the Big Bang.”
“What’s the Big Bang?”
Art is silent for a long time. Then, in a dejected tone, he says, “This is going to be harder than we thought.”
More worlds and chambers. I doze during some of the journey. In the demon universe I can go weeks or months without sleep,
but here I grow tired, just as I do on Earth. I start to wonder how long we’ve been traveling.
“This is the fourth day,” Art answers.
“How much longer will it take?”
“I cannot say.”
“A week?” I snap. “A month? Years?” I lick my lips and ask quietly, “You
will
take me back, won’t you?”
There’s a pause. “If you choose to return, we—”
“What do you mean?” I roar. “Of course I’ll return! Why shouldn’t I? Are you going to try to—”
“Peace,” Art hushes me. “The choice will be yours. I don’t think you’ll want to go back, but we will not prevent you from
following your destiny.”
“I’ll definitely want to go back,” I growl.
“You should not make such sweeping statements,” Art says. “When you went in search of the demon masquerading as your brother,
you were certain you’d return home when you found him, but you didn’t. There are no certainties except death. And even that—”
Whatever he was about to say is lost, because we pass through a window into a chamber made of moss-covered stones. And the
place is crawling with demons.
They’re foul beasts, shaped like horses, but their flesh is rotting away and their bones poke through. Yellow blood drips
down their legs from their rib cages. The heads are larger than on any horse I’ve seen, and each has two sets of mouths, one
above the other. There are no teeth—instead, human-looking fingernails jut out of their gums, blood and drool dribbling between
the cracks.
The demons had been fighting or playing with one another—hard to tell with these monsters—but they stop when we pop out in
the middle of them. Then, with howls of hunger and delight, they hurl themselves at us.
I react automatically and fire a ball of energy at the nearest beast, then leap clear, onto one of the higher stones of the
chamber. The roof caved in long ago and I can see out. A quick survey of the land beyond reveals a scorched, ruined world
teeming with monsters. A massive demon is rising into the air a few miles away. Hundreds of beasts are clinging to it, or
settled on its back in rows. Fleshy strands dangle from its stomach. Large rocks are attached to the lower ends.
A horse-demon jumps, rears its hooves, and slashes at my throat. I duck, slam my shoulder into its face, and knock it back.
“Art!” I scream as others come pounding closer.
“Cover your eyes,” Art says. “Use magic as well as your hands.”
“What good will that do?” I yell, jumping to another stone.
There’s a flash of light and my eyes melt in their sockets. The pain is intense but nothing new. It’s just like when my original
eyes were stabbed out.
As I howl and fight off waves of pain and madness, Art says, “You should have done what I told you. These demons are called
the Sligstata. Light is my only weapon against them. Most can construct new eyes, as you can, but you have done it before,
so you should be faster. Set to work immediately, but focus your other senses on the Sligstata. You can avoid them if you
concentrate.”
“But I can’t see!” I howl. “I’m blind!”
“You’ll be dead if you don’t do what I tell you,” Art snarls. There’s real fear in his tone. “I can’t fight these creatures,
even if I turn into Artery—there are too many. I can blind them again, but they’ll soon grow wise to that trick. I’m opening
a new window but it will take a few minutes. You must defend yourself.”
I curse the Old Creature, then set to work on building a new pair of eyes. It was a long, complicated process before, but
this time they grow swiftly, smoothly.
As the eyes form, I listen to the
“What’s the Big Bang?”
Art is silent for a long time. Then, in a dejected tone, he says, “This is going to be harder than we thought.”
More worlds and chambers. I doze during some of the journey. In the demon universe I can go weeks or months without sleep,
but here I grow tired, just as I do on Earth. I start to wonder how long we’ve been traveling.
“This is the fourth day,” Art answers.
“How much longer will it take?”
“I cannot say.”
“A week?” I snap. “A month? Years?” I lick my lips and ask quietly, “You
will
take me back, won’t you?”
There’s a pause. “If you choose to return, we—”
“What do you mean?” I roar. “Of course I’ll return! Why shouldn’t I? Are you going to try to—”
“Peace,” Art hushes me. “The choice will be yours. I don’t think you’ll want to go back, but we will not prevent you from
following your destiny.”
“I’ll definitely want to go back,” I growl.
“You should not make such sweeping statements,” Art says. “When you went in search of the demon masquerading as your brother,
you were certain you’d return home when you found him, but you didn’t. There are no certainties except death. And even that—”
Whatever he was about to say is lost, because we pass through a window into a chamber made of moss-covered stones. And the
place is crawling with demons.
They’re foul beasts, shaped like horses, but their flesh is rotting away and their bones poke through. Yellow blood drips
down their legs from their rib cages. The heads are larger than on any horse I’ve seen, and each has two sets of mouths, one
above the other. There are no teeth—instead, human-looking fingernails jut out of their gums, blood and drool dribbling between
the cracks.
The demons had been fighting or playing with one another—hard to tell with these monsters—but they stop when we pop out in
the middle of them. Then, with howls of hunger and delight, they hurl themselves at us.
I react automatically and fire a ball of energy at the nearest beast, then leap clear, onto one of the higher stones of the
chamber. The roof caved in long ago and I can see out. A quick survey of the land beyond reveals a scorched, ruined world
teeming with monsters. A massive demon is rising into the air a few miles away. Hundreds of beasts are clinging to it, or
settled on its back in rows. Fleshy strands dangle from its stomach. Large rocks are attached to the lower ends.
A horse-demon jumps, rears its hooves, and slashes at my throat. I duck, slam my shoulder into its face, and knock it back.
“Art!” I scream as others come pounding closer.
“Cover your eyes,” Art says. “Use magic as well as your hands.”
“What good will that do?” I yell, jumping to another stone.
There’s a flash of light and my eyes melt in their sockets. The pain is intense but nothing new. It’s just like when my original
eyes were stabbed out.
As I howl and fight off waves of pain and madness, Art says, “You should have done what I told you. These demons are called
the Sligstata. Light is my only weapon against them. Most can construct new eyes, as you can, but you have done it before,
so you should be faster. Set to work immediately, but focus your other senses on the Sligstata. You can avoid them if you
concentrate.”
“But I can’t see!” I howl. “I’m blind!”
“You’ll be dead if you don’t do what I tell you,” Art snarls. There’s real fear in his tone. “I can’t fight these creatures,
even if I turn into Artery—there are too many. I can blind them again, but they’ll soon grow wise to that trick. I’m opening
a new window but it will take a few minutes. You must defend yourself.”
I curse the Old Creature, then set to work on building a new pair of eyes. It was a long, complicated process before, but
this time they grow swiftly, smoothly.
As the eyes form, I listen to the
Similar Books
