by Claire Kane
Clutching the steering wheel, she hunkered down and decided she was going to reach Nainai no matter what. Punching the accelerator, she mashed her horn as she hurtled toward a group of terrified pedestrians who parted like the Red Sea for Moses. Not bothering to park, she gunned the engine and jumped a curb, barreling over a nicely manicured section of lawn as she plowed toward the first hotel exit she saw, skidding to a sideways stop just in front of a set of double doors left wide open. Leaping from the cab, she dashed inside. She found herself in a kitchen area that had already been abandoned. The place half looked as though it had been bombed. Lacey felt a shiver run down her spine, then grit her teeth. “I’m coming, Nainai. Just hang on!”
Minutes later, Lacey stumbled through the door of her suite. What few functional elevators there had been were clogged with passengers, and none of them were trying to get to the upper floors, leaving her to battle twenty flights of stairs. She sank to her knees, panting like a dog and sweating profusely. Despite the chaos below, the suite still looked nearly pristine, save for some items that had been knocked off shelves, or pictures skewed sideways by the quake. Almost in answer to her thoughts, another small tremor rattled the building for a few seconds.
“Nainai,” she croaked, her throat dry. “Nainai? Are you still here?”
She grew cold at the silence. With a renewed jolt of adrenaline, she sprang to her feet and bolted to Nainai’s room. It was empty. Lacey’s heart did funny things. She could only hope that Unless Mom and Dad had reached her and taken her to safety already. Otherwise, Nainai could be anywhere. She wished she still had her phone with her, but when she’d broken out of jail, grabbing her personal effects hadn’t crossed her mind. Instead, she ran to the hotel phone and snatched the receiver. Instead of a dial tone, she got an automated message telling her that all circuits were busy, and to try again later. That’s when the panic started to set in.
“Lacey?”
Her head snapped up at the voice, her heart hammering inside, then she relaxed as she saw a familiar middle-aged man come through the door. She hurried and threw herself at him, wrapping him in a tight embrace. “Dad! How did you know I was here?”
Butch hugged her back, stroking her head in that same, protective way he had when she was just a little girl. “It’s all right now, sweetheart. Dad’s here. Your gran’ma thought we’d find you back here. Said she reckoned you’d be trying to make sense of this whole mess.”
She held her father at arm’s length, hope blossoming in her chest. “Nainai’s alive?”
Butch nodded and smiled. “Right downstairs with your momma, trying to stay outta the way of that flood of tourists.”
Lacey grabbed her dad’s hand and tugged him toward the door of the suite. “Then why are we still up here?”
*
Zigmund turned an easy smile on the audience. The moment had arrived, and Ross wouldn’t be around to see it. He smiled to think of just how wrong his brother had gotten it—thinking that he, Ross, had been the one with the magic all along. Ross probably knew by now that Zigmund had been working all the tricks himself, all those years, and in such a way that it only looked like Ross had a hand in things. That deception had been one of the best signs of his true mastery. And now, he was minutes away from true, and endless power.
The horror in the people’s eyes, as they’d first begun to witness the manifestation of his plan, had thrilled him. He relished their anguished, helpless cries that went up when he had willed all the exit doors to slam and lock shut. Even now they continued beating at them, hoping for a salvation that would never come. Little did they know that they were part of something much bigger than themselves and their pathetic, mortal lives. Little did they know that they were a gift Zigmund was going to give to someone truly powerful—someone who had promised Zigmund a throne of his own.
“Fräuleins and herrs,” he said, spreading his arms. “The quaking has passed, for now, and the show will continue. Please, do stay. Honor my late brother, Pietr, with me. Perhaps you will yet get to meet him tonight.” That seemed to unsettle the audience even further, and he laughed aloud as the dark spirits washed over the crowd, sowing despair and terror.
“So,” he said, his voice snapping like a whip, instantly catching the attention of everyone in the audience, “let’s take that journey I promised.”
He began chanting a spell he’d spent months memorizing, testing, practicing to the point where he could nearly do it in his sleep. The earth groaned in response, and everyone—both the living and the dead—went silent in dread anticipation of whatever Zigmund was doing.
