Of Heaven and Hell

by Anthology

The air felt prickly as the barrier in front of Taz’ face shimmered. He held out his hand and fizzing static shot up his arm as it passed through the barrier. He quickly followed it, fully intending to throw himself at the warlock. However, at the last moment something changed.

  As Taz stepped through the shield, a loud crack sounded to one side, and he turned in time to see an opening appear in the cave wall. Bright, golden light spilled out, along with a wave of power that very nearly knocked him off his feet. He was almost blinded as his vision switched from human ocular senses to other abilities that could see only energy waves and patterns. In utter horror, he watched the demonic forms crowd the opening. The only reason they didn’t swarm through was because they blocked the doorway with their own bodies.

  The warlock gave a cry of triumph and raised his arm in an arc toward the doorway. Something rose from the still form on the altar and flew toward the opening like a shower of stardust.

  “No.” Changing direction, Taz leaped for the door. He didn’t quite know what he was intending, or hoping to do. He just knew he couldn’t let Pix’s soul be torn apart by the baying demons.

  Taz had passed through the door into the demon realm twice before. On both occasions he’d spent hours preparing, packing equipment and items specifically designed to help him get back out. If anyone had told him, even days before, that he would leap through the door with no forethought or preparation, he’d have laughed in their faces.

  Bracing himself for the familiar sense of time and space twisting around him, Taz tucked in his head and prayed to all the gods who might be listening. A sensation very much like something pulling him in every direction at the same time overtook him, stretching ligaments, muscles, and tendons to screaming point. If he had a voice, he would have screamed, but then he hit the ground rolling—and came up running.

  Demons have never been the brightest of creatures, nor the fastest. By the time the demons realized what had happened, what was among them, Pix’s soul had fled and Taz took off after it.

  The demon realm was pretty much the quintessential embodiment of the popular vision of hell. Lava pits belched fire and smoke that hung in the air giving the whole place a feverish sense of unreality. Gouts of darkness shaded the path, regularly torn apart by flashes of fire and lightening. Through this nightmare landscape, Taz sped, following the sparkle that flew ahead of him, trying not to think about what was coming behind.

  “Pix,” he called. “Pix, it’s me, Taz. Please stop. We need to stay near the door. We can’t get lost. Please stop.”

  Whether Pix could hear or not, he wasn’t listening, and he didn’t stop. Taz tried to keep his head while his heart thundered, panicked at the thought of being lost, unable to find a way out. Then the glittering shower was consumed by a rolling cloud of blackness and winked out.

  “Pix. No,” Taz screamed, and he plunged into the darkness.

  Instantly, the temperature changed from hot to cold and Taz shivered. It was no longer possible to run because he couldn’t see a hand in front of his face and it was too dangerous to move faster than a careful shuffle. Once, Taz’ questing foot kicked gravel off the path, and a vicious hissing announced its demise in a lava pit. “Pix,” he called, his voice shaking.

  There was no response, but Taz became aware of a sound that could have been crying. Taking a breath, Taz centered himself and sent his awareness out into the darkness. He sensed something, a small hunched figure, cowering on the path ahead. How the hell had he found his form?

  Taz had certain abilities that could prove very useful in situations such as this, unfortunately they took a lot out of him and therefore had limited duration. Time and space operated very differently in this realm, and even though the demons were hot on his heels, it would be a few minutes before they got here. That’s what the warlock was counting on to give him time to drain the energy from the door before they caught Pix, and then came back for more.

  “Pix, it’s me.” Pix whimpered. “It’s me, Taz. You remember me, right?”

  “Taz?” It was barely a word, more a whine, but it told Taz all he needed to know. Pix was cohesive enough to think. He was too scared to be of much help, but he was coherent, so he could understand and take orders.

  Dropping to his knees, Taz crawled forward, pushing his awareness before him to avoid dropping his hand into lava.

  Eventually, Taz’ questing consciousness came up against something that was different to anything else around. It was cool and shiny, a salve to his scorched senses. Taz edged closer and his hand touched something. Pix yelped and yanked his foot back.

