Necessary Evil

by Donald Hanley

  “Are you kidding me?” I yelled at Lilixandriel. “She wasn’t enough to kill us ten times over, you had to bring him too?” She wasn’t listening to me, though. She was backing away from the eyes, fear imprinted on her face. “Oh, crap, he’s not supposed to be here, is he?”

  Everyone except Nyx was following Lilixandriel’s example, trying to get as far away from Metraxion as possible, even if they didn’t realize who and what he was. Some of the witches hid behind the cars while others huddled together under protective shields. Daraxandriel grabbed my arm, looking like she was about to wet herself.

  “Flee, Peter Simon Collins!” she begged me desperately. “Metraxion is the Bane of the Broken Plane, he shall not hesitate to crush us into the dust.”

  “Metraxion?” Singh gasped. “Didn’t he disappear centuries ago?” Prescott just shook his head grimly.

  “Melissa,” Susie called, “you should probably hurry up and kill Peter. You’re going to need the Stone for this.”

  “Be quiet, Susie!” Dad told her, placing himself in front of her and gripping his pistol in both hands. “Peter, all of you, get out of here!” I didn’t know what good he thought a handgun was going to do against one of the most powerful demon lords in Hell but I felt a ridiculous surge of pride in him even as I shook my head.

  “Don’t worry, Dad,” I told him. “We got this.” I was lying, of course. We were so screwed it wasn’t funny. Our only hope was for someone to actually go ahead and kill me so that Melissa could bond with the Philosopher’s Stone but Amy seemed to be the only person who actually wanted me dead at the moment.

  Instead, Daraxandriel stood by my side and raised her sword, even though her whole body was trembling. Susie moved around to Dad’s other side and Mrs. Kendricks and Stacy lined up beside her. Prescott and Singh flanked them and Olivia, still in ghost form, huddled close to Daraxandriel.

  One by one, the other witches crept closer, forming another line behind us. Lilixandriel was trapped between us and Nyx while Melissa stood off to the side, looking lost, and Amy balled her fists up in rage.

  “What are you doing here, Metraxion?” she shouted. “You’re ruining everything!”

  “Silence, child.” Metraxion’s voice rumbled like thunder and Amy backed up uneasily, her face turning even whiter than its normal pale hue, as the eyes started to shift towards the center of the shadow wall. No, the wall itself was shrinking, collapsing into a much smaller shape in the center of the bridge. A moment later, the eyes winked out and the shadows condensed into a human silhouette.

  The shape acquired color and volume as it walked forward, becoming a man dressed in a black business suit with a dark red shirt and a black tie. His hair was black as well and his face and hands were ruddy brown. If it weren’t for his stark attire and the additional pair of eyes where his eyebrows should have been, you wouldn’t have given him a second glance on the street.

  Metraxion stopped beside Nyx and looked us over, each pair of eyes moving in different directions. It was even creepier than his normal appearance. “Thou art unharmed, Nyx?” he asked. His voice still seemed to come from everywhere.

  Nyx didn’t deign to respond to that. “This one is dangerous,” she said, nodding in Melissa’s direction. “She needs must be destroyed.”

  My heart jumped into my throat but Metraxion just nodded thoughtfully. All of his eyes fell on Lilixandriel. “Thou hast conspired against our Dread Lord, Lilixandriel,” he said.

  “Nay, my lord Metraxion!” Lilixandriel pointed a shaky finger at Nyx. “She did seek to claim our Dread Lord’s soulstone for her own! I lured her to the mortal plane, that these witches might slay her for her betrayal!”

  “Liar, liar, pants on fire,” Susie muttered.

  “And what of Orixnador?” Metraxion asked. “What of Uxbranidorn and Sadraximbril and Bellaxragor?”

  “All of them!” Lilixandriel insisted desperately. “All of them strove to overthrow our Dread Lord!”

  “Thou most faithless spawn,” Nyx said, every word dripping with contempt. “E’er hast thou striven to advance thyself without heed to the consequence. Our Dread Lord overlooked thy transgressions for the souls thou delivered unto Him but the cost of thine ambition has now exceeded thy worth.”

  Lilixandriel drew in her breath in horror. “Thou hadst no intent to turn against Him. Thou didst come here to entrap me.”

  “Lilixandriel,” Metraxion told her solemnly, “thou art forsworn and thy life is forfeit.”

