by Alicia Wolfe
The Razor Wings and the mirror vanished around the side of a building—but not before the witch woman shouted one last spell. I wasn’t close enough to hear what it was, but I heard her voice. Then I glanced out the window and down.
“Shit,” I said.
“What is it?” Davril said. He was mashing the gas and twisting the wheel, but Lady Kay was trapped fast. The net was simply too heavy. Its weighted ends pulled us toward the ground like the boots of doom.
“Spikes,” I said past the lump in my throat.
Staring down again, I saw them—gleaming iron spikes jutting from the ground below, each ten feet high and capable of rending Lady Kay’s innards—and us along with them.
Fury glittered in Davril’s eyes. Savagely, he hacked at the net with his sword. Sparks flew, and I gasped. When the flame faded, I saw with disappointment that the net was still there. He struck again, but the links held fast.
The spikes rushed at us from below.
Closer every second.
I swallowed down my fear. “Don’t worry,” I said. “I’ve got this.”
My fingers ducked into a few pouches, then twined around a handful of links. “Ra-sagata’necktash!” I shouted, feeling power course through me. “Ra-satha!”
The links glowed with green light.
“Whatever you’re doing, it’s working,” Davril said through gritted teeth.
I concentrated harder. The spikes glittered dangerously below.
“RA-SATHA!” I screamed.
The links glowed brighter, then burned away in a cloud of ash. Davril let out a whoop of victory and shot the car forward. Lady Kay’s wings stroked the air gracefully and powerfully, but also with a touch of desperation. My stomach tumbled and I held on tight, one hand on the dash and one on the door handle. When I glanced over the side, the spikes were receding. I let out the biggest breath of my life.
“You saved us,” I said.
“Ha,” he said, then rewarded me with a lusty smile. It made me remember the kisses we’d shared all too recently. “You’re the one who saved us.”
My cheeks burned. “Aw, shucks.”
Davril’s men on their mounts came around us, shouting questions. Instead of answering, Davril asked, “Where’s the enemy?”
“Gone, my lord,” one said.
Davril swore in Fae-ish. “Let’s get higher. Maybe we can spot them.”
He brought Lady Kay above the top of the skyscrapers, and his men followed. I tried not to look down. The air tasted thinner, and the wind blew colder than I cared for. It didn’t seem to bother Davril, though. His men scoured the skies for sign of our quarry, but to no avail.
“Nothing, my lord,” the last one said thirty minutes later.
Davril let out a breath. To me, he said, “We must tell the Queen.”
Chapter 19
“They went in the direction of Central Park,” Queen Calista said.
Davril nodded. “So it appears, my lady.”
We were in the solar in the top of one of Queen Calista’s majestic white towers, discussing the situation. There was me, Davril, the Queen, several advisors, and Federico, whose face floated in the air on one side of the room—a sort of magical Skype.
“This is unacceptable,” Grand Vizier Greenleaf said.
“I agree,” said General Lyass Waters, an attractive and fit woman with long black hair that glimmered like shadows. She carried twin swords on her back, and she wore green armor that looked fitted for a model on the cover of a fantasy Blu-ray. She was awesome. I instantly loved her. “We cannot let Mistress Angela get her hands on the mirror,” she added.
“Whatever she wants it for,” I muttered.
A few eyes turned toward me. Federico shook his head, as if encouraging me not to draw attention to myself. Probably not a bad idea. Some of this was likely my fault, after all. At least they might see it like that.
Davril, by contrast, was no longer looking at me in distaste or shame. He was looking on me with warmth. I tried not to return his glances, but it was difficult. This is so not the time, Jade.
“Why is this human woman here?” said one of the other advisors. “Her rank is not sufficient to be privy to our councils.”
“Her rank is unique,” Queen Calista said, and the man who’d spoken opened his mouth to object, then closed it. Satisfied, Calista said, “She was present during the attack, and during much of this whole ordeal. Her insight might prove useful.” Pointedly, she added, “She is welcome here.”
