The Infernal Games

by Reed Logan Westgate

  “Should we kill him now or just beat him until his cries summon the other two?” Xlina asked without a hint of emotion in her voice.

  “Kill me?” Pete stammered, raising both hands innocently. His varied bracelets and rings jingled as he waved in feigned surrender. “Why would you kill me? I have some much needed information after all. Isn’t there some way to clean the slate here, guys?”

  “What’s the word on the street, Peter?” Oxivius demanded roughly. “Who’s taking Puc’s place?”

  “Sure, I don’t mean to anger you,” Pete replied carefully. “But Puc’s not going anywhere.”

  “Bullshit,” Xlina countered roughly. “This guy doesn’t know shit, Ox. Puc’s a smoldering corpse in Pandora’s basement.”

  “Pardon the misses,” Pete stammered. “But he is very much alive and licking his wounds.”

  “That’s not possible,” Xlina quipped. “Amber and Brick immolated him. I saw it myself.”

  “It’s a trick,” Pete explained defensively.

  “How!” Xlina demanded.

  “Did you happen to take your eyes off of the fae?” Pete asked meekly.

  “Yes, of course,” Oxivius growled. “When I locked my glare on her, Xlina. I wasn’t looking.”

  “Neither was I,” Xlina huffed. “Until he came out from behind his gaudy throne.”

  “Pardon me, folks,” Pete interjected. “But it seems you have some unfinished business, and if I may be so bold, when you slay a fae renowned through legend for trickery and deceit, don’t take your eyes off him.”

  “Fucking hell, love,” Oxivius blurted in disgust. “It was a bloody illusion. Amber blasted a bloody illusion, and we fell for it.”

  “Shit,” Xlina cursed. “What next?”

  “The Burnished Rose is calling for the Council of Magic,” Pete continued as if her question was aimed at him.

  “Wonderful,” Oxivius glowered in response.

  “What’s a council of magic?” Xlina asked, not understanding the reference but clearly understanding Oxivius’ tone.

  “It’s a meeting of the thirteen most powerful covens in the area,” Pete continued, his hands still up defensively. “It’s rare, but when a coven has been wronged, it’s called to air open grievances.”

  “What could those bastards have for a grievance?” Xlina asked. “Other than their goons failing miserably.”

  “I wouldn’t know,” Pete stammered, drawing a suspicious look from Oxivius.

  “Sure you know,” Oxivius stated flatly, moving around the table and approaching Pete. “You just don’t want to say.”

  “I can’t say,” Pete whimpered, closing his eyes and bracing for the worst.

  “Peter,” Oxivius stated firmly, leaning in close. “I am tired, I am hungry, and if you don’t play straight with me, I am going to take one of those paring knives and carve me a steak.”

  “I’m a vegetarian,” Pete protested, wincing.

  “Grass fed,” Oxivius chortled, looking casually to Xlina. “Organic, the expensive stuff.”

  “They are lodging a complaint on Heart’s Hearth,” Pete stammered, spitting the words out quickly. “The Burnished Rose is going to present to the Council that Burglecut knowingly harbors a demon-marked Baku. That the Baku has repeatedly assaulted the Rose and dwindled so many of the members that their very position on the Council is now in jeopardy. They will petition for the owners to be exiled to the Otherworld.”

  Xlina gasped, fearing for Burglecut and Penny, who had been nothing but helpful to her. It was her worst fear: that those around her would suffer for her actions. Oxivius cursed under his breath and seemed to be running a thousand scenarios through his head.

  “How do we stop it?” Xlina demanded.

  “You can’t,” Pete replied. “You have no voice on the Council. The Burnished Rose’s claims will go unchallenged.”

  “They are the ones working with the bloody warlock,” Oxivius countered furiously. “They have been working hand in hand with Puc and Ertigan! Bloody council of plebeians can’t see the wolf in sheep’s clothing.”

  “That may be true,” Pete stammered. “But with no proof and no member of the Council willing to air your case, I am afraid this will be an open and shut summary judgement. The Council members will fear you. They will question what is to stop the demon-marked Baku and death eater from turning on them next. Out of fear the wrath of the thirteen covens will descend on you.”

