For the first time, Druaga looked somewhat discomforted. Clearly he’d had no idea I would react this way. I have a reputation for coldness in the face of conflict—a fact which had made me all but undefeatable during the Celestial Wars. But this time I could not stop the wrath that rose in me—nor did I wish to.
“Well, I am owed some compensation, after all,” he muttered.
“For sending the devilkins out to get my concubine’s shoe, then allowing them into your hotel to trick and attack her?” I roared. “How dare you even claim such a thing? You put her life in danger and then you think to take part of her soul right in front of me? I should kill you where you sit!”
I was towering over him now, my breath hot in my chest, my voice a menacing bass rumble.
“You don’t dare!” But there was a trembling in the Wendingo’s voice that said he didn’t believe what he was saying. “The Demon Council would—”
“The Council would say I have every right! You have offered me insult heaped upon injury.”
I moved towards him, my coils sliding, the scales rustling against each other. I knocked aside the forgotten breakfast tray with a contemptuous flick of my tail. There was a metallic clang and its contents spattered everywhere. I paid not the slightest notice.
“Please, Lord Laish, calm yourself,” Druaga begged. “I don’t understand why you are so upset! She is just a human!”
“She is my human!”
Within I was a furnace of rage. I wanted to breathe a wave of fire over the cowering boar-demon, wanted to roast him to a crisp but something held me back—the fear that the fire might get out of control and hurt Gwendolyn. So I held back…but only just.
“I am your host!” Druaga squealed, cowering in his white leather chair. He was sounding more like a boar every moment. “You dare not kill me! The laws of hospitality—”
“Laws of hospitality be damned,” I snarled, liquid fire dripping from my jaws. I was standing directly over him at this point and a large drop of it fell upon him, singing away his right tusk. He squealed again, his hand going to the smoking stump.
“My tusk!”
“You’re lucky I don’t rip an arm or a leg off…or perhaps something else.” I eyed his exposed genitals with burning disgust. “In fact, I think I’ll castrate you here and now—maybe that will teach you a lesson about lusting after the property of others.”
Druaga gasped and scrambled backwards, trying to get over the back of the chair without taking his eyes off me. But in this form I was as quick as a striking snake. I aimed a carefully controlled column of flame at his disgusting shaft, crisping it to a shriveled, charcoal black stump. It looked like a sausage that has been forgotten in the fire.
The boar-demon gave a high, whining shriek that hurt my sensitive ears as he groped between his legs, writhing in pain.
“No! No! Ah, the pain!”
“Why are you so upset, Druaga?” I growled, glaring at him. “You are a demon, after all. It will regenerate, much like Gwendolyn’s soul would have, had you carried out your plan.”
“But it will not be so long again for years. I have been growing it for millennia. And my tusk…” He patted the right side of his hairy face. “It is gone forever.”
“The rest of you will be too if you do not leave my rooms now,” I snarled at him. “Go before I decide to erase your miserable existence from the face of the Infernal landscape.”
Whimpering with pain, Druaga managed to scramble up and hobble towards the door. He was still clutching himself, alternating between grabbing his face and his mutilated crotch when he made it through the doorway and was gone.
“Oh…oh my Goddess.”
The soft, broken murmur brought me out of the all consuming rage I’d been in and I scanned the room, my eyes reading heat signatures as well as visual cues. The form I was in was a very useful one to have—though it was somewhat large and bulky, especially in such a confined space.
At last I found what I was looking for—the source of the voice.
Gwendolyn was huddled in the far corner of the room, shielding herself behind one of the large white leather cushions from the sofa. She was trembling and tears were leaking from the corners of her eyes. With my current vision they looked like white rivulets on her red cheeks.
“Gwendolyn?” My voice was harsh as I slithered towards her but I attempted to soften it a bit.
“Get away! Stay away from me!” Her words were sharp—panicked. I thought she must be afraid that Druaga was still in the room, menacing her with the soul-hook.
