Ten Lows A_Leaping

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by Debra Dunbar


  Beatrix sucked in a breath. That was a horrific story, but Snip seemed proud of the tale—and proud of his injuries.

  “Then they chopped up one of my ears and partially scalped me. Then they burned me on the hot stove coils.”

  “And you still didn’t talk?” Beatrix asked.

  “No, well not at first. And it was kind of hard to talk after they cut my tongue out. But the hot stove was pretty rough, so instead of telling them my secrets, I lied.” The Low puffed out his chest. “I’m very good at lying. It’s one of my special skills. My lies helped save the world, you know.”

  Lying was not a virtue, but demons were very strange creatures. And she was pretty sure he was lying about the saving-the-world part.

  “Did you escape? And why did you heal your ear and tongue, but not your fingers?” she asked.

  “The angel and demon traded me back to Nyalla. And an angel healed me, but he was under a spell at the time and didn’t have his full power, so my fingers didn’t get healed. Or my toes. That’s okay. I’m just glad I have all my hair back. It’s very hard to get laid when you’ve been partially scalped.”

  “I can imagine,” Beatrix responded. That had been quite a lot of torture. Probably just as much torture as having your wings pinned to the floor and being left to die.

  “You’re very brave,” she added sincerely.

  Snip wrinkled his nose. “Brave is knowing when shit is really, really fucking scary. It’s knowing when to lie, when to run away, when to kick someone in the nuts. It’s surviving, because sometimes that’s all you can do.”

  “It’s protecting your friends when you want to run away,” Beatrix added.

  The Low nodded. “It’s especially protecting your friends when you want to run away. That’s the most important of all.”

  She thought for a second, then lifted the whipped cream container, dismayed to find it empty. This Low was brave, and he was wise, and she liked extra cherries in her frozen mudslide drinks, too.

  “Okay. You may pass,” she told him with a smile.

  “See you tomorrow, Beatrix,” he said as he headed toward the gateway.

  “See you tomorrow, Snip.”

  Chapter 5

  She didn’t see him that next day. And even the two rum-flavored truffles in a shiny gold foil box didn’t erase the disappointment. Or the boredom. This was how it had been when she’d first been assigned here—nothing to see or do, a demon crossing every year or so to keep her from going stark raving mad. She’d forgotten how horrible these gate guardian assignments could be. When the mall opened up, there were humans to watch and things to do. When the Iblis became…well, the Iblis, all sorts of demons began using this gateway.

  Boring was good. Boring meant she wasn’t going to watch angels die or have her wings pinned to the ground and be left in agony for someone to find.

  Keeping the gateway in her peripheral vision, Beatrix began exploring the rubble, finding interest in the occasional object that the looters had missed. So far she’d found twenty smashed lipsticks, boxes of broken hangers, and a hat that was evidently so ugly the looters hadn’t even wanted it.

  Perching the hat on her head, she stared at the gateway, and thought back once more on what the information demon had said. This gateway was close to the Iblis’s residence, and the Ruling Council of angels tended to come and go with great frequency from her house. But that was openly known. Neither the Iblis nor the archangels had ever made any big secret of those facts. Was the information demon just checking to make sure the angels hadn’t moved the gateway? What was so important that he confirm the location as close to the Iblis? Was he, or someone, planning at attack?

  Nah. That would be stupid. They’d need a much bigger army than the one she’d caught a glimpse of through the gateway if they wanted to take on the most powerful angels in Aaru and the Iblis. Perhaps that wasn’t the important thing he was confirming. What else had he said?

  Or what had he seen? Beatrix stood and looked around her, trying to view the ruins of the mall with fresh eyes. The humans had begun excavation, and nearly half of the huge mall was now smooth dirt. Yes, there was a fifty square foot area of rubble, including a precarious second story open to the sky, but beyond that, the whole thing was wide open.

