Revenge of the Evil Librarian

by Michelle Knudsen

  I make the introductions for my friends’ sake — no need to really spell out for them how Peter was creepily and invisibly lurking around for a while at the beginning — as we head toward the backstage door.

  Once backstage, everyone spreads out, just a little, to look around. Leticia peeks at the stage from the wings.

  “Cyn, is this your design? It’s incredible! I love all the different heights and the color scheme and all the pointy bits!”

  I can’t help smiling, despite everything. “Hey, no peeking! You should wait to see it from the front, during the show, as it is intended to be seen.” Because we will totally still be alive then, and so that will be possible. “Also, keep your voice down. Trust me, you do not want the director to come back here and yell at us.”

  Peter backs me up on this. “Yeah, he’s a total dick. We prefer to keep him out of our domain as much as possible.”

  I bring Peter up to speed on what has happened since breakfast, and I fill in the gaps in the story for everyone else — Peter’s hitchhiking, Mr. Gabriel’s tether-hijacking, my second trip the demon world, and how Mr. G’s brother came back to camp with me. I also tell them about the plan for later.

  “You should probably go back to your hotel until it’s all over,” I say.

  They all look at one another, and I feel an argument coming on.

  “I would rather stay,” Annie says. “I don’t want to be hiding under a bed somewhere in the dark, waiting to find out what happens.”

  “I’m with Annie,” Diane says. Leticia and William nod to indicate their solidarity with this position.

  “Guys,” I say, “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I don’t know how things are going to go later. I don’t want you in harm’s way.”

  “Cyn,” Diane says, “you can’t keep trying to protect people by pushing them away. And besides”— she grins at me —“who do you think you are? Our mother? You can’t tell us what to do. We want to stay. We’re going to stay. Stop arguing.”

  I look at Peter, but he puts his hands up as if in surrender. “Don’t look at me. They’re your friends. And honestly, I don’t mind saying that increasing our numbers feels like a good thing. Even if they’re only here for moral support.”

  I look back at the others, who are now standing with arms crossed, the embodiment of stubbornness.

  “Fine,” I say, since it doesn’t look like they’re going to give me much choice. “But you better not do anything brave or stupid.”

  I intercept Ryan and Jules on their way to lunch and steer them to bunk 6 instead, where Peter and the others are waiting. Ryan hugs Annie and Leticia and Diane hello, and acknowledges William with a friendly “Hey, man.” He introduces Jules, and although the other girls are textbook polite in their responses, it warms my heart to see the frosty glances they give her on my behalf. I want to hug them all again myself.

  “So, what do we do now?” Peter asks. “Just wait to be attacked?”

  “I’ve been thinking about that,” Ryan says. “It seems to me that we can choose our battlefield if we want to. I mean, they’re going to have to come to us wherever we are, right?”

  “That’s true,” Peter says, perking up at this realization. “Did you have someplace in mind?”

  “It so happens that I do,” Ryan says.

  And that is how we all end up in the middle of the soccer field that evening after dinner. (We were pretty sure the demons wouldn’t come for us in the middle of the dining hall, and it seemed like a good idea to ingest some protein and carbs before heading into battle.)

  There’s a full moon tonight, which is both appropriate and very handy, since the overhead lights of the soccer field are of course turned off in the absence of a game happening, and turning them on ourselves would draw unwanted attention. I’ve got my magic fan, and Peter has his vial of demon-strength juice or whatever it is. He’s going to wait until the last possible second to drink it, which seems wise, since Aaron never said how long it would last. Ryan has the kitchen shears so we can cut the tether again after Mr. Gabriel has been sent back to hell where he belongs. Also, I think he just feels better carrying a weapon.

  We sit in a circle in the very center of the field, facing out. Waiting. The soccer field was a brilliant idea; we’ll be able to see the demons coming, and there’s plenty of room to spread out if we need to. I have to admit it’s useful to have four extra pairs of eyes in Annie, William, Leticia, and Diane, but I still hate that my friends are all here, right where all the bad things are going to happen. And Jules is here, too, obviously, with her pair of eyes as well, but I was already resigned to her having to be here. And also less worried about her well-being.

