by Tanya Huff
Kris found the strength for another yank at the chains. “So do something!”
“Like what?” Diana demanded, sagging back against the rough rock. “If I reach into the possibilities to free us, I break one of the big Rules. If I break a big Rule, that opens the way for them to break a big Rule and you really don’t want that to happen.”
“Hey! Read my lips, I really don’t want to be tortured either!”
“So you do something!”
“You’re the freakin’ wizard!” Kris slapped her chains against the wall for emphasis.
“It’s Keeper! Now stop yelling at me and let me think! Just because you couldn’t come up with something useful doesn’t mean I can’t!”
Their breathing sounded unnaturally loud in the silence that followed.
Finally, Diana sighed. “Sorry. It’s just…”
“Yeah. I know.”
She turned to see Kris frightened and battered but almost smiling at her.
“You’re supposed to be saving the world, not just hangin’ around here with me.”
“For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here. Not, here…here.” Diana winced as Kris’ eyebrows rose. “I mean, I’m glad I’m not alone.”
“For what it’s worth, I’d rather you were.”
Diana sighed again as Kris returned to yanking the chain. This was not going well on a number of levels; personal, professional, and probably a few other “p” words she’d come up with later. If they had a later.
They’d been chained in an alcove hacked out of the limestone walls not far from the throne room. Chained and abandoned; they hadn’t seen meat-minds or bugs since.
“How long do you think we’ve been here?”
Diana twisted her wrist until she could see her watch. “About six minutes.”
“Seems longer.”
“Yeah.”
The torches across from their alcove flickered although the air was still. In the distance, something screamed.
“So, about those Rules.”
When Diana turned, Kris’ expression announced I’m not fuckin’ scared as loudly as if she was shouting the words. The profanity was particularly obvious. “You want me to tell you about them now?”
Her upper lip curled. “You going somewhere?”
“Well, no.” Maybe defining a few metaphysical parameters was just the kind of distraction they needed. Maybe not, but it was all she had. Kris didn’t seem like the type to be interested in “the cute things my cat’s done lately” or what Ms. Harris and the graduating president of the chess club had been doing with two tubes of acrylic paint and a number three sable in the art supply closet on the last day of school. Which had only been…? Diana counted back. She’d traveled to Kingston on Friday; the same day school’d ended. They’d crossed over into the Otherside mall on Saturday. Was it still Saturday and, if so, which Saturday? That whole “time was relative” thing made her want to hurl—although in this instance the urge to hurl likely had more to do with the bug leg—arm? limb?—that had impacted with her stomach. Bruises were rising even…
“Hey!” Part summons, part protest, it yanked her wandering attention back to the alcove.
“Right. The Rules. The uh, the Rules impose order on the chaos of metaphysics. Magic,” she amended catching sight of bravado becoming impatience. “Right here and now, the biggest Rule to remember is that the Otherside is neutral ground, so neither good nor evil can control it.”
“Why would evil give a shit?”
“‘Because when you break the Rules, you sow the seeds of your own destruction. That’s also in the Rules.”
Kris snorted. “I think I read it in a fortune cookie.”
“Could have.” The lineage liked to spread the platitudes around.
“Although I’m sure it would be all awe inspiring or something if we weren’t chained to a fuckin’ wall.”
Diana thought about it for a moment, squinting up at the flakes of rust raining off the eyebolt as she yanked her chain against it. “Probably not,” she admitted.
“So what about that whole ‘bad guys gotta gloat’ thing?”
“Just basic psychology according to my mother. What’s the point of being an evil genius if there’s no one to tell?”
“No point, I guess.”
They hung in silence for a few minutes, then Kris muttered, “That dude on the throne, he didn’t seem like the genius type.”
“He didn’t seem like much of anything,” Diana agreed. As far as a meeting of good and evil was concerned, it was kind of a nonevent. “The bugs were cool, in an oh, gross, get it off me, get it off me kind of way, but he was bland. Boring. Disappointing, even.”
“Except that, you know, he won.”
“Yeah. Except for that.”
Off to the left of their alcove, claws skittered against stone, evoking an interlude of panicked struggles to be free. After a while, when the claws came no closer, both girls relaxed.
“It’s the fuckin’ waiting,” Kris snarled, kicking at the wall with the heel of her cross trainers. “Why didn’t they just whack us and get it over with?”
“I think they need us for something.”
“What? Getting their rocks off while we get peeled?”
Diana considered that for a moment. “No,” she decided at last, “that’s too direct for the Otherside.” The first time she’d crossed over, Claire had tried to make her understand that the shortest distance between two points was usually the long way around. Then she’d added that Diana was never, ever to think about the Smurf village again. Their mother had been furious about all the blue gunk on their shoes. “Plans on this side are always a lot twistier.”
“Okay, so if you breaking a Rule lets them break a Rule, then maybe they’re putting you in a spot where you gotta break a Rule to get free. You know, so they can break a Rule.”
Diana turned to stare at the other girl. “That’s brilliant.”
“Don’t sound so fuckin’ surprised,” Kris snorted. Her eyes widened. “Wait; you mean I’m right?”