“You have nothing to fear—he is gone. He will not harm you.” Gently but firmly I pulled the white cushion from her trembling grip with my clawed hands. “It’s all right,” I repeated. “You’re safe now.”
But she only balled herself up tight, withdrawing as far into the corner as she could.
“Please, Laish.” Her voice trembled and every line of her body spoke of extreme terror. “Please, don’t hurt me. Don’t burn me—please!”
And then I understood…it wasn’t Druaga she was frightened of.
It was me.
Chapter Eighteen
Gwendolyn
I was scared to death he was going to kill me. Maybe not on purpose but it wouldn’t matter because I would be just as dead even if it was an accident. He had pried my only shield away from me—not that the white cushion would have stopped a jet of flame. But still, I felt better with it between me and the beast he had become—between me and the fire.
Inside my head that awful night ran over and over—screaming and crying for my mother as Keisha and I clutched each other panicky-tight, the two of us crammed into a tiny closet—the place we’d been hiding when it started… hearing the crackling sound as the flames licked at the door…the overwhelming heat…the choking black smoke that had rolled through the house…the smell of burning flesh and the sound of her begging. And then, just as the firemen smashed the window and came in to get us, my mother’s high, piercing shrieks as she died in the fire.
The fire set by a demon.
“Gwendolyn…please,” I heard him growl in that deep, inhuman voice. “Please believe me—I would never harm you.”
The fire…the fire is coming…the fire is going to get you. Oh, Mamma, I’m scared! Please, I’m so scared…
“Please,” that low, rough voice said again. “You can come out of the corner—it’s perfectly safe.”
His words tugged at me, pulling me back to reality. I opened my eyes and realized I was still curled into a trembling ball like a scared little girl who’s afraid of the monsters under her bed. But damn it—this monster was real. This monster was the man I’d allowed to touch me and kiss me and stroke me last night—the man I’d allowed to make me come.
I felt sick at the thought. I forced myself to stand up, still hugging the wall. But I could barely make myself look at what Laish had transformed into.
The beast was huge—a cross between a snake and a dragon with a scaly black hide—each scale outlined in golden-red as though its inner furnace was glowing through. It had a long, pointed snout filled with steak-knife teeth and pure black eyes with ruby slits for pupils. When it moved its long, sinuous body coiled and uncoiled restlessly and its tail was twice as long as I was tall.
It didn’t look like it ought to fit into the luxury suite. It looked like it would fit better into one of my nightmares and it exuded a breathless heat I remembered all too well from the night my mother died. Standing near it was like standing on the inside of the closet door, listening to her scream all over again. The arid air around it seemed to singe my lungs and the scent of smoke and brimstone invaded my sinuses, making my eyes tear.
“Please,” I begged it, unable to make myself leave the corner. “Please—can’t you change back? If…if you are still Laish in there.”
“Of course I am.” The thing’s voice was deep and harsh. Its breath smelled like liquid metal and burning rock and death. “But it would not be safe.”
“What? Why not?” I demanded weakly. Right now I couldn’t imagine anything more dangerous than the huge, frightening thing he had become. He was freaking terrifying, with liquid fire dripping from his slavering jaws and that muscular, snaky black tail. And how could he even still talk with those steak knives for teeth?
“Druaga will want revenge,” he said or rather hissed. “I am better equipped to defend you in this form than almost any other.”
“You’re also better equipped to burn me to a crisp if you get a tickle in your nose and sneeze.” I gestured at his flaring nostrils which looked ready to breathe fire at any time.
“I am sorry you fear me in this form—I did not mean to frighten you. But I must remain so at least until we have crossed the border into the next circle of Hell.”
“Then let’s go.” I forced myself to straighten up and wipe my face—not that I needed to. The heat from his scaly body had completely dried my tears. “Let’s get Kurex and get out of here!” I said, trying to make my voice strong. Trying not to look at him.
“We cannot bring him with us—he is in the stables which are guarded by a hoard of demons.”
“I won’t leave him!” I said stubbornly. “You said Druaga will want revenge—you can’t let him take it out on poor Kurex just because he’s pissed off at you.”