  “Be careful,” Taz said. “You’ll fall into the lava. It’s alright. It’s only me.”

  “Taz?”

  “Yes.”

  Slowly, a figure unfolded from the black mist. It was hollow, merely an outline, filled with twinkling points of light. Taz held out his hand. For a brief moment, Pix stared at the hand; then he reached out and took it. The fingers in Taz’ weren’t cold and indistinct as Taz had expected, but warm and solid. As he watched, that solidity spread, quickly filling in the hollow shell, like water filling a glass. Strangely, the lights weren’t extinguished at all and shone through.

  Before he had a chance to think about it too much, Taz found himself face to face with a very solid, very real Pix. Taz gave a little tug on his hand, and Pix flung himself into his arms with a cry.

  “It’s you. It’s really you. I was so frightened. So alone.”

  Taz hugged him. “You’re not alone anymore,” he whispered

  For a long moment, Pix clung to Taz and Taz held him, even though he knew the demons would be on them any second. There was just something so precious, so pure, about the moment, he couldn’t bear to break it.

  “We have to go,” he said at last, when the threat was just too present to ignore. “The demons aren’t far behind and we have to go through them to get out.”

  Pix tilted his head back to gaze into Taz’ face. “We have to fight demons?”

  Taz cupped his face and gazed into his eyes. “It’s the only way. Stay close, as close as you can. Whatever you do, don’t let go.”

  “I can fight too,” Pix said quickly, and Taz was surprised to find fire and determination in his eyes, not the fear he’d expected.

  “You want to fight demons?”

  “I don’t want to, but if it’s a choice—either that or die.... I’m not going to let you fight them on your own.”

  Sunlight burst through Taz like a shower of gold. He squeezed Pix again. “I’m not on my own,” he said. “Leave the demon fighting to me. Be the thing I’m fighting for. The thing that makes it worth it.”

  “I can do that.”

  “Okay. We’re going to go fast, faster than you’ve ever run before. Close your eyes and hold on. It’s less disorienting that way.”

  “How will I know where to go? Won’t I fall in the lava if I’m not looking where I’m going?”

  “That won’t be a problem. Things are different here. All you need to do is keep close and hold on. Do you trust me?”

  There was barely a pause before Pix gave a quick nod and let him go, taking a tight hold of his belt. “I’ll do my best not to let go.”

  “If you do I might never be able to find you. I won’t leave you behind, so you’ll be dooming us both.”

  “No pressure then.”

  Taz smiled. “Oh, lots of pressure. Lots and lots of pressure.” Then he was running. He didn’t bother to watch where he put his feet because he knew everything was an illusion. He might just as easily have fallen in the lava from following the path. Of course he could have fallen in the lava by not following the path too, but he’d been into other realms often enough to know that if you were confident and believed you were doing the right thing, more often than not, things just seemed to happen that way.

  He couldn’t feel Pix’s hand on his belt, but he somehow knew Pix was with him, running at his shoulder, and there was a certain exhilaration to it.

&n
bsp; Taz reached into his coat and drew out two slim objects that snapped to bands around his wrists. With a flick, they extended into two wicked-looking blades that were now practically extensions of his arms. Ordinary blades made very little impression on demons, especially on their own turf, but these were no ordinary blades.

  The journey back was, as always, far quicker than the journey out. Time moved that way here, in ebbs and flows. When they hit the first demons, who seemed to be running easily as fast as they were, Taz could see the faint outline in the distance of the doorway, still open, still spewing demon power into his world.

  The first demons stood no chance. Some ran straight past him and others fell, their throats sliced by the blades. Others, realizing what was happening, moved in to block his path. Leaping over, dodging round, slashing and stabbing with practiced skill, Taz eventually found himself at the center of a circle of dead and dying demons. Beyond that, an even thicker circle of very-much-alive demons waited, watching warily, poised to attack, or flee.

  “Are you alright?” Taz asked in a whisper.

  “We’re going to die, aren’t we?” Pix whispered back, and Taz grinned.

  “Maybe, but I’m going to take a hell of a lot with us when we go. Ready?”

