Satan's Mirror

by Roxanne Smolen

  A dog sidled up, and Joey startled.

  “Ride,” the voice said.

  Balls shriveling with aversion, Joey climbed onto its back. His feet hung down on either side, barely clearing the ground. The beast took off immediately, its loping gait threatening to unseat him. Balanced upon the hound’s wide shoulders, he searched the horizon for Emily Goodman.

  THIRTY-SIX

  The others insisted Emily rest while they hunted for her fallen arrows. She watched their silhouettes circle through the smog, feeling uncomfortable. If not for their intervention, she would be having her bones picked clean by the harpy right now. It was clear she could not reach the castle alone. On the other hand, she didn’t want to feel responsible for anyone. She hated the reverence the three people showed her. They deferred to her as if she were someone special.

  Still musing, Emily scrubbed her face with gravel, hoping to scrape off some of the stink. She examined the broken beak she’d used to stab the harpy. The serrated edge was as sharp as a steak knife. She used it to cut out the beaks of all three birds, yielding six weapons.

  By the time the others returned, she’d mended the strap of her torn quiver. They found all but one of the arrows. Emily handed them the bird beaks, which they accepted with the gravity of a death mark. The woman especially struck Emily with her somberness as she hefted a knife in each hand. Her expression held at once a resignation to violence and a desire for retaliation.

  Side by side, the band of four walked away from the slaughtered harpies. The terrain sloped in gentle swells. Emily could make out the red smudge on the horizon marking the lake of fire, which she found encouraging. At least they were going in the right direction.

  “If we’re going to be traveling together,” she said, “I suppose we should know each other’s names. I’m Emily Goodman.”

  “My name is Gun,” said the naked man. “I’m from California.”

  “Beautiful country.”

  “Yeah,” he said wistfully. “I used to take my bike up in the mountains on those narrow, winding roads and really open her up. You know. Feel like I was flying. I guess I must have wiped out or something. I remember bright light, and when I woke up, I was face to face with my first demon.”

  “I take it you were in the castle.”

  He looked sidelong at her. “Not a good place.”

  Emily bristled, thinking he meant to talk her out of her mission. “I have business there.”

  “So I figured.”

  “You don’t have to come with me.”

  “I figured that, too.” He held her gaze for a moment.

  Emily looked away. She’d wanted to talk about the castle, get the layout, another perspective on what to expect. Now all she wanted was to change the subject.

  She turned her attention to the woman. “What’s your name?”

  The woman didn’t answer, just kept plodding forward as if lost in thought.

  “I call her Starshine,” Gun said. “She can’t remember her name. Couldn’t speak at all when we first met up.”

  Emily blinked in surprise. “You didn’t know each other before?”

  “I wish. She’s a good woman. She might have helped me turn my life around.”

  They looked like a married couple—an average, married couple living in hell. Who would have thought a person could find love in such a place.

  “I do not recall my name as well,” said the man wearing the hide. “But I believe I was a learned man. A religious man. Perhaps a monk or a friar.”

  “Friar Tuck?” Gun looked up expectantly, as if he’d dubbed him the perfect name.

  The man ignored his comment. “I do not know why my Lord would wish to punish me so.”

  Emily wanted to tell him it had nothing to do with the Lord, nothing to do with punishment. She doubted he would believe her. “What if we call you Brother?”

  He bowed his head, murmuring in a broken voice. “Thank you.”

  They walked in silence for a distance. Then Emily surprised herself by blurting, “What’s this about a dark angel?”

  “That’s what we figure you are,” Gun said.

  “Dark Angels are Heaven’s warriors,” said Brother. “They exact God’s retribution. It has long been hoped that one such as yourself would come to avenge us and end our suffering.”

  Her jaw dropped. “You think I’m part of a fairytale?”

  “It’s more legend than tale.”