“If we go, I will have to kill many of them. Do you wish to witness that?”
His words gave me pause. Could I deal with more carnage? Watching what he’d done to Druaga had been bad enough…But think what they’d do to Kurex! And he’s just an animal—he doesn’t know what’s going on! He’s innocent…helpless…
I couldn’t leave him. The big horse had found a place in my heart and besides, I could imagine the horrible things Druaga would want to do to him. I remembered the soul hook and shivered—that was something the boar-demon had considered no big deal. How much more brutal would he be if he was looking for revenge and wanted to hurt someone?
“Well?” Laish’s long, forked tongue came out on the word, making me flinch back.
“No, I don’t want to see it,” I said. “But…if it’s the only way to save Kurex, then do it. Go—I’m right behind you.” I didn’t want to be ahead of him. What if he got a tickle in his nose and sneezed as I had mentioned earlier? I’d seen the way he’d singed Druaga’s man-candy to a crispy critter—I didn’t want that burning jet of flame applied to me.
Those ruby slits that his eyes had become stared at me, as if judging my character or my willingness to go on. I lifted my chin and met his gaze as best I could.
Now that I knew he wasn’t going to intentionally burn me to a crisp, I felt a little less hysterical and weepy. But the past was still playing in my head—the memory of how my mother had died on a constant loop behind my eyes. I didn’t want to get too close to him—ever again.
“Very well,” he said at last. “But stay as near me as you can stand.”
Then he left, his long, sinuous body flowing out the door though I wondered how he could even fit through it. He did manage, however, leaving me to follow his forked and scaly tail like a black ribbon left behind to guide my way.
From the time we left the luxury suite until the time we stepped across the threshold to Minauros, the third circle of Hell, is kind of a blur in my mind. Which is fine with me—I don’t want a clear image of that nightmarish flight.
I have vague memories of scrambling along behind Laish, trying to stay out of the way of his whipping tail. We caught most of the demon guards at the stable slash parking lot unprepared. I guess Druaga hadn’t had time to mobilize them yet, what with being preoccupied by having his junk burned off, so we were able to get to Kurex with minimal muss and fuss. And by that I mean Laish only had to burn ten or twelve of them to a flaming crisp.
Each time a blast of white-hot fire left his mouth, I flinched and felt myself back in that stuffy little closet, screaming and crying for my mother who would never hold me again. Every time I saw a demon go up in a screeching pillar of flame I thought of her, how she had writhed in agony, outlined by fire while the demon laughed…
I tried to push the old memory away. For years I’d succeeded in burying it completely and it only came out now once in a great while when I was under a lot of stress and had a nightmare. But now it was out, front and center and I couldn’t banish it again.
The only thing that saved me from breaking down completely was Kurex. I had thought the sight of Laish as a huge, ravening dragon-snake beast many times bigger than himself would frighten the big horse to death. But he looked at Laish in his beast form and didn’t even snort—it was almost as though he was used to such sights.
Well, he was a Demon-steed so I supposed it wasn’t that surprising. But still, the fact that the big horse wasn’t freaking out or panicking helped me to be calm too. I somehow managed to saddle him, with the aid of a step stool and Laish’s commands, though the huge black leather saddle weighed a ton. Then I swung aboard and Kurex followed Laish quietly out of the underground stables where demons were shrieking and running everywhere by now.
Laish turned once before we left and said something in that harsh language—not to me but to Kurex. The big horse’s ears swiveled and he snorted and pawed the ground. Laish looked at me.
“Cling tight to Kurex’s back—he will not let you fall. Now we must flee for our lives—or yours at least, Gwendolyn. Come!”
We went through a kind of maze—up hallways and down passages that twisted and turned, always following Laish who seemed to know the way without a doubt, for he never hesitated once. There was a hoard of shrieking demons after us by the time we reached a doorway I thought must lead to a vast elevator. It was huge—as big as the front entrance in the lobby had been—but with sliding, shiny bronze doors that reflected our images back to us.
