Random Acts of Sorcery (27 page)

The servant who came to fetch Sam looked like he’d seen better days. A giant brute of a man, wearing nothing but a few strips of dirty fabric around his crotch, his eyes were blackened and the skin around his mouth was burned. Roughly, he undid Sam’s chains and slapped him into some other kind of restraint; a set of hand manacles that connected to a collar around his neck.

This is hexed so that I can’t do magic. Not that I would bother to try; I saw how effective that was when I fought my father.

As the silent servant prodded him forward, he thought about the panicked noise his father had made when Sam had managed to shatter his barrier, and smiled despite his situation.

I may not be able to hurt him, but I did surprise him. He can’t take that away from me.

Sam didn’t know how long they walked; the hallway had that strange habit, as some areas in Realm did, of warping when you weren’t paying attention. He found himself strangely bored; even terror didn’t make monotony less monotonous.

“So what were you, up there? A stockbroker? A CEO?” Sam asked his companion. The man didn’t respond, but he paused in his gait long enough that Sam thought he was on target.

“Let’s see. You must have been a rich, powerful man, because there’d be no need to humiliate you like this if you’d ever known humiliation in life. You probably had millions of dollars, a boat and a mistress, but it wasn’t enough. You wanted more. So you made a deal with a demon, thinking you were smart enough to think of a way out before it was time to pay what you’d promised.”

The servant yanked on Sam’s chains, and he nearly tripped.

“So tell me; was it worth it?”

Other than a tiny shake of his shoulders, the man didn’t respond. Sam hadn’t really expected him to.

If my father is to be believed, at one time, all of the
se demons were creatures of mercy, who took no joy in human pain and suffering. How did it ever come to this? And how can he say that whatever’s broken in me doesn’t come from him?

Finally, a giant oak door appeared before them. The servant opened the door and pushed Sam through, then closed it with a slam. Unbalanced, Sam fell to his knees with a grimace.

He was in a massive meeting room, filled with stately fireplaces and mantles stuffed with priceless trinkets. Directly before him was a long table, filled with men (or what looked like men) in all combinations of odd clothing. A half dozen pairs of red eyes turned his way.

“I say we just kill him,” said a demon that Sam didn’t recognize. “Sammael, hear me out.”

“Did I give any indication of stopping you?” said his father, leaning back in his chair in a casual posture. He was still wearing a black suit, a perfect copy of the one Sam had worn to court.

The demon continued. “We have two problems: one, this half-b
reed is capable of Sorcery. Two, his offspring will be capable of even greater Sorcery, feats we don’t want to even contemplate. Get rid of him, and both problems disappear.”

Sorcery?
What are they talking about?

Whenever he’d heard the term used before, it was used interchangeably with “magic”; but the Lords were talking like it was something different indeed.

“There’s no need for that,” said another demon that Sam recognized as Asmodeus. “Killing him smacks of fear, and I don’t fear children. Simply take his magic away, and render him sterile; both problems solved, with no loss of life.”

Sammael chuckled like that. “If you don’t fear him, you should try fighting with him. It’s not fun to have your form crushed,
then have to weave a new one out of nothing. Hurts like a bastard.”

Sam’s eyes widened at that.

Asmodeus glowered at his father. “So what are you suggesting? That we kill your own son after all?”

“No,” said Sammael, putting his feet up on the marble table.
“Merely pointing out that you can’t have it both ways. You can’t drag my son in here on the premise that he’s too dangerous to be left alone, then still pretend he’s beneath your notice.” He smiled. “My little boy has graduated.”

“Yes, thanks to that Paradox Maiden of yours. For the last time, what in blazes is she? She can’t be just a human,” said another demon from the far end of the table.

Sammael’s smile turned into a cheeky grin. “The fact that you can say ‘just a human’ is proof that you wouldn’t understand even if I explained it to you.”