  “Nay!” A shadowed gate appeared beside her and she bolted for it. Just as she stepped into it, though, Metraxion lifted his hand and the shadows closed in around her, collapsing into themselves before fading out. Lilixandriel’s scream hung in the air for a long time.

  “And now thee.” Metraxion turned his attention to Amy, who retreated to put Melissa between her and the demon lord. “Thy presence here is unexpected and unwanted. How didst thou escape thine imprisonment?”

  “Susie did it!” Amy jabbed her finger in our direction and Metraxion’s upper eyes shifted over to inspect Susie speculatively. Susie, for her part, looked bored and ready to go home.

  “Nonetheless, thou didst incite this witch to slay her lover and take the soulstone, that she might challenge Nyx, thine own mother. Whyfor?”

  “Why?” Amy’s voice had a hysterical edge to it. “Why? Because she abandoned me! Because she stuck me in a jewel and forgot about me! Because she should have just killed me instead of locking me away forever!”

  “An that is thy wish.” The Crooked Staff’s stone began to glow again and Amy ducked down behind Melissa with a yelp. A fiery white portal appeared under Melissa’s feet and a moment later she appeared in front of me. I pulled her close as Amy looked around desperately for an escape route.

  “Nyx,” Metraxion cautioned her. “Our Dread Lord would seek retribution for her demise.” The succubus pursed her lips irritably but the glow faded away. “Yet I cannot force her back within the soulstone, for it is bound to this boy.”

  Metraxion turned all four eyes on me and my blood froze in my veins. Melissa pushed herself away from me and raised her fist with the Philosopher’s Stone still clutched in her fingers.

  “Leave him alone!” she warned him and she burst into black flames again.

  “Nay, stay thy hand, witch,” Metraxion told her calmly. “Peter Simon Collins shall keep his life and his soulstone, in repayment of my debt to him.”

  In the sudden, shocked silence that followed his statement, everyone’s necks creaked as they turned their heads to stare at me. “What is he talking about, Peter?” Prescott asked uneasily. “Why does a demon lord owe you a debt?”

  I cleared my throat awkwardly. “It’s a bit of a long story,” I hedged.

  “Yet the bond between Amaryx and thy soulstone persists,” Metraxion went on, “weakened but unbroken. We cannot return her to our Dread Lord, unless thou dost accompany us.”

  “No!” Mrs. Kendricks, Daraxandriel, Susie, and Melissa all closed ranks around me. The domed shield that sprang up around us swirled with white and silver and black and thrummed with power.

  The barest hint of a smile touched Metraxion’s lips. “Then thou needs must become her guardian, Peter Simon Collins, for she cannot remain free of restraint.” Amy blinked at him and then her gaze slid over to me. She smiled slowly with a thoughtful glint in her eyes.

  “What?” I protested in alarm. “No! She nearly got us all killed! Take her, kill her, do something with her! I don’t want her!”

  “Thou hast taken our Dread Lord’s soulstone and made it thine, Peter Simon Collins,” he told me solemnly. “Didst thou truly believe we would leave a soulstone unbound without reason, where any might come upon it?” Daraxandriel stirred nervously at my side, keeping her gaze averted from him. “Amaryx is thy responsibility now, an thou wish it or no.”

  “But I don’t know what to do with her! I don’t even know what she is! If Nyx is her mother, why isn’t she a succubus?” I at least had
some experience with those.

  Metraxion’s lower eyes cast a questioning glance at Nyx, but she seemed to have tuned the rest of us out again, like someone forced to wait for her ride before leaving a tedious party. “She was spawned of Nyx, yet she is our Dread Lord’s creation.”

  “But she is a demon, right?” I asked doubtfully. Nothing about Amy looked unusual, except maybe her pointy canines. “I need to know what I’m dealing with if you want me to keep her here,” I pressed when Metraxion didn’t respond.

  He studied me for a long while. “Art thou aware of the battle that is to come between our Dread Lord and His Adversary?”

  “Who?” Metraxion gestured to the starry sky over our heads. “You mean God? The war between Heaven and Hell?”

  “Our Dread Lord seeks to reclaim His rightful place, yet His victory is not yet assured. The legions of demons and angels will be well-matched upon the battlefield, yet His Adversary holds an advantage that needs must be overcome ere the trumpets sound.”

