“To talk to you!” Zag said with a puff. “Not the whole council. He showed up and demanded to talk only to you!”
“Who is this ‘he’ we’re talking about here?” Angela asked.
“The Ferryman King—he’s at your door!”
“I can’t imagine why,” Angela said, tossing Donny a smirk. “Hop on.” Zig-Zag climbed onto the chariot. They sprinted the short distance to the pillar and took the narrow road that spiraled up to her front door. A full circle around the great stone column brought them to where the Ferryman King stood, flanked by four of his ghastly guard.
The runner imps stopped a short distance away. The chariot rocked as they shifted nervously from foot to foot. “Calm down, boys,” Angela told the runners. “Once we’re off, you can go.” They hopped off the chariot, and the runners swung it around and hustled away, glad to retreat.
Angela flicked her eyebrows up and down at Donny and Zig-Zag, then walked over to stand before the Ferryman King. “This is an unexpected visit,” she said brightly.
The Ferryman King sneered with what was left of his lips. With one hand he raised the jawbone high, and with the other he pointed a bony finger at Angela. “You killed my son.”
That’s not good, Donny thought.
Angela put her fists on her hips. “How do you know it’s your son?”
“They are all my sons.”
If Angela was intimidated, she didn’t let it show. “Well, let me tell you something about that particular offspring. He trespassed in the mortal realm, and he captured souls from the soulstream.”
The Ferryman King’s neck made a bony, crunching sound as his enormous head listed to one side. His breath whistled through his clamped teeth like a graveyard breeze.
“Kids today, right?” Angela said. “It gets worse. He didn’t just collect the wicked souls that belong down here. He grabbed anything he could get, the good and the bad. When we found his hiding place, there were hundreds of souls already trapped.”
The king cradled his forehead with his spidery hand. “That cannot be true.”
“Oh, it certainly is. I know we don’t have too many laws down here, but capturing good souls has to break one of them. When we caught him in the act, your little acorn attacked us. We had to defend ourselves. Either he was going to let the fire out of us, or we were going to let it out of him.”
The Ferryman King turned his back to them. His head lowered and practically disappeared beyond his shoulders.
“You know it’s true. I think you knew some of your own were involved all along,” Angela said. “So what was he doing? Was he feasting?”
The Ferryman King stood clutching his head. He bent a little at the knees and waist. When time went by without a response, the tallest of his guards spoke for him. “You said hundreds. He couldn’t devour all those souls. Not that many. They were meant for something else.”
“But what?” Angela asked.
The guard shook his bony head. “That is unknown.”
The king finally spoke again. He raised a hand, two long fingers extended. “Two were missing,” he said. He turned to face them again. “Two sons.”
Angela scratched the back of her head. “But why? Since when do your ferrymen go rogue?”
That seemed to anger the king. He rose from his slump to his full height, swaying a little as if tugged by invisible wires. Donny heard a muffled clatter of bones inside those robes. The king loomed over Angela. “Do you think archdemons are the only ones who fight and disagree? This revolution of yours was a topic of dissent among the ferrymen, as well. Some of my sons believed that the Pit of Fire should still burn and that the souls should be cast inside to suffer forever, as they always had.”
Angela’s face grew hot and red. Talk of restoring the pit had a way of doing that to her.
“During the war,” said the king, “some of my sons even wished to join the Merciless in battle. I told them it was not our place to interfere. I said we would bring the dead to you, and let you decide how to punish them. But the two that are missing now, including the one that you have slain—they were the loudest and angriest of the dissenters.”
“You might have mentioned all this at the beginning,” Angela said.
The king leaned closer and glared down, his enormous head almost directly over hers.
“Find my other son, near the second place I showed you on the map,” the Ferryman King said. “Destroy him if you must.”
“It might be more complicated than that. There was a fire-portal in his lair in Puerto Rico. I’m guessing I’ll find the same thing at the second location. Your other son may be the one who’s down here somewhere, on the other side of that portal. Or it might be somebody else whom we haven’t seen—someone in Sulfur who’s behind all this, and is helping them.”