  Suddenly I hear a sharp intake of breath from behind me, and Leticia’s voice whispering, “Holy crap.”

  We all jump to our feet and turn to look.

  Little Brother has appeared at the far side of the field.

  “Do you think Mr. Gabriel is already inside him?” I ask Peter.

  “No,” he says. “I doubt it. I think he’ll wait until the last possible second, like I will with the vial. He’s not going to want to waste one bit of his strength.”

  The demons (I can only assume Mr. Gabriel is floating evilly and invisibly somewhere beside his brother) approach slowly. Probably to draw out the horrible anticipation, since our fear will only make them stronger. I want to believe that the leg Hector damaged the other day is slowing them down, but I don’t see any sign of an injury. It’s probably healed by now.

  “Oh, my God, it’s literally a monster,” Diane says. She sounds fascinated despite herself. “And so big. And also very disgusting.”

  “No wonder Mr. Gabriel never mentioned him,” Annie adds.

  “Guys,” I say, “I think this is a good time for you to not be standing right here.”

  “Okay,” Leticia says at once. She grabs Diane’s hand and Annie’s hand and jerks her head at William to include him, too. “Let’s go. We’ll just sit somewhere over there.” They head for the bleachers, not running, but not exactly strolling, either.

  Jules and Ryan should be going with them, but Ryan has already made it clear that he won’t be leaving, and so of course that means Jules won’t be leaving, too.

  Peter takes out the vial and looks at me.

  “Wow. I am really, really scared right now,” he says. “I sure hope this works.”

  “Me, too,” I say back. “On both counts.”

  Although . . . while it’s true that I am scared (I mean, obviously), I realize I’m not nearly as scared as I was when I was facing my first demon battle. That time I was alone. This time . . . I think about Mr. Henry humming “Safety in Numbers” in my dream. Okay, safety would be a stretch, but it’s definitely fortifying to have friends around at a time like this. Especially one who is about to transform into something huge and powerful and (hopefully) very deadly.

  “What do you look like in your true form?” I ask Peter. We’re still watching Little Brother approach. He is kind of taking forever about it. “Are you gross?”

  “No, I’m not gross,” Peter says, glaring at me. “What a thing to say.”

  “Sorry.” I guess that wasn’t very tactful.

  “Hey, guys,” Ryan says, coming over to stand beside me. “I think now might be a good time to get all the way ready, yeah?”

  “Yeah,” Peter says. “Watch out, everybody.”

  He opens the vial and downs the contents in one swallow.

  “Ugh,” he says, tossing the empty vial to the grass. “Tastes like cherry NyQuil.” Then his human outline starts to . . . dissolve. And he starts to get bigger. Fast.

  The rest of us back away, staring. I notice that Mr. Gabriel’s brother has paused in his approach to watch as well.

  Peter throws his head back and his limbs seem to shoot outward, growing translucent. I hope he’s not going to have tentacles. I hate those. I also suddenly wonder if it hurts him to make this transformation. I never thought to ask.

&nbs
p; It certainly doesn’t look very comfortable.

  He continues to grow, and his outline re-forms in a new, much larger shape. His head begins to resemble that of an enormous horse, although the resemblance gets a little shaky once the huge, shiny, pointy antlers begin reaching up and out from between his ears. His arms have become graceful equine legs, but the hooves have long curved spikes arcing up and forward from their edges. The rest of him looks sort of like a dragon, with strong, powerful hind legs covered in green-black scales, rear feet sporting razorlike talons, and a long tail that splits into three thick yet oddly delicate-looking strands, each tapering to a deathly sharp point.

  He was telling the truth. He’s definitely not gross. He’s by far the most attractive demon-in-demon-form I’ve ever seen. Luminous and glorious and just . . . just . . .

  “Wow,” Jules says admiringly, staring up at him. “He’s way better than a spider-bull.”

  “Totally,” I can’t help breathing in response. He’s like a beautiful antlery dragon-pony made of magic.