  “Metraxion,” Nyx warned him. “Do not reveal our Dread Lord’s intent unto these ... creatures.”

  “It matters not,” Metraxion assured her with a dismissive flick of his wrist. “The knowledge shall not avail them, for they cannot impede His progress.” Nyx shook her head, clearly unconvinced, but she remained silent.

  “So what advantage does the, uh, Adversary have?” I asked. I couldn’t see what any of this had to do with Amy.

  “He can create souls. The divine spark He reclaims upon each host’s demise adds to His glory and His power. Our Dread Lord cannot challenge Him until They stand as equals afore each other.”

  “So the Dread Lord is trying to make souls?” I asked doubtfully. “And Amy’s one of them?”

  “Amaryx was the first of His creations to thrive, yet she lacks the true spark of divinity.” Amy scowled resentfully at him but didn’t dispute his statement. “Despite this, our Dread Lord saw fit to let her live, yet she proved too fractious and disruptive. Nyx and I shut her away within the soulstone to restore the peace of His court.”

  “You never told Him what you did!” Amy shouted. “You hid me away and forgot about me! All of you did!” She glared at Nyx, who ignored her.

  “And you want me to keep a leash on her?” I asked incredulously. “I can’t control her, she just pops in and out whenever she wants!” Amy crossed her arms and favored me with a smug smile.

  “I cannot bind her completely,” Metraxion said regretfully, “for the blood of our Dread Lord flows through her veins, but I can chain her power.” He raised his hand and Amy’s smile vanished as shadows rose up around her.

  “What are you doing?” She tried to dodge out of the way but her feet were welded in place. The dark tendrils crawled up her legs and across her torso. “Stop! I’m His daughter, you’re not allowed to hurt me!” She tried to snap her fingers but the darkness wrapped itself around her arms and covered her face as she struggled to free herself. “Stop!”

  For a moment, Amy was completely enshrouded, and then the shadows crawled into her body and vanished. She fell to her knees, staring at her hands in horror. “What did you do?” she wailed. “I’m human! I can’t do anything!”

  “She seeks to deceive thee, Peter Simon Collins,” Metraxion told me, sounding amused. “She still retains a remnant of her power.”

  “Shut up, you stupid demon!” Amy jumped to her feet, shaking her fists at him furiously. “You’re supposed to be on my side, not theirs!”

  “Oh my God,” I breathed. “What did I do to deserve this?” I didn’t mean for Metraxion to hear me but he smiled.

  “Thou dost consort with witches and demons, Peter Simon Collins. How canst thou expect elsewise?”

  “Metraxion,” Nyx said coldly, “let us quit this place. Our Dread Lord will wonder at our long absence from His side.”

  The demon lord inclined his head in acknowledgement. “I would give thee a final warning ere we depart,” he told me gravely.

  “What?” I asked uneasily.

  “Word of thy soulstone has spread across the Burning Lands. Lilixandriel shall trouble thee no more, yet others may come seeking to wrest the stone from thee.”

  “Oh, come on!” I complained with a groan. “Haven’t we been through enough already? Can’t you tell them to leave us alone?”

  “Whyfor should I?” His smile didn’t touch any of his eyes this time. “My debt to thee is discharged and we are enemies anew, Peter Simon Collins. We shall meet again in the days to come.” He nodded to Nyx and they both dissolved into smoke, sinking down through the ground and leaving behind a faint odor of brimstone.

  Our piebald shield flickered out and Melissa wrapped her arms around me tightly, burying her face against my chest. “I’m so sorry, Peter,” she whispered. “I almost killed you again.”

  “But you didn’t,” I reminded her.

  She shook her head stubbornly. “But I wanted to. I wanted to kill you and Nyx and everyone else. I wanted to go killing until someone killed me.”

  “That was Amy,” I told her firmly, “not you. Speaking of which.” I looked around but the Spawn of Darkness was nowhere to be seen. “Where did she go?”

  “There she is!” someone called.

  I followed the pointing fingers and spotted Amy sneaking away along the side of the road, almost invisible in her black outfit. She yelped when she realized we were on to her and tried to make a run for it, but she vanished in a flash of white fire and reappeared right in front of me. I caught her arm before she could bolt again and she yanked herself free with a frustrated hmph, glaring at me resentfully but staying put.

