devil 03 - tween hearts fire and devils delight (11 page)

Sighing, I nodded and gave him my hand.

* * * * *

She was seated cross-legged, hovering above the floor. Her arms rested on her knees, palms up and her head was laid back. Her eyes were closed. She made no sound at all and, although I peered closely at her thin chest I could see no signs of breathing. Her skin glowed softly.

By contrast, Flick wheezed behind me and snorted, trying to pull air into his clogged and crusty nose. I winced, turning to him. “Go back to your cloud. I’ll call you when I’m done here.”

He nodded gratefully and popped off.

I stood silently, looking around. The room was dark, with the only light coming from the figure in the center of the room. I could make out the mundane shapes of furniture in the shadows but no windows and only one door in the room. The walls were empty of adornments.

Prophets have no need of windows or pretty things. Their vision is totally internal.

“Mx. Phelps. You straddle the forks of prophecy.”

I frowned. What could I say to that?

“Prophecy represents you heavily. Were you aware of that?”

“I’m afraid so.”

She lowered her head and opened her eyes. I’d been in the presence of a prophet one other time, when I was pretty young, so I didn’t jump as her swirling silver eyes met mine. But I did need to repress a shiver.

“Around you spins a maelstrom.”

“Tell me about it,” I murmured.

“The maelstrom beats against the world’s edges.”

“What does that mean?”

The prophet ignored me as only a prophet can.

“Evil taints your life and touches all you love.”

This was beginning to feel like a bad palm reading.

She stopped suddenly and laughed. “But enough about you.”

I jerked in surprise.

Amazingly, she smiled at me.

I frowned. “So you were just jerking my chain?”

She shook her head, blonde hair, wispy like dandelion seeds, flew around her extremely thin shoulders. “No, it was all true.”

My frown deepened into a scowl. “You have a strange sense of humor.”

Her smile widened. “I do, don’t I? You aren’t the first to speak of it.” She held out a hand, indicating a large pillow on the floor in front of her. “Sit.” Then she added, “Please?” With a gentle smile.

I sat but the scowl stayed on my face. I had a feeling I’d be needing it again.

She sighed and looked toward me with those blind, swirling eyes. “What we must speak of here is grave, Astra Q Phelps. I have worked many weeks in an attempt to find a fork that could be engaged to pull us back from where we are headed. I’ve yet to find an answer.”

See, I knew I’d need that scowl. “Tell me where we’re headed then.”

“Millennia ago, before mankind walked the Earth, a dark and magic force ruled life there. It was a violent force, filled with hateful beings whose main joy was in the destruction of all things. Such destructive tendencies must of course bring the end of any era. As it did then. When the world below became so debauched that it could no longer be borne, He sent His army to deal with it.”

“It was eradicated?”

She swung the dandelion seeds again. “No. As with all things magical it could not be completely eradicated. It retained a pinprick of existence, which the celestial army locked away for all time.”

I heard a giant “but” coming, so I decided to head it off at the proverbial fork. “But it escaped didn’t it?”

She focused those eyes on me, making me grow cold.

“I’m afraid it’s worse than that. It was carried out by one who should have known better. He has nurtured it quietly since that time, releasing tendrils of it when the opportunity arose.”

I felt myself go cold. Satan. “Releasing it? How, when?”

“The first tendril touched the Earth during the great wars.”

“Shit!”

She nodded. “Yes, demons and gargoyles brought it in unknowingly, in his service.”

“What is this thing exactly?”

She sighed. “It is the core of what magic used to be. It has been horribly twisted. All that is good about magic was wrung from it millennia ago. It is food for the dark mind and poison for all that is good and non-magical.”

I frowned. “So that’s what’s getting the humans all worked up? This…layer…of twisted magic?”

The prophet nodded. “Humans have coexisted with magic as long as its elements, both good and bad, remained at an acceptable level. But this veil of twisted magic grows stronger every day and their tender psyches can’t deal with the levels that are coming.”

“How can we stop it?”

