Fine. I’ll do this without you. Crazy, but I missed her. She had been part of me for so long that her withdrawal left me with a hole inside. Sometimes I’d hated her fiercely, like when she taunted Chance about my loving Kel, but just as my love had become hers, her pain became mine.
“We have one advantage,” Greydusk whispered. “They will not expect you to return and fight your way to the heart of the castle.”
“They probably think she’s gone,” Chance agreed.
“Seeking more allies?” Shannon sounded steady. Fearless, even.
She’d come so far from the scared kid on the bike, desperate to get out of the town that meant to sacrifice her for being different. God, I loved this girl. A trauma like this would’ve destroyed anyone else, but she took it on the chin and rolled with it. Maybe Kilmer had a reason for pride after all. I hoped I got a chance to tell her how amazing she was. A frantic escape didn’t offer the right time for emotional talks.
Light of foot, I ran behind Greydusk. He cut through little-used corridors that connected abandoned parts of the castle. Soon I was helplessly lost. If he betrayed me now to save his own life, I had no defense. My stomach tightened with fear; he might be leading us into a trap. No. I don’t believe that. If he was going to do that, he could’ve just summoned the enemy to the courtyard.
For a good while, the coast seemed clear, though shrieks and sounds of combat echoed through the halls. No defenders remained apart from us, so this was just the enemy slaughtering the helpless. Xibalba would suffer with Oz on the throne, for there was no question that was his goal.
The rooms Shannon had decorated with such painstaking care lay in ruins. Wild hands had rent the fabrics and set random fires. No rhyme or reason to it—just destruction for its own sake. Her expression revealed that this hurt her as much as anything had since she first realized she probably wouldn’t see Jesse again.
Wish I could fix everything for you, Shan. But it’s all so fucked up.
Greydusk stopped us once and I pressed up against the wall, listening to my heartbeat. A troop of Hazo tromped past us in the next room and took the adjoining hallway. The Imaron was uncanny in his ability to gauge such things.
“You’re sensing them, aren’t you?”
He inclined his head. “It’s a simple matter to taste eddies in the air.”
“For you, maybe,” Shannon muttered.
Chance asked, “How close are we?”
“Our course has been circuitous,” the demon replied. “I was afraid the direct route would draw too much fire.”
“That’s not an answer,” Chance pointed out.
Weariness drew Greydusk’s voice tight. “Halfway, provided my memory serves. I’ve only gone past the portal room once.”
Belatedly I registered the demon’s uncertainty; he wasn’t positive we were going the right way. It must suck to have so much weight on his shoulders. Maybe I could help…I had been there, long ago, but the details were fuzzy.
Ninlil, can you tell me where we are? Where do we need to go from here?
Silence.
I guessed I was on my own. Poor Greydusk. Poor all of us.
The Imaron scanned, striving to recall our next turn. With somewhat less surety, he led us to the left. This part of the palace hadn’t been restored yet, so there were loose stones and broken tiles. The floor showed long years of neglect.
Good. Maybe they won’t look for us here.
That was a long shot. If I was Oz, I’d search every inch of this place. Fortunately for us, the stronghold was a warren. In the time it took him to cover all that ground, we might get away. Hope fluttered inside my chest, as Greydusk found the connecting corridor.
Our luck couldn’t last, of course. In the next room, we ran into a squad of Saremon—six strong—and as soon as they saw us, they began casting.
Pretty, Pretty Pain
The fireball slammed the floor in front of us and I dove backward. None of Ninlil’s reflexes now, just my own clumsiness. I did have the echo of spells she’d cast, however, and I brought the power to bear. It wasn’t enough to drive all the enemies out of the castle, but maybe, just maybe, I could defeat the ones trying to stop us from reaching the portal room.
The magick buzzed in my head, but I felt no pain. I sent the spell out my fingertips and dropped the confusion on them. Three of them shook it off, as their shields were stronger; these were among the best the Saremon had to offer. It wouldn’t be that simple, unfortunately. And before the ones I’d caught could launch spells at each other, their companions slapped them with a cleansing charm.
Shit, they were ready for us. They’d been studying my methods.
“Oz is waiting for you,” one taunted me. “You’ll never survive this.”
“Neither will you,” I answered.
Before the Saremon finished casting, Chance, Shannon, and Greydusk closed to melee. She didn’t have her radio, but unlike me, she showed no hesitation about physical conflict. Her swordwork looked strong to my inexperienced eyes; it was certainly better than the mages were used to, and the Saremon found it difficult to focus on casting while fending off physical blows. She skewered one as Chance set fire to another. The mage ran, slapping at his burning robes; then his fear became screams of agony as his flesh melted in the magickal fire that could not be extinguished until all fuel was consumed.
Greydusk drained a third, hopefully taking all his energy along with his knowledge. I wasn’t clear on how that worked without Ninlil whispering advice, but she wasn’t talking. That left three, even odds. A tall horned Saremon mage prepared a spell, but Shannon hacked off his fingers before he could complete the gesture. His cry interrupted the effect, and Chance finished him.
The sounds of battle alerted more enemies. Footfalls pounded in our direction and I spun. Combat might not be my forte, but I did have assets. Quickly, I pricked my fingers and used my athame to draw a rune behind us; then I fed power to it until a shimmering wall sprang into being. The Hazo, drawn by our battle with the Saremon, slammed into it en masse, which would’ve been funny if I wasn’t so worried.
“You’ll have to take the long way around,” I yelled.
I spun in time to see Greydusk eviscerate a fifth with a Swordwraith’s natural weapon. The partial transformation impressed me, but there was no time to admire my companion’s skill. Only one Saremon remained; she tried to run, but Shannon took her from behind with a slash across her hamstring. The demoness went down.
“Don’t kill me,” she begged. “I was only following orders. I can help you.”
“At the first sign of trouble, she’ll turn,” Greydusk said.
I knew he was right. But maybe I could get some information first. So I did something dreadful to this cowering female; I gave her hope.
“Possibly,” I allowed.
“I’m Oz’s right hand.” It was clearly an empty boast.
I pretended to believe her. “Are you? Prove it. What’s his true name?”
The Saremon female laughed with a touch of hysteria. “Nobody knows that, except Oz’s mother, and he killed her two centuries ago to keep her from talking.”
“Nice,” Chance muttered.
“So far you’re not telling me anything worth the risk of letting you go,” I pointed out. “I don’t want excuses. Dazzle me.”
Her brow furrowed. “He plans to kill you and take the throne himself, now that you’ve opened the castle. He’ll restore order in the city and everyone will be so grateful, they won’t care if he has royal blood. He thinks power is enough.”
“That’s probably true,” Greydusk said.
Shannon shrugged. “So? That’s not news. And I don’t see how it helps us.”
I gazed down at the wounded Saremon on the floor. She wrapped her arms around her knees, drawing them to her chest as if they could protect her. Her horns were tiny, barely there amid the tangled mass of her black hair. I wondered if that meant she was young, and then I cut the thread of that thought. I couldn’t feel sorry for her. In my place, she would’ve killed me by now.