Laish whipped his snakey neck around and sprayed the demons crowding behind us with liquid fire. The napalm type stuff stuck to them and spread, eating through skin and muscle and burning down to their black bones. The scent of their burning flesh rose to my nose, making me cough and wretch miserably. I put my face down to Kurex’s neck and breathed through his mane, trying to filter the awful smell out of the air. The big horse stamped restlessly and turned his head around, brushing my shoulder gently with his nose.
“All right, boy—we’re going to be all right,” I whispered to him. But I wasn’t sure if I was trying to reassure him or myself.
“This is the gateway,” Laish hissed at me. “Push the button—open it while I hold them off. Hurry—soon there will be too many!”
I looked where he was pointing with his clawed and scaly hand. There was a single gold button at the side of the door. Reaching out with a trembling finger, I managed to push it and the doors slid open just in time. But instead of showing an empty elevator, the scene revealed was that of a dessert.
A vast, arid waste of shifting sands and distant dunes greeted my gaze. A blinding white sun was in the sky, beating down fiercely, making spots behind my eyes at once. In the distance I saw a pitch black pyramid rising towards the sky and crawling towards it was either a monster or the biggest scorpion I had ever seen in my life.
“What the—?” I began, half sitting up and pointing at the monster scorpion. But Laish was right behind me, still breathing flame.
“Go—go!” he growled in his deep, harsh voice. He slapped Kurex on the rump and for the first time, the big horse reacted as I’d thought he would. With a sharp, terrified whiney, he plunged forward, leaving the basement of the Hotel Infernal and taking us into the next level of Hell.
Chapter Nineteen
Laish
I turned back into my regular human form as soon as I could—as soon as I was certain that none of Druaga’s minions were following us. The denizens of one circle are generally unable to cross to another. Of course, there are a few notable exceptions such as myself and the tenacious HellSpawn I was certain was still following Gwendolyn’s scent.
I had felt somethin
g as we left the second circle and entered the third—nothing of great consequence but it still gave me pause. It was a vague sensation that we were not alone. That more than just Gwendolyn and Kurex and myself had passed through into the next circle. I looked carefully to be certain the HellSpawn had not crossed the barrier with us. This would have been the perfect time to attack—when we were disorganized and on the run. To my relief, I saw nothing.
But my relief was short lived. When I looked back at Gwendolyn, she was clinging to Kurex as though her life depended on it and watching me with wide, haunted eyes. Inwardly, I sighed. I hated that she’d had to see so much carnage—especially with me as the cause of it. My dragon form seemed to have bothered her much more than I had thought it would. Not that I am pleasant to look at in that form—I am not meant to be. I cultivated it to strike fear in the hearts of enemies and inflict maximum casualties during battle. It had gotten us safely into Minauros, the Great Desert, but it also seemed to have cost me the trust I had so recently earned from my little witch.
“Are you well?” I asked her as I snapped my fingers and clothed myself in lightweight attire appropriate for dessert travel. “Are you hurt anywhere? Burned?”
She shook her head, not saying a word. I tried again.
“Do you still have your water bottle?” I hoped that she did. A mortal cannot cross the vast tract of Minauros—even the narrow area we were going to traverse—without proper protection and hydration. They are simply not strong enough to withstand the unending heat and aridity. I could, of course, make something for her to drink. I had lost my sacrificial knife when I changed forms but I could call another to me easily enough. However, I foresaw that getting her to accept anything like food or drink from my hand in the near future would be extremely difficult.
To my relief, she nodded again and patted the brown leather satchel she’d brought with her. I blessed her presence of mind in taking it when we were leaving Baator. Now at least I didn’t have to worry about her dying of thirst. Getting her to take nourishment was something else but I decided to worry about it later, after we had put some distance between us and the barrier between the circles. Druaga probably wouldn’t be up to following us himself but he might find someone who could. I wanted to be far away with our tracks lost in the shifting dunes by the time he did so.