by R. L. King
Stone glanced over his shoulder, back toward the door. Where had his summoned spirit gone? It was supposed to be helping him in the attack. He hadn’t felt the binding sever—it would have been obvious, even in the midst of all the magic he was throwing around. If the binding was still intact, the spirit shouldn’t have been able to disobey his orders, and it certainly shouldn’t have been able to run away. So where was it?
“Looking for your little friend?” Archie asked. “Maybe he got smart and took off, just like you should have done. I guess you’re not very good at holding on to friends. Not like I am. Boys?”
He raised both hands above his head like a preacher, or a conductor. The lights came up on either side of the chapel, and the illusions fell away from the scattered, broken pews to reveal the walls lined with other demons dressed in school uniforms, each one with the same leering, knowing smile on its face.
Behind Stone, the double doors slammed shut.
So magic was out. That left the sword.
No problem.
With a roar, he called up a levitation spell and threw himself at Archie, both hands on the sword-hilt and pointing the blade straight at the demon’s chest.
Archie made a gesture, plucking him out of the air and flinging him backward. He landed hard and slid, hitting the closed doors.
As he leaped back to his feet, the sword clattered to the floor in front of him and dissolved into dust.
Archie laughed. “You should pick your friends more carefully, you know. You’re far too trusting.”
“Ain’t that the truth?” said a voice behind Stone. His missing demon escort sauntered past him and took his place next to Archie. “You shoulda seen him, boss. He really thought that stupid sword was gonna work. He thought he had me bound the whole time. It’s just really too bad he didn’t know he was using the wrong name in his ritual and we were playin’ along the whole time, ain’t it?”
“Yes, too bad,” Archie agreed. “Bad mistake to make. Sloppy. And look where it’s got him now.”
The other demon made a mock sad face. “I’d say he’s pretty well fucked.”
Chapter Fifty-Five
Stone took a fast look over his shoulder again. The rest of the demons had closed ranks behind him, and they now formed a grinning ring, yelling and jeering like a bunch of schoolboys getting ready to watch the class bully beat the stuffing out of his latest victim.
This was not looking good.
Time to go, then.
He kept his gaze locked on Archie until the last instant, then spun to the side and aimed a full-strength concussion beam directly at the centermost of the three stained-glass windows. Without waiting to see the spell’s full effect, he launched himself in the same direction, past the nearby circling demons that were blown aside like bowling pins. If he could get outside the chapel through the open window, then he’d have a chance to—
His feet lifted off the ground and suddenly he was suspended in midair, five feet off the ground. He wrenched himself first to one side and then to the other, fighting to focus, to break the spell’s hold, but he couldn’t manage it. As he drifted back toward the center of the room, he flung more spells—concussion, lightning, fire—but everywhere they landed, they bounced off invisible shields and fizzled. All around him, the demons roared with laughter.
Finally, when all he could do was hang there and glare, Archie strode forward. The circle parted for him. He gestured, and the invisible force holding Stone vanished, dropping him to the ground in a heap.
He scrambled back up. Immediately, two of the larger demons grabbed him in iron grips, yanking his arms behind his back.
Archie looked him up and down. “I thought you’d be more of a challenge,” he said. “But I’ll admit, I never thought you’d show up on my doorstep. That takes courage, I’ll give you that. Stupidity, for sure, but courage too. Plus it makes things much easier for me. Take his jacket off,” he ordered the demons.
They did so, wrenching him out of it and tossing it aside.
Archie paced, walking all the way around Stone. “You have some things I want, and having you here will make it easier to make sure I can get them.”
The demons’ grips were so tight that Stone couldn’t turn to follow Archie’s progress if he wanted to, so he didn’t even try. “I know what you want. You want your little class project. But you aren’t getting it. Your lackeys couldn’t get it away from me, and having me here won’t change that. It’s hidden where you’ll never find it.”
Archie’s smile widened. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that. But that’s not all I want—not by any means. Of course, I’d prefer to have those documents back. To be completely honest, I didn’t realize they still existed until you unearthed them. I thought those fools from the church must certainly have destroyed them. That’s what I would have done. I should be thankful for foolish human curiosity, I suppose. Having them back will hasten my plans considerably, since I won’t need to redo work I’ve already completed. But no, they’re not the main thing I need from you.”
“Oh?” Stone tugged at the demons’ grasps, but they held tightly. “Well, then, what do you need?”
“I’m surprised you haven’t figured it out yet. But then, I suppose you have had a lot on your mind of late.”
“Are you going to tell me, or shall we play guessing games? Apparently I’m not going anywhere. I do hope you’ve got decent refreshments ’round here.”
Archie ignored that. “Oh, I’ll tell you. I’ll even give you a little time to think it over.” He moved closer, until his face was only inches from Stone’s. He leered. “I want your body, Dr. Stone.”
Stone narrowed his eyes. “What?”
“Well, more specifically your skin. And your blood.” He backed off and began pacing again. “Those pages you have—I’m sure you’ve figured out that they’re part of a collection of spells. Each one of those people I killed, even the ones I used to create my own earthly body, made a contribution. Each of their skins provides a page, and their blood provides the ink to inscribe the spell on that page. Powerful stuff, as I’m sure you know.”