  Emily sputtered. She wanted to say she was nobody, just a mother looking for her child—but the admission was so personal, so painful she couldn’t bear to voice the words. “I’m not interested in freeing souls. I’m here to kill demons,” she said, then stopped, noticing the smug satisfaction on Brother’s face. Lowering her voice, she said, “Stick with me and I’m liable to get you killed too.”

  “We’re already dead,” Gun put in.

  “You’re not dead, and you’re not helpless. You can fight back. You can get out of here.”

  “The tunnels in the sky. Yeah, the friar told us. I don’t see the connection.”

  Emily bit her tongue. She didn’t offer Chastity’s contention that hell was a resort in a different dimension. It would be like trading fairytales.

  Distant shouts traveled the scorching breeze. Emily motioned for the others to follow. She crept up the hill and dropped to one knee.

  Six people appeared out of the haze and glare. They ran as if for their lives. One man fell and another ran right over him. Emily was about to comment when she heard a sharp, clicking sound.

  A shiny, dark wave crested the next hill and rolled down the side. Within seconds it engulfed the fallen man. His hand clawed the air and then disappeared in darkness. The wave caught the running people, knocking them to the ground and quickly smothering them. Their bodies deflated as if consumed.

  Starshine screamed. “We must flee.”

  “Too late for that,” Gun yelled. “Look!”

  Emily climbed to her feet, horrorstruck as the black, glistening mass spread over the valley and started up the hill toward her. It slid off the fallen man. He was nothing but blood and bones. As the mass rolled nearer, the clicking sound became deafening. She wanted to cover her ears and scream.

  Instead, she tore the hellhound hide off Brother and spread it on the ground. “Come on. Hurry!” She stepped onto the fur.

  The others leapt beside her just as the mass crested the hill.

  Now she could see it was beetles—millions of scarab beetles scuttling over one another in their lust for human flesh. Their dark shells glimmered with crimson daylight, making them look like red-black liquid spilling over the ground.

  But as they reached the hound hide, they parted, passing to within inches of either side. Emily stood petrified, afraid to take so much as a breath. She felt grateful her gamble worked but was unwilling to relax too soon. Brother moaned. Starshine trembled beside her. Gun’s eyes were wide and unblinking.

  It seemed to take a long time, but finally the beetles moved on, disappearing in the haze. The newfound friends remained huddled on the hide.

  “I’ve heard of Shadow Eaters,” Brother whispered, “but I have never seen them.”

  “I have,” said Gun. “I ran like hell.”

  “Why did the fur protect us?” asked Starshine.

  In a hoarse voice, Emily said, “You’ve never seen them eat a dog, have you?”

  She moved away, keeping her back to the others, hoping they wouldn’t see her trembling. The six bodies were barely more than skeletons. Bloody remnants of sinew and muscle streaked the bones.

  They never had a chance. How do you outrun a carpet of flesh-eating insects? The poor souls. May they rest in peace.

  Then, like something out of a nightmare, one of the skeletons moved. Emily grimaced with mounting horror as the bony hand reached over the ground and pulled its tattered body forward. Another rolled onto its back, spilling what remained of its innards onto the ground.

  Brother stepped beside her, placing h
is hand upon her shoulder. “Look away.”

  But Emily could not look away. She was mired in the gruesomeness of the place, her eyes seared indelibly with images she couldn’t turn off.

  “What should we do with them?” Gun asked quietly.

  “Nothing,” she said. “We can’t help them.”

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  The hills steepened. Emily climbed woodenly, beyond exhaustion, holding an image of her daughter in her mind to keep herself moving. She crested each hill in a crouch so she could gaze down the other side, afraid of what might lurk there—hellhounds, harpies, flesh-eating bugs.

  But all she saw was an increasing number of people. They lumbered in groups or in caravans, maimed and disfigured. Most took no notice of her. Others, however, halted in their tracks, staring or whispering, watching her over their shoulders. It embarrassed her, and she was grateful her traveling companions didn’t mention it.

  “Let’s take a break,” she said as they reached the top of a ridge. “Have a seat.”