The earth split open right through the middle of the theater.
Entertainment Tonight’s reporter looked on in horror, before dashing to hide underneath a backstage prop. The cameraman followed suit, dropping to the floor with her, keeping his equipment aimed at the terrified anchorwoman.
She wiped back a mess of hair from her face and said, “Viewers at home, something strange is happening. What started as what was expected to be a simple magic show has turned into something evil. Do not—I repeat do not—buy tickets to this show. If Siskel and Ebert were with us tonight, there’d be four very big thumbs down!”
*
Victor prayed he wasn’t too late as he watched the outdoor theater lurch sideways. Fissures raced across the ground, encircling the whole building. The massive structure rocked and then, to his amazement, began to slowly sink into the ground.
A palpable sense of depression blasted into him like a shockwave coming whose epicenter was the Zigmund and Ross show. Lightning continued to flash from the storm above, and he watched, stunned, as a funnel cloud plummeted out of the middle of the clouds, and directly into where he suspected the audience seating would be. Sure enough, bodies were sucked into the dark clutches of the sky only seconds later, the horror of their last moments pulsating in Victor’s own soul.
Jessica skidded to a halt beside him. She gasped, placing a hand to her breast. Her other hand found Victor’s, and she squeezed it. He returned the gesture instinctively. “They’re dying,” she said, voice trembling. “And their spirits aren’t being allowed to go free. I don’t even know how this is possible.”
Victor reached out with his mind, desperately trying to find Lacey, but his efforts met with an alarming emptiness. Was she dead? Worse, was she one of those in the audience whose souls were being sucked into that void? Would he be with her again? Thoughts of the last time he’d seen her made him choke up, inasmuch as a dead person could. She would go out of this world hating him, and it was his fault.
“No,” he said quietly. “It’s not all my fault.” Jessica squeezed his hand again, and turned a quizzical look his way. “We’re going to end this. I don’t know what Zigmund is doing, and I don’t know what to believe anymore, but I am going to stop this,” he growled, “even if it costs me my soul.”
Jessica shook her head. “No, Victor. I’m not going to let you do something so stupid as that. We are going to stop this together, and save as many souls as we can in the process. We’ll let God mete out justice.”
Victor just growled again, and blinked himself into the theater, ready for a fight.
*
“Come on, Dad,” Lacey called as her father trundled along behind her.
The race down the stairs had winded the old man, but Lacey wouldn’t stop until she knew her mother and grandmother were safe. The ground bucked and heaved again, and the lights flickered. Lacey nearly hit the floor, but managed to catch herself on a pillar. She shot quick glance back at her dad. He was propped up on a slot machine, breathing hard. He waved her on and she darted forward, following the sketchy directions he’d huffed out on their way down. Sure enough, his sense of direction—coupled with the lack of people in casino—had been good enough that in under two minutes, Lacey managed to find both her mother and grandmother standing beside a now-shattered aquarium, her mother’s face taut and pale.
Reeking fish flopped around on the saturated
carpet, but Lacey ignored it all, instead throwing her arms around Nainai. “I am so sorry, Nainai. I’ll never leave you alone again! It’s my fault whatever happened to you! Are you alright? Are you hurt? Are you—”
“I’m fine, baby girl,” Nainai said with an urgent, but gentle smile, “even if I couldn’t talk Mei Hua into helping me find some hot young studs to carry me around this place. After all, an old woman needs that kind of thing when the earth is falling apart around her. Oh, and a relaxing scrub and massage when we’re done. I could use one of those.”
“Now is not the time for joking, Mother,” Mei Hua said, scowling. She reached for Lacey who, in turn, embraced her mother tightly. Mei Hua pushed back Lacey’s hair and eyed her critically for a few seconds. “You look terrible,” she said plainly.
“Thanks, Mom,” Lacey said sourly, “but we have bigger things to worry about at the moment.” Her father came huffing up beside her. “Like, taking the hint and getting out of here like everyone else. Nainai and Mei Hua nodded simultaneously, the younger woman seizing her husband’s hand. Together, they turned for the nearest exit.
