Slip Song (Devany Miller Series)

by Jen Ponce

  He stared at me coolly, then inclined his head. “Of course. I will go.” Passing by, he made sure to brush himself against me, his deep blue eyes connecting with mine as if he planned to hypnotize me or something. Cocksure asshole.

  Annoyed by his attitude, I waited until he was almost to the door, then said, “You owe me tribute.”

  “Pardon?”

  “You heard me.”

  He stared down at my chest and I was glad I still wore my turtleneck from the morning outing. Sorrow hit me at the memory and I pinched myself to keep the tears at bay. “I will return Tytan’s holdings to him.”

  “You’re going to do that anyway.”

  A vein popped on his forehead. “What is it you wish?”

  “I want you to spy on some people for me. Keep a close eye on one woman in particular.”

  He tipped his head to one side. “You want me to spy?”

  “Not just spy. Mess with. Annoy. Upset. Haunt. Possess. Whatever it is you can do to make yourself the biggest pain in the ass the world has ever seen.”

  His smile was back. Almost made him look human. “I do believe I can do that.”

  “Good. Do you know who the Theleoni are?” I was betting he did, since a Skriven had been helping Yarnell, former leader of the human-stealing dickwads.

  “As a matter of fact I do.”

  “Good. Go piss them off. If you learn anything important, let me know.”

  His brows rose. “I don’t have to collect any souls?”

  I kept the disgust inside. “Not right now. I’ll let you know when I need some.” I pointed to the door. “Bye.” Don’t let it hit you in the ass on the way out.

  As soon as the door shut I went hunting for Tytan. “Hello?” I heard a muffled sound and searched for it, imaging him stuffed in a closet. The wooden door swung open easily onto stairs descending into gloom. “Tytan?” Out of the darkness rose a horror: a floating head, its teeth gleaming despite the pitch black, its skin pale white and flaccid, trailing glistening intestines.

  I smiled. “Nex! It’s so damn good to see you.”

  -FIVE-

  “You’ve returned almost too late.” The bobbing grey head floated up to me, his eyes pooling with black. He was getting ready to talk of the future, or at least of things I needed to know. “My queen says the barriers are dropping. When they do, she will be forced to release the souls.”

  I looked over my shoulder then leaned close to him. “Your queen has the souls?”

  He inclined his head. “Ravana made the agreement with us many thousands of years ago. She would keep the Swamps hidden and in return, my queen would hide the souls deep within the Source.”

  “The Source? You mean the energy these Skriven keep blathering on about is in a swamp?”

  “It is Source in solid form, the stuff from which all Midia was created. We have kept it hidden, for if Midians discovered it, they would destroy the Swamps to harvest it. And that would doom the whole planet.”

  I looked around again, unsure where Tytan was. I lowered my voice even further. “So what was this agreement? And can I make a new one?”

  His eyes cleared. His lips contorted around his fangs. “It takes a ceremony. A sharing of power. You would need to visit the Swamp and my queen.”

  Of course I did. I shut my eyes. “Fine. How soon does this need to be done?”

  “You cannot wait much longer. The barriers have been shredding since you killed Ravana. The holes are getting bigger and more hungry eyes are casting about for the sudden influx of power they sense.”

  “I just lost my husband, Nex. The Theleoni murdered him. It might be hard for me to get away anytime soon.”

  “I am sorry for your loss. If you’d like, you may ask my queen to help you avenge him. She always said she got the better end of the bargain with your predecessor, though she would never admit that to you.”

  The idea of siccing a flesh eating monster on the woman and her followers who killed Tom felt very satisfying, although I wasn’t too sure I didn’t want to avenge him myself. “Will you come with me to open up the negotiations?”

  “Of course. Were you to try and leave me behind, I would haunt your dreams so that you woke in terror for forty on forty years.”

  I arched a brow.

  “That was rather dramatic of me.” He did a good job of looking contrite, considering he was all head and teeth.

  “Do you think this whole agreement/power-sharing thing can wait a week? At least until Tom’s funeral is over?” My voice broke a little over funeral. How could he be dead? It didn’t seem real.