“So I’m to be just another page in your little magnum opus, then?” Stone asked. “Given how easily you’ve chosen your victims in the past, you seem to be going to quite a lot of trouble for me. Should I be flattered?”
“Oh, you don’t understand,” Archie said. “You’re not going to be a page. All of those dull, mundane humans are fine for providing raw materials for spell pages. But the cover—the thing that pulls everything together—requires a special contributor. Someone with significant magical abilities. I’d hoped to use that fool Goodwin, if he and his pathetic priest friend hadn’t gotten the better of me before I’d completed my plans. But that’s all right—I’m back now, and you’ll do quite nicely.”
Ah, it all made sense now. “There’s only one problem with your little plan,” Stone said. “And I’m surprised you haven’t figured it out yet.”
“Do tell.” Archie resumed his pacing—back and forth, back and forth.
Stone shrugged. “Well, you’ve got me here. That’s true enough. But the problem is, you don’t have all of me here.” He fixed Archie with a smile very much like the demon’s own. “Unless you’ve worked out a way to get skin and blood from a spirit, it sounds to me like you haven’t thought your plan through.”
Archie returned to his spot in front of Stone. “A minor problem, and one I shouldn’t have much difficulty solving. I might not have your body here, but I think I can convince you to cooperate anyway.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” Stone said. “I think you’ll have quite a lot of trouble getting to my body.”
Archie chuckled. “I might, if I had to go and physically retrieve it. But I’m not going to do that. You’re going to give it to me.”
Stone raised an eyebrow. “You should get out of here
more often, Archie. This place is giving you delusions. May I suggest a vacation? I hear Hawaii is nice this time of year.”
“Go ahead. Make jokes. Convince yourself that you have any control over the situation. But I don’t think you’ll be laughing as much when I start dismembering your friends one by one. I could use a few more pages for my work.” He tilted his head. “Who should I start with, do you think? The gray-haired woman? Your friend in Southern California? The old fool who thinks he can understand my language?” His eyes widened in a mock-dramatic expression. “I know. I’ll start with the girl. She thinks I can’t hurt her, but she’ll soon learn that she’s wrong.”
“You keep threatening to do that. But so far, I haven’t seen you make good on any of those threats. And in any case, even if you kill my friends, that still doesn’t get you any closer to my body.”
“We’ll see. I’ve got other options to start with. They may be enough.”
He took a step closer to Stone and reached out his hand. Claws extended from his fingertips. “I may not be able to hurt your body, but I don’t want to do that anyway. What use are damaged goods? This way, I get the best of both worlds. I get to make you suffer, and I still end up with a pristine body to use for my work. Isn’t it elegant how these things work out?”
“Uh…Boss?” The demon boy who had been Stone’s escort stepped forward.
“Yes? What do you want?” Archie sounded annoyed to be interrupted.
“I’m just sayin’, you may not want to touch him.”
“And why not?” He turned his cold gaze on his minion. “Speak quickly.”
“He’s wearin’ this thing under his shirt.” He shuddered. “I couldn’t get him to take it off.”
“Hmm…” Archie got into Stone’s face again. “Apparently, you’re just full of surprises. What are you hiding?” He produced a knife from somewhere in his putrid vestments and carefully sliced through the knot on Stone’s tie. Then, with equal care, he ran the blade down the front of Stone’s shirt, cutting each button loose. He nodded to the two demon captors, who ripped the shirt free and tossed it to the side.
Archie recoiled a little when he saw the crucifix, but recovered himself quickly. “Well,” he said, “I had no idea you were so devout. I was under the impression that you were quite the agnostic. Oh,” he added after a moment, “I understand now. That was a gift from your little girlfriend, wasn’t it?”
Stone didn’t answer. He didn’t miss the fact that the two demons holding his arms appeared to be doing their best to stay as far away from the crucifix as they could. He tried once again to take advantage of their unease and wrench free, but their grips tightened, their fingernails digging into his arms.
Archie stood back, arms crossed over his chest, contemplating. He didn’t look directly at the crucifix. “This makes things a bit more complicated, but not much. You!” he said, pointing at Stone’s erstwhile escort. “Get that thing off him.”
The demon stared at him in wide-eyed shock. “Boss! I ain’t touchin’ that thing! Get somebody else!”
“I gave you an order.” Archie’s eyes glowed red. “Follow it.”
The demon swallowed hard. All around, the others backed off, looking apprehensive as if fearful of drawing Archie’s attention themselves. None of them looked at Stone.
“Go on,” Stone taunted the demon boy. “You see how much your boss gives a damn about your well-being. Are you really surprised? Take it, if you’re brave enough.”
The demon’s gaze shifted back and forth between Stone and Archie. He swallowed hard again, clearly weighing which of the two represented the bigger threat. Then he skittered forward, slipped his hand inside the sleeve of his jacket, and reached out to grip the chain on which the crucifix hung.
As soon as he touched the chain, the crucifix began to glow, brighter and brighter until the white glare it emitted grew more intense than the sickly red light in the chapel. All of the demons staggered backward, raising their arms to cover their eyes. Even Archie flinched away.