  “We have proof,” Oxivius answered stoically. “We need a voice.”

  “We have proof?” Xlina asked, genuinely surprised.

  “The twins, love,” Oxivius replied with a wink. “While you were busy settling in with your guest, we had a pair of survivors from the Rose’s death squad. Turns out, they don’t like taking orders from Morticae.”

  “We have proof,” Xlina echoed triumphantly.

  “Morticae,” Pete gasped, lowering his hands, a look of shock etched on his face. “Morticae is exiled. He hasn’t been seen in these parts for—”

  “If by exiled you mean pulling Puc’s strings, then yeah,” Xlina quipped sarcastically. “But now he’s good and exiled to hell. I put him there myself. That was no illusion.”

  “I hope for all our sakes’ the grave was deep,” Pete replied with a stern look on his face. “What you claim is true then. The real threat is the demon Ertigan, working behind the scenes.”

  “Indeed,” Oxivius nodded. “Which is why you are going to help us. It’s why you’re not going to say a blasted peep about seeing us, even to your brothers.”

  “I can’t help you,” Pete replied. “I don’t have a voice on the Council.”

  “You know who does,” Oxivius replied coldly. “Who among them will speak for us? There must be someone.”

  “Puc in league with the demons doesn’t change the fact that she is marked,” Pete replied matter-of-factly. “No one is going to throw in with her.”

  “She’s no warlock, Pete,” Oxivius countered angrily. “She’s just a girl who was tricked. She doesn’t even want the bloody mark.”

  “That doesn’t matter,” Pete replied, looking back at Xlina. “The perversion will win. Slowly, you’ll come around and be converted. It’s only a matter of time until you’re lapping at your master for scraps and heeling like a dog.”

  His words hit like hammers in her chest, and her rage boiled over. She was tired of being called weak, she was tired of people assuming she would lose herself to the demon, and worst of all, she was tired of them being right. She closed around the table in a blur of movement and slapped Pete in the face so forcefully that his gold tooth shot out and bounced off the walk. He staggered back, eyes wide at the raw power behind her strike. The gem on her neck flared to life, sending warm, comforting tingles through her body. She could recognize Oxivius was saying something, but his voice was so distant it was barely a murmur in her thoughts.

  She stepped into her swing, following Pete’s retreat and thrusting her knee forward. With his hands raised defensively at his face, his gut was an easy unguarded target. The brother was no fighter, and her knee sunk into his doughy abdomen. His lungs exhaled, his breath knocked from his body by her powerful blow. But Xlina was not finished. She grabbed at his fingers, sweeping them up and firmly rotating his hand until his wrist was face up and extended as far as it could bend under her crushing grasp. His elbow locked firmly under her leveraged position. Pete lifted on his toes to relieve the pressure on his wrist and elbow. Her free hand shot up, cupping the bottom of his elbow in a powerful strike that snapped his arm in the wrong direction. His joint shattered, and he let out a wail of agony.

  “Xlina, dammit, we’re in public,” Oxivius hissed, grabbing her shoulder and attempting to pull her free from the wounded man. Her bloodlust would not be sated, and she whipped her hand, holding the fingers down toward the ground in such a vicious motion that the bones pulled free from the broken elbow joint in a sickening crack. Pete fell to his knees whimpering, and she stepped in once mo
re to affix her hands on his forehead and jaw. She lowered her head to his ear so that her lips were close enough for him to hear her slightest whisper.

  “Toy with me anymore, and I’ll snap your neck like kindling, Pete,” Xlina hissed, her voice filled with venom. “The covens want me dead, the demons want me dead; you think I give two shits if anyone sees me murder you in the park? Maybe they’ll give me a nice comfy cell where I will finally be left alone. So tell me, who is most likely to listen to me and stop jerking me around?”

  Pete whimpered in her hands, and Oxivius, completely bewildered at the sudden ruthless aggression, turned away, scanning to see just how much of a crowd the determined Xlina was drawing. She could sense his discomfort, but she was so close to the truth.

  “Lexxes,” he whimpered as another tooth fell from his mouth. “Lexxes Stillwater. She’s a shaman. She’ll hear you out.”