“We’re getting sidetracked,” said Asmodeus, looking mildly irritated. “The fact is, in the past six months, we’ve seen more Sorcery on Earth than w
e have in the last 2,000 years—”

“2,000? More like 5
,000,” Sammael interjected. Asmodeus rolled his eyes towards heaven.

“In any case, at this rate, Sorcery could transform the human world so thoroughly that we won’t even recognize it in 50 years’ time. Now, what do we do about it?”

The Lords continued to discuss possible ways of neutralizing Sam and his bloodline, with castrating him (both magically and otherwise) ranking high on the list of preferred solutions. Sam managed to twist himself into a slightly more comfortable position, then realized that his head felt clearer than it had in the prison cell. He was closer to the human world here, on some level; while his senses were still dulled compared to what they would be normally, he found he could vaguely discern shapes of human emotion, like seeing the outlines of familiar furniture in a pitch-dark room.

He felt a jolt of fear, deep in his stomach, and realized it had come from Cassie. She was afraid, and her fear was strong enough to reach him even here.

Why is she afraid? What could be happening up there now?

“Father,” he said, cutting through the latest conversation on how precisely to mutilate his body.
“Listen; she’s afraid.”

His father turned to him with a vaguely disgusted expression, while the other demons just looked scandalized that he had the nerve to speak.
“So what? If I jumped every time that girl was afraid, I’d be bouncing up and down all day long. She can scream and cry all she wants, I don’t care.”

“She’s your familiar too,” Sam said through gritted teeth. “She’s useful. You don’t want anything to happen to her.”

“How conscientious of you to remind me of what I want,” said Sammael in an acid tone, but something in his face gave Sam hope. He didn’t know if Sammael had sensed Cassie’s fear for himself, or what he had said had hit home, but he felt like his father was not nearly as disinterested in Cassie’s plight as he let on.

“Look at how arrogant he is,” a gravelly-voiced demon groused. “We’re discussing his sentence, and he thinks he has time to worry about his stupid witch.”

“How can I not be arrogant? All you’ve been talking about is how terrified you all are of what I’ll do,” said Sam. He knew antagonizing them was dumb, but something in him refused to be cowed.

His father shot him a dark look.

I’m doing my best here. Don’t make things harder by being a snotty brat.

Sam’s eyes widened at the sound of his father’s voice in his head.

You’re trying to help me? This is news to me.

Sammael turned away from him.

Look, I’ve sent some help for our accident-prone little familiar, so the least you can do is keep your immense mouth shut.

The “our” rankled, but Sam looked down at the floor at that, satisfied. If Sammael had sent some kind of help for Cassie, he would do as his father asked.
For now.

The swimming complex/night club was every bit as crowded as Cassie had hoped. Still, she felt vulnerable standing on the patio; every party goer who passed behind her nearly made her jump out of her skin. After a few moments of terror, she shrugged and jumped into the nearest pool; it probably wasn’t any safer, but being in the water felt right.

As she swam under the surface, she couldn’t help but marvel at her surroundings. The swimming pool had ornate carvings on the bottom, and the scalloped edges of the artwork picked up traces of the club lights from above, making the underwater area feel like the inside of a giant disco ball. She was surprised how clearly she could hear the music from above,
then realized that the sound was being piped in underwater.

They are playing ‘
80s power rock at the bottom of the pool. I can’t decide if that’s awesome, or stupid.

She weaved around a few undulating swimmers, then came up for air. At the deep end of the huge pool, there was a decorative island filled with cacti and flowers. She swam to the far side of it, hoping it would block Arrigio’s view of her if he did come looking for her here.

She was just starting to relax, thinking that she’d found the best place to hide out that she was probably going to, when the water on her skin seemed to turn to ice. She looked around and saw the other swimmers frozen in mid-dance, and felt a faint stirring of hope.

Sam? Did they let him go?

But she realized her error soon enough. She heard slow footsteps, and realized that Arrigio was walking on the patio, slowly but surely getting closer to her location. He was wiping his forehead with a handkerchief as he walked.