“Probably.”
“Wicked.”
“Although it’s insulting that they think I’d break the Rules just to escape torture and death.”
“’Cause that’s not a good reason?”
“No.”
’Keepers could lie to Bystanders without breaking a sweat. To balance that, they could speak the kind of Truth that went straight to the heart.
Kris stared at her for a long moment. Then nodded. “Right.” And another long moment. “Okay. So, now how long have we been here?”
“Since the last time, about another eight minutes. Fourteen minutes all together.”
“Seems like longer.”
“Yeah.”
“Looking on the bright side, it’s a lot cooler down here.”
“Cooler than what?”
“Than it is back home.”
“Your home?”
“Yeah.”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“Right.”
One of the torches sputtered, almost went out, then began to burn steadily once again. They could hear nothing but their own hearts beating. Smell nothing but themselves and each other.
“What’s your mother like?” Kris threw the question out like a challenge.
“What?”
“Your mother. You said she was into that psychological shit. What’s she like?”
Diana shrugged as well as her position allowed. “She’s a Cousin.”
“Your mother’s your cousin? That’s got a whole unexpected squick thing goin’.”
“Not my cousin. A Cousin. It’s kind of an auxiliary Keeper. Less powerful.”
“You’re more powerful than your old lady?”
“I’m more powerful than the entire lineage. All the Cousins. All the Keepers.”
“And how’s that workin’ for you?” Kris snickered.
Bugs. Chains. Torture. “Not real well.”
“You look like her?”
; “Not really, Claire and I both look like our dad which is kind of funny in a way because Claire’s so little and he’s n…”
“He’s what?”
Diana chewed on her lip. She almost had it. “You’ve been fighting the darkside in this mall for a while now, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Have you seen any women, human-looking women, fighting on their side?”
“No. Sexist bastards. They think a sister can’t be evil enough? They never met my Nana, that’s for sure.”
“Do they ever take any of the elves prisoners?”
“No.”
“So if they’re going to chain something up, they’d be chaining up their own guys.”
Kris glanced up at the chains, then back at Diana. “Okay, but why would they do that?”
“They’re evil.”
“Right.”
“And all of their guys are a lot bigger than we are.”
“Yeah.”
“And these manacles are two solid halves of iron. Not adjustable. In order to hold their guys, they’ve got to be a certain size.” Diana folded her thumb in against her palm and slid her right hand free. “They’re too big to hold us.” Sliding out her left hand, she beckoned to Kris. “Come on.”
“But…”
“I’m out, aren’t I?”
Frowning, Kris worked at her lower lip with her teeth and slowly slipped both hands free. “So how come they were holding us?”
“Because we believed they would.” It was twistier than that, but not really by much.
“If that’s a Rule, it’s a fuckin’ stupid Rule.”
“So not arguing here.”
They stepped out of the alcove together, but as Diana began to turn right, Kris’ fingers closed around her arm, dragging her to the left with a terse, “Come on.”
Diana dug in her heels. “No. We need to go the other way.”
“Delusional much? We need to get back and warn the others.” Her grip tightened. “That guy, he said they were being dealt with.”
“Except that we don’t know how time’s running in that end of the mall. They might’ve been dealt with days ago.”
In the barely adequate light from the torches, Kris’ eyes looked completely black with no differentiation between iris and pupil. “Then it might not have happened yet.” She gave Diana’s arm an impatient shake. “We need to get back and help them! I’m Arthur’s captain. I need to be there.”
If anyone could understand the pull of responsibility, it was a Keeper. Still…“There’s nothing you can do. You…we, have to trust that Claire handled it. Can handle it. Will handle it.” She wanted to sound comforting but suspected she sounded as though she were trying to convince herself. “Besides, she has Sam with her.”
“And what’s he supposed to do?”
“Probably nothing, but that’s not the point. The point is I have to go on. The anchor’s that way and unless we at least get a look at it, we don’t know any more than we did when we left.”
Kris shook her head. “We know there’s an old white guy in charge—big surprise—and he’s got bugs.”
“But that tells us nothing.”
“It tells me I should be hauling my ass—and yours—out of here.”
“No. You can haul your own—I can’t make you come with me—but I’m going farther in.” Diana pulled her arm free and half turned; enough to make her choice of direction obvious but not enough to turn her back on the other girl.
“It would help if I knew…” Kris drew her lower lip in between her teeth; the most vulnerable move Diana had seen her make. “It would help if I knew if he was still alive.”
“Look, whatever the processed cheese spread of evil out there is planning, it definitely hasn’t gone down because if Arthur was dead, things would be happening.”
“Things?”
“Things. Bad things.”
Kris’ gesture covered the alcove, the chains, and the general dungeonlike tone of the décor. “Worse than this?”
“Much. Season finale of Buffy kind of worse.”
“Which season?”
“Does it matter?”
“I guess not.”
Right or left, the passage looked identical; equally grim, equally foreboding.
“Look at the bright side,” Diana offered after a moment, “When they discover that we’ve escaped, they’ll never think of searching for us deeper in their territory. They’ll assume we headed out.”
