Devil's Punch

“Because if they’re indentured to a demon’s house, then I’ve injured him and will owe reparations.”

I thought about that. “Historically, it’s kind of like harming a man’s servant?”

I remembered something from my history lessons about when the lower classes weren’t seen to have much value, and so if you killed a maid or something, you had to pay her master for the inconvenience. I was pretty indignant over that law, as I recalled. Not so oddly, I cared less about the fate of weird winged monsters that were probably reporting on my whereabouts to those who intended to execute me.

“Close enough,” the demon replied.

Which meant we had to leave the quasits alone, no matter how annoying they were. I didn’t care to end up in debt before I worked out a game plan. So like Greydusk, I ignored the creatures flying in our wake and focused on the crossing ahead. A stone bridge arched over roiling water, but it wasn’t in good repair. Chunks of stone had dropped away, leaving a rock-lattice that didn’t look strong enough for the carriage to cross.

“Should we get down?” I asked.

Greydusk shook its head. “Just hold on.”

The Deadliest Desire

In response I grabbed onto the metal bar before me; Chance wrapped both his arms around me. I leaned against him and shut my eyes. The loud bang of the wheels striking the stonework made my stomach clench. More rock broke away and the demon coach shuddered; the Klothod strained to heave us across the gap.

“Whatever you do, don’t fall in the water,” Greydusk shouted.

I didn’t need to ask why. Lethe meant forgetting. Oblivion. Therefore, it followed that if we were submerged in the river, it would erase everything that made us who we were. Which was almost like death—and unlike the forget fog I’d cast on Shannon and Jesse, this wouldn’t wear off. Demon magick was always stronger; that was why practitioners craved it. Killed for it.

Nodding, I hung on for dear life as the carriage went airborne. It was an aerodynamic impossibility, but we weren’t relying on the laws of nature anymore. The Klothod used their power to carry us across the bridge, and another piece fell away behind us as the coach clattered onto the rocky shore. And so, at full speed, we hit an invisible wall. If not for Chance’s arms around me, I would’ve been flung against it, breaking all my bones in the process. He held me tight, face against my neck, and the Klothod hissed out of the infernal mechanism, dissipating into smoky tendrils all around us.

“What’s the deal?” I asked.

Greydusk held up a hand as it leapt from the vehicle. Watching it explore the edges of our unseen prison was a nightmare, mimery in hell. Expression grim, the demon felt its way around the edges. In the end, the Imaron shook its head. It seemed we were seriously encased in an invisible box. I tried to ignore the Klothod swirling around us. They whispered in my ears, so faint I couldn’t make out the words, but they sounded…hungry. Not. Good. For obvious reasons, the Imaron focused on getting the Klothod back in their vial, which required an incantation and more than a little magick. I recognized the signs of casting, though demon spells looked much different.

I climbed down and checked on Butch. He was cowering at the bottom of my purse, looking as miserable as I’d ever seen him. He didn’t even lick my hand when I picked him up. This was one traumatized dog.

“Sorry.”

Butch stared up at me with limpid, despondent eyes, and when I said, “Don’t worry—we’ll figure it out,” he didn’t even dispute me. Which was really, really bad. When your Chihuahua stops arguing with you, you know you’re in trouble.

“Magus trap,” Greydusk said finally.

“How does it work?” Chance joined the Imaron, unwilling to take the demon’s word that there was no way out. So I watched him mime his way around the square too. God, this really was hell. No wonder Maury wanted out so bad.

Greydusk explained, “Magical lines are drawn, and when the desired target crosses, they snap together, creating an unbreakable casement.”

“Shit,” I said. “So we just sit here, waiting for whoever to collect us?”

If possible, its gray skin went paler, sickly green, as if it contemplated the surety of its own death. “I know of no way to break this enchantment.”

For sure, mime-craft wasn’t doing it. “Cut it out,” I said to Chance. “There are four walls…we get it.”

Expression sheepish, he returned to my side and slid an arm around my shoulders. “Unbelievable, right?”

“Yep.” I pointed at the carriage. “You might want to put that back in the box. It’s taking up a lot of room. I figure the spell goes both ways?”

Greydusk nodded. Having something to do seemed to help it. I held out my hand for Chance’s backpack. Once he handed it over, I dug for grimoires. If we had limited time to figure out a way out of this before our captors arrived, I wanted to be ready. I flipped open the blue book and started reading.

Most of the spells weren’t helpful. My mother had been a white witch, one who believed in getting back to nature, so there were lots of charms for growing plants and discouraging animals from rummaging around in your garden. If I wanted a life like that, I’d never have to worry about gophers eating my veggies. Unfortunately, I didn’t see a damn thing that could get us out of a magus trap.

“Balls,” I muttered.

Chance knelt beside me. “No luck?”

It was fantastic that he sounded surprised, as if he thought enough of my abilities that I could cast something that would help. Min’s abilities were quieter, though I did believe her salves and creams had magickal healing properties. His mother went more for result than special effects, and Lily’s ability hadn’t been flashy either. I mean, when she went astral, she just laid there. Not exactly ostentatious.

“Would you mind skimming the red one for me?” In my bones I knew we had to hurry.

“Of course.” He took it and sank down beside me. “Can you cast all of these?”

“More or less.”

I didn’t admit I hadn’t practiced them all. Especially not the gopher spells. Glancing up, I had an idea, so I plucked a small stone from the ground, stood, and threw it upward as hard as I could. At twenty feet or so, it plinked into an invisible ceiling and came back down. That was probably why the quasits weren’t inside with us and instead had to content themselves with taunting from outside.

Then it hit me. I’d touched the ground. Picked up a rock. Which meant this thing had no floor. Chewing my lip in delighted inspiration, I ripped the red grimoire out of Chance’s hands with an apologetic look. I flipped the pages madly until I found the spell I wanted…and then sighed in relief when I saw it had no herbal components. Thank you, Mom. I read it four times, memorizing the related sigils.

It was risky as hell, but I might be able to reverse-engineer this. Her spell was designed to drive away gophers. If I tweaked it and cast it backward, I might be able to attract tunneling creatures. And that would give us a way out, provided whatever I summoned didn’t eat us. Chance knew I’d figured something out, but he didn’t ask. He just made room. Greydusk watched me with hope dawning in its expression, like it believed I might be able to break us out of the indestructible snare. Watch me try.

I drew my athame and brought my magick up, so that it flared in sparks from my fingertips. In the air, I etched one symbol in reverse order while the energy swirled around me in dark circles. Casting felt different in Sheol, darker and more dire. Would my halo show my trip to the underworld as well? I’d be lucky if I didn’t become kill on sight to all other gifted humans hereafter, but I couldn’t worry about that now. The spell swelled to a crescendo, pain boiled up from my belly, through my hips, and down my arms to flash from my fingertips.

“Advenio,” I shouted as I released it.

Arrive.

And something did. The ground rumbled beneath our feet, starting far away and closing the distance with terrible speed. Rocks trembled as the creature came, frantic to answer my call. The impact shook me to my knees