  Dad pulled Susie and me into a brief but fierce hug before releasing us and casting a harried look at everyone gathered around us. “Can anybody explain to me what just happened?” he asked plaintively.

  “Holograms,” Susie insisted, “and a freak earthquake.”

  “Really,” he said dryly. “And Melissa flying?” He eyed Melissa doubtfully, as if he half-expected her to take off again.

  “One of those wire things they use in movies,” Susie said, despite the fact that Melissa was very clearly not wearing a harness.

  “I see. And that white pentagon thing that just happened?” He waved his hand at Amy.

  “More holograms.”

  “I think your father deserves to know the truth, Susie,” Mrs. Kendricks sighed. “All of it.”

  “No!” she protested. “He’s not going to believe us anyway.”

  “I’m guessing it has something to do with that,” Dad said, nodding to the wand in Prescott’s hand. The FBI agent looked down at it ruefully.

  “I’ll tell you everything, Chief,” he said, “the whole truth this time. Let’s get everyone out of here first, though.” Now that the immediate crisis was over, the other witches were huddled up in groups of two and three, looking tired and worried and embarrassed in their pajamas and nighties.

  “And do something about this,” Dad agreed, eyeing the shattered bridge. “The next person to cross over is going to have an unpleasant surprise.”

  “Allow me.” Mrs. Kendricks frowned in concentration and drew a complex pattern in the air. A row of orange traffic cones popped up like mushrooms across the roadway and safety barriers appeared in each lane, flashing their orange lights. Stacy stepped forward and repeated the spell, and lights blinked at the far end of the bridge as well. “It’s just a glamour,” Mrs. Kendricks explained, “but it should do until you get the crews out here.”

  Dad raked his fingers through his hair and let his breath out in a whoosh. “Well, that’s certainly ... something,” he said unsteadily.

  “Holograms,” Susie muttered.

  Melissa finally released me and stepped back, wiping at her eyes with a tremulous smile. They were normal again, if hollow and bloodshot. “I guess this is yours,” she said quietly, opening her hand to show the Philosopher’s Stone nestled in her palm. She shook out its chain and looped it over my head, pressing the Stone aga
inst my heart. It gleamed brightly, as if it was glad to be back.

  “Thanks,” I told her. “Oh, you’re hurt!” Long, ragged scratches marred her hands and forearms and her knees were bloodied.

  “It’s nothing,” she shook her head. “I’ve had worse.”

  “Don’t be stupid.” I pulled up my spells, relieved to see that they were functioning again, and cast Restore on her. Her wounds closed up and vanished, leaving only dirt and dried blood behind, and Dad’s jaw fell open.

  “And how do you explain that, Susie?” he asked bemusedly.

  Susie glared at me, as if I somehow betrayed her. “Magic,” she admitted sullenly.

  25

  Stage magicians rely on misdirection and sleight of hand to perform their tricks. They make you look over there while they palm that card over here, or they show you a supposedly empty hat that actually hides a rabbit in a secret compartment. Their setup and their movements and their patter are all carefully designed to create the perfect illusion in your mind. Even when you know it’s all fake and you’re watching for the trick, even if they demonstrate the mechanics to you, you still can’t figure out how they did it.

  Ironically, actual magic is far less impressive. If you can wave your wand and say “Abracadabra” to change your lovely assistant into a potted plant, that’s great and all, but it’s hardly amazing. It’s just something you can do, like multiplying numbers in your head or whistling. Accomplishing the same feat with just a box, a mirror, and some carefully timed lighting effects takes real talent and an incredible amount of practice.

  I guess that’s why it’s just as well that everyone can’t do real magic. Not only is the risk of abuse alarmingly high, it would just reduce magic to the level of driving a car. Pretty much everyone can do it, they all think they’re good at it even if they’re not, and no one thinks twice about it. Magic should never be boring.

  “Metraxion is right.” Special Agent Fay Morgan was an attractive blonde of indeterminant age, somewhere between twenty-five and fifty-five depending on how the light struck her. She stood at the back of the police station’s only conference room, facing Dad along the length of the table. There were only ten chairs so I had to stand as well. “More demons will come. A soulstone is too great a prize to ignore, especially when it’s bound to –” she paused to choose her words. “– an inexperienced witch.”