Rival Demons (7 page)

Marlana frowned. "The shaman isn't going to want
to help a human," she said.

The disdain in her voice made me want to punch
her. I opened my mouth to give her a piece of my mind, but Lea
spoke before I could.

"Perhaps I can convince her to help," Lea said.
She nodded to Jackson and he lifted Mary Anne's shirt over her
wound.

Not caring about the blood that trickled through
his fingertips, he placed his hand directly on the gash in her
side. The black energy of his magic manifested and surrounded her
middle section. Mary Anne moaned, gripping the sleeves of my dress
tight.

"You're hurting her," I said.

Jackson ignored me, his eyes locked on the
wound. When the tension in his arms relaxed, so did Mary Anne's
body. She slumped against me, and I struggled to hold up her
weight. I glanced down at the bloodied place in her side and sighed
with relief when I saw that the bleeding had stopped.

"That will hold for a little while," Jackson
said. "But we really should get her to the shaman."

"Andros will want to speak with you first,"
Jericho said.

I turned in surprise. I hadn't heard or seen him
come through the soul stone. Marlana had been standing beside us,
and I was certain she hadn't pressed the dark stone to let him in.
I wondered how exactly the portals here worked and how they kept
unwanted demons or humans from coming through. But now wasn't the
time to ask a lot of questions.

"Then please go and get him and let him know we
are here," Lea said, her voice commanding.

Marlana stayed with us as Jericho shifted into
smoke and flew down the passageway.

I helped Mary Anne into Jackson's arms and he
cradled her close as we waited.

"What is this place?" I asked Marlana. "Did you
guys build it?"

She turned her face away from me, refusing to
acknowledge me. I took a deep breath and tried to remind myself
that the only humans she'd probably ever seen were witches from the
Order who had come to this world to do terrible things.

"The Underground was discovered rather than
built," Lea said, filling the awkward silence. "The demons who live
here now call themselves the Resistance, and they began moving into
this place about seventy years ago when they first discovered it.
No one really knows how long the Underground has existed, though.
It's believed to have been built by an ancient race of trolls that
went extinct in the shadow world over six thousand years ago."

Trolls? Not exactly what I'd been expecting to
hear.

"Does the king know about it?" I asked.

"He didn't fifty years ago," Jackson said,
looking to Marlana. "Does he now?"

She shook her head. "No, we've managed to keep
our whereabouts a secret, but he knows the Resistance exists, of
course," she said. "But there are many portals throughout the
Northern Kingdom and we are very careful to make sure no one knows
where they lead."

Silence descended on us again as we stood,
waiting for Andros to arrive. I wasn't sure, but I guessed he must
be the leader of the Resistance. At the very least, he seemed to be
the one making the final decision about whether we could stay here
or not.

When he finally did arrive, it was in a rush of
black smoke. He took form as a tall, very handsome man with long
black hair and olive colored skin. His eyes were shockingly blue
and seemed to have a glowing light that came from within.

"Princess Lazalea," he said, bowing to her and
taking her hand. "You have no idea how happy I am to see you."

Next, he turned to Jackson and clapped him on
the shoulder.

"Andros, thank you for seeing us," Jackson said.
"I know we're putting you in an awkward position by bringing two
human witches to the Underground, but once you hear the whole
story, you'll understand that we had no choice."

Andros glanced at me, then at Mary Anne, still
cradled in Jackson's arms. "This will be difficult to explain to
the council, but considering our long friendship and your status
among our people, I am going to place my trust in you."

I let out a long breath, relieved to hear that
we could stay. At least for now.

"I'm sorry to ask more from you," Jackson said.
"But this girl is injured badly and needs to see a shaman."

Andros held up his hand. "Of course, my friend,"
he said. "I will have rooms prepared for all of you and once you
are settled, I'll have the shaman sent to your quarters
immediately."

"Thank you," Lea said.