“Prophecy has many forks in this area, with many variables. Many battles will be fought over this. But one thing is clear and constant. The Old Serpent set this plague upon the world of man, he will bring it forth, killing all that is non-magical and good. But he cannot do it alone.”

I didn’t like the sound of that. “Just tell me whose ass I need to kick.”

Her thin, pink lips bent into a sad smile. “It is not that simple, of course.”

“Of course,” I groused.

The prophet suddenly stiffened and her head dropped back, her eyes closing. Her arms resumed their position across her knees and her palms slid skyward. Her body pulsed under a fine and constant tremor.

Her lips started to move and prophecy emerged.

“The layer cannot fully fall until the circle of twelve is set. One conduit for each month of the human year. These twelve will bear the Serpent’s mark and lend their unique power to the Serpent’s dark plan.

“The Serpent will call his conduits one by one and court them. Some will come easily, willingly, others will try to withstand his will. Whether these will succeed will mean all.

“Once the Serpent has his conduits set, he will bid them join their power. Each will provide a piece of what is needed to draw the veil into its fullest form. Together, these conduits will pull the layer over the Earth, closing out the light of humanity for all time.

“In the void left behind by eradication of the light, darkness will thrive. Those who have forged the mantle of leadership in dark power will lead this new world. They will be nearly omnipotent in their power. Nothing will stop them.”

She stopped suddenly and gave a shudder, then lowered her head and focused those scary eyes on me again. “That is the fork that poisons all.”

I felt my stomach drop. “So what you’re telling me is…”

“Yes. I speak of the end of the human race and complete rule by the Royal Devil Court. And prophecy tells me that you might be the only one who can stop it.”

“Well fork me,” I murmured.

* * * * *

I didn’t talk about what I’d learned when Flick came to get me. I wasn’t ready to discuss my part in it yet. I had a feeling that this was the task that would finally be beyond my abilities to accomplish. All my years of preparation and training could not possibly be enough to allow me to fight the Serpent and his diabolical plans and come out ahead. I was just one little Tweener. I didn’t even really know how to use my magic properly.

Prophecy just sucked.

I checked in at the house when I reached the Phelps fortress but my father hadn’t returned. There was a note from Darma for him on the kitchen table, telling him she’d returned home. I climbed into the booger and set the directional panel for home. On the way I checked in with Emo.

“Hey, boss.” His gorgeous face looked tired but he had good color.

“Hey yourself. How’re you feeling?”

He tried a smile that didn’t quite make it all the way across his face. “I’m great. I’ll be back in the office tomorrow.”

I frowned. “Are you sure? You need to get your strength back.”

“I need to get out of this damn bed. I’ll be fine.”

I grinned. “I’m not gonna let you vanquish a demon the first day.”

He fake scowled. “Hell. I was really looking forward to that.”

I laughed. “See you tomorrow.”

“Night, boss.”

* * * * *

The booger slid out of the sky and hovered over my street, staying just above building level. It was relatively quiet. Most of the activity had left the street. A few small fires still burned here and there and debris from the riot crunched under the feet and blew against members of the NMPD, who had been called out to collect bodies and get the injured to unplanned injury.

I felt a sinking feeling in my gut as I realized that it was only going to get much worse if the twisted veil of magic encompassed the Earth. The human race would quickly find itself in a race between succumbing to its own madness and being consumed by the unchecked evil that would have taken over their world. I couldn’t help wondering where that would leave Tweeners and other purveyors of light magic. We would be alone in a dark world, knowing that we could only survive as long as we were willing to fight for every breath. Our future was only slightly less bleak than the one the human race faced. It was a scenario that could not be. I had to stop it.

Somehow.

I punched in the code to open the hoverpark gate and swung around to enter. As the gate slid slowly open my televisual blinked and Darma’s face wavered there. I pounded the instrument panel with my fist and her image sharpened slightly.

My heart stopped in my chest. Her pale face and white-blonde hair were covered in blood.

“Holy shit! Darma. Where are you?”

