying to hurt me. I didn’t bother suppressing them. My shields kept me cool enough, and I’d designed them to block demon fire. It’s a pretty basic weapon in any demon’s arsenal. I expected more of So’la the great and fabulous prince of whatever and lord of blah blah blah.

The flames died. Next came a swarm of flying bugs the size of hummingbirds. They had green fangs, red eyes, and hooked feet. Their wings were almost transparent and they massed together like bees. They weren’t any more effective against my shields than the flames. Was So’la holding back? Why?

The swarm vanished. When the next attack didn’t come right away, I realized the demon wasn’t giving me his full attention. He was distracted. That could only mean . . . Law. He was trying to escape, or was somehow attacking So’la from another angle.

“I need chalk,” I said to my ghosts. “Quick.” I shot a couple of quick bolts of magic at the demon. They hit his shields and exploded in sparks.

Just then a fat piece of yellow chalk was shoved into my hand. I gripped it. So’la rounded on me, pointing and muttering. Oily red and black smoke spewed from his hand. It rolled toward, wrapping around my shields, and hiding me from sight. It also tried to crush me. I strengthened my shields as I bent down and scribed two circles around myself. Damn. I needed to get the box before I went any further.

“Edna. I need Law to hit So’la hard. Can you go tell him?”

She didn’t answer but I felt her leave me. It wasn’t even a minute later when So’la howled. The smoke around me started to dissipate. I ran for the box. Bright blue light surrounded the demon. It crackled with cold. So’la was probably from a fire or earth clan, which mean he hated the cold.

I didn’t waste time watching but scribed two concentric circles around me and the box. I drew runes in between, chanting all the while. The slate offered a smooth surface for drawing. When I’d finished, I touched the inner circle and whispered a command. Silver light spun around me, lighting the runes and both circles on fire. I smiled and let my personal shields drop. I didn’t want to waste energy on them. The ward circle was tied to the bones of the earth. It would take a lot for So’la to break it. I was hoping he didn’t have what it took.

I considered what to do next. The fact that Law wasn’t here meant that he hadn’t fully escaped. The only good way I knew how to get him free was to get inside the box and use whatever was inside to order So’la to release him. The thought of it made me sick. I tried to draw the line against performing compulsions, but sometimes it was necessary. Like now.

The demon had been certain I could open the box. But how? I sat down with it in my lap. I turned it over. Something knocked around inside. There was no latch of any kind. I couldn’t see a crack for the lid. The damned thing didn’t even look like it opened. I doubted throwing it on the ground would help. It was likely protected against brute force. That left cunning and thinking outside the box. Pun totally intended.

I traced the symbols. There was a malevolence to them. A hunger. Would they respond to blood? That might be the key. The blood of the master or his family. That seemed a little too simple, though, and stupid. An enemy might cut off their fingers or heads just to get into the box. No, this was hungry for something else.

The answer came to me before I even could think. I knew I was right. Having seen what So’la had been made to do, I knew what the box wanted: sacrifice. It was what I’d expect of masters who told their demon to torture children. It might want the death itself or the soul or even the heart of the victim. None of which I had handy. Not that I would ever be willing to even think of going there.

Law, I reminded myself.

I smiled grimly. So maybe I would go there with the right motivation. I did have one sacrifice I could make and still live with myself. Well, not really live. That was an unfortunate choice. The trouble was how was I going to use the box’s contents to control So’la after I was dead?

I tabled the thought. I was certain I still had other options. If only I could think of them.

Chapter 8

Law was doing a pretty good job of keeping So’la entertained. I turned the box again, hoping to find inspiration. I wondered if I could overload the spells and burn them out. I doubted it. It was too easy, and I was willing to bet So’la’s master had planned for that kind of theft. I needed to finesse it.

“I don’t suppose any of you have ideas?” I asked my ghosts.

A collective murmur of “No” was my reply.

“I didn’t think so. Come on, think, Mallory. How do you open a sealed box?” An idea struck me. “Or maybe I don’t. Maybe I don’t open it at all. Maybe I get the treasure out another way.”

I thought maybe I could do it. I’d turned myself mostly invisible once, which was slightly similar to making myself somewhat insubstantial. Except even if I could reach inside, I’d be too insubstantial to take the contents.

“Can any of you reach inside and grab them? Whatever they are? Maybe take a look inside and tell me what’s there?” I asked the ghosts. Once again the answer was negative.

Before I could go any further, Edna appeared outside the circle. Damn. She couldn’t cross to safety.

“The sorcerer asks if you are well.”

“For now. Ask him if he has any ideas for getting into the box. If I can get a hold of whatever controls the demon, I can put an end to this.”

Edna frowned then nodded and vanished.

I looked at the box again, trying to see it in a new light. Breaking it was out of the question. Offering it a sacrifice was at the bottom of the list. I didn’t have the power to overload the spells. I didn’t have the knowledge to unwind them. So what did that leave me?

I stroked the top of the box again. Once again, I felt malevolence and hunger. Somehow, I needed to satisfy it without killing myself.

An idea ran through me. A very bad idea. A very bad, very possible, very painful idea.

“Tabitha,” I called. “I need your help. I want you to give me your memories of that night again.” My stomach lurched at the thought of reliving them, but it might be enough to appease the box.

Tabitha’s ghost shimmered into view in front of me. She looked down at me. She no longer looked scared. Her expression was troubled. I wanted to ask her why, but she wasn’t going to answer and I didn’t read minds.

“Can you do it?” I asked. “Will you?”

She frowned, her brows furrowing together, her mouth pursing. I didn’t need to hear the question to understand what she was asking. Why?

“It might satisfy the spells on the box. They want a sacrifice of some kind, likely with some violence and gore on top. Your experience is still so vivid, it might work. Once I get the box open, I can use what’s inside to banish the demon.”

“The sorcerer says you must not.” Edna had reappeared and she looked flustered. “The sorcerer says to wait for him. He will come soon. Stay safe.”

Anger sizzled through me, followed by betrayed hurt. He still didn’t think I could handle my business. I was crippled by my unwillingness to kill. Well, the box didn’t need killing. Besides, I’d survived just fine for six years without him, and I’d faced tougher creatures than So’la.

And nearly died, a traitorous voice whispered inside. That might be so, I told that voice, but I didn’t and I won’t this time either.

“It’s okay, Edna. I got this.” I turned my attention back to Tabitha. “Will do you it?”

She gave an uncertain nod, clearly unhappy.

“Okay. I’m going to cut myself and dribble some blood on the box. Then I want you to hit me with your memories. Okay?” I waited for her nod. I was still wearing my slinky dress with nothing under it but thong underwear. Cutting myself wasn’t going to be so simple. I remembered I still had the amulet around my neck. I pulled it off. Using the edge of the box, I pried the pointy top of the emerald out of its setting. I turned it and cut a gash into the heel of my thumb. Blood welled.