“That’s because they’re not as stupid as they look and we are.” She drew in a deep breath, slowly releasing both it and Diana’s arm. “Fine. Let’s get going, then. Standing around ‘looking at the bright side…’”
She had the most sarcastic air quotes Diana had ever seen.
“…is exactly the sort of shit that calls wandering mons…Where are you going?”
“Farther in.”
“Fine.” A none too gentle shove pushed Diana up against the wall and out of the way. “I’m the one with the pointy ears. I’m out in front.”
“And that’s connected how?”
“Ears. Elf. Never get lost. Unless you don’t want to eventually find your way out?”
“We may have to go all the way in to get out.”
Kris shot her a look, equal parts irritation and exasperation, as she pushed by. “Man, I am so not envying your cat if this is the shit he has to put up with.”
* * *
Sam raced past and disappeared behind the winter coats as Claire slowed to avoid trampling the elf on guard at the entrance between the cosmetic counters. It seemed as though he might try to stop her but clearly thought better of it as he got a closer look at her face.
“Shit, Keeper…”
“Arthur!” She spat out the name. “Where is he?”
“Large Appliances.”
“And that’s where?”
“Straight to Children’s Shoes, hang a right, then a left at Women’s Accessories and straight to the back. You want I should sound the alarm?”
“No.” The alarm would only warn the assassin she was coming. Hopping on first one foot then the other, she slipped her sandals off—bare feet would make a lot less noise—then, hiking her skirt up above her knees, lengthened her stride.
Children’s Shoes, Women’s Accessories…The floor was cold, and the air smelled like overheated Teflon, like someone had left a nonstick frying pan on the stove and not realized the burner was still hot. As she ran, Claire hoped the smell was seeping through from the other mall. She didn’t like the implications if it wasn’t.
She could hear voices up ahead.
Arthur asked a question about fabric softener.
One of the elves snickered.
A cat screamed.
Sam.
Heart racing, she tried to remind herself that cats screamed as much for effect as affect and were as likely to scream in rage as in pain. It didn’t help. Death of the Immortal King, successful segue, end of the world aside, if Sam got hurt, Diana was going to kill her.
Large Appliances. Buy the washer; get one hundred dollars off the ticketed price of the dryer.
Sam crouched on top of a washing machine, tail lashing, fur straight up along his spine, ears clamped tight to his skull. He didn’t look injured. He didn’t sound injured. He sounded like a cross between a rabid raccoon and a civil defense siren.
Arthur had his sword out.
Facing them both was…at first Claire thought it was the shadow of the assassin, then it moved, an almost fluid flow from one shape to another, and she realized it was shadow and it was the assassin.
The shadow feinted right; Arthur moved with it, keeping his blade between them.
The shadow rose up ten, fifteen feet, stretched into a thin line, then whipped forward. Arthur dove out of the way, one hand reaching out to the mall elf beside him and dragging her behind a free-standing dishwasher.
Claire pulled a length of white thread from her belt pouch, tied two quick knots, and threw it into
the darkness.
It froze, shivered once, shifted shape, and turned toward the Keeper, the thread anchoring it in place. Given the power pulling against it, the thread wouldn’t hold long.
Shrieking a challenge, Sam launched himself off the washing machine.
It arched just enough of itself out of the way.
Rising up on one knee, Arthur swung. Missed. Leaped to his feet. Swung. Missed. Nearly had his head taken off by a sudden side shot. Got his sword around in time to cut off a piece eight inches long by about three inches in diameter. It hit the floor, flattened, and shimmied its way almost too fast to follow back into its dark bulk.
Claire winced. That’s not good.
The thread was beginning to give.
Light could defeat it. Shadows disappeared in the light.
Unfortunately, the closest thing to a light source was in the refrigerator beside her and it went off when the door closed.
…door…
It could work. If she could get it to chase her. If the shelves hadn’t been put into the refrigerator. If she hit the back of the fridge with time enough to set a second path.
An ice cream scoop flew through the center of the shadow, whistled past her arm close enough for her to feel the breeze, and clattered off white enamel. The good news; the cavalry had arrived. The bad news; it was half a dozen mall elves with slingshots and bats. They couldn’t have brought flashlights?
“Careful!” Arthur’s voice rising above the sudden babble.
And a voice out of the babble. “Fuck! What is this thing?”
“An assassin!” Claire snapped. “It’s here to kill Arthur, but it’ll just as happily take any of you. Don’t let it touch you; it’ll suck your life out through any exposed skin!” If she’d thought—suspected even—that they’d be fighting shadow, she’d have brought along some lotion with an SPF of at least 30. Rummaging in the belt pouch, she pulled out her compact. “Get back! All of you. You, too, Arthur. In fact, you especially.”
He shook blue-black hair off his face. “Your spell will not hold it for much longer, wizard. I would rather be facing it and ready to fight when it breaks free than running away with my back exposed.”
“Fine.” He had a point. “Then back away, but give me some room to work and try to remember that you must stay alive.”
“What are you planning, Keeper?”