Stone seized his chance, tearing himself free of the two demons holding him in place. If he could get to the window before the demons recovered, he could pull up an illusion and hide until he could figure out how to get back home.
He almost made it.
He would have made it, except his demon escort was made of stronger stuff then he’d suspected. The weaselly boy managed to keep his grip on the chain even as he was recoiling from its light. He yanked hard and the chain broke, pulling away from Stone. As soon as the crucifix lost contact with his chest, the light faded and died.
The demon boy screamed and flung it aside an instant before his body erupted into white-hot flame and disintegrated into a pile of dust on the floor.
Archie recovered faster than any of the others. He roared out a command in a language Stone didn’t understand, and a shimmering barrier appeared between the mage and the window he was trying to reach.
For just a second, reality seemed to shift. The chapel, the school-uniform-clad demon teenagers, and even Archie’s unholy vestments fizzled and faded, replaced by a world of twisting, bizarre shapes, clashing colors, and discordant shrieks of agony. Stone’s demon-sigil bracelet grew suddenly hot, feeling as if it were burning itself into his flesh. The barrier itself was still there, but instead of a featureless transparent wall, it changed to a solid sheet of something black with spikes sticking out of it.
Stone slammed into it headlong and staggered backward, stunned. The two demons grabbed him again, pulling him up short as Archie came back into view.
Reality tilted again, and the chapel scene was back.
Archie wasn’t smiling now. A bit of the skeletal face showed through that of the handsome boy, and his eyes glowed bright red, even brighter than the surging light in the chapel. “That was a mistake,” he said in a tone of deadly cold.
He raised his hand and gestured, and suddenly Stone couldn’t breathe. “Prepare him,” he ordered the two captor demons as the mage dropped to his knees.
He bent down to grip Stone’s chin and leaned in close; hot, fetid breath washed over him as he struggled not to black out. “We’ll talk later,” he said. “And you’ve just ensured that when I kill your friends, that little Mexican bitch will be the first to go.”
He shoved Stone backward as he continued gasping for breath that wouldn’t come. As the blackness took him, the last thing he felt was his two captors dragging him across the floor.
Chapter Fifty-Six
When Stone awoke, his body was twisted, his limbs folded into an uncomfortable near-fetal position. He could still sense the hellish red light even through his closed eyelids, but now the air was cold. He shivered. Beneath him, he felt cold metal against his bare skin. Wherever he was, the ground swayed occasionally as if in a gentle breeze. Something creaked above his head.
Experimentally, he cracked his eyes open just a bit.
He was still in the chapel, that much he could see right away. Archie had repaired the loathsome pulpit, the top of which loomed into his limited field of view. He also saw a curved row of sturdy iron bars between himself and the rest of the world.
He was in a cage, then.
Were the demons still here?
Did they know he was awake? Perhaps if he could manage a spell—
“Welcome back,” Archie said. “I hope the accommodations are to your liking. We set them up just for you.”
Titters came from somewhere below.
Stone opened his eyes the rest of the way. He was right: he was in a cage. A very small cage. The circular metal bottom, rusty and crusted with gods knew what, measured perhaps four feet in diameter—they’d had to fold his long limbs painfully to fit him inside it. The bars, far too close together to slip through, rose up and formed a dome several feet above him. Above that, he could barely make out the reason for the swaying: the cage was suspended from
the ceiling by a stout metal chain.
He gripped the bars and pulled himself slowly and painfully up. He was back to his normal body now—no longer a gangly teenager—and he was naked except for the snakeskin demon-sigil bracelet still clamped tightly around his wrist. Every few seconds, a blast of chill wind blew through the chapel, slicing like knives through his unprotected skin. Though his limbs ached from shivering and from the contorted position he’d been in, he saw no other immediate signs of injury.
Archie, still in his teen-bully-priest getup, lounged against the podium, watching him. A lit cigarette dangled from the corner of his mouth. The other demons, also still wearing their human guises and school uniforms, sat around on the broken pews. Some of them leered up at him, while others seemed to be involved in their own pursuits. His clothes lay in a shredded pile along one of the walls.
“I don’t see what you expect this will get you,” Stone said. His voice came out ragged. “You can keep me here for the next hundred years, and I won’t let you have my body.”
Archie shrugged. “I don’t think it will take nearly that long. I don’t think your mind is nearly as strong as you think it is. No mortal’s is. I’ve been doing this for thousands of years. I’ve gotten rather good at it by now.”
Stone didn’t answer. Instead, he shifted his focus and tried to visualize his aura, to see if he still had any magical ability.
No purple-gold nimbus appeared around his hand.
Archie grinned. “I didn’t think it would take you long to test that out, though. That cage isn’t just because we all like looking at you. It’s an effective anti-magic field. As long as you’re in there, you’re as mundane as a rock. And you won’t be getting out of there. Not until you agree to take me to your body.”
Stone leaned back against the cold bars. “Then it looks like we’re at an impasse, then, aren’t we? I’m not getting out, and you’re not getting my body.”