  Wide open. Nowhere for angels to hide in ambush. Nothing larger than a six-by-two foot column reaching to the sky. Even the giant construction equipment was parked way over near the end of what had once been a parking garage. An army coming through the gateway would only need to overpower one gate guardian, then they could scatter into Columbia or even up to Baltimore and blend in with the humans until they were ready to make their attack.

  It would be so easy right now, with a rebellion in Aaru, and the elves occupying the angels’ attention. If they subdued her before she could raise the alarm, hundreds could come through unnoticed. The information demon just needed to know that the area was still clear, and that the glimpse she’d seen of the army the other day didn’t cause the angels to post a very lethal welcoming party.

  The demons needn’t have worried. The angels hadn’t believed her. And when they were ready to make their move, the only one standing between them and free access to the human world was her.

  Fear ran like ice through Beatrix’s veins. They’d overwhelm her. They’d stab metal poles through her wings. They’d torture her. They’d kill her. She was just a gate guardian. She wasn’t powerful enough to stop them. She’d die here.

  And then she’d never find out what tomorrow’s gift was. Those sugar covered marshmallow chicks, maybe? Or a hollow chocolate Santa? A red velvet cake with extra sweet frosting?

  They wouldn’t kill her. And they wouldn’t get through. Beatrix shoved the fear down, and glared at the gateway. She’d been given this assignment. She’d been entrusted with the security of this gateway. She’d served in the capacity of gate guardian for almost a hundred years. She would not fail. No demon, beyond those in the Iblis’s household, would pass through this gateway. She’d make darned sure of that.

  And she’d live at least long enough to eat that cake, or whatever her present was tomorrow.

  Chapter 6

  “What is this? What is this?”

  Beatrix struggled not to roll her eyes. “During this time of the year, humans often decorate their dwellings and public spaces. That pole is meant to resemble a candy cane.”

  Ezras muttered a few choice words about the low intelligence of humans and their poor aesthetics. “Did you do that? It’s ugly.”

  “No, I did not ‘do that,’” Beatrix replied honestly. “And it’s not my place to judge human traditions. I’m here to guard this gateway.”

  “Well you’re doing a very poor job of it.”

  She’d had just about enough of this jerk. “No one came through yesterday. And the day before I turned back an information demon. How is that a ‘poor job’?”

  “You should have killed the information demon.”

  Oh, whatever. “Yeah. Sure. I’ll do that next time,” she lied.

  Ezras glared at her then stomped over to the giant metal candy cane. A week ago she would have cringed under his criticism, she would have gotten teary-eyed at the thought of him smashing the decoration. Now she just wanted to punch him in the face.

  She didn’t have to. Ezras reached out to yank the strand of blinking lights and must have touched a bare wire. There was a smell of burning flesh. The other angel yelped and jumped backward, shaking his hand. Beatrix snorted. “Don’t you have something better to do? Like to go tattle on me to the Ancient Revered One? Or go play in rush hour traffic?”

  He snarled at her, still shaking his hand, then vanished. Beatrix wandered over to the candy cane and examined it. If there was a loose or exposed wire, she should fix it before more damage was done to the human property.

  Nothing. The coating on the wires was all intact. She eyed the battery box curiously, wondering when the humans had come up with such long-lasting power supplies. The
thing had been blinking for four days now without running out of power.

  Four days. She narrowed her eyes and looked over at the excavation equipment. Humans often took time off for weekends and holidays, but there was no reason for these workers not to have returned in four days. Normally she’d expect to be dodging their bulldozers, and hiding her presence from them as they worked. But she hadn’t seen a human in four days.

  Hopping down from the rubble, Beatrix cast a quick glance at the gateway then headed over to the equipment. The weather here in Maryland was such that it wasn’t odd to have fifty and even sixty degree days in December. Snow, ice, or sub-zero temperatures weren’t keeping the humans from their jobs. What was?

  Off to the side she saw a huge sign with a picture of what the new mall was supposed to look like. It was more than a mall. It seemed the developers were planning a giant multi-purpose, twenty story building with the mall on the lower three floors and offices above. Beatrix winced, realizing that the building would be completely out of place in a town with tree-lined avenues and low buildings.

