Demon Thief (The Demonata 2)

“Oh. I was hoping they were some sort of magical globes.”

“Maybe they are...or can be.” I tell him about the maze, how I tried to create light but couldn’t, until I got one of the marbles out.

“But we don’t need light here,” Dervish says.

“Thanks for pointing out the obvious,” I snap. “What I meant was, if I could use a marble as a torch, maybe I could use it as some other instrument. Like a compass or a tracking device?”

Dervish looks skeptical but says, “Well, go ahead, give it a try.”

I study the orange marbles and again find myself thinking of that night in Sally’s house, Art holding them up over his eyes. Shutting the image out, I focus on thoughts of Shark, asking the marbles to lead me to him. Nothing happens immediately, but then Dervish gasps and leans in closer. The orange swirls at the heart of the marbles have turned mistlike, and through the mist we can see Shark, battling demons, his hands wet with blood.

“Where is he?” Dervish cries.

“I don’t know.” I try to bring the land around Shark into clearer focus but can’t. Abandoning that tactic, I let the pictures of him fade and ask the marbles to guide us to him. They quiver in the palm of my hand, then leap into the air like jumping beans. I cringe away from the marbles. Dervish does too. But when they just hang there, we recover and grin at each other. I get to my feet, Dervish helping me. Pain flares afresh, but I use magic to fight it. Then I focus on the marbles, still hanging in the air above us.

“Shark,” I say quietly, directing my magic towards the marbles. They dart off ahead of me at a furious speed, twin bolts of orange lightning. “Wait!” I shout. They come to a halt, hovering in the air like bees. I glance at Dervish and he claps slowly.

I stumble forward, feet still blistered from the lava, Dervish supporting me. As we come up to the marbles, I again ask them to lead us to Shark. “But slowly,” I add. “Don’t get too far ahead of us.” The marbles bob in the air, as though nodding, then float smoothly over the volcanic landscape, leading us in search of our demontormented friend.

KERNEL IN THE SKY WITH DEMONS

WE march slowly but steadily, saying little, following the marbles. I try to keep track of time and distance, but it’s impossible. Sometimes I wish a demon would attack, just to break the monotony, but we see none of Lord Loss’s familiars. We can’t even sleep — our bodies get weary, but we can’t shut off our brains.

Eventually we come to a point where two enormous black panels meet at a ninety-degree angle and run up to the roof of yellowish sky. The panels are several feet wide and half a foot thick. They stand alone in the rocky surroundings, eerily out of place.

“Have you seen the film 2001: A Space Odyssey?” Dervish asks after a minute of silence.

“No. Why?”

“This reminds me of it.” He walks around the black pillars, squinting at them, then says in a curiously flat voice, “Good morning, Dave.”

“Who’s Dave?”

Dervish laughs. “Doesn’t matter.” He looks at me, eyebrow cocked. “What do you think they are?”

“A place where four squares of the Board meet.”

“Me too. But why just these weird slivers of black? I would have expected walls stretching the entire length of the boundaries.”

“Why don’t we step through one and see? I mean, we’ll have to anyway, since the marbles were heading that way.” The marbles stopped when we did, and now hang a few inches short of the black panel on our left.

“Let’s try the right panel first,” Dervish suggests. “Just for the hell of it.”

“OK.” I pick the marbles out of the air and put them in my pocket.

Dervish tests the panel, sticking a hand through to make sure we can pass. “It’s OK,” he says. “We —”

Suddenly, with a startled grunt, he disappears, hauled through the panel by something on the other side. I scream his name. When there’s no response, I dart into the darkness after him.

It’s not pitch black like the maze, but very dark. I get glimpses of a demon wrapping itself around Dervish. Ten-tacles covered in long, glistening blades, slicing away at Dervish, cutting him open, blood flying in every direction.

I jam my right hand into my trouser pocket. Yank out both marbles. Scream a word of magic at them, the word coming from somewhere deep inside me. Light flares, sharp and fierce in its orange brightness. I yell another word of magic as the light bursts forth, directing all the rays toward the demon.

The demon shrieks with pain from the explosion of light. It has dozens of eyes, a necessity in this dark kingdom, but a handicap when strong light’s trained on it. With another agonized cry, it releases Dervish and hurls itself away, sheltering its eyes with its tentacles.

I grab Dervish and throw him back through the panel, which is white on this side. Then I reverse out after him, at the last possible second commanding the marbles to follow, stepping through at the same time as they slip out of the dark zone, so I don’t lose track of them.

Dervish is on the volcanic floor, healing his wounds with magic, angry for being caught out so easily. “Thanks,” he mutters.