She didn’t speak. Her lips were moving but nothing was coming out. At first I thought the sound was broken in the booger but then I heard her whimper.

This was beginning to become a habit. “Darma, tell me where you are.”

“Home.”

“I’ll be there in two minutes.” I was punching Darma’s home location into the booger’s directional panel before her image faded from the screen. I programmed it for minimum time and the booger choked, sputtered and shot straight up into the air, then swung upside down and took off. I rolled it upright again and programmed it for maximum speed.

Darma owned one half of a townhouse building in downtown Angel City. It was a building that had existed since before the great wars and had been meticulously restored to keep it clean and modern. The building, like its neighbors on both sides and down the street, was built of warm, brown stone and decorated with antique paint and wrought iron trimmings.

Darma even had a small yard, with trees and flowers.

I left the booger on the street and ran up the short sidewalk to her front door. The door was open and as I moved closer I could see that it was covered with claw marks and hung off the frame by a single piece of metal.

Blood coated both walls of the hallway as I entered the dimly lighted home. I could smell violent death in the house. It permeated the small space.

I called out for Darma and heard her sobbing. Following the sound I found her, curled in a fetal position in a back corner of the living room. The room was coated in gore.

I ran to her and touched her shoulder.

She jumped and raised a hand, throwing a power jolt at me before she realized who I was. Fortunately my reflexes were being fueled by an excess of adrenaline and I managed to dodge the arrow.

She started screaming when she saw it was me and I couldn’t get her to stop. I did the only thing I could think of. I wrapped myself around her and held on tight, willing her to calm down. She fought me for a few minutes and then finally subsided.

The screaming turned to frantic sobs. She clutched at me with all her strength and tried to burrow into me. I murmured nonsense to her but I wasn’t sure she heard me.

After what felt like a really long time the crying started to slow until finally she just shivered against me, hiccupping.

As she relaxed I took inventory of her injuries. She held one arm across her stomach tightly and I could see there was a lot of blood there. One of her legs was obviously broken, the skin shredded over her calf. And her head had been bleeding copiously.

I gently probed with my power to assess the extent of the damage and she jerked upright, trying to pull away. “No, it’s okay, Darma. I’m just seeing how badly you’re hurt. Don’t fight me. It’s okay. I promise.”

She swung at my head with her one good arm and I caught her wrist easily. She was exhausted, both physically and emotionally and badly weakened from blood loss. I knew she wasn’t going to be rational until she was taken care of.

I did the only thing I could think of to do. I pulled my cross out from under my sweater and placed it against my heart. I thought my father’s name and he appeared almost immediately.

His gentle, pale face quickly took in the horror of that room and my sister’s condition.

“She won’t let me help her, Father.“

He nodded, reaching down to take her battered body from me. When Darma saw him she burst into tears again. He hushed her and covered her bloody face with kisses. “Shhh. It’s okay my beautiful girl. I’ll take care of it.”

Before he could blink away with her I grabbed his arm. “I’m coming.”

He nodded and we were immediately locked in time and space.

We landed in Darma’s old room in my father’s house. The room was already filled with celestial attendants.

My father placed Darma in her bed and laid his hands on her shoulders. She started to struggle when he probed her with his power and a young angel beside my father placed her hand across Darma’s eyes. Darma dropped into sleep immediately, her body finally relaxing.

The young angel pulled Darma’s arm away from her torn stomach and I gasped. Something had ripped a huge hole in her stomach. My father focused on this life-threatening wound first and I moved around to grab my sister’s hand while he fought for her life.

Tears ran down my cheeks as I watched my father fight. When he slumped in weariness another angel pulled him aside and took his place.

Two hours later they finally proclaimed her out of danger and I took what felt like the first full breath I’d taken for hours. I helped the angels wash her up and get her into a clean nightgown and then left her in their able hands to go in search of my father.

He sat on the divan in front of a roaring fire in the living area. His head was in his hands. When he looked up at me he looked indescribably weary.