“Very well,” the man allowed. Then, to me: “Just what do you have to offer?”
They stared at me. I cleared my throat and tried not to look at my feet.
“Well…”
“Yes?” said another adviser, a woman in a purple cloak, white outfit and gold boots. She looked like a superhero.
“Well,” I started again, “I guess we should find out what the mirror is for? I mean, what she wants to use it for. If you send more knights after her, I’m afraid they’ll die like the others. A large force would be a threat to the Park. If it were me, I’d only do that as a last resort. So you need to find out what the mirror does first. If it is a last resort.”
I could see them thinking it over.
“Well said,” Queen Calista told me.
“Is she right?” General Waters said. “Could the mirror not be worth going after?”
“It’s not a matter of whether it’s worth going after, my lady,” Davril said.
“No?” said the Grand Vizier.
“No. It’s a matter of whether it’s worth throwing away the lives of me and my fellows.”
“True,” said General Waters. “But it must be, surely. Otherwise this Mistress Angela wouldn’t have gone after it so furiously. Remember, this is the ultimate fruit of her attacking this very palace. She’d intended for it to result in Her Majesty’s death or overthrow, but her Plan B was this—that is, to kidnap Federico to bring about this result.”
“All salient points,” Queen Calista said. Doubt shone in her beautiful blue eyes. I felt it, too, that uncertainty. Just what could we do?
“I may have an out,” Federico said.
Surprised, we all turned to him.
“What do you mean?” Davril said.
The imp blew a plume of cigar smoke upward. “Well, it just so happens I know something about this mirror—about the ancient demonic spells placed on it.”
Queen Calista stepped toward his image, hope on her face. “Well? Do you know what Angela wants it for, or of some method to defeat it?”
“Wish I did, Queenie. Sadly, nope. But I know enough about it to ask those who might know.”
Fear flowed along my limbs. “Who’s that?”
Federico attempted a grin, but beneath it I saw apprehension. “Higher-level demons, babe. And I happen to know just where they hang out.”
“That’s it?” I said, wrinkling my brow.
Federico stuck out his chest and pulled on his lapels. He wore a 1920’s-style suit, blue, complete with cane. Its silver head was carved into the likeness of a bat. Otherwise, Federico looked just like himself, a small red demon with stubby horns and batwings that stuck through the back of the suit through specially carved slits. As usual, he smoked a cigar, and as he flapped in the air his wingbeats stirred the cloud of smoke. Even though we were on the streets of New York, no one passing us noticed. Federico’s magic, I knew.
Davril, who was on the imp’s other side, glanced at me behind Federico’s back. He appeared just as nonplussed as I felt. “I’m not sure if this is wise,” he told the demon.
Federico shrugged. “You gotta better plan?”
Apparently Davril didn’t. Neither did I. We were in a seedy quarter of the city, and the neon sign of the hell-bar blazed through the foggy gloom ahead: IKE’S. Dark figures came and went from it, only some of them human-shaped. The night pressed coldly all around, and a few flakes of snow settled on the ground. They didn’t melt. I shivered in a sudden breeze and wished some of t
he other knights or other Fae had gone with us. It was just the three of us, alone.
This wasn’t something an army would be helpful with. And it might even be counter to the purpose.
Besides, all we had to do was get the answers out of some demons none of us had ever met. Federico had heard of them, but he’d be unlikely to encounter anyone here he’d known before his service to the Queen began.
“This is the real demon bar,” I said. “Not that sideshow funhouse club Ruby and I met the prince at.”
“You hung with Prince Jereth at a nightclub?” Federico said. “I thought you had better taste, angel.”
“I thought so, too.”
We approached the bar, snow settling on my hair. This snow melted. I wrinkled my nose at the stench of sulfur as we neared the doors.
“Be prepared for anything,” Davril said.
