“Nice try,” he said. “Really nice, actually. You almost had me, but . . . ”
“We can fix the house,” Lilli offered, “and start recapturing demons.”
“I know you can. It needs someone who can see things in a positive light,” Nat said. “Lilli, this is your new pad, if you want it. It comes with its own apprentice. Sorry I left it a bit of a mess.”
Then Nat walked out, down the steps, through the stinking chaos splattered all over the lawn, and away toward the harbor.
EPILOGUE
The next day they gathered at the house again, even though Nat was gone. Sandy sat reading the journal, her thirst for knowledge driving her to decipher every word. Richie repaired walls with spackle. Lilli entered with a wheelbarrow.
Sandy sniffed and curled up her nose. “Eww! What’s that?”
“The remains of our friends,” Lilli answered. “The raw, digested chaos from the creature’s stomach.”
“Monster barf?” Richie said. “Yo, tell that stuff to dump itself into the cellar where the Beast used to live or something.”
Instead, Lilli dipped her hand into it and walked to a nearby wall. She smeared the liquid chaos across the surface, painting, shaping, and sculpting for a moment and then letting it do what it pleased. Zoot swept his trident in random circles, and the makeshift paste transformed the crumbling wall into a bizarre beautiful mural, which to Sandy looked like an abstract representation of the underground battle with Charr, to Lilli like the Troll holding her beloved VW Bug, and to Richie like his spectacular capture of Flappy on Puget Sound. As the picture changed, the smell shifted too, until it was no longer unpleasant but simply a bit sad, like orchids at a funeral.
“We cannot tell chaos what to do,” Lilli said. “We can only suggest a direction for it to take.”
One hundred miles away, Nat steered the Wanderer into the sunset as he left Puget Sound and moved out into the open ocean, heading due west with Nik and Pernicious silhouetted on his shoulders. His newest minion, Wedge, rested in a network of cracks that ran through the wood of the deck, too frightened of the vast liquid sea and its lack of hard materials to risk tearing into the vessel’s hull, which was fine with Nat. He didn’t need any leaks. The ocean was a big place, and it was going to be a long voyage.
END
APPENDIX
Where in the heck is Seattle? Just up there . . . and a bit to the left.
The Space Needle. Scraping the Seattle skyline since it was built for the 1962 World’s Fair.
Unsuspecting houseboats on Lake Union.
The Fremont Troll with a full-size Volkswagen Bug in its claw. And yes, that is Royce’s eldest son with his hand up its nose.
Gas Works Park. A beautiful, serene grassy waterfront with a deliciously creepy decaying factory.
Royce and his minion, Nikolai (I’m the one on the right).
Photo by Jon Brunk
Novels by Royce Buckingham
Demonkeeper
Demonkeeper II - Demoneater
Demonkeeper III - Demonocity
Goblins
The Dead Boys
Demoneater Page 14
