Mortal Danger (31 page)

“But the Singers—you were holding me for them!” Lily said. “They’re your leaders—”

Not
my
leaders. I took you and held you because I wished to. They wished to believe it was on their behalf. I allowed this until I learned that they planned to kill you without asking my permission. Go now
.

Rule shoved her, hard. She gave in and started down the beach at a trot, but called, “What changed? Why do the demons want my blood?”

You will ask questions of Death itself when it stoops for you! Remain underground until I summon you. It may be many sleeps before it is safe to emerge. The Singers will abandon their pique with me soon enough and cease challenging my possession of you. Xitil is coming. She has eaten god-flesh and is quite mad.

“Oh, no,” Gan whispered. “Oh no, oh no, oh no…”

Mad or not
, Sam’s chill thoughts continued, growing distant as he rose,
she has too much power now to easily defeat. The others will need me
.

Who are you
? Lily thought, stopping at the mouth of the cave in spite of the insistent press of Rule’s body. She knew that once inside, the dragon’s mindspeech would be cut off by the earth.
What are you ? Not a Singer
…

Not one of the little Singers
, he agreed, the mental voice faint.
A Great Singer. Perhaps the last of the Great Singers
…

THIRTY-TWO

The next day dawned cool and misty. Lily was sweating beneath her leather jacket anyway. Maybe it was the pack on her back, or the weight of the M-16 slung over her shoulder. Or maybe she was freaking, funked-out, bone-deep scared.

“They’re taking forever,” Cynna muttered, shifting from foot to foot.

Lily nodded. This was probably when she should say-something heartening, but she was fresh out of heartening.

She wished Grandmother was here. Sharp and strong that wish rose in her, foolish as it was. Grandmother couldn’t have gone with them. She couldn’t have done anything but wait. But still, Lily wished she was here.

They’d assembled their odd crew on a low bluff near the ocean forty miles north of the city. It was private property, part of an estate, but the Rho had somehow arranged for them to be allowed on the grounds. Bribery, probably. It was the closest node to Rule—or where Rule would be, if he’d been on Earth.

Three women and a part-time male stripper held hands in a circle atop the node. Behind each of them stood a tall black candle, unlit. Dead center in the circle was Hannah’s stone altar. It held a silver bowl filled with water.

Lily hadn’t been offered the names of the other two Rhejes. The youngest one, the Etorri Rhej, was a slim, ordinary-looking woman about Lily’s age, with dirty blond hair and pale blue eyes. Cullen stood between her and the Mondoyo Rhej, a tall black woman with sleepy eyes who looked to be on the high side of forty. She’d arrived a scant few hours ago, having flown in from somewhere in northern Africa. Then there was Hannah—old, fat, sightless, and very much in charge.

Maiden, Mother, and Crone
, Lily thought, looking at the three women. Weird. Hannah had said the Lady’s workings often fell out that way, even when, as now, her human agents didn’t plan it so.

The air was still and moist with ocean smells. Lily and Cynna waited on the ocean side of the node beneath a twisted oak, its trunk leaning perpetually away from the absent wind. On the other side of the node were twenty armed lupi, as many trained Nokolai as Benedict could call upon this quickly. If something did manage to get through the gate despite Cullen’s precautions, it would be blasted.

On the other side of the armed lupi, Nettie waited beside a modified SUV that would serve as an ambulance if necessary. With luck, none of them would need Nettie’s services, but Lily wasn’t about to rely on luck.

Only Lily, Cullen, and Cynna were crossing. The gate would be too small, the power too little, to allow more to pass through. And, of course, they had to take a small enough party that there would be room for one more on their return.

Max could have come. He was small enough to ride through the gate piggyback, but when they finally tracked him down he’d cursed a lot, told them they were idiots, and kicked them out of the club. Max didn’t deal well with grief, Cullen said. Lily wasn’t sure if that was supposed to be a joke.

Lily stared at the circle, willing them to hurry. So far, all they’d done was hold hands. All that she could see, anyway.

“ ‘It is easy to go down into hell,’” Cynna murmured. “ ‘Night and day, the gates of dark Death stand wide… ’ Guess old Virgil had that wrong, didn’t he?”

“What?” Lily’s turned to stare at the taller woman. “Virgil? Uh—is that poetry?”

Cynna shrugged the shoulder that didn’t hold the strap of an Ml 6. “I like old poetry.”

For an ex-Dizzy, Cynna knew the oddest things.

“
Mir acculum
,” Hannah said suddenly. “
A dondredis mir requiem
.”

“
A dondredis mir requiem
,” the tall black woman repeated. The other woman and Cullen echoed the phrase in turn, then they joined voices in a quiet chant.