  He’s stopped masking his aura, and it shines strongly out, representing, I hope, a vast reservoir of strength and power that he will very shortly use to smite our horrible enemies.

  Mr. Gabriel’s brother has resumed his creeping progress and is finally getting close. I still don’t think Mr. Gabriel has taken possession. I wonder suddenly if maybe it’s not too late to stop that from happening.

  “You know he’s not going to give you your body back once he’s in there,” I call out to the approaching monster. “He’s just using you. He’s going to steal your body and cast you aside.”

  “Liar,” Little Brother says, turning his inhuman eyes to me. “We will fight as one. And win as one. And drink your blood as one and have your friend as one and return home to rule our land as one. You tell lies, like all roaches do.”

  “Look who’s talking, bug-boy,” Ryan mutters beside me.

  The demon shudders suddenly and stops his advance. “Yes,” he whispers to some unheard question, and he straightens just as a burst of red demon energy seems to settle into him. And then he seems to become confused, shaking his head back and forth and stumbling slightly. There is a struggle going on, and it’s not the one he anticipated. His eyes roll in what I want to interpret as fear, although it’s really hard to tell with those insect features. I almost feel sorry for him.

  Almost.

  Then he stops, and straightens again, and even with the inhuman face, I can tell that Mr. Gabriel has taken over.

  “Trying to turn my own brother against me,” he says to me, and I hear Annie gasp from the bleachers. There’s no mistaking the change now. “I should have expected nothing less from you.”

  “Is he still in there?” I ask. “Are you pushing him down somewhere deep inside himself, or have you just pushed him out entirely?”

  “He’s still here,” Mr. Gabriel says, almost fondly. “He was telling the truth about everything we will do as one. He won’t be in control, of course, but I’ll probably still let him come up and sample all the upcoming delights. Including killing all of you. Except for Annie, of course. Annie we get for dessert. Forever.”

  “I told you, you will never touch her again,” I say in a low, barely controlled voice, meaning every word with all my heart.

  “Okay!” Peter says. “Enough talking. Get out of the way, please. I need to kill this guy.”

  We get out of the way, running back over to the bleachers, where the others are watching in horrified silence. As we run, I feel Peter take hold of my strength, and I realize suddenly in panic that I never took back the protection I lent to Annie and the others. I’m not even truly sure I know how to take it back, but I yank blindly at it, no time to be gentle, sorry, guys, and use the momentum that comes with it to push it toward Peter instead.

  And then I sit down heavily. I’ll never get used to that feeling of having it all borrowed at once that way. God, I hate this. I feel so weak and exposed.

  “You okay?” Ryan whispers, instantly at my side.

  “Yeah. It’s just . . . to say it takes a lot out of me when someone borrows my power like that would be an understatement of ridiculous proportions.”

  In the battle for the demon throne, pretty much all of the fighting was done using each demon’s power-essence, which is why my protection was so important to the demoness. This battle is apparently going to be a bit more down and dirty. Meaning, in addition to the inner demony magic strength, they’re going to be using their physical strength as well.

  The two demons (we’ll consider Mr. Gabriel and his brother one demon for our current purposes, since, physically at least, they are) circle each other a few times, looking each other over. They’re about the same size, although if you count all the legs, I think Mr. Gabriel’s brother might be a little bit bigger overall. Their auras seem to be about the same intensity, but I can’t be sure anymore that I’m really seeing all there is to see in that regard. For all I know, Mr. Gabriel is masking part of his energy to make me think he’s weaker than he is. I can see that Peter’s demon aura coats his outer edges, and I’m guessing that’s to help protect against the spider’s delayed poison thing that laid Peter out the first time they faced each other.

  It’s all up to Peter now. Until he gives me the signal that Mr. Gabriel is on the run, all I can do is watch, and wait.

  And worry.

  Peter lifts one of his front hooves toward the other demon. “You,” Peter says in a deeper, less-human version of his regular voice, “are going to pay for what you did to Hector, you spidery bastard. Can you hear me in there, Little Brother? I’m going to tear you apart.”