“Stop this. Running is only making it harder for
yourself,” he called. “Come out where I can see you.”

Cassie pressed herself against the island, biting her lip. She knew she couldn’t hide from him for long, but there was no way she was just going to walk out and let him kill her.

After a few moments, he sighed. “You know, these people are mostly parasites; drinking and gambling and fornicating while the poor starve. I have no moral qualms about getting rid of a few of them,” he called, looking from side to side.

Cassie tried to calm her breathing, with little success. As a last resort, she could try to summon Sammael, but he couldn’t be trusted to take her side; he’d as much as told her so himself.

But what else can I do? I’m out of options.

Arrigio
moved forward again, stepping around a woman wearing a very tiny bikini. Suddenly his entire body tensed, and Cassie realized he was reacting to something she couldn’t hear.

“You move at all, I will put a hole through you the size of
a volleyball,” said Helen. “I may not be ranked above a two as far as Universal Casting Standards go, but I never leave the house without my charmed bullets; ask anyone.”

Arrigio grimaced. “It’s a surprise to see you defending anyone, Ms. Andrews—considering you delivered your own son to the Lords of Hell.”

Cassie poked her head out further from behind the island, and saw that Helen was standing about 20 feet behind Arrigio, pointing a gun at his heart. “I only delivered him to his father,” she said, her tone light and casual. “My husband will take care of the rest.”

Arrigio let out a hoarse laugh at that, though he was careful not to move; clearly, he didn’t think Helen was bluffing about shooting him. “And you believe he’s safe?”

“Not your business, is it?” said Helen. She motioned with her free hand. “Cassie, come over here.”

Relief making her body feel
light, Cassie swam to the edge of the pool and pulled herself out. As she made her way towards Helen, she was careful to keep frozen bodies between herself and Arrigio, still not trusting him not to curse her. From what he had said, she thought it was possible he might risk it, even knowing that Helen would surely kill him the moment he sent off a curse.

“Just what do you plan to do? Keep me here at gunpoint indefinitely?” he asked in a mocking tone.

Helen smiled at that. “You’re not my son; how long can you bend time to your will, even in a small area like this? I’m betting your spell will fail long before my arms get tired. And once you’re surrounded by hundreds of witnesses, you won’t dare use magic.”

Arrigio grimaced again at that. Cassie passed him, giving him a wide berth,
then she could no longer see his expression.

She paused just a few feet from Helen, puzzled. She had water in her ears from swimming, dulling her hearing, but she was sure she could hear something strange.

“Do you hear that?” she asked Helen, who raised an eyebrow.

It was the sound of tiny nails clattering on a tiled floor. As Cassie watched, the little rat came closer and closer, until it finally exploded into flesh at the edge of the pool and became John Golding. He collapsed to his knees, panting.

“A changeling?” Arrigio hissed with obvious surprise.

Cassie stared.
He can change at will now? How did that happen?

“Listen,” he said, stil
l struggling for air. “I heard—”

“Wrap a towel around your waist or something, I’m a married woman,” said Helen.

John ignored her. “I overheard some men talking. They must be the Seraph’s. Talking about…setting a bomb. I think they want to blow up The Laguna, with all of the demons inside it.”

“That can’t be,” Arrigio whispered. “
There’s redundant magical safeguards.”

John seemed to recover his breath. “Perhaps the witch who made your magical safeguards in the first place is tired of being taken for granted,” he said with derision. “I know the feeling.”

“You’re lying,” said Arrigio, sounding panicked. “You’re just trying to distract me so I—”

“Oh, get over
yourself,” said Helen, finally lowering her gun. “Obviously, we have bigger problems now than your vendetta against a little girl who doesn’t even exist yet.”

John struggled to his feet. “Do you think I WANT to be here?” he snarled at Arrigio. “I have no choice! I can’t leave until everyone is safe. Look into my mind if you don’t believe.”