"All I ask is that you stay in your rooms until
you are called for," he said. "You'll be perfectly safe and
comfortable there."

"Whatever you need," Jackson said. "We really
appreciate this."

Andros nodded, then disappeared down the
hallway.

The four of us waited there with Marlana for a
little while until Jericho finally reappeared.

"I'll show you to your rooms," he said. "Follow
me."

I walked behind the others as we made our way
down the long corridor.

In the distance, I could make out a brighter
light where the hallway seemed to open up into a larger area. As we
got closer, I could make out the sound of voices. Clanging metal.
Footsteps. The hiss and sizzle of food being cooked. It was the
sound of everyday life. Of movement and laughter and work.

It was the sound of the Underground.

We stood at the top of a large marble staircase
overlooking a marketplace so large you could have fit six football
fields inside of it. The ceilings were more than fifty feet high. I
stared out, open-mouthed. Who could have ever guessed something
this grand and beautiful existed so far under the ground?

The room was shaped like a giant rectangle with
long sides extending from where we stood at the front of the space.
The sides of the room were lined with staircases leading to dozens
of tunnels carved into the sides of the rock.

The floor looked like it had once been some kind
of grand ballroom, but now the area was filled with hundreds of
colorful tents. Demons moved about, traveling up and down
staircases, moving below us from one tented shop to another. The
sounds of everyday life and movement echoed through the hall. The
smell of food wafted up from a few makeshift restaurants scattered
throughout the room. A clanging sounded from a blacksmith's shop
below where a big burly man pounded on a large silver sword.

"What is this place?" I asked.

"This is the Grand Hall," Jericho said. "It's
our central marketplace. All our shops are here. Food, clothes,
supplies, everything. You should be able to find anything you need
here, but for now, I'd like to get you all to your rooms."

"Of course," Jackson said.

Jericho turned quickly on his heel and motioned
for us to follow. He led us down the long stairway to the left,
along the edge of the tents below, past three tunnels, then finally
up the fourth staircase and into a new tunnel. All along the way,
demons stopped to stare at us. Some of them probably recognized
their Princess, but most of them kept their eyes trained on me and
Mary Anne. Human witches invading their space.

I felt very exposed in my thin white dress with
its rip up the side and streaks of dirt and blood.

So much for a great first impression.

I did my best to walk with my head up and not
show my fear or embarrassment. It seemed a little bit ironic that
the one safe place Jackson could think of to bring me to was full
of demons who despised humans. He'd said they would come around
once they learned more about me, but I wasn't so sure. The way they
looked at me now made it very obvious they didn't want me here.
Some even looked openly afraid of me.

Stepping into the more quiet corridor, I relaxed
a little. The hallway was deserted except for our small group of
travelers. Jericho led us down toward the very end of the hall, and
all along the way we passed dozens of stone doors. I shivered as
this place reminded me of the Hall of Doorways in Shadowford's
attic. I wondered where all of these doors led to.

We finally came to a stop in front of a set of
double doors at the very end of the hallway.

"We have plenty of extra housing down here,"
Jericho said. "Andros decided to put you on one of the empty halls.
The ladies will all share this one suite of rooms if that's okay. I
understand if you'd rather be in a room separate from the
humans."

"I'm sure this will be fine," Lea said.

Jericho wasn't very good at hiding his
disappointment. He frowned, then let his eyes flicker over me, no
doubt wondering why in the world a Princess would want to live with
two human witches. I honestly just wanted to stick my tongue out at
him.

"Can we get inside?" Jackson asked, his voice
tense. "I have a girl here who needs medical attention, and I don't
think we have any time to waste."

"Of course," Jericho said. He took a small green
stone from his pocket, then placed it up against a carved symbol in
the stone beside the doors.

Both of the large double doors opened inward to
reveal a gorgeous suite of rooms beyond. I tried not to act
impressed, but it was hard. Jericho led us inside, and I had to
press my lips together to keep my mouth from hanging open.