  “Why is that?” Xlina whispered hoarsely, applying pressure with her hands and turning his head until she could feel the strain of the muscles in his neck under her grasp.

  “She is Asibikaashi,” he stammered.

  “What is that?” Xlina asked firmly.

  “A dreamcatcher,” he pleaded, and stunned, Xlina released him.

  “Where can we find her?” Oxivius hissed impatiently, grabbing Xlina by the arm.

  “On the reservation,” he whined, grabbing at his crippled arm with his free hand and whimpering. “She lives on the reservation.”

  “It’s time for us to go,” Oxivius scolded, holding Xlina firmly by the elbow and dragging her away from Pete.

  “It worked,” Xlina mused with a shrug.

  “We’ll be lucky to get out of here with only half the Portland Police chasing us.” Oxivius continued his scolding and looked around anxiously as bystanders kept their distance. Many had cell phones up and recording. Many more pointed at the downed vegetable vendor, and a few turned and walked away, pretending to see nothing.

  Oxivius began a chant, and Xlina could smell the familiar odor of burning souls. As his chant grew, so too did the Mist come rolling in through the park, blanketing everything. Oxivius continued building his energy to a crescendo before unleashing a final trigger word. Inky black smoke rose in tendrils all over the park, writhing and squirming.

  “What did you do?” Xlina asked, turning her nose up at the smell of burning souls.

  “The spell will cover our escape, sowing confusion,” he explained sourly. “The mystery of the Mist is how it seems to blur the unawakened mind. Hopefully, in our case, enough for us to get away with the savage beating you just laid on Peter in the park.”

  “His name is Pete,” Xlina exhaled in frustration.

  “It’s not worth remembering,” Oxivius spat back, his voice laced with irritation as he led the way back to the Hearth.

  Chapter Twenty

  The Hermit Of Turtle Island

  Xlina huffed a sigh of boredom as she looked out the rental car window at the passing trees. Amber was driving, Brick in tow, which was obvious from the strand of red hair hanging on the left side of her face. The car was a 2006 Chevy Malibu with cheap rental fees, but it had seen better days. The interior was drab, a sullen gray that had been washed too many times and matched the scuffed up, faded silver exterior. Amber had volunteered to drive Xlina out to the reservation to find this Lexxes Stillwater character and hopefully gain a precious ally in clearing the Burglecuts’ good name. It was still autumn in Maine, and the season’s weather fluctuated wildly from freezing cold pre-winter arctic currents one day to gorgeous fall temperatures the next. This particular day had been closer to the former, with the temperature dipping into the teens as they left the Heart’s Hearth in the early morning hours.

  The night had been quiet. After returning from Holder’s Park, Oxivius had returned to his leather-bound book, researching whatever he was working on. He had seemed perturbed at her directness, but her methods had worked, and Pete had sung like a canary. At worst, he was just preoccupied with whatever he was researching, but it seemed there was a growing rift between them. Amber on the other hand seemed excited to have some lead to follow. Though the news of the impending Council of Magic was disturbing, they at least had a chance. If they could convince this Stillwater person to hear their tale, the Burnished Rose’s claims would be challenged. There would be an investigation. Most importantly, it would buy them the time they needed to deal with the fae bastard Puc, who had faked his death, and his demon master pulling the strings, Ertigan.

  Amber and Xlina had shared a meal, and for a pleasant moment, the world of monsters and witches had faded into the background as the girls chatted about makeup and beauty tips. Xlina had never shown interest in such things before, but Amber certainly seemed to bubble over with glee at the opportunity to gush over her latest acquisitions, and Valeria seemed content in the choker to listen, not interrupting once. Word of the events at the Hearth must have hit the streets, because for the first time since they had moved in, there had been no dinner rush. Not a single customer had showed all night. Burglecut had cooked apple pies and placed them out to cool, and the smell of baked cinnamon had filled the Hearth. It had been a pleasant evening, if quiet. Penny and Burglecut had bantered about whether apple pie was better with a soft or flakey crust.