  Gun gave a sheepish shrug. “We can’t sit. The ground is too hot. It’s one of the torments of the place. We have to keep walking.”

  Emily felt her face redden. She hadn’t thought about the blistering stone, protected as she was in her boots and leather pants. She should have found them something to wear as shoes before now.

  “Let us use this.” Brother spread out his hellhound hide.

  They sat together. Gun gave a soft moan, massaging his blackened soles.

  Emily sat cross-legged on the stone, avoiding a jet of gas swirling from one of the many fissures. “I’ll kill the next hound we see. You can wrap your feet in fur.”

  “That might be wise for you as well,” Brother said. “In the event of more beetles.”

  She nodded, remembering the black mass of insects pulling back from the dogs’ paws as they frolicked in their midst. She could probably wade right through the bugs. From a pocket, she brought out the packet of jerky. “I have food. It’s not much, but you’re welcome to share it.”

  “Food?” Gun said. “You came prepared.”

  “I brought water, too, but it didn’t survive the trip.” She held up the empty goat-bladder skein.

  “I remember water,” Brother murmured. “There was a green stream running over rocks near my home. It sounded like music.”

  Emily tucked the skein into her waistband and offered the jerky. “Have some.”

  “Thank you, but no. I have been so long without nourishment, I doubt my body would know what to do.”

  Gun and Starshine also declined. Emily slipped a piece of jerky into her cheek and put the packet back in her pocket.

  Brother shook his head. “You are an enigma. You come to this place wearing clothes and bearing arms. You carry food.”

  Emily shrugged. “I did my research. I’d like to know more about the castle, though. Will you tell me about it?”

  “I cannot,” said Brother. “Much time has passed, and the memory dims.”

  “Not dim enough for me,” Gun said. “I have vivid recollections of specific places. Vats of boiling oil. The hanging rooms.”

  “Yes.” Brother jerked as if jolted into memory.

  Emily frowned. “Hanging?”

  “They suspend you from the ceiling,” Brother said, “oftentimes upside down or bent backward.”

  “And they hang weights from you to make sure you stay bent backward,” Gun said.

  Images of war prisoners came to mind, and Emily winced. “Are the rooms guarded?”

  “They have no need of guards,” said Brother. “We cannot escape.”

  “I did,” Starshine whispered.

  They looked at her, and she blinked as if surprised she had spoken.

  “Star.” Gun patted her shoulder. “How did you manage that?”

  “I was in a group of six. The demons would make a show of choosing one of us to torture, and the rest would watch in horror, waiting to be next. I noticed the demons weren’t as interested in the person being hurt as in our reactions. I learned to stay quiet. Feel nothing. Once, when all attention was elsewhere, I slipped away. I wandered the castle unattended for some time.”

  Emily felt a thrill of anticipation. “What do you remember?”

  “The corridors in the upper floors will mislead you. Some end at blank walls. But I found a way through their maze. There is always a statue of a hellhound with a broken ear pointing to the proper path.”

  “That’s good information.” Emily nodded.

  “The main floor looks to be one large room, but there is a false wall running around it with peepholes set at different heights. It smells bad there. I don’t know what it was used for.”

  “Speaking of the main room,” Emily said, “is there only one way in from outside?”

  “There are twelve gates,” Gun said, “three along each wall.”

  “They are guarded,” said Brother.

  “There is another way,” Starshine said, eyes downcast. “Beneath the main room is the dungeon.”

  “The burning place,” said Brother.

  “Cages,” said Gun.

  “Yes, but beneath it, there is…” Starshine hesitated. “A banquet hall. Long tables and benches. I saw many tunnels. A draft came from one, so I followed it. That was a mistake. The tunnels are traveled, especially at night. I was soon discovered.”

  Her voice caught, and Gun put his arm around her.

  “What else can you tell me?” Emily asked.

  Starshine shook her head. She sat in silence for several moments. Finally, she asked, “Why do they rub up against us? It’s as if they feed on our fear.”