The floors were pure white marble, smooth and
cool and polished to a high shine. The walls were a bluish-gray
slate and were decorated with golden sculptures and paintings made
of colors so real and bright, they looked like windows to some
outdoor landscape. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling in
the center of the room, but it wasn't like any chandelier I'd ever
seen before. It was a mess of geometric shapes and crystals in
about seven different colors ranging from aqua to dark purple.

Jackson laid Mary Anne down on a soft
fur-covered couch in the living room. "I take it the shaman is on
her way?"

He said it more as a demand than a question. He
seemed to be losing his patience with Jericho. He definitely didn't
seem like he was in any hurry to help Mary Anne.

"I'll take care of it right away," Jericho said.
"And I left one of my stones on the table there for you just in
case."

Lea glanced toward the table in the main area
and nodded.

I walked over to the table as she moved to see
him to the door. I hadn't noticed him lay it down, but now there
was a very small, round gemstone laying in the center of the white
table. A ruby from the looks of it. I picked it up and rubbed my
index finger over the smooth surface of it.

It seemed gemstones were used everywhere here
in the Underground. First, there was the dark stone that Marlana
kept touching to bring us down through the soul stone. There was
the soul stone itself, covering the area above this entire hidden
fortress. There was the key to this suite – a green stone pressed
against the strange symbol outside. And now Jericho had left a
small red stone here so that we could contact him if we needed
anything.

My mind raced. What was the true power of all
these stones? And how did it relate to the portal stone in each of
the demon gate towns? How did it relate to the power of my own lost
pendant?

I set the ruby red stone back on the table.
Maybe hiding down here wouldn't turn out to be a complete loss. I
couldn't help but think that the answer to some of my many
questions about the Order lay in the secret of the stones.

The three of us sat in the living area just
staring at Mary Anne as she slept. We all jumped up when the knock
sounded. Lea was the first to reach the door, and she looked
relieved to see the woman standing there with her beaded hair and
long, flowing dress.

"Thank you for coming, Priestess." Lea took the
woman's hand and brought it to her lips.

The shaman bowed her head. "It's my pleasure,
Princess," she said. Her gaze took in the room around her. "I don't
have much experience healing humans, but if this girl is truly a
friend of yours, I will do everything within my power to make her
better."

I stood as still as a statue, not knowing
whether I should bow to this woman or leave the room. Would my
presence here make her uncomfortable? I looked to Jackson for some
kind of clue, but he wasn't paying any attention to me. His eyes
were glued to Mary Anne.

Feeling that I would be better off out of the
way, I moved to the very far corner of the room and sat in a large
blue chair, watching.

The shaman priestess moved quickly to Mary
Anne's side. She pulled a vial of bright orange liquid from her
bag. "Where is she wounded?"

Jackson lifted Mary Anne's shirt on her right
side. I winced at the ugly wound, the tiger's teeth marks still
prominent against her bruised skin. There was so much blood
everywhere.

"The only other wound is the one you see on her
face," he said. "But that one doesn't seem to give her much trouble
other than her appearance."

The long scratch across Mary Anne's face had
healed really well. It was scabbed over and the color of rust, but
it wasn't infected like the gash in her side.

The shaman woman uncorked the bottle in her hand
and closed her eyes. She began to chant and the bottle rose up into
the air over Mary Anne's side, moving in slow circles. I couldn't
make out what the woman was saying. She spoke low and close, as if
she were speaking only to Mary Anne. The orange liquid bubbled and
steamed, sending a sweet smelling smoke into the air. The shaman
priestess rocked forward, wafting the steam into her own face.

Her eyes opened suddenly and instead of the blue
eyes I'd noticed when she first walked into the room, her eyes were
now a bright, fiery orange. She stared ahead as if seeing into some
other dimension. She began to hum something so sad, it brought
tears to my eyes. Mary Anne shifted on the couch.