  She had said her goodnights and headed to her room with more than a little trepidation. She wasn’t sure what to expect from Valeria, but the choker had remained cool and quiet while she changed into her nightwear. At last, she had removed the choker and laid it on the overturned milk crate that served as her nightstand, settling into a long awaited slumber. Her dreams had come like a tidal wave, and she had finally been free to devour with the demon’s essence tucked safely away in the magical gem beside her. The cornucopia of nightmares had been enhanced by the ley lines’ natural magic, and the Baku in her had fed deeply on the nightmares lingering in the population nearby. She had awoken in a puddle of sweat, but fully healed and rejuvenated. Even the scratch from the snake witch had faded away under the restorative power of the dream energy. She had been surprised that Valeria had allowed her to remove the choker all night. In doing so, she had allowed Xlina to feed freely on the dreams of the city, regaining her strength.

  When she had awoken, she had reached over to the overturned milk crate and grabbed for her choker. It had grown warm in her touch, and she had smiled as she fastened it back into place, ready to start the day. The Hearth had been quiet as she descended from the loft to meet Amber in the foyer. Amber had dressed for the cold weather, wearing a puffy pink coat with white jeans and faux fur-lined boots. She looked the part of the snow bunny ready for Maine’s famous ski slopes. A single table showed signs of late night discussions as three mugs still remained. She could only guess that Oxivius, Penny, and Burglecut had chatted long into the night, as the Hearth was otherwise quiet. Brick had come bounding out of the Hearth, doing an excited dance before Amber until she agreed to let him come along. So it was, the three had set out to find the Wabanaki Reservation and their only hope for saving Heart’s Hearth. Amber had relished the opportunity to leave the greater Portland area. The pair had started the long drive up the coast in the early morning hours, and by noon they had listened to every CD Amber had grabbed for the trip. In the age of cellphones, it felt old fashioned to rely on the archaic CD player in the beat-up Chevy, but the further inland they turned, the worse the cell signals became in Maine’s heavily forested rural reaches.

  They had made small talk at first, but after nearly five hours in the stuffy car, they had both seemed to fade into the boredom of it all. Xlina had discarded her heavy winter jacket to the backseat of the car and snuggled in a blue University of Maine sweater, watching an endless line of pine trees pass by. It was nearly two in the afternoon when Amber squealed, snapping Xlina from her haze and back to the road ahead of them. The ragged pavement was worse for wear in spots, turning almost to dirt as they rolled into a heavily wooded area off the main drag. The road veered to the right
down what looked to be the most legit scary dirt road through the woods she had ever seen.

  “We’re almost there,” Amber said excitedly. “I sure hope it was worth the drive.”

  “It has to be, Amber,” Xlina said optimistically. “I can’t imagine letting Penny and Burglecut down after they have done so much for us. I don’t want to be responsible for the Hearth being taken away from them.”

  “Yeah,” Amber sighed. “Maybe it would be better if we moved out? I mean, it’s been nice at the Hearth. I love it there, but it’s not worth the Burglecuts getting in trouble.”

  “Well, we are not going to let that happen,” Xlina replied firmly. “Pete was in no position to lie about Lexxes.”

  “Um... about that,” Amber ventured tentatively. “Ox seemed pretty wound up about that.”

  “Like he’s one to talk,” Xlina sneered derisively. “He interrogates people by eating them. Pete may have a snapped arm, but he’ll live to tell about it.”

  “I think that’s what he is afraid of,” Amber continued, pressing the issue. “It’s not like we need more enemies right now.”

  “It’s not like the Brothers were our allies to begin with,” Xlina quipped in frustration. “Why does it feel like you guys are nit-picking everything I am doing?”

  “Everyone’s just worried about you, Xlina,” Amber huffed in defense. “With you-know-who in there.”

  “Well you-know-who has been just fine recently,” Xlina quipped aggressively. “It wasn’t exactly my idea to put her in here to begin with if you remember.”

  “I remember,” Amber retorted sternly. “And so does Oxivius. Do you not see how much this is bothering him? Can you not see his guilt?”

  “I see his disapproval,” Xlina stated flatly. “But Pete had everything he got coming to him and more. I don’t feel bad about that.”

  “I’m not trying to make you feel bad,” Amber replied softly. “I am trying to be your friend.”

  “You are my friend, Amber,” Xlina responded, her voice growing softer as she considered how new she was to having people this close to her. “I don’t mean to push you two away, Amber.”