I steeled my spine. We pushed through the doors and into the heat of the interior. Heavy metal played on a jukebox, and female demons wearing very few clothes danced in a scratched wooden stage. Cigarette and cigar smoke (and maybe a few other kinds, too) swirled along the ceiling. Some of the trails of smoke curling up from whatever had made them glowed or crackled with energy. Clawed hands gripped the cigarettes or pipes or hookahs as others clutched cards or pool cues. The demons themselves, some hulking and sinister, some petite and almost beautiful, lounged along the bar or in booths or hunched over pool tables.
“Huh,” I said. “It’s just a bar.”
“What’d you think?” Federico scoffed. “A river of fire?”
“Something like that.”
Federico laughed harshly. If a crow could laugh, it would sound like that. The imp was enjoying being out on the town. His eyes darted all about, and he wore a huge grin. He was wondering if anyone here would recognize the master of today’s epic work of mischief, no doubt.
If so, he was disappointed. The denizens of the bar carried on business as usual. A few of the hell spawn glanced our way, then went back to what they’d been doing.
A couple of demons with blue skin and praying-mantis arms walked by, and Federico said, as if responding to something they’d asked, “Oh, yeah, that’s right. It was me. I’m the one who released the zoo on downtown! Wasn’t that a laugh?”
The blue demons only shuffled past. Federico kind of slumped.
“Let’s move this along, shall we?” Davril said. “We don’t yet know Angela’s itinerary.”
“What’s that mean?” I said.
“It means whatever she’s hatching, it could hatch at any moment.”
I grimaced. “Right. There’s that.” To Federico, I said, “Let’s hurry this along.”
“Alright, alright. You two take all the fun out of things, you know that? You need to loosen up. How about a drink?”
“A what?” Davril said, but Federico was already sidling up to the bar.
“Three drinks,” he told the barkeep, a huge fellow with slimy yellow wings and sores on his equally yellow face.
“What kind?”
Federico said a word in Demonic, and the barkeep grinned and poured from the tap. Strong scents hit me, but I couldn’t place them. Still grinning, the barkeep thrust the drinks before us and named a dollar figure. Davril rolled his eyes and handed the amount over.
“We are not drinking,” he told Federico.
“Heh heh,” the imp said and took a long pull. He gestured to the empty seat beside him. “Well, toots?”
I paused.
“Do not sit,” Davril said.
The world could wait a minute. It wasn’t every day I got to drink in a demon bar, after all. And I was curious what a demon drink tasted like. I sat and took a long sip. Immediately I wanted to barf. Demon beer tasted like piss.
“Wait, this isn’t piss, is it?” I said as I prepared to take another sip.
Federico laughed. “Naw.” He drank, too, to show me it wasn’t.
I followed his example.
Wearing a sour face, Davril perched on the other side of Federico. “This is not a good idea,” he said.
“Oh, take a sip,” I said.
“One of us must stay sober.”
“More for me, then.”
I downed another sip, then had to repress a burp. “This is to build cover,” I told Davril.
“Gotta establish credibility,” Federico agreed, but he was already stumbling over his words and it came out credibilly.
Davril shook his head. “You two should be the partners.”
“Not a bad idea!” Federico said. “What’d you say, toots?”
I took another sip. This shit was intense.
“Great idea,” I said. “Only we need our own flying car. It’s hard to go back to a regular car when you’ve been in a flying one.”
To Davril, I said, “I still haven’t forgotten about that flying motorcycle, you know.”
He glanced at a nonexistent watch. “I know.” He studied us, both wobbly on our seats. “Is your cover established now? Can we start asking the questions we came here to get answered?”
Federico wiped foam off his upper lip. “Let’s have at it, then.”
Listing from side to side, he flapped toward a corner booth inhabited by, what else, huge demons with oil-black skin and great big curving bull horns. They were drinking smoking beer from iron mugs and playing a game involving multi-sided dice and live rodents … or what at first looked like rodents. On closer inspection they looked like some sort of alien larvae with rat-like tails and white skin. The larvae seemed to be the stakes, since they were in the middle of the table.