A jolt knocked them all off their feet, not ten steps later. The whole casino seemed to roll like ocean waves and a massive roar deafened Lacey. The lights died in a snap, and gaming machines were thrown around like bean bags. Lacey, Nainai and Mei Hua screamed, and even Butch grit his teeth, biting back a yell. A thunderous SNAP split the air, and a cloud of choking dust erupted around Lacey and her family.
When it ended, Lacey opened her eyes, and began clearing away the lighter debris that had fallen on them. To her horrified chagrin, the front of The Illusion had collapsed in on itself, literal tons of concrete and steel standing between Lacey’s group and freedom. She realized she was lucky that any of them had survived.
Behind her, she heard her mother weeping and moaning. She whirled to see her dad gently helping her up out of a pile of rubble. “Butch,” she said through tears,” I think my leg is broken.”
Butch and Lacey sprang into action, clearing a spot for Mei Hua. Lacey whirled to find her grandmother, fearful the old woman may have been smashed outright. To her delight and surprise, the old lady was sitting serenely—almost obliviously— in her wheelchair while a brightly-colored fish flopped on her lap.
“What?” Nainai said, innocently.
Lacey laughed despite herself, thrilled that Nainai hadn’t been hurt, and felt a tear roll down her face. “Let’s find another way out before this whole place comes down on our heads.”
*
The visible, physical storm over the theater was nothing compared to the tornado of evil Victor and Jessica faced the moment they appeared inside. The screams of the living mixed with those of the dead and the never-living. Gouts of green fire erupted at random from the ground, and an abyss had opened in the middle of it all. A deep, ominous laughter rumbled forth from the gaping hole, and Victor stood, transfixed, and people slid into its waiting jaws.
“Victor,” Jessica gasped. “There he is!” She jabbed a finger at a spot above the stage.
Victor felt himself grow cold. Zigmund was hovering twenty feet in the air, laughing maniacally. Fiery wings sprouted from his back, and he was hurling black fireballs seemingly at random. His eyes glowed an unearthly red. Then, without warning he turned and sent a bolt of black fire hurtling directly at Jessica. She dodged, barely, then hurtled toward him, hands glowing dangerously, the same way she’d done with the demons she’d fought. The magician looked almost bored as Jessica closed in. The blond tackled him, only to pass directly through him as she would any other mortal. He barely grinned as he whipped around and blasted her into the ground with a jet of dark flame. Victor heard her scream as she plunged toward The Pit.
“Jessica!” He shot after her, only to run face first into a wall comprised of pure darkness.
“Ah, ah, ah, mein herr,” Zigmund said, descending casually to the stage where he began stroking the ears of one of his tigers. “I have spent too many years setting this up to let one or two angels stop me now. And yes, I can see you, as I’m sure you have figured out.”
Victor tried to teleport past the wall, but found he couldn’t. He felt strange, fuzzy-headed.
“My wonderful Chanel spotted you when your lovely Fräulein Ling first arrived at The Illusion. You know nothing of subtlety. When she saw you again in my suite, checking in on the fräulein, I knew I could use you. Perhaps you saw the ladies there? Yes, Chanel was one of them.”
“Chanel was your pet?” Victor demanded, beating against the dark barrier. “How is that even possible? She’d been cast down to The Pit.”
Zigmund smiled and shoved the dark barrier back, thrusting Victor away. “Your master taught you poorly if he didn’t tell you that very clever mortals, such as myself, can call people back from even that place. Chanel died willingly, knowing that I could summon one soul to serve as my direct connection to my master. She did it because she loved me and wanted to serve me forever. And she made such a lovely little spy, too, don’t you think? She fooled you without so much effort, ja?”
Victor leapt high, trying to skirt around Zigmund’s magical wall. “So her death wasn’t an overdose?”