  Taz felt rather than heard Pix’s response; then he leaped over the dead demons, plowing into the living with his blades flashing, like an avenging angel. Sparks flew around him, giving him a halo of sorts, and some of the lesser demons fled. There were many who didn’t, though, too many.

  Taz was tiring fast, weakened by a dozen wounds, none of them serious, and the weight of Pix at his back. To give himself wholly to the fight he would have had to let go, and there was no way he was going to do that. Live or die, it would be with Pix at his side.

  A massive demon, with leathery wings spread wide and far too many teeth for its mouth to hold, stood blocking the way. To either side, smaller demons of every shape and size hemmed him in, shuffling closer. This was it.

  The doorway was close, so close, but it might as well have been a hundred miles. Taz was no match for the demon, and they all knew it. With Pix at his back, he couldn’t— But he had to. It was their only chance.

  “Get on my back,” he hissed.

  “What?” Pix sounded incredulous. “But I can’t. You can’t carry me. You’re hurt and—”

  Taz silenced him with a gesture. He didn’t have time for this. “Let me worry about that. Get on my back. Quick. He’s not going to hesitate long.”

  “But—” Taz could feel Pix’s indecision, and it irritated him. Couldn’t Pix see how desperate their situation was? That there wasn’t time to think let alone talk?

  “Don’t think, just do it,” Taz snapped. He knew he’d hurt Pix, but didn’t have time to be gentle with him.

  In one sense Pix weighed nothing. He still wasn’t in his body, not in any corporeal way. However, here in the demon realm, the rules worked in different ways, and although Pix was no weight to Taz’ body, he was a huge drain on his energy, as Taz had known he would be. There was only one way past the demon, one Taz had hoped he wouldn’t have to utilize. The energy output would be enormous. Too much. He had enough for a very brief spurt. If he was lucky it would be enough to get to the gate. If not he’d be spent and unable to fight anymore.

  Taking a deep breath, Taz leaped into the air, and kept rising. The huge, snowy wings that spread from his shoulders were easier to manifest here. It was almost impossible to do so in the heavy mortal realm. Even so, they took an enormous amount of energy to unfurl, and even more to manipulate. He chose to rise straight upward, in the hope it would startle the demon and he could get some height before it realized what was happening and took to the skies itself.

  Fortunately, the demon, true to its form, took time to process the fact that Taz had vanished from before him. Taz rode the currents for a moment, regaining what breath he could and getting his bearings; then he went into a sharp dive, heading for the door, just as the demon kicked off the ground.

  The demon caught on to what he was doing, and abandoning his attempts to climb, took off directly for the gate. Taz was faster, but the demon was objectively closer and it looked as if the demon might make it first. If that was the case all would be lost.

  “Oh my God, Taz. What does this mean? Are you an angel?”

  Pix’s awed voice shook Taz. He’d all but forgotten Pix was there. Pix. This was all about Pix. All for Pix. The thought lanced into his exhausted mind and spurred him on to put on one last burst of speed. The gate sped toward them, faster and faster, as Taz swooped low, almost skimming the ground. Pain shot through him when a few feathers ignited in the intense heat as they flew over the lava flows, and he wobbled wildly. He banked sharply, unbalanced by the loss of feathers, but righted himself just in time, and as demon claws raked his calf, he burst through the door.

  A huge backlash of energy followed him, filling the room with a blast of blistering heat and a screech of pure rage. Taz had no more than a moment to register this, because his exhausted mind switched off even before his battered body hit the ground.

  “Taz. Taz, I’m afraid. I’m alone again and I’m afraid.”

  Pix’s voice drifted to him from a long way away. “No you’re not,” he mumbled. “We’re safe. We’re back.”

  “I’m so alone, Taz. Save me. Please save me.”

  “I already did.”

  “Save me.”

  Pix’s voice faded and Taz shuddered. They were safe. He’d saved them. He had saved them. He had saved them? Unsure now, he forced his battered body and even more battered mind back on track.

  “Taz? Taz, are you okay? Oh God, please be okay. I’m going to lose it completely if you’re not okay. I can’t handle this alone.”

  “Alone? Pix?”