  “I believe that will be okay. Much longer might be too late.”

  “Understood.” I left him floating in the hall to search for a door to the outside. The first few led to bedrooms and one to what looked like something out of a fetishist’s dream. I kept at it until I found one that opened onto a marble lanai. Tytan laid in a heap on the ground. I nudged him with my toe. “Ty?”

  Nothing. Remembering the last time he’d been hurt, I kept my distance. He had a way of convincing me to do things to heal him that probably weren’t necessary. He could heal nicely on his own without my lips, thank you.

  When another nudge failed to rouse him, I went back inside and returned with a vase full of icy water. I dumped it on his head and that got him to sit up, sputtering and swearing. “Oh good. You’re alive.”

  He sluiced water off his face and glared. “That wasn’t nice.”

  “I’m an Originator. That’s not in my job description.” I looked away when I realized I’d been admiring the lovely way the water had slicked down his shirt and emphasized his ripped chest. Since everything else in the Slip seemed to be illusion, I figured that was illusion too. I would have to remember to ask how to create one. I could give myself a six pack and guns without ever having to step foot in a gym. “I need to find my trog. Get his help learning whatever it is I need to learn. I also need to get home and plan Tom’s funeral. Then I have to visit the Swamp.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Why?”

  Shit. Why? Uh. “Nex said the queen can help me understand my power.” Liar, liar, pants on fire.

  “How would the fleshcrawler queen teach you about that?”

  I shrugged. “Nex said she could, so it must be true. He did the whole inky-pools-in-the-eyes bit.”

  He didn’t look convinced so I reached down and tugged him to his feet to change the subject. “You going to help me convince my trog to teach me?”

  A snort. “You don’t convince trogs. He’s your slave. You can order him to do it and if he doesn’t, you banish him.”

  I caught the tiniest shiver across his shoulders. “Why is that so bad?”

  “We have access to the Source here. On Midia or Earth, we are cut off. No power. It’s hideous.”

  “Power. That’s all you lose? That’s what makes you look all freaked at the thought?” I wasn’t the only liar in town, but I guessed it was only fair. “Whatever. If it works, I don’t care why.”

  His laughter made my lips twitch. “Now you’re sounding more like a Skriven.”

  I started back through the house when he caught my arm. “Why don’t you hook to him?”

  “Because I’ll screw it up. I told you, my magic is all wonky.”

  He stepped closer. “One, I helped you before and you did fine. Two, this is the Slip and you are an Originator, however unconventional. I have a feeling you’ll surprise yourself.”

  I shut my eyes, the better to concentrate and the hook sprang up as I thought about it, almost as quickly as it had when Arsinua had been behind the wheel. “Uh. I didn’t even picture Medusa Head in my mind.”

  “The beauty of the Slip.” He stepped through before I could answer. With a sigh, I followed.

  Medusa Head’s house looked like the lair of a creepy monster in the woods. Said creepy monster was banging around his house, throwing things, cursing, muttering about ... me?

  “Excuse me, I only got here. How can you be curs
ing me already?”

  He spun, the two pits where his eyes should be boiling smoke. “You! Fucked up my home. The whole quadrant looks like a stinky Earth hell-hole. I can’t. Find. Anything.” He tossed a pan and I ducked, hearing the copper whistle past my ear.

  Tytan had him pinned to the wall in my next breath.

  Huh. I’d always wanted a body guard. Feeling rather kickass, I swaggered over. “I’m here to claim your services.”

  He hissed, his tentacle hair whipping out at Tytan’s face. “You don’t have a claim on me.”

  “Oh but I do. You’re my trog. The Originators said so. You don’t want to cooperate? You can go live down on that stinky Earth hell-hole I call home.” I stepped toward him, avoiding most of the mess, letting a slight smile play out on my lips. “Cut off from your power. Forced to live out your miserable existence as an ordinary peon.”

  “You wouldn’t dare. You couldn’t. Amara wouldn’t allow it.” His voice got raspier as Tytan squeezed but it wasn’t until I formed the hook he finally gave in. “No. All right. I’ll submit. Just,” he shuddered. “Shut the damned portal.”