At last something was happening. This first part of the ritual required all four of them—grooming the energy, Cullen called it. The second stage would be up to him, however. That’s when Lily…

“Is that a taxi cab?” Cynna asked incredulously.

It was. The cab bumped up the dirt road that led here from the highway, stopping in a flurry of dust where the ruts stopped on the other side of the armed Nokolai. Unable to see clearly past the men, Lily headed that way. Cynna fell into step beside her.

Cullen and the women continued chanting, oblivious. Just as Lily reached the guards, the back door of the taxi swung open. Four feet of bad-tempered ugly climbed out.

Cynna stopped. “What is
that
?”

“That,” Lily said, feeling her mouth stretch in a wholly unexpected grin, “is what you’ll be carrying through instead of your backpack.”

Max possessed ugliness the way a few rare souls possess beauty, an ugliness that fascinated. His nose stretched toward his mouth like a cartoon witch’s, as if it had melted, then reformed in mid-drip. He had no hair, not much in the way of chin or lips, and skin the color of mushrooms. He was skinny, with knobby joints and arms too long for his body.

Today he wore camouflage and army boots. God only knew where he’d gotten the outfit.

One of the lupi moved to intercept him. Lily gestured at him to let Max through.

Max was muttering under his breath as he stomped up to Lily. “I can’t believe I’m here. I can’t believe I’m this stupid. Well?” he demanded, corning to a stop. “What are you staring at?”

“A very welcome sight,” she said softly. “Max, this is Cynna.”

The tips of his ears turned red. He scowled and looked Cynna up and down. “Nice boobs. Too big, but they’re shaped good.”

Cynna shook her head and loosened the straps on her pack. “I hope you’re worth giving up half our supplies.”

“Lily,” Cullen said.

She looked over Max’s head at him.

He stood alone now, holding a silver athame—a ceremonial knife—in one hand. The three women sat in the grass a few feet away, still chanting softly. The candles were burning.

She took a deep breath and touched the canvas cases hung from her belt that carried extra clips. Show time.

Lily’s part in the ritual was passive. From this point on she wasn’t to speak, not until she crossed. He would tie the gate to her, as he’d suggested—he’d won that argument— but she need only stand there and let him do it.

That, and bleed a bit.

Lily walked over to him and felt nothing—not a trace, not a whisper of magic, though it must be thick in the air. She closed her mind to that loss and held out her left hand.

He murmured something, the words soft and foreign. Then he took her hand in his, palm up, and ran the blade of his athame across the heel of her palm. It burned. Blood welled up quickly, and Cullen murmured more words. Then he turned her hand palm down and shook it, sprinkling the earth with her blood as he called out one word three times.

Vertigo seized her, a twisting, scraping otherness that slid inside, settling in her gut and turning her senses crazy. The world spun, and she staggered. Cullen’s arm came around her waist, steadying her.

Gradually the world steadied, but the sense of otherness remained. She felt as if some bizarre geometry had been planted in her middle and was busily making itself at home.

She straightened and gave Cullen a nod.

He stepped back. Using the tip of his bloody knife, he began tracing the doorway that would surround the altar. Light followed the athame like the afterglow from a sparkler as he slit the fabric between the realms, and when he finished the air shimmered. It was like looking through heat waves.

Lily put a hand on her stomach. The shimmer somehow matched the shifting geometry in her gut. It wasn’t painful, but it wasn’t pleasant, either. She looked over her shoulder.

At her glance, Cynna bent her knees and Max climbed aboard. She’d have to duck to get through, but they’d fit. Cullen tucked his athame in his belt and slipped on the harness that held the rocket launcher, a huge tube almost as tall as he was. He picked up his machine gun and took his place at the rear.

They’d go through single-file. Lily gave them all a nod, unslung her M-16, and walked toward the shimmering air. Four paces, duck as she stepped over the alter—and into hell.

Where a battle already raged.

* * *

A small fire smoldered in the center of the rocky chamber Rule had led them to. It was a Swiss-cheese sort of a space, the walls holed in several places, with fissures in the ceiling. Some of the smoke from the fire escaped through those overhead cracks, but the fire still made the room smoky without providing much light.

Better than no light at all, though. Lily hugged her knees. Thank goodness Gan had been able to bring a load of firewood. She was small enough that she hadn’t had to crawl the way Lily had in the worst of the passages. Things could be worse.

Who was she kidding? She hated this. Hated it. But not as much as Rule did.

How had he done it? How had he made himself keep coming back to these tunnels, over and over, hunting a way out? She’d known it took a toll on him, but she hadn’t understood, not really. Not until she followed him into a darkness so heavy it had seemed to press the air from her lungs.

