Maybe they wouldn’t care. So far that I’d seen, magi were arrogant, rude, over-confident creatures and the witches were cowed, timid things. No wonder nothing had changed in centuries. Neither the ‘goyles nor the demons were timid or cowed, though the demons definitely were arrogant, rude, and over-confident.
Maybe we were too.
I was guessing Pruflas thought so.
Grinning, I joined in with the welcomes and the introductions, surprised at the level of camaraderie. “Is this a prison or a summer camp?” I asked the guy assigned to show us the ropes.
He snorted. “It’s all right here because we keep it that way. There are other factions that aren’t so nice. Others that fight. It isn’t all sugarplums and rainbows.”
“Good.”
“Yeah, of course you’d say that, the size of you. What are you, six feet five? Six?”
I shrugged, not understanding the measurements. I was taller than six of his feet and six of my feet combined, so that made little sense. “Tall enough.”
He grunted. “‘Suppose so. Name’s Larry.”
“Mayhem.”
Larry blinked. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Nope. Earned it on my name day, granite kill you.”
“Uh, granite what me?”
I flapped a hand at him, telling him to never mind. “Where are the women kept? There is someone I need to find.”
“Oh, well, here’s the thing. These tunnels all circle around to each other, though the magi don’t know that we know that. Some witches long ago tunneled their way through and runed it up to keep the magi from finding them out. It means we can’t all be inside at once. It also means you go in at your own risk since there aren’t any guards, any wards, any anything to keep you alive. There’s a place to leave notes for your lady friend there.”
I nodded. “She’s not my lady friend yet. I’m here to watch out for her.”
He eyed me, my bulk, and said, “She’s in good hands. No funny business in there, though. No fighting. No illegal spelling. We do too much magic and they’ll realize what’s going on and shut it down. The fool who gets the post office around the world shut down gets shanked.”
I raised an eyebrow. “The post office? Around the world?”
Larry just shrugged as if it were just the way it was and I could take it or leave it.
“How do I get word I want to talk with her, then? If she doesn’t know to look in the post office?”
“Ask one of the ladies that do show up to carry her a note. Do you know what tunnel she’s in?”
I shook my head.
“Is she relatively new? What’s she in for?”
“A few days ago, and murder.”
Larry whistled. “Probably H block then. It’s for the most serious offenders. Head on down thataway and you can get your protecting started.” He gestured and then wandered away, chatting with the other new prisoners.
I made my way to the far end of the tunnel, which appeared to end in dark gloom and a solid wall. From here, the guards couldn’t see me, the shadows were so thick. I pushed through the magic into a large room filled with witches of all types. It looked to be some sort of long ago station. An old clock soared in the center, its hands missing, its face dusty and stained with mold.
Some of the witches congregated in the big room were buying things, some selling, a few were having sex. Most were just huddled in clumps looking miserable. One wall was filled with cubbies and a few witches stood before these, stuffing notes into free spaces.
“Anyone here from H block on the women’s side?” I said, projecting my voice the way any ‘goyle could. It wasn’t as loud as my ‘goyle roar because there were limitations on this fleshy witch body, but it was loud enough to get most of the witches assembled to shut up.
After a moment, a woman with slicked-back hair and pretty golden eyes said, “I am.”
I smiled down at her. “Do you know Poppy Ballinger? About this high, skin a little darker than mine, black curly hair.” At her apologetic blank stare, I added, “She killed Kyle Klein?”
“Oh! We call her B, some of us. B for bloody.” She gave a weak laugh, then said, “I know her, yeah.”
“Good. Will you go get her and bring her here for me?”
Her eyes grew wide. “Oh no, I couldn’t.”
“Why not?”
Her eyes darted to the side. “She’s … well, she’s uh.”
Something about her, the way she cringed into herself made me wonder what the hell she was trying to hide. “Where is she?” I asked. “Tell me now if you value your life.”
She cringed further, then leaned in close to whisper, “They followed her in there.” She pointed with a shaky hand then darted away, presumably back to H block.
I followed her finger to the dark mouth of another tunnel, this one much smaller. I was headed there when I heard Crush call my name from across the room. “Hurry,” I returned, and then ducked into the tunnel. It got narrower as I went and when I got to a spot where I couldn’t get through, I whispered to the rocks, “Can you help a brother out?”
The rock did, slowly, its pleasure at being recognized as a sentient thing filling my head with sweet music. When it had widened itself sufficiently, I told it thank you and pressed on. Behind me, I heard it move again for Crush.
Soon, I could hear voices, the low tones of a male and higher tones of a woman. The woman was pissed off. The guy was in pain. I moved faster, not quite running toward the sound. It would suck demon balls if Poppy died before I had a chance to even meet her.
When I finally skidded to a stop in the small cavern, Poppy Ballinger was pressed against the floor, a shiv at her throat. I recognized her immediately from Korri’s description, though the new Queen of Hell hadn’t said how beautiful