  I let the hook collapse and then crossed my arms over my chest, as Tytan stepped away from him. “I need some help with this Skriven stuff. All of it.”

  He slumped, his lip curling. “You aren’t asking much, are you? Thousands of years worth of magic and lore and you want. All of it.”

  “Yes.”

  With a wave of his hand he gestured at his house. “Change it back, then. I can’t work in a ... human hovel.”

  “Seriously?” He didn’t speak so I sighed. “I don’t know how to return it back to whatever it looked like before. Why can’t you set it?”

  If he had eyes, he would have rolled them. Not sure how he managed to look so annoyed without them. “It would cost me. You making me your Draw took every last erg of power I had and more. I’m in hock up to my eyeballs with Amara.”

  “You can live with it,” Tytan said. “Don’t let him bargain with you. He’s your servant.”

  Right. “Fine. Live with it. You want to have your house returned to its former unglory, you need to earn the right.”

  The door jamb beside his head splintered. The rafter above mine split, sending a shower of splinters and dust on top of me. I covered my head and leaped out of the way as it crashed to the floor.

  Tytan threw him against the wall, which left a dent in the peach-covered plaster the size of Medusa Head’s cranium. “Take him to Earth. He’ll cooperate after a week or two there.”

  I didn’t have a week or two. Still, I didn’t want to stick around while Medusa Head had his fit. I formed the hook under his and Tytan’s struggling forms and they dropped through out of sight. I jumped in after them.

  We came out downtown, near a homeless shelter. It was freezing, my flesh pebbling with the cold. No, I didn’t like Medusa Head―what was his name? I knew it once. Vasili. Right. I didn’t like Vasili, but I didn’t want him to die of exposure. One problem. He still had tentacles. “How do I camouflage him?”

  Tytan put his hand on Medusa Head’s arm. There was a tugging sensation from the middle of my belly as he pulled magic through me. When he was done, Vasili looked like a sixties hippie with dreadlocks. Ty stepped back with a smirk. “Suits you.”

  “Take me back.” He reached forward, to clutch my hand or kiss my ass or something but Tytan blocked his movement. His now brown eyes pleaded. “I’ll be your devoted servant. I’ll do anything you ask. Don’t leave me here, looking like this.”

  He sounded so lost, I almost gave in. Almost. “The homeless shelter is there. I’d go get in line if I were you. They only can take in so many each night. I’ll be back in a week to find you. Right here, in seven days. If you aren’t here, I won’t come looking for you and I’ll find someone else to teach me. Understand?”

  Shivering, his teeth clacking together, he could only nod hopelessly. Good. I hoped he’d tow the line when I came back for him. He turned and slumped away, his shoulders rounded and small in his thick blue coat.

  “Let’s get out of here.” Tytan reached for me and I backed up a step.

  “No. You don’t need to touch me. I think I can get us back. Then I have to go home.” I shut my eyes and concentrated. It didn’t come as easily here but with the feel of it fresh on my mind the hook did come and we stepped through. All without having to touch him. Yay me.

  The Slip was still set to my version of my old hometown. So strange to see it in 3D the way I always saw it in my dreams. “Why, when they were discussing my training, did they suggest I learn from Medusa Head? Why not you?”

  “Because spawn aren’t willing to help their parent. It’s all about survival of the fittest up here. If I help you, I’ll never find my soul and then I won’t ever ascend.”

  “Oh.” With that light shining on the situation, I realized how much more dangerous Tytan was than I thought. I eyed him. “Why are you helping me, then?”

  “I already told you why.”

  “Because you’re horny? I don’t think so.”

  His eyes clouded. “You would never understand what it was like to be Ravana’s play thing. Ellison and I were her favorites. What you saw her do to me was a gentle pat compared to the stuff she thought up over the years. Perhaps I feel like I owe you for saving my sanity.”

