Dragon Storm
Page 8
Bee blinked at him for a couple of seconds, her mouth opening and closing, but evidently she thought better of continuing, and scurried to the back of the cell.
Constantine, with a quick look up and down the hall, took a deep breath, summoned as much of his energy as he dared risk, and blew dragon fire onto the bars.
The bars turned gold, then white, shimmered for a moment, then crumbled into gray, ashy dust.
“Well, why didn’t you do that in the first place?” Bee asked, running forward.
“Because it takes a tremendous amount of energy.” Constantine held out a hand for her, his fingers closing around her narrow wrist as he turned and took off down the hallway at run. “We don’t have much time, and we’re going to have to fight our way out past two demons, but at least I can distract them while you get through the door.”
“What on earth are you talking abou—”
They rounded a corner and skidded to a halt. Rather than the two arguing demons, which Constantine was fairly confident he could handle, or at worst, occupy long enough for Bee to escape, the hall was filled with at least a dozen demons who appeared in all shapes and sizes of human form.
“Bloody hell,” Bee said at the same time Constantine swore, “Sins of the saints!”
“I thought you said there were two?” Bee smacked Constantine on the arm before gesturing toward the packed hallway. “There’s got to be at least ten demons there.”
“There were only two,” he said tersely, his mind racing with a way to get out of the situation. “And for the record, this is exactly the situation I discussed with you earlier. You remember it: it was the reason why I said I couldn’t release you.”
“And yet you did,” Bee said with thinned lips. “Thanks a lot, dragon.”
“Bite me, Charmer,” he said without thinking.
Bee turned a shocked face to him that almost made the situation worthwhile. But before he could grab her and run in the opposite direction, the mass of demons parted as if by magic, and one giant of a man lumbered toward them. He stared first at Bee, then at Constantine, and, after a moment’s thought, said in a deep voice that seemed to come from the very bowels of the earth itself, “Lord Asmodeus wishes to see you.”
Constantine was about to respond when the giant gestured in the air and spoke a few words in an ugly, grating language.
It was as if someone had thrown over him an invisible net weighted down by anvils. He moved a step back, holding out his left arm to see if he could even lift the limb. The movement was slow and reluctant. “What have you done?” he demanded to know, looking from his arm to the demon. “What spell have you cast upon us?”
“Not spell, bête noire,” the giant said, and with one massive pawlike hand on Bee’s shoulder, and the other on Constantine’s, he marched them up the hallway.
“A bête noire? That means black beast, doesn’t it?” Bee struggled against the paw, trying to peer around him to look at Constantine. “Are you going to turn into the Hound of the Baskervilles or something?”
“Hardly. I am a dragon.” Constantine tried to remember what a bête noire was in the immortal world. He had a vague feeling it had to do with being ostracized from something, but couldn’t figure out why this demon would cast such a thing.
“Hey, I don’t suppose you’re open to bribery, are you? Because I have almost unlimited wealth at my disposal via my clients, and I’m sure they would be happy to reward you very generously indeed were you to let me go.” Bee tried to smile up at their captor. “What you do with the dragon is none of my business.”
The demon rumbled in a negative manner. Constantine glared across the giant’s chest at her. “It’s like that, is it?”
“You’re a ghost. They can’t hurt you.” Her lips narrowed. “Besides, your objection to rescuing me was based on concerns about my safety. I’m simply trying to relieve you of that burden so that you have only yourself to take care of. Leave off, you big oaf! You’re hurting my shoulder.”
“You’ll notice I’m not complaining,” Constantine said righteously, even though his shoulder was beginning to ache under the steely grip.
“I notice you’re not doing anything to free us, either,” she said quickly, and twisted around to land a punch on the demon’s crotch.
It didn’t bother the giant in the least. He kept marching onward, dragging them down a maze of corridors.
“I didn’t become one of the most well-respected wyverns of my time by fighting against a situation I cannot win,” Constantine answered irritably.
“You could escape into you-know-where,” Bee said with a sidelong look at the demon.
“I already told you that I would not leave you behind in that manner. I dislike having to repeat myself.”
The demon stopped before a pair of massive wooden double doors bound in iron, and dropped Constantine in order to throw open both doors, then more or less tossed them both inside the room.
Constantine staggered forward, but managed to keep from falling onto the floor. Until the demon flung Bee in after him. She slammed smack-dab into Constantine, sending him toppling backward, their foreheads hitting each other with an unpleasant thunk.
“Ow!” Bee said, vigorously rubbing her forehead. “Crap on a shingle, Constantine! Your head is as hard as a block of cement.”
Constantine rubbed his own forehead before getting to his feet, and was in the act of extending his hand to help Bee up when a voice echoed down the large, high-ceilinged room.
“Con man!”
“What the—” Bee started to say, turning around to look behind him. Her face went through a series of expressions, from disbelief to fear to outright horror.
Instinctively, Constantine spun around and put himself between Bee and whatever it was that was threatening them.
A man strolled toward them. He was of middling height, had dark hair and eyes, and a complexion that would normally be called swarthy when it wasn’t applied to what was, Constantine assumed, the premier prince of all the demon lords. He carried a small brass birdcage, in which resided a grinning Gary.
“Long time no see!” the head called to him, the lines around his eyes crinkling with delight. “I was just telling Asmodeus what a nice chat we had, and he said that since I enjoyed it so much, he’d see that we could do it again. And here you are! Hi, I’m Gary. Are you with Connie?” The last was spoken to Bee.