Zigmund shrugged and conjured a ring of fire around Victor, who curled into a ball, then threw the flames off. “Oh, yes. The drugs were a simple way to free her from the prison of mortality. But I had my magiks ready to call her back the instant she slipped away.”
Victor launched several more attacks, using the best moves Jessica had shown him.
“I know all these tricks you would pull,” Zigmund said, in a thick accent. “My master has taught me very well. In fact, he promised me a throne next to Cain if I would only deliver a few thousand souls to him. And as you can see...” he waved languidly toward the scene of destruction behind him. “My brother never believed in me. And so, I decided he needed to be removed, just as your lady friend has been removed. And I dare say she is a very attractive fräulein indeed. I am sure I could persuade my master to give her to me.” A wicked, knowing smile split his face.
“No!” Victor lunged, only to be rebuffed with a bare wave. He tried again, but Zigmund made a quick, cryptic gesture and Victor was flung across the theater.
“You see how easily I can handle angels?” Zigmund called from across the stadium. “Do you see how much power I have been given? Surely you must know you are nothing more than an amusing diversion to me. Your army of angels, outside, cannot stop me either, especially as they are, shall we say, occupied. But fear not, little bright one. I intend to ensure you suffer greatly for opposing me, before I send you below. Why? Simply because I can.” The sorcerer raised his hands—when had he grown claws?—and pointed directly at Victor.
The agony began.
*
Lacey saw daylight ahead, and, blessedly, at what looked like ground level. “This way! We’ve got to get out of here,” she cried, helping her father haul Nainai’s wheelchair toward it. The casino floor was so littered with rubble that they had to lift the old woman over several spots, before setting her in her chair again. A sign down at the end of their hall pointed left toward an unseen exit. She thanked her ancestors that the path ahead was miraculously mostly clear.
She nearly flew down the hallway, long black hair whipping behind her, bringing back memories of dodging ladies outside of Macy’s. Like back then, Nainai lifted her hands crookedly in the air, squealing in delight. “Faster, baby girl! Faster!”
Mei Hua ran with them, Butch holding her hand as they went, dodging random items that had fallen in the hall. A man in a chef’s hat rounded the corner from the left, and with a yelp dashed out of the wheelchair’s way. “Watch where you’re going!” he shrieked.
“Excuse me!” Lacey said, intent on letting him go. She quickly reconsidered. “Don’t you see what’s going on here?” She barked as she bumbled around him. She turned left, but quickly stopped. Her hopes were dashed: the exit in the near distance was caved in by the earthquake.<
br />
The hall trembled with an ogre-like groan, throwing them to the ground. The concrete and steel around them was threatening to collapse. The chef jumped back to his feet, smashing his hat fast against his dark curls. Terror flashed in his eyes as they bounced around in thought; they finally stilled, evidently seeing a strategic out. “I’m not going to die!” he screamed, running past Lacey, arms flailing, and down the hall to Lacey’s right.
Lacey followed him with her eyes, noticing that somehow, the sign over the buffet still blinked in an effort to lure guests to it. “He must know something we don’t,” Lacey said, hopefully.
“Follow that crazy man!” Nainai ordered, pointing sternly.
They stampeded down the hall toward the chef, racing to the beckoning sign. “Look!” Nainai called out, pointing once again. Everybody screeched to a halt, except for the chef, who’d run deeper into the restaurant. “Saturdays are only five dollars!”
“Mother!” Mei Hua chastised.
“What?” she replied. “That is only five hundred and sixty-five yen!”
Mei Hua said with a huff, “I’m not even going to ask how you can do math that fast in your head, yet can’t remember what you had to eat last night.”
Everybody took off running again, chasing the chef, praying for a true exit. They caught sight of him rounding one of the series of twenty-foot buffet tables when he suddenly stopped in his tracks and whirled around at his pursuers. He spread his arms like a bear about to attack. “Stop! Leave me alone!”
“Where are you going?” Lacey demanded, halting the wheelchair. “We need to get out of here!”
“I know a way out, but I’m not telling any of you!” His nostrils flared, his hands clawing at the air, his chest heaving. “Only employees are allowed access!”