  “No. Not him. Just me.”

  “Rohan?”

  Memories were surfacing fast and clicked into place with increasing speed. “The warlock.” He sat up, and his battered body complained bitterly.

  “He’s gone.”

  “What do you mean, gone? How did you get free?”

  “I don’t know, not really. You jumped at the wall and there was this kind of explosion. It blinded me. I heard the scary guy laugh; then he screamed. When my vision came back he was struggling with something, waving his arms around and yelling. He was wearing a necklace. I didn’t really get to see it very well, but suddenly it floated up in the air and he started yelling about ghosts, and demons, and not stealing his power. He was flying all over the place like he was fighting with someone. Then he went still and stared at the wall. I looked to see what he was staring at and the whole bloody thing exploded. Jesus, I thought I was dead. I’ve never known anything like it. Literally, the whole wall went bang and it sort of... surged in, and then surged back out again—like, you know, like when a ball hits a wall and bounces, only we’re in the wall and it went through and....” He sighed. “I have no idea what I’m talking about, but I closed my eyes, and when I opened them, the creepy guy was gone and all the chains just crumbled to dust.”

  Taz nodded. “Energy surge,” he said. “It will do that.”

  “Do what?”

  “Energy surges like that can overwhelm anything that contains a high magical charge and they’ll just crumble to dust.”

  “Is that what happened to that guy?” Rohan sounded queasy.

  Taz absently nodded, gazing around. “The ghosts,” he said, sadly.

  “What ghosts?”

  “They were what he was fighting. I think they were trying to keep him occupied, stop him hurting Pix until I got back. They must have been caught in the blast.”

  “I’m sorry,” Rohan said, and there was something in his voice that suggested he was talking about more than the ghosts.

  “Why? What’s wrong?”

  “It’s too late. He’s gone.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Pix.”

  “Pix’s what?”

  “He’
s gone, Taz. Geez did you hit your head or something?”

  Taz scrambled painfully to his knees. “It might be the only thing I didn’t do,” he said. “What are you talking about? Pix’s not gone. He’s right there.”

  Rohan fastidiously refrained from looking at the altar. “His body is, Taz, but.... He’s gone. I checked. There’s no pulse, no heartbeat or breathing. Nothing. He’s dead.”

  “No.” Taz grabbed the edge of the altar to haul himself to his feet. His word wasn’t a cry of pain, but a statement of fact.

  Pix was breathtaking. Pale and lovely as an alabaster statue. Taz couldn’t help but stroke the curve of his cheek, brush raven strands of silk from his face. Dark lashes made an exotic fan and was the only relief from the unrelenting white that had crept across his face, even over his lips. He was a perfect, cold, china angel.

  “When the soul has separated from the body, there is no hope,” a voice said from just over his shoulder. “The body must die.”

  Taz turned his head and was pleased to see his ghostly friends, a little ragged around the edges perhaps, but apparently whole—as whole as ghosts can be.

  “No,” he said again, and then dismissed them from his thoughts to concentrate wholly on Pix. Taking a deep breath, Taz laid his hands, one on top of the other, on Pix’s chest and concentrated hard, sending whatever energy and healing he could draw in from his surroundings into the cold body. Given the location it was precious little, but hopefully it would be enough to augment his natural ability. A glow appeared around his hands, woefully dim but clear in the gloom of the cave.

  “What’s that?” Rohan whispered, his voice dark with exhaustion and suspicion. Even now he didn’t trust Taz with his precious friend. “What are you doing?”

  Taz ignored him.

  Time passed and Taz began to get tired. Was this a fool’s errand? Maybe the ghost was right and Pix had simply travelled too far away from his body to find his way home. But no, he was sure, so sure he could hear Pix’s voice, faint but close; too close to lose his way. Not now. With a final effort, Taz sent a warm burst of energy into Pix’s cold body.

  For a moment all was still. It seemed to Taz that a haze of steam was rising from Pix’s lips, but he knew it wasn’t steam, and he knew it wasn’t rising at all but descending, returning to where it belonged. Staggering with exhaustion, Taz stepped back and was steadied by Rohan.