One huge demon laughed as his dice landed, then he raked in his winnings—an armload of squealing, writhing rat-larvae.
“I haven’t had enough to drink,” I said. A second later this idea was put to the test. The big laughing demon grabbed one of the vermin and ate it raw right there in front of us. At least the motion shut up his horrid laughing. Unfortunately, it also made my belly twist and squirm, just like his haul of larvae was doing. I came too close to grabbing my knees and puking on the hardwood floor.
The demons turned to regard us as we approached.
A shorter but somehow scarier-looking fellow swiveled his yellow eyes to Federico, then to me and Davril, and he grunted. He said something in Hellish, and his two companions guffawed.
Federico frowned. “Talk English, guys. My pals here don’t understand that tongue.”
“There’s a reason I never studied the demonic languages,” Davril said.
“Want I should repeat what I just said?” said the scary demon.
Federico appeared to be sweating. “Uh, naw. That’s okay.”
“What’d he say?” I whispered.
“Never mind,” Federico said. He cleared his throat. “Anyway, guys, mind if I borrow a minute of your time?”
“Want a skrim?” said the big demon, the one who was still chewing his larvae—or skrim, if that’s what they were called.
If anything, Federico began to sweat more. Of course, I could hardly blame him. Just the thought of eating one of those bug-things made my stomach start to twist again. Bile jumped into the back of my throat.
“Er, later,” Federico said. “Just want a minute of your time.”
The third demon, who’d remained silent till now, leaned forward. He grinned horribly at Federico, slaver running down his brown, cracked fangs. “You’re the runt who caused all that chaos at Times Square?”
Federico’s chest swelled. “That’s me.”
“All right, then, we can talk.”
Federico flashed Davril and me a smile as if to say, See? It was all worth it.
“I’m not sure this was a good idea,” Davril said.
Federico waved his cigar hand impatiently. “Lighten up, Davs. These are good blokes. Right, blokes?”
“‘Good’,” said the scary demon—well, the second demon, I guess. They were all pretty scary, really. I’ll call this one Shortstuff, even though he was way bigger than Federico. “
That’s not precisely the word I would use.”
The other two chuckled in low voices. I shifted my feet, uncomfortable. These assholes were starting to creep me out.
“We just have a coupla questions for you,” Federico said. Hiking a thumb at Davril, he said, “We’re payin’, too.”
“This is not an authorized expenditure,” Davril said.
The big demon ate another larvae, then burped loudly.
“I vote we pay them and get the hell out of here,” I said.
Davril sighed and nodded.
Federico named a dollar figure, then said, “For information on a certain mirror, get me. Enchanted with demonic energies. I recognized a Level Clawthorn imprint on it, and I can see that’s where you fine gentlemen are from. Now what do you say?”
The three looked at each other. They shrugged. The scary one turned back to us, then named a higher dollar amount.
“That’s too—” Davril started.
“Done,” said Federico, shooting him a sharp look.
The demons grinned. “What sort of spells exactly?” said the one with the brown teeth.
“A Type Bloodstone Hex,” Federico said. “With a Deathgem binding.”
The scary demon’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s a hell of spell. To use a phrase.”
“Well?” I said. “What’s it for?”
The demons traded glances again, but this time not in greed.
“Give us the money upfront,” said the big one.
Federico gestured to Davril, who sighed and reached into his enchanted bag. We’d come prepared to bribe hellspawn out of their information, so he already had plenty of gold on him, and it was well protected in that bag. Only his willing hand could dip into it and come back out with gold. Any other would become trapped. Damn it.
He laid the gold down on the table. Demons from other tables were starting to look over. I noticed some truly nightmarish fellows begin to take an interest in us from the far side of the room. Shit, I thought. We need to finish this fast.
When the three fine fellows we’d been talking with were satisfied, Shortstuff said, “That’s a very powerful spell, imp. Stronger than most could lay. Very few could lay such a spell.”
