“’Elysian, windless, fortunate abodes // Beyond Heaven’s constellated wilderness.’ Prometheus Unbound, Percy Bysshe Shelley.”
“Gee, and I can’t imagine why my guidance counselors keep steering me away from an English Lit degree.”
“I could also do you a great wanking piece from Henry V,” he told her, changing lanes on Days Road, “but the city’s not sanding as much as they used to and last night’s snow is a bit packed in.”
“I vote you pay attention to the road. You could even speed if you feel up to it.”
“In a hurry.”
“Definitely.”
“Meeting a boy?”
“What happened to paying attention to the road?”
“Just asking.” His reflection frowned slightly. “You got a cat back there?”
“No.” It came out a little fast, but Diana thought it still sounded sincere. The last thing she wanted to do was mess with a Bystander’s mind in a moving vehicle. Okay, not the last thing, but it was definitely in the top ten somewhere between seeing the N’Sync movie and having a root canal. “It’s just a backpack.”
“You think you could get it to stop sharpening its claws on the back of my seat?”
“If she opens the way…”
“It, not she. It’s a piece of darkness given physical form, it’s not a person.”
Ducking back into the right lane to pass a Mazda Miata toddling along at a mere twenty kilometers over the limit, Dean shook his head. “Diana seems some certain there’s a person involved.”
“Diana also believes that The Cure is the best band in the world.”
“They’re decent,” Dean acknowledged.
Trying not to feel old, Claire stroked a comforting hand down Austin’s back, but whether she was comforting him or herself, she couldn’t say. “It won’t be that easy to reopen the site. There were three Keepers involved in closing it, as well as you and Jacques, and it’s not that easy to find a hotel keeper from Newfoundland and the ghost of a French Canadian sailor in downtown Kingston on a Wednesday afternoon during the Christmas holidays.”
“On a Saturday night in mid-January?”
“Not impossible.”
“Demons have their own connection to darkness,” Austin reminded her. “She won’t need to reproduce all the factors.”
“It,” Claire reminded him. “And I know. But all the convolutions should slow it down.”
“Should?” Dean wondered.
“Will. Why are you slowing down?”
“Exit ramp.”
“Right.”
“And there’s a police cruiser on the shoulder up ahead.”
“Let me worry about that.” Reaching into the possibilities, Claire reset the radar gun to the Disney Channel. “You just drive.”
There was no trap on or around the furnace room door.
Standing at the top of the stairs leading down to the bedrock floor, Byleth wet her lips and stepped forward. One step. Two.
No Cousin. So far, no Keepers.
“Oh, sure, ignore me all you want, but I’m not going away.” The slight echo in the room made her sound more petulant than defiant. Definitely the echo…
On the bottom step, she paused, suddenly worried she was about to do the wrong thing.
“Wait a minute.” The smack, palm to head, was a little harder than it needed to be. “I’m supposed to be doing the wrong thing.” Stepping off onto the floor, she walked quickly to where the memory was the strongest and, before yet another mood swing could come along, dropped to her knees, placing her hands flat against the stone. The connection was there, but what should have been a rush of power revitalizing every dark molecule of her being was no more than a mere trickle of low-end possibilities it took forehead-furrowing concentration to feel.
WE’RE SORRY, THE NUMBER YOU HAVE DIALED IS NOT IN SERVICE. PLEASE INSCRIBE A PENTAGRAM AND TRY AGAIN.
“Oh, for…” Both palms slapped down hard. “I don’t need a freaking pentagram, I’m a piece of you!” All the hair on the back of her neck lifted as her anger lent the connection new strength. They were listening down there, no doubt about it; probably arguing about who was going to take the call. “This isn’t evil, guys, this is irritating. Do you want to be released into the world or not? I’ve got better things to do than sit around waiting for you to get your head out of your ass.”
HEY! THERE’S NO NEED TO BE INSULTING.
Byleth sat back on her heels. “Got your attention, so apparently there is.”
YOU’VE BEEN CORRUPTED BY THE WORLD.
WE HARDLY RECOGNIZED YOU.
Hell sighed. THEY GROW UP SO FAST.
“Look there’s a Keeper coming…”
WE FEEL ONLY YOU.
BECAUSE THERE’S NO ACTUAL HOLE, IDIOT.
OW.
Didn’t miss that, Byleth remembered. “The point you’re not listening to is that we don’t have much time so like pull it together into one voice, would you, and tell me how to reopen this thing.”
In the long pause that followed she had the strangest feeling Hell was about to ask if she was sure, if she really wanted to wrap the world in a shroud of darkness and pain. All the world, including the Porters and that axworthy guy in the music store and Leslie/Deter and his car. Which was ridiculous because Hell as a general rule could care less about the opinions of and/or motivations of those who offered it a chance to release chaos.
She bit her lip almost hard enough to draw blood.
Was she sure?
ALL RIGHT, HERE’S WHAT YOU HAVE TO DO.…
Too late anyway.
“It doesn’t look like it’s open.”
“That doesn’t matter,” Diana told him, handing over the last of her Christmas money. “The guy who runs this place is a Cousin.”
“Ah, yes, family, where they always have to take you in. ‘A happy family is but an earlier heaven.’ John Bowring.”
“And this particular family is trying to prevent an earlier Hell.” Backpack on her lap, she slid out the door and straightened. “Keep the change.”
“’There is a certain relief in change, even though it be from bad to worse.’ Washington Irving.”
Smiling tightly, Diana slammed the cab door. “Get a life,” she advised as he drove off, then she turned and raced up the porch stairs, ignoring Samuel’s muffled protests as he banged against the small of her back. Once inside, she