Bones creaked as the ferrymen swayed and turned to look at each other. The king joined the others as they gathered in a circle. The ferrymen put their heads close together. They whispered in some strange tongue that Donny could not understand, a language of hisses and clacking teeth.
“What are they saying?” Donny whispered to Angela.
“Ya got me,” she replied. “I don’t speak ferryman.”
The conversation among the ferrymen ended. The king stepped over to speak to Angela again, a second ferryman close behind him. “I am troubled by your news. Ferrymen do not take sides. That was my decree. We ferry the dead, and that is all. If this second dissenter is in league with other beings, this must end now.”
“Ditto that,” Angela said.
The king gestured to the ferryman by his side. “This one will go with you.” It was the tall one who had spoken to them before. “He is the strongest of my sons, and he will subdue the dissenter. You deal with the others.”
Donny gulped. Angela’s eyebrows rocketed up. “Are you serious?” she asked.
The new ferryman took a step forward, frighteningly close. “I am ready for this hunt,” he said.
“Sorry, but no,” Angela said. She put both hands up, palms out. “You see, my whole thing is keeping infernal beings out of the mortal realm. Bringing one with me . . . well, I have a policy against that.”
“You will make an exception to your policy,” the Ferryman King said. Without another word he strode past them, and the others followed, except for the tall one.
Angela folded her arms and scowled as she watched them go. Then she looked up at the lone ferryman.
“So, what’s your name?” Angela asked.
He stared and clacked his teeth before answering. “If you must have a name, call me Agony.”
Angela giggled and then covered her mouth with her fingers. “Agony. Isn’t that lovely?”
“I am ready for this hunt,” Agony said again.
“Yes, you mentioned that already. But we are not. We won’t leave until tomorrow. Do you want to come inside?”
“I will wait here,” Agony said. He straightened to his full height and stiffened like a statue. It made a faint sound, like ice freezing.
Angela looked at Donny and shrugged. “At least we’ll have plenty of muscle.”
CHAPTER 43
Angela was absent until the following afternoon. “Plans and preparations” was all she said before she left.
While she was out, an urgent, insistent knock came at the door. Donny and Tizzy looked down from the window above. The ferryman still stood frozen in the same spot. Beside him, ready to rap on the door again, was an imp with a long wooden case tucked under one arm. His scales were burnt, bleached, and discolored.
“Hi down there!” Tizzy shouted. She smiled and flapped her hand furiously in greeting.
Arglbrgl was with them in the pillar. He squeezed between Donny and Tizzy and growled at the imp below. “GRRBRGR.”
The imp squinted up, searching for the voices. “Ah. There you are. Delivery for Angela Obscura. From the Hall of Elements.”
“She’s not here, but you can leave it for her,” said Donny.
The imp cast a wary sideways glance at the frozen ferryman and shook his head. “These are precious and valuable items. I can hand this over to only Angela Obscura. By order of the chemist.”
“Okay. You’ll have to wait, then,” Donny said. “She’ll be back eventually.”
The imp sighed heavily, set the wooden case down, and sat on it, beside the towering ferryman. Donny rolled his eyes. Now two strange beings waited at the door, one tall and gaunt and silent, the other short and squat and muttering complaints to nobody in particular.
• • •
Angela came through the front door an hour later, the case under her arm. “We got the stuff,” she said as Arglbrgl ran around her in circles. “Let’s take a look.”
She set the case on the long table in the main hall, flipped the latches, and swung the lid open. Everything inside was nestled in a thick layer of stringy black moss. She reached into the padding and found her sword in its scabbard. When she pulled the blade partway out, it glowed fiercely. The room was awash in rippling yellow light. She pushed the blade back inside, snuffing the flame. “Much better!”
“GLRGL,” said Arglbrgl.
Next she pulled out what looked like a tall, narrow bottle of dark brown glass. It was sealed with a cork that had a thick ring sticking out of the top. A piece of paper had been taped to the side. Angela read the note and then passed it to Donny.