  “I believe that’s exactly what they’re doing,” Emily said. “Experiencing terror vicariously. It’s like horror movie buffs. They get scared, but it’s a safe scare. Almost addictive.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “What is a horror movie?”

  “Theater,” Gun said. “Did you have theater where you came from?”

  “Yes,” said Starshine, “but our theater made me laugh.”

  “Movies do that, too. But some movies are about monsters. It’s just entertainment.”

  “Did you see these movies?”

  “A few. I preferred science fiction.”

  Starshine and Brother looked at each other in apparent bafflement. Gun chuckled.

  Emily leaned forward, deciding this was the time to share Chastity’s theory. “If you like sci-fi, you’ll appreciate this. There is speculation that we’re in another dimension. That’s why time seems to stop for us. We don’t belong.”

  Gun frowned. “How’d we get here?”

  “Wormhole.”

  “And the demons that live here are—”

  “They come from somewhere else,” Emily said. “A different planet. This is where they vacation. We’re their entertainment.”

  Gun frowned deeper. The other two looked back and forth as if he and Emily spoke a foreign language.

  “If this is Earth in another dimension,” Gun said slowly, “why is the sky scorched?”

  “Good question.” Emily looked up, shielding her eyes. “It actually looks like the upper atmosphere is on fire.”

  “It is,” Gun said.

  She glanced at him, wondering if he was joking.

  Brother jumped in as if anxious to bring the conversation back to his level. “I believe the sky always burns, but we see it only at certain times.”

  Emily nodded. She squinted at the flaming clouds and noticed another tunnel. One more person imported to hell.

  “Maybe the people who lived on this Earth went to war,” Gun said. “The A-bomb, you know. Obliterated the planet.”

  “Possibly,” Emily said, pleased that he had accepted her theory so readily. “Or maybe in this dimension the sun is dying, and in its death throes it swelled up and swallowed Mercury and Venus.”

  “Far out,” Gun said.

  “Gun,” said Brother, looking impressed. “How is it you speak the language of the angels?
”

  Gun gazed distantly and made no response.

  “I’m not an angel,” Emily murmured.

  “This is hell,” Starshine said, “yet you speak of it in other than biblical terms.”

  “This may well be the biblical hell,” Emily said. “Maybe this is what John saw when he wrote Revelations. But it has nothing to do with good or evil. We are all victims here.”

  “You know what this means, don’t you?” Gun said as if there had been no intervening talk. “Somewhere in our dimension there is a planet with these monsters on it.”

  “Right,” Emily said. She hadn’t considered that side of it. The thought chilled her. “Damn. For a moment, I actually felt a draft of cold air.”

  “Night is coming.” Starshine hid her face in Gun’s shoulder.

  “What happens at night?” asked Emily.

  “Did you ever hear the term when hell freezes over? Well, when darkness falls—” The sound of an approaching crowd cut off Gun’s reply.

  In the gorge between the hills, thirty to forty people scurried over loose rocks and shale. Unintelligible shouts rent the air. Emily notched an arrow. “Can you see what’s got them spooked?”

  Gun stood, craning his neck, peering along the slope. One of the lead men saw him and began to climb. Another followed. Soon, the entire group scrambled up the ridge toward Emily and her cohorts.

  On their heels came a dozen hellhounds. The hounds pounced and bit, dragging those in the rear back down the hill.

  “They’ll lead those demon dogs straight to us,” Gun shouted.

  “Stop climbing,” Emily called to the people. “They can’t see you if you hold still.”

  But the frantic forerunners climbed faster. Emily couldn’t aim a decent shot through their bobbing heads. With her bow at her feet, she reached for those nearest her. They clawed her hand, scrabbling for purchase as she pulled them up.

  “Don’t run,” she said to each.

  To her side, Gun and Brother leaned to help the climbers onto the ridge. Behind them, Starshine wrung her hands, looking on the verge of hysteria.

  “Star,” Emily called, “don’t move. Trust me. Keep still and don’t make a sound.”