  With a roar, Mr. Gabriel throws himself forward, leaping into the air and grasping at Peter with all of his many disgusting limbs. Peter slashes at the other demon with his hooves and tail, and after a moment Mr. Gabriel backs off again. Peter makes the next advance, striking out with all his sharp appendages, but Mr. Gabriel encircles him with his legs again, effectively wrapping Peter too tightly in enemy body parts to get enough leverage to do any damage. They struggle against each other and then pull apart yet again.

  It continues this way, one or the other leaping forward, attacking with limbs, teeth, pincers, and/or antlers as well as the red energy that flows from both of them at every extremity. Mr. Gabriel howls in pain as Peter manages to completely slice off the tip of one of his legs, but a few minutes later Peter screams as Mr. Gabriel’s teeth sink deeply into his shoulder.

  It’s excruciating to watch and not be able to do anything. They seem evenly matched, even with all the extra strength that the demoness gave Peter and with my extra protection. I remind myself that Peter is not by nature a fighter. Not this kind of fighter, anyway. He hates this kind of thing. Whereas Mr. Gabriel and his misguided but very deadly little brother live for it. They love to hurt and maim and kill. They probably don’t even mind all the pain that comes with it. Mr. Gabriel is completely in his element here and enjoying every minute. And it starts to become clear that he’s winning.

  I look at Ryan, and I can see he’s thinking the same thing.

  Peter is giving it everything he has, but I don’t think it’s going to be enough. With each new clashing of bodies, Peter comes away a little slower, a little less bright with red power. Mr. Gabriel barely seems diminished at all. He throws himself at Peter again and again, becoming more and more exuberant, and Peter falls back and falls back, clearly beginning to focus more on defending himself against Mr. Gabriel’s attacks than launching attacks of his own.

  As I watch, Peter shoots me an agonized glance. He knows he’s not going to win.

  Annie reaches over and grips my shoulder tightly. William is beside her, an arm around her shoulders. I think seeing Mr. Gabriel in his brother’s body helped her let go of whatever lingering revulsion she was feeling from having seen her evil demon stalker inside her sweet human boyfriend. Leticia and Diane are holding each other’s hands tightly, staring silently at the ongoing battle b
efore them. Jules sits grimly on the other side of Ryan, watching along with the rest of us.

  This isn’t going to work. We have to do something. I look at my fan, but it’s useless until Mr. Gabriel is out of his brother’s body. I see Ryan’s eyes flick down to the shears, and I poke him in the side and shake my head at him. Attacking Mr. Gabriel with those would barely hurt him and would almost certainly get Ryan killed. And that’s not something that is allowed to happen. It’s true that my months-ago deal with Mr. Gabriel required him to promise he wouldn’t hurt or kill Ryan or let any other demons do so, either. But I have no idea what effect Mr. Gabriel’s mostly-death might have had on the terms of the deal, or whether he’s still bound by it when he’s using someone else’s body. I’m not about to let Ryan chance it. Especially not when the shears can’t possibly make a difference, anyway.

  If only Peter were just a little stronger, a little more of a fighter, a little more of the type of demon who liked this kind of thing. As much as I appreciate his theatrical leanings and his incredible talent as a writer and composer, right now none of that is doing us any good at all. He can’t even really draw strength from the few injuries he’s managing to inflict upon his opponent, because that’s just not the sort of power he feeds upon.

  I sit up suddenly, seized by an idea.

  Peter doesn’t feed upon pain and killing and torture. He feeds upon drama. Which means, if we could somehow deliver some of that to him right now, it could give him the strength he needs.

  Peter said real-life drama is better than fictional drama. Which is maybe good, since I don’t think staging an impromptu performance of The King and I is really a valid option right now. But I know of a little ready-to-hand real-life drama that won’t take long to access at all. If I’m willing to go there.

  And . . . I have to be. Because if Peter doesn’t win this fight, then nothing else is going to matter, anyway.

  But I still really, really don’t want to. Not now, not after everything Ryan said about building back trust and how long it might be before we’re really, really okay again.