Dragon Storm
Page 7
“A talisman of some sort.” The words slipped out before Constantine thought better of it, but after a few seconds’ thought, he decided that it most likely would not be a problem if a disembodied head knew what he was after. “Something personal.”
“Gotcha. Something personal. Hmm.” Gary squinted, and looked around the room while Constantine examined the contents of the large bowl. It held a collection ranging from engraved idols to figurines bearing ominous rust-colored stains, to several sharp scalpels. The last were also stained, a fact that had Constantine hurriedly moving past the bowl.
“I know! I have just the thing!” Gary rolled over to the other side of the cage and pointed his nose toward a small tufted footstool. “See that? If you lift the lid, there’s a small wooden chest inside. I saw one of the demons snooping around in there one day when he thought I was napping.”
Constantine set down the book he had picked up, and moved over to the object in question. The cushioned top of the footstool lifted to reveal a recess, which did indeed contain a small chest. He pulled it out and opened it just as Gary added, “It has a finger in it.”
Constantine twitched as he gazed down at the unsightly digit. It was small and dark and withered, as if it had been mummified.
“I think it’s Asmodeus’s finger. At least, I know he is missing a pinky, and I assume that’s his.” Gary watched with interest as Constantine tucked the chest away in his shirt. “What else are you looking for? Like I said, I’m a whiz at scavenger hunts. I can help you find some other stuff, if you like.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Constantine told the chatty head. He inclined his own in thanks. “This will suffice. Good-bye.”
“Aw, you’re leaving?”
Constantine slipped back into the spirit world, Gary’s words trailing eerily after him. “I was hoping you could stay to lunch. It’s been forever since I had someone to talk to who didn’t want to go into details of the latest flesh rending going on downstairs…”
Three
The path out of the palace wasn’t particularly fraught with danger, but Constantine, aware of the shriveled finger stashed away on his person, took the precaution of pausing whenever he came to a room or hallway that was occupied. Most times, the demons were passing through on some errand or other, but it wasn’t until he had almost reached the exit that something ruffled his equanimity. “—don’t think you have the authority to give me orders,” one demon was saying to another when Constantine rounded a corner. Beyond the demons, the doorway to the mortal world was in sight. His spirits rose; he was almost out of Abaddon, away from the risk of discovery, and better yet, about to become the savior of the dragon world.
“I am a demon third class,” the second demon protested. He poked the first demon in the chest as he spoke. “While you are only fourth class. By the laws of Asmodeus, you must attend to my bidding.”
Constantine edged around the pair, realizing they were the same two demons he’d seen when he first entered Abaddon.
The first demon gave the second a shove, almost sending the latter reeling into Constantine. He danced to the side and hurried past the two demons, heading straight for the door to Seville.
“You’ll go on report for that,” the second demon said, pulling out a notepad and writing something down. “As well as for refusing to kill the mortal. Let me see, your name is Vian?”
“Don’t report me!” the first demon shrieked. His demeanor had changed in a blink of an eye. Constantine had a moment of sympathy for him—punishment in Abaddon for an infraction of any sort was bound to be arduous, to say the least. But it was the demon’s next words that had him pausing at the threshold of the door. “I’ll do it, I’ll do it. But… the mortal is a Charmer. What if she does something to me before I can kill her?”
Constantine spun around to stare at the two demons, his body suddenly tense with the fight instinct. Were the demons talking about Bee? No, they couldn’t be. Why would Asmodeus imprison her if he simply wanted her dead?
“She has few powers here,” the second demon was telling the first. “You worry for nothing. Besides, the order came from Lord Asmodeus himself. He has no time to deal with her, and wants to be rid of any potential trouble.”
“But she could do things to me. Unnatural things,” Vian the demon whined. “You could kill her quite easily. You’re bigger than me, and a demon third class.”
“Which is why you’ll do what I tell you to do, and I tell you to go kill the mortal.”
Constantine was past the pair and halfway to Bee’s cell before he was out of earshot of the arguing demons. Damnation, he hated feeling like he had been backed into a corner, but there was nothing for it—Bee was too important to the salvation of the dragons to allow Asmodeus to kill her, not to mention the fact that he had always prided himself on being a sensitive dragon, one who understood emotions better than most. True, no one else seemed to see that side to his personality, but he was confident that someday he would be known for his sensitivity. He knew he’d never be able to live with himself if he allowed the unprotected Bee to be slaughtered when he could prevent such an atrocity.
Bee was sulking in the back of her cell when he approached the door. Although he could no longer hear the demons, he knew it was merely a matter of seconds before one of them came to fulfill his horrible plan. Constantine stepped out of the spirit world just as Bee looked up and made an exclamation.
“Oh, it’s you. Come to taunt me some more, have you?” she asked with an injured sniff.
“Unfortunately, no.”
“Unfortunately?” she asked on a gasp. “You really are a bastard, aren’t you? I mean, I know you dragons are cold-hearted, and think only of yourselves, and never do anything without being paid for it first, but—”
“Be quiet, woman!” Constantine said loudly, and before she could recover, added, “Get to the back of the room.”