Constantine, with a quick look up and down the hall, took a deep breath, summoned as much of his energy as he dared risk, and blew dragon fire onto the bars.
The bars turned gold, then white, shimmered for a moment, then crumbled into gray, ashy dust.
“Well, why didn’t you do that in the first place?” Bee asked, running forward.
“Because it takes a tremendous amount of energy.” Constantine held out a hand for her, his fingers closing around her narrow wrist as he turned and took off down the hallway at run. “We don’t have much time, and we’re going to have to fight our way out past two demons, but at least I can distract them while you get through the door.”
“What on earth are you talking abou—”
They rounded a corner and skidded to a halt. Rather than the two arguing demons, which Constantine was fairly confident he could handle, or at worst, occupy long enough for Bee to escape, the hall was filled with at least a dozen demons who appeared in all shapes and sizes of human form.
“Bloody hell,” Bee said at the same time Constantine swore, “Sins of the saints!”
“I thought you said there were two?” Bee smacked Constantine on the arm before gesturing toward the packed hallway. “There’s got to be at least ten demons there.”
“There were only two,” he said tersely, his mind racing with a way to get out of the situation. “And for the record, this is exactly the situation I discussed with you earlier. You remember it: it was the reason why I said I couldn’t release you.”
“And yet you did,” Bee said with thinned lips. “Thanks a lot, dragon.”
“Bite me, Charmer,” he said without thinking.
Bee turned a shocked face to him that almost made the situation worthwhile. But before he could grab her and run in the opposite direction, the mass of demons parted as if by magic, and one giant of a man lumbered toward them. He stared first at Bee, then at Constantine, and, after a moment’s thought, said in a deep voice that seemed to come from the very bowels of the earth itself, “Lord Asmodeus wishes to see you.”
Constantine was about to respond when the giant gestured in the air and spoke a few words in an ugly, grating language.
It was as if someone had thrown over him an invisible net weighted down by anvils. He moved a step back, holding out his left arm to see if he could even lift the limb. The movement was slow and reluctant. “What have you done?” he demanded to know, looking from his arm to the demon. “What spell have you cast upon us?”
“Not spell, bête noire,” the giant said, and with one massive pawlike hand on Bee’s shoulder, and the other on Constantine’s, he marched them up the hallway.
“A bête noire? That means black beast, doesn’t it?” Bee struggled against the paw, trying to peer around him to look at Constantine. “Are you going to turn into the Hound of the Baskervilles or something?”
“Hardly. I am a dragon.” Constantine tried to remember what a bête noire was in the immortal world. He had a vague feeling it had to do with being ostracized from something, but couldn’t figure out why this demon would cast such a thing.
“Hey, I don’t suppose you’re open to bribery, are you? Because I have almost unlimited wealth at my disposal via my clients, and I’m sure they would be happy to reward you very generously indeed were you to let me go.” Bee tried to smile up at their captor. “What you do with the dragon is none of my business.”
The demon rumbled in a negative manner. Constantine glared across the giant’s chest at her. “It’s like that, is it?”
“You’re a ghost. They can’t hurt you.” Her lips narrowed. “Besides, your objection to rescuing me was based on concerns about my safety. I’m simply trying to relieve you of that burden so that you have only yourself to take care of. Leave off, you big oaf! You’re hurting my shoulder.”
“You’ll notice I’m not complaining,” Constantine said righteously, even though his shoulder was beginning to ache under the steely grip.
“I notice you’re not doing anything to free us, either,” she said quickly, and twisted around to land a punch on the demon’s crotch.
It didn’t bother the giant in the least. He kept marching onward, dragging them down a maze of corridors.
“I didn’t become one of the most well-respected wyverns of my time by fighting against a situation I cannot win,” Constantine answered irritably.
“You could escape into you-know-where,” Bee said with a sidelong look at the demon.
“I already told you that I would not leave you behind in that manner. I dislike having to repeat myself.”
The demon stopped before a pair of massive wooden double doors bound in iron, and dropped Constantine in order to throw open both doors, then more or less tossed them both inside the room.
Constantine staggered forward, but managed to keep from falling onto the floor. Until the demon flung Bee in after him. She slammed smack-dab into Constantine, sending him toppling backward, their foreheads hitting each other with an unpleasant thunk.
“Ow!” Bee said, vigorously rubbing her forehead. “Crap on a shingle, Constantine! Your head is as hard as a block of cement.”
Constantine rubbed his own forehead before getting to his feet, and was in the act of extending his hand to help Bee up when a voice echoed down the large, high-ceilinged room.
“Con man!”
“What the—” Bee started to say, turning around to look behind him. Her face went through a series of expressions, from disbelief to fear to outright horror.
Instinctively, Constantine spun around and put himself between Bee and whatever it was that was threatening them.
A man strolled toward them. He was of middling height, had dark hair and eyes, and a complexion that would normally be called swarthy when it wasn’t applied to what was, Constantine assumed, the premier prince of all the demon lords. He carried a small brass birdcage, in which resided a grinning Gary.
“Long time no see!” the head called to him, the lines around his eyes crinkling with delight. “I was just telling Asmodeus what a nice chat we had, and he said that since I enjoyed it so much, he’d see that we could do it again. And here you are! Hi, I’m Gary. Are you with Connie?” The last was spoken to Bee.