KNOCKOUT GAS. MAXIMUM POTENCY. PULL THE CORK AND DIRECT IT AT THE ENEMY. DON’T SHOOT INTO YOUR OWN FACE.
“Yeah, let’s not,” Donny said.
Angela found something else: a pouch with tiny jars of demon drops. “Oh look, something extra. I guess they liked the movie.” She handed one jar to Donny and set the pouch aside. Then she dug into the moss again. “Ah, here’s the main attraction.” This item was larger and tucked into a soft pouch like a baby in a papoose. When she extracted it, Donny saw another glass vessel. This one was dark red and shaped like an oversize bowling pin. It was easy to grip at the narrow neck, which was wrapped with leather lace. Another note was taped to the side, and she scanned it and handed it to Donny. This one he read out loud.
“ ‘Fire escape. Immediate access to portal. No incantation necessary. Shatter against solid surface and stand back.’ ” He tried to see within the red glass. It looked like liquid boiling in slow motion. “This is nuts, Angela. What does ‘no incantation necessary’ mean?”
“Don’t be dim, Cricket. I already told you how portals work: you have to prime the site with the flames of the portal you want to use. Then you have to whisper the incantation for the gatekeeper to hear. Those are just some hocus-pocus words in the ancient infernal language. This little cocktail has the portal flames, plus the incantation, plus the fuel to keep a fire going. So whammo, instant fire-portal. Got it?”
“Oh yeah, now that you’ve explained it, it makes total sense,” Donny said. Except that it’s still nuts, he added to himself.
Angela shoved the red vessel back into the pouch, then reached out and put her hand on his wrist. “Donny, I know we’ve gotten into some scary stuff recently. So it’s your choice if you want to come with me or not.”
He took a deep breath. “Where exactly are we going, anyway?”
“It’s in Cyprus.”
“Cyprus? Really?”
“Uh-huh. You know where that is?”
“Um.” Donny tried to picture a map. “In the Mediterranean, right?”
“Correct. Off the coast of Syria and Turkey. Another island.”
Donny had traveled a lot in his short life, even before he’d started to hop the globe with Angela, but he’d never been to any of those places. He remembered things from school: ancient lands. Some of the earliest civilizations. Amazing antiquities and fabulous ruins.
“Why do you think it was islands both times?” he asked.
“If I had to guess? On an island, the soulstreams would converge. Kind of like highways that meet in a city. And both of those islands are historically important, so the stream would be powerful. That makes for good fishing, if you know what I mean.”
Donny nodded, trying to picture the soulstreams coming together. “But you have to find the exact place where the ferryman is stealing, right? And you don’t have Carlos to help you, like in Puerto Rico.”
“We have someone else on the case. Some local specialists—a guy and his brother, who is supersensitive and probably can’t get anywhere near me. Those two will meet us in Cyprus and put us in the vicinity. This time we’ll move more cautiously. This is our last chance to see who’s behind the whole scheme, so we can’t mess up. We’ll stake out the scene for a while and wait for the rogue ferryman to open the portal. If we can make a move, we will. Sound okay?”
Donny thought about it. It sounded like another one of those absurdly dangerous situations. But now, for the first time, he’d been given a choice. And that made all the difference.
“Yes. Sure, I’ll come with you.”
CHAPTER 44
When they opened the front door to leave, Agony the ferryman was still there, as motionless as ever.
Angela shouted up into his face. “Time to go!”
The cloaked head swiveled toward her, making the unpleasant sound of neck bones grinding. Agony nodded. Angela and Donny headed down the road that spiraled around the pillar, and the ferryman followed without a word. He stayed far enough behind that it was easy for Donny and Angela to talk quietly between themselves.
“This is kind of unusual, right?” Donny asked.
“How so?”