  Don’t trust him. Don’t trust him. I chanted that over and over in my head. Abusers often used sad stories to rope in their victims. Tytan was savvy enough to do the same. I wanted to believe him, which also made me wary. “Do you think you could find Arsinua for me? I need her help to get this heart under control and I have no idea where to start looking.”

  “When she wants to hide, she does a damn good job of it. But I will find her. Count on it. I’ll come to you when I do.”

  Uh. “Not when my kids are around, please.”

  He nodded. “Of course.” A pause. “Will you help me find Cyres?” Seeing the look on my face, he held up his hands. “If you find her and protect her, that will be enough.”

  Right. “I’ll try. If I can find her and get her somewhere safe, I’ll do that.”

  We stared at each other. I itched to stick my hand out so we could shake on it but damn it I had to stop touching him. Instead I slipped my hands into my back pockets. “I’ll see you in a week, if not sooner.” I formed the hook and stepped through it before he could say or do anything else that might tip my world into further imbalance.

  I was back in my room and my eyes went to the clock. Five minutes had gone by, those five minutes spent dumping Vasili off outside the homeless shelter. Yawning hard enough to hurt my jaw, I fell into bed with my clothes on hoping I would go right to sleep.

  But there was Tom to think about. Tom and his horrible death. Tom’s golden soul tucked safely inside my body. Who would I talk to about that? Arsinua? She would freak out. Maybe Marantha.

  I sat up, my heart thudding at the sudden thought. I’d had Arsinua inside me. Marantha had helped me force Arsinua’s soul into a Skriven construct I’d named Lucy, thereby giving Arsinua a new life.

  Could I get Tytan to help me make another Formless One and push Tom’s soul into it? Could I bring him back to life?

  I curled into a tight ball, my mind racing along with my heart. The steady beat, beat of my blood through my veins made me feel like it would explode out of my skin at any minute. Making a Formless one was horrible, soul-wrenching work. I’d vowed I would never do it again.

  How would I explain Tom’s sudden reappearance?

  No. I couldn’t do it. It would be wrong. He was gone.

  Still. To give the kids back their father would be the most amazing miracle. I knew how to do the transfer. The question was, could I do it again?

  -SIX-

  Bethy woke me early, crawling into bed, her face swollen and eyes red. “I hoped it was just a bad dream but it wasn’t, was it?”

  I hugged her close and kissed the top of her head. “No. I’m so sorry.” Her ragged
breathing tore at me. “He’ll always be with us. In our hearts and memories. We keep him here by talking about him and remembering the moments we spent with him.” My own breath hitched in my chest.

  Grief is a funny thing. It stretches time out to agonizing slowness and yet the last moments we had with our loved ones before they died were too short, too brief. To make it worse, Tom and I hadn’t had many nice things to say to each other the last few months. He’d hurt me plenty with his cheating. I’d hurt him by ending our marriage. Why is it we lose sight of the fragility of life so easily? Get angry, stomp off to work, only to never see that person again because of a freak accident, a heart attack, a murder.

  “It won’t always hurt this bad, sweetheart.” When my mom died, I couldn’t cope with her loss. I would forget she was gone and dial her number. I’d drive halfway across town only to remember she’d died. I’d try to remember who my first grade teacher was and realize she wasn’t there to tell me anymore. “I promise.” I didn’t tell her that though it wouldn’t hurt so sharply, it would stay a deep ache inside her forever. She didn’t need to hear that from me—she’d figure it out on her own.

  The alarm clock blared. I banged the snooze button, then picked it up to turn it off. We could sleep in today, though there was a lot I needed to do. Just the thought of it all made me want to hide under the covers and stay in bed.

  Liam came in looking haggard. He didn’t say a word, just dropped into my bed and tucked his head in the crook of my arm. His hand slipped over Bethy’s and their fingers wove together. I hugged them both, wishing I could find a way to protect them from the world’s hurts. Stupid, I know. It’s the hurts that make us grow and sweeten the good parts of life, right?

  In the middle of the hurt, it was hard to imagine anything good.

  “I love you guys. Whenever you need to talk, or cry, you can come to me.”

  “Love you too Mom,” Liam said in his too-deep voice. Not my little boy anymore.