  Below the sign was a smaller one, holding a paper with tiny writing announcing an emergency public hearing due to a petition on the zoning waiver. Oh. Yes, that would certainly delay things. Humans. There were too many of them, and all they seemed to do lately was argue and fight.

  Beatrix turned, checking the gateway once more, and noticed a movement over by a backhoe. A demon trying to sneak back to Hel? Or a human child, exploring the ruins of the mall? She reached out with her awareness, trying to sense the trespasser. He, or she, wasn’t giving off much of an energy signature, and was definitely hiding behind the equipment. Probably a human. But if it were a child, this was a dangerous place, and she should make an effort to chase them off.

  She took two steps toward the backhoe, before the pile of rubble in front of the gateway, where she’d been sitting just five minutes ago, exploded. Bits of concrete and metal flew through the air. Beatrix dove under a nearby loader, feeling it shudder from the impact of debris. The explosion might not have killed her, but it certainly would have disabled her for a while…and left the gateway unattended. Scooting out from under the loader, she climbed over rocks and blinked in the thick dust that filled the air.

  The gateway was glowing gold. Someone was coming through. And she was willing to bet there would be more than just an information demon this time. Outrage filled her, made her teeth sharpen, her wings snap from their hiding place, it made the white energy that filled her spirit-self burst to the surface. This was her gateway. And she would shred any demon who dared attack her and try to cross.

  With a snarl she flew forward, her wings propelling her over the rubble that had been strewn across the cleared area. Shadows appeared in the golden glow of the gateway—dozens of shadows, but they could only cross a few at a time.

  Demons might have the ability to activate the gateways, to use them to travel to and from Hel, but these were angel-made, and it had taken several archangels to create them. A demon couldn’t expand the gateway, widen it for a legion to come through. They’d need to squeeze past one, or perhaps two, at a time.

  And that was how she’d kill them. Swooping low, Beatrix grabbed a metal pole realizing just as she dropped to the ground that it was the one with torn streamers and lights hanging off of it.

  “Get back,” she snarled, hitting one demon in the shoulder with the pole, then reversing her grip and spinning it around to hit another demon. Lows. They were sending the Lows through first to make sure the coast was clear before the other demons advanced. Glancing through the gateway she saw what had to have been two dozen demons, ready to make their move. Not quite an army, but she still didn’t want two dozen demons running around this side of the gates.

  The Lows squawked, dropping to the ground and trying to crawl past her. She kicked them, and swung the pole at another, knocking him back through the gateway and into another demon. One of the Lows grabbed her leg, sending a surge of electricity through her. She gritted her teeth, ignoring the sharp pain in her corporeal form and drove the pole downward into his torso.

  A bolt of lightning seared across her shoulder, leaving red flesh in a smoking wound. Again she swung the pole alternating her physical attack with bolts of white energy. They were coming through too fast. As quickly as she shoved them back into the gate, others took their place, pushing past the injured Lows and evading her swinging pole. With a scream of fury, she poured her energy into the metal, setting the torn streamers on fire and melting the broken strand of lights. In the background, she heard a deafening roar, saw the landscape light up as if someone had suddenly turned on a spotlight. Unwilling to break her concentration, she kept swinging, forcing the demons back through the gateway. The ones on the other side looked past her, their eyes wide. Then they ran.

  What the heck? The roar was louder, right behind her. The Lows she was battling screamed, frantically scrambling to get back through the gateway. Spinning around, Beatrix gasped, and dived to the side just in time to avoid being run over by a backhoe.

  She squinted up through the blinding light on the front of the monstrous piece of equipment and saw Snip, with an orange hard-hat perched on his head, driving the machine.

  “Activate the gateway,” he shouted, and without a second thought she did as he said. The gold light of the gate flashed, and Beatrix watched as the huge backhoe went through. Except the gateway wasn’t built for something quite so large. There was a crunch and a horrible screech, and the top of the backhoe cab sheared off the machine, dropping to the ground with a thud as the rest of it went straight to Hel.