Donny looked back at the tall, gaunt figure that strode behind them. “Well, I thought you tried to keep a low profile when you go to Earth. But we have something that looks like the Grim Reaper with us. And you have your flaming sword. And I’m carrying the fire escape, and you’ve got a big bottle of knockout stuff. What if someone sees Agony, or any of the magical things?”
She nodded. “I know what you mean. But these are special circumstances. Apparently, we’re headed for a ghost town of some kind, so we’re not likely to run into any people.”
“Ghost town? There’s a ghost town in Cyprus?”
“Yes. Our contact says it’s a forbidden zone. It’s fenced off and illegal to enter.”
“So of course we’ll go in,” Donny said.
“Makes sense though, right? It’s an easy place to capture souls without getting caught in the act.”
They reached the steps that led to the guarded door. At the top of the steps, Angela paused and waited for the ferryman to join them on the landing. “You don’t talk much,” she told him when he arrived.
Agony let out a slow, hissing breath. “When we find him, leave the ferryman to me.”
“He’s all yours,” Angela replied. She flexed the arm that the last ferryman had broken.
They went down the short passage to where Grunyon guarded the door. Donny wished Grunyon could join them. He had a feeling that, in a fight, Grunyon might be the best warrior of them all.
“Pop Rocks?” Grunyon asked Angela.
“Sorry, buddy, I don’t think we’re going to any stores. Next time though, for sure.”
Grunyon’s helmet drooped a little. He sighed and unlocked the door for them. Angela, Donny, and the ferryman stepped through, and the door closed heavily behind them.
From there it was a short walk to where Porta the gatekeeper sat beside the ruby-red wall of flames. Donny wondered if she ever moved from that spot.
“Mediterranean Sea, island of Cyprus,” Angela told her. Porta worked her magic on the flames. When a globe of the world appeared, she spun it until the Mediterranean was in view and then drew the island of Cyprus closeup. Three lights twinkled on the island.
Angela pointed. “That one. The new one, right by the shore.”
Porta nodded. With a gesture of her hands, she conjured a dark shape within the flames.
“Here we go,” Angela said. Donny followed her through the flimsy barrier of ash.
They stepped into
an old parking garage in a terrible state of decay. The paint on the concrete walls had flaked and peeled. Rusted pipes dangled from the ceiling. There were a few dust-covered cars nearby, all their tires flat.
A man leaned against the hood of one of the cars. He stared in amazement at Angela and Donny. “I didn’t believe it would really happen until I saw it,” he said. He glanced at his watch. “You’re very prompt. I thought it might—” His eyes bugged as he looked past them, at the gas fire that burned against the concrete wall. The ferryman had just stepped through, bending low to fit through the space and then clattering upright, nearly eight feet tall. Agony was terrifying enough, but there was something strange about his appearance here in the mortal realm. He looked blurry, transparent, and not entirely there.
“Don’t mind him,” Angela said cheerfully.
The man threw his hand in front of his eyes and turned his head. He had broken into an instant sweat. “What . . . what is that?”
“Nothing to worry about,” Angela said. She turned to whisper to Agony. “Can you blend into the shadows and stay out of sight? I need to talk to this guy, and you’re freaking him out.” Agony grumbled and moved to a shadowy area of the garage, behind a thick pillar. Donny watched, amazed, as the ferryman fused with the darkness. It was like pouring ink into coffee. As long as Agony avoided the light, he was nearly invisible.
“He’s gone now,” Angela called to the man. “And besides, he won’t hurt you.”
The fellow peered between his fingers as he slowly turned around. He looked left and right, searching for any trace of the ferryman. Finally he relaxed enough to speak, although his voice quavered. He spoke with a gentle accent. “I should have been prepared for anything, I suppose. Forgive me for being such a coward. You are Angela, I assume?”
“And he’s Donny. You’re Osman?”
“I am. It is nice to meet you both. And to see you, Angela, after only hearing your voice until now.” Osman had a likeable face, with a dense crop of dark hair and a broad mustache. He was dressed for stealth, in dark jeans and a black long-sleeve shirt. A camera bag was slung over his shoulder.
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