She put her hands on her hips, and stuck her chin out in a stubborn manner. “I like that. You think you can tell me what to do? Well, I have news for you—”
“If you don’t get out of the way, you’ll be burned,” Constantine snarled.
“Gotcha. Something personal. Hmm.” Gary squinted, and looked around the room while Constantine examined the contents of the large bowl. It held a collection ranging from engraved idols to figurines bearing ominous rust-colored stains, to several sharp scalpels. The last were also stained, a fact that had Constantine hurriedly moving past the bowl.
“I know! I have just the thing!” Gary rolled over to the other side of the cage and pointed his nose toward a small tufted footstool. “See that? If you lift the lid, there’s a small wooden chest inside. I saw one of the demons snooping around in there one day when he thought I was napping.”
Constantine set down the book he had picked up, and moved over to the object in question. The cushioned top of the footstool lifted to reveal a recess, which did indeed contain a small chest. He pulled it out and opened it just as Gary added, “It has a finger in it.”
Constantine twitched as he gazed down at the unsightly digit. It was small and dark and withered, as if it had been mummified.
“I think it’s Asmodeus’s finger. At least, I know he is missing a pinky, and I assume that’s his.” Gary watched with interest as Constantine tucked the chest away in his shirt. “What else are you looking for? Like I said, I’m a whiz at scavenger hunts. I can help you find some other stuff, if you like.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Constantine told the chatty head. He inclined his own in thanks. “This will suffice. Good-bye.”
“Aw, you’re leaving?”
Constantine slipped back into the spirit world, Gary’s words trailing eerily after him. “I was hoping you could stay to lunch. It’s been forever since I had someone to talk to who didn’t want to go into details of the latest flesh rending going on downstairs…”
Three
The path out of the palace wasn’t particularly fraught with danger, but Constantine, aware of the shriveled finger stashed away on his person, took the precaution of pausing whenever he came to a room or hallway that was occupied. Most times, the demons were passing through on some errand or other, but it wasn’t until he had almost reached the exit that something ruffled his equanimity. “—don’t think you have the authority to give me orders,” one demon was saying to another when Constantine rounded a corner. Beyond the demons, the doorway to the mortal world was in sight. His spirits rose; he was almost out of Abaddon, away from the risk of discovery, and better yet, about to become the savior of the dragon world.
“I am a demon third class,” the second demon protested. He poked the first demon in the chest as he spoke. “While you are only fourth class. By the laws of Asmodeus, you must attend to my bidding.”
Constantine edged around the pair, realizing they were the same two demons he’d seen when he first entered Abaddon.
The first demon gave the second a shove, almost sending the latter reeling into Constantine. He danced to the side and hurried past the two demons, heading straight for the door to Seville.
“You’ll go on report for that,” the second demon said, pulling out a notepad and writing something down. “As well as for refusing to kill the mortal. Let me see, your name is Vian?”
“Don’t report me!” the first demon shrieked. His demeanor had changed in a blink of an eye. Constantine had a moment of sympathy for him—punishment in Abaddon for an infraction of any sort was bound to be arduous, to say the least. But it was the demon’s next words that had him pausing at the threshold of the door. “I’ll do it, I’ll do it. But… the mortal is a Charmer. What if she does something to me before I can kill her?”
Constantine spun around to stare at the two demons, his body suddenly tense with the fight instinct. Were the demons talking about Bee? No, they couldn’t be. Why would Asmodeus imprison her if he simply wanted her dead?
“She has few powers here,” the second demon was telling the first. “You worry for nothing. Besides, the order came from Lord Asmodeus himself. He has no time to deal with her, and wants to be rid of any potential trouble.”
“But she could do things to me. Unnatural things,” Vian the demon whined. “You could kill her quite easily. You’re bigger than me, and a demon third class.”
“Which is why you’ll do what I tell you to do, and I tell you to go kill the mortal.”
Constantine was past the pair and halfway to Bee’s cell before he was out of earshot of the arguing demons. Damnation, he hated feeling like he had been backed into a corner, but there was nothing for it—Bee was too important to the salvation of the dragons to allow Asmodeus to kill her, not to mention the fact that he had always prided himself on being a sensitive dragon, one who understood emotions better than most. True, no one else seemed to see that side to his personality, but he was confident that someday he would be known for his sensitivity. He knew he’d never be able to live with himself if he allowed the unprotected Bee to be slaughtered when he could prevent such an atrocity.
Bee was sulking in the back of her cell when he approached the door. Although he could no longer hear the demons, he knew it was merely a matter of seconds before one of them came to fulfill his horrible plan. Constantine stepped out of the spirit world just as Bee looked up and made an exclamation.
“Oh, it’s you. Come to taunt me some more, have you?” she asked with an injured sniff.
“Unfortunately, no.”
“Unfortunately?” she asked on a gasp. “You really are a bastard, aren’t you? I mean, I know you dragons are cold-hearted, and think only of yourselves, and never do anything without being paid for it first, but—”
“Be quiet, woman!” Constantine said loudly, and before she could recover, added, “Get to the back of the room.”
She put her hands on her hips, and stuck her chin out in a stubborn manner. “I like that. You think you can tell me what to do? Well, I have news for you—”
“If you don’t get out of the way, you’ll be burned,” Constantine snarled.