She had no idea how long it had taken them to reach this chamber, where the air was good and the ceiling was higher than her outstretched hands. Probably not the hours it had seemed. They’d trended more up than down, though. Were they anywhere near the top of the cliff where the dragons gathered to sing?

Gan spoke suddenly, her voice high and scratchy. “Xitil’s called Earth-Mover, you know.”

“Does that mean what it sounds like?”

Gan nodded miserably. “She could bring it all down on us. It’d be easy for her.”

“Good thing she wants me alive, then.”

“But she’s nuts,” Gan whispered.

Rule lifted his head and snarled.

“I’m pretty sure that means ‘shut up,’” Lily said. “Besides, didn’t you say dragons damped magic or sucked it up or something?”

“Demon magic, yeah, but Xitil’s got goddess stuff in her now! Who knows what that could do? She might be able to—”

“Shut up, Gan.”

The demon swallowed and, for a wonder, fell silent.

Rule laid his head on his paws again, and Lily went back to passing the time the only way she could, by playing her memory game. Where was she?

Oh, yeah. Water beds. That had sprung to mind earlier, when she’d been sitting by the ocean. Before things went all to hell.

Waterbeds sounded wonderful. Imagine a bed filled with water… how soft would that be? You had to pump the water in… Pumps, yes, she remembered pumps. Though the one she saw in her mind’s eye wasn’t for water, but for air. For filling up bicycle tires.

Had she ridden a bicycle? She felt a touch of excitement. It made sense that she’d remember the kind of pump she knew best, didn’t it? She couldn’t picture a pump for a waterbed at all. Maybe she’d never had a waterbed, but she had owned a bicycle.

What kind of bicycle? There were racers and…

Rule’s head shot up. He almost quivered with sudden tension.

“What is it?” she whispered.

He got to his feet and paced a few steps, looking at the rock overhead, making a whining sound. He looked at her and then at the rocky ceiling. Then he shook his head hard, as if trying to clear it, and whined softly.

“What is it? Gan, what does he mean?”

“Nothing.” Gan looked disgusted. “He’s not making any sense.”

“Rule?” Scared for more than one reason now, she went to kneel beside him. “Are you all right?”

He whined again, louder and longer, and then looked at the demon.

“He wants you to tell me!” she cried. “Try. Try hard.”

Gan rolled her eyes. “It’s nonsense. Something about you being out there and in here, too.”

Rule yipped. Then he took her wrist between his teeth gently and tugged as he took a step away.

He wanted her to come with him. She drew a shaky breath and stood. “All right. Are you coming, Gan?”

Rule immediately trotted into one of the black, black holes. That one was a little roomier than some, at least. Though it probably wouldn’t stay that way.

“Follow that idiot? He’s lost it. You’d better stay here.”

She just shook her head and, heart pounding, followed Rule into the darkness.

THEY wouldn’t have survived their first five minutes in hell if the terrain where they came out had matched Earth’s. They’d left a flat, low bluff. They came out into low, craggy mountains. Mountains where creatures were busy killing each other, while overhead, legend battled with nightmare.

“I’m running low on ammo,” Cynna called. “I have to reload.”

“I’ve got you covered,” Lily said. She was hunkered down behind a rocky outcrop. They had no cover overhead, but the aerial battle was a mile behind them now. Just as well. Not only was it dangerous, it was distracting. She’d never thought dragons existed, and to see them flying, fighting… she’d remember that always. And have nightmares about what they fought.

If she lived long enough to dream, that is.

Their progress had been halted in this rough pass between two low peaks.
Trapped
might be the word to describe their situation.

Crossing itself had been easy. The shimmer in the air had sort of shimmered through her as she stepped through the gate. Then she’d been elsewhere… a dark, nighttime elsewhere, with four man-sized demons standing fifteen feet away, staring at her in obvious shock.

That’s what had saved her. That, and the training Benedict had insisted on. Two of the demons had recovered from their surprise fast enough to jump at her even as she swung her weapon at them.

She could testify that bullets did, indeed, work on demons. Especially when sprayed by a semi-automatic rifle. She’d gotten those two. Cynna, coming through right after her, had killed the other two.

After wiping out the small patrol or skirmishers or whatever the hell the first demons had been, they’d been able to advance steadily. Gradually the eerie, blank sky had grown lighter, until now it was about as bright as a stormy day. The visibility had still been lousy, though, when they first reached the pass. Cullen’s nose had saved them.

There were more demons holding the pass than there had been in the first group. A lot more. A few were man-shaped, but most were four-legged, built like giant economy-size hyenas, but with small arms growing out of their chests. They had jaws that put Rule’s to shame, teeth in rows like a shark’s, and glowing red eyes.