As Cassie watched, all the defiance seemed to go out of Arrigio, like he was deflating. “I believe you,” he said quietly. “What do we do now? We can’t let them succeed.”

“Are you a simpleton? Go in and kill them all, then dispose of their bomb, of course,” said Helen. “Unfortunately, I’m a little too fragile to be helpful in that endeavor. But I’m not alone.” She took a deep breath,
then yelled.

“BENNET!
Get over here!”

To Cassie’s surprise, Bennet sprinted towards Helen within a few moments. “Ma’am!” he said.

Helen turned to him, still keeping her gun handy; she could point it at Arrigio in an instant. “Boy, there’s a bomb in the hotel. Be a dear and kill the terrorists and dispose of it, would you? The Chairman will help you.”

“I’ll help him?” said Arrigio with surprise, but Helen wasn’t paying attention to him.

“You, naked man, change back into a rat and run back towards the basement. If they want to take out the whole building, they’ll set the bomb low. Find them, overhear their plans, and then be sure to think whatever you learn very, very loudly. Bennet will be listening for you.”

John looked like he was about to object, then looked at Helen’s face and changed his mind. In an instant, he was a rat, scampering back towards the hotel with astonishing speed.

“How do we evacuate the building?” Cassie asked Helen. “We can’t just leave everybody in there.”

“You and I will handle that,” Helen said, finally tucking her gun into her waistband. “Boys, get going. There’s no time to waste. If you run into any demons you can trust, take them with you; otherwise, just go after the terrorists. No time to gather allies.”

Arrigio sighed, like he couldn’t believe he was listening to her, then waved his wrist, and the nightclub pulsed back to life around them. Bennet fixed his eyes on Cassie’s, and she realized what he needed; she held out her hand, which he took gently. An invisible barrier flickered to life around both himself and Arrigio, and then he released her.

“Be safe, okay?” he whispered to her. Then the two demons headed back towards The Laguna as quickly as they could through the thick crowd, while Helen grabbed Cassie’s hand and broke into a run.

“It would be better if he could keep time frozen while they look for the terrorists, but the poor fool’s probably overtaxed himself already,” she said as she ran. Cassie was mesmerized by how steadily Helen could run in three-inch heels. “I hope he’s strong enough not to get killed immediately. Bennet, at least, is battle-fresh.”

She had pulled Cassie out the front of the hotel, and soon they were on the Strip itself. Cassie’s bare feet were pounding on the pavement, sending shocks reverberating around her entire body as she and Helen weaved through countless people, but through the pain, she felt exhilarated too.

Can I be like her someday? I need to get myself a gun, ASAP. I think there’s a shooting range somewhere in Sodatown….

“My son, of course, could handle this without a sweat, but God forbid he ever be available to do specifically what I created him for. Demons are stupid, but I shouldn’t have to tell you, of all people.”

By a large fountain, which sent huge jets of water thirty feet in the air, Helen came to a sudden stop, nearly tripping Cassie. She grabbed a cell phone out of a man’s hand, and he began to shout in protest.

“Oh blow it out your ear, it’s an emergency,” said Helen, moving aside her blazer so the man could see the butt of the gun tucked into her skirt. The man suddenly decided he had somewhere else to be, and Helen began dialing the phone.

“Hello, is this The Laguna? Yes? I’d like to call in a bomb threat,” she said, then there was a pause. “No, I didn’t see the bomb, I planted it myself. I’m displeased about the situation in the Middle East, you see,” she said, then frowned. “What do you mean ‘what situation?’ Do you read? In any case, if you don’t want thousands of people turned to ash, you’d better start evacuating now. I’ll call back with my demands once I decide what country I want nuked.” At that, she hung up and tossed the phone into the fountain.

“The benefit of living in a terrorism-obsessed country; they’ll evacuate, no matter how flakey the threat,” Helen explained,
then grabbed Cassie’s hand again. “Come on; there are many fine hotels here that aren’t in imminent danger of exploding. We should wait in one of them.”