  That had to have been the weirdest thing she’d ever seen. And she’d seen quite a lot of weird things in her time here among the humans.

  The gateway glowed gold again, and a Low staggered through. This one, though, was allowed to be here by his position in the Iblis’s household.

  “Do you mind if we skip the questions this time?” Beatrix gasped, leaning on the pole. How funny that the metal roofing strut, a reminder of her fear and torture, had been the very weapon she’d used to repel the demons.

  Snip scrunched his mouth in disappointment. “Can you ask me just a few? I mean, it’s important that we follow the rules, right? Because you’re an angel and you need to follow the rules and you’re supposed to interrogate me, right?”

  They were both filthy. He was bleeding and burned. So was she, but with a flash Beatrix healed all the injuries to her corporeal self and stood upright, tossing the pole to the side. Did the Low not want to heal himself? She looked once more at his mutilated hand and remembered how he’d been unable to replace the amputated fingers.

  “Snip, why are you here?” That wasn’t what she really wanted to ask, but that was what came out of her mouth. Duh. He was using the gateway to go back to Hel on some errand for the Iblis, no doubt. Although it was odd that he had just gone to Hel a few days ago and as far as she knew, he’d not returned.

  The Low squirmed. Then he pulled an enormous crimson bow out of his pocket, smoothed the crumpled ribbon, and stuck it to the front of his tattered shirt—right over his heart. “It’s the last day. I’m bringing you the last present. One Low. I know it’s Ten Lows a Leaping, or is it Lords? Anyway, I didn’t want to bring nine other Lows because they’d make a mess, and you probably wouldn’t notice me with a bunch of other demons running around. And this has more impact. The last day. One Low. Me.”

  His yellow eyes held hope and uncertainty, and suddenly she understood. All those gifts had been from this little guy. He’d met her a year ago, he’d seen her, and somehow in her mess of a breakdown she’d made enough of an impression that he’d cooked up this elaborate plan to…what? Court her? Befriend her?

  The longer she remained silent, the less hope and more uncertainty was in his eyes.

  “Am I supposed to eat you?” By the Creator, where had that come from? Her question was understandable, since all of his gifts had been foodstuff, but it was still wild
ly inappropriate.

  A sly grin curved his mouth upward. “I might like that. In fact, I think I’d like that a lot. Are your teeth really sharp? I’m not very good at fixing my injuries, but I’d be proud to walk around and show off the wounds you inflicted upon me to the world.”

  Demons. They were perverse, kinky creatures. Before Beatrix could respond, Snip pulled something else out of the pocket of his baggy pants—a twig, with some dried dark green leaves clustered at the end. He took off the hard hat, then raised the twig above his head and watched her expectantly.

  “What are you doing?”

  “It’s Mistletoe. During this time, around the winter solstice, humans hang this in their doorways, and if someone passes under it, they get a kiss.”

  That was the most insane custom she’d ever heard of. “Are you lying? You made that up, didn’t you?” She couldn’t tell, no doubt because he was so skilled in the art of lying.

  He slapped his other, non-mistletoe-holding hand, on his chest, crushing the red bow. “I swear it on all the souls I Own that this is truly a human seasonal custom.”

  She looked at the twig, at his hand over the bow with its missing fingers, at his odd eyes, so mischievous, so earnest. He’d given her such thoughtful gifts. He’d fought by her side. He’d risk his life to help her drive the demons back across the gateway.

  He’d seen her.

  “I’m very fond of human traditions,” Snip added. “And when in Rome…”

  They weren’t in Rome. Maybe the battle had jarred something loose in this Low’s head, but it seemed impolite to mention that now. “I like humans,” she admitted, remembering when the mall had been a bustling shopping venue and how she’d enjoyed listening to the teenagers’ conversations, how she’d smiled and cooed at the babies in their strollers, how she’d loved watching them go about their so-short lives.

 

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