Devil's Punch by Ann Aguirre Page B

would be, if I could’ve glimpsed the viewduring the day. At this time of night, it was all darkness, with stars glimmering just enough light to render the mountain spooky, and the glow from my athame only added to the eerie atmosphere.
    â€œThis way.” As the demon pressed forward, I saw the gaping maw between two giant stones.
    This cave mouth yawned so that my witchlight couldn’t penetrate the shadows within; it had to be two hundred feet wide by one hundred feet high, and I couldn’t tell how deep it was. I’d read that Mexico had some of the deepest caverns in North America, and that many of the systems hadn’t been fully explored yet. For obvious reasons, this chilled my blood.
    I asked, “How far is it?”
    â€œLet’s see…how to parse it so you’ll understand.” This made me think demons used something other than the metric system. “Ten kilometers horizontally, and one kilometer down. There we shall find the entrance to Sheol.”
    Chance appeared to weigh the information. “And what dangers will we face?”
    â€œDarkness. Terror. The odd hungry beast.” If demons had a sense of humor, and from Maury I rather thought they did, this one was joking with us.
Ha ha
. “The closer we get, the more likely it is that something may…pass through.”
    â€œAre there other portals?” I asked.
    â€œCertainly. Weak places between the planes offer the potential for two-way passage. They also constructed magickal gates at various locales that offer one-way transit. And no, I will not tell you where.”
    I didn’t expect it to. “Let’s get moving, then.”
    The mouth of the cave swallowed us, but my light pushed the darkness back. The demon didn’t ask me to put it out, which was just as well. There was no way I trusted the creature enough to proceed otherwise. Greydusk led, I followed close behind, and Chance walked at my back. I was relieved to have him there because without him, my nerve might not have been sufficient to go on, even for Shannon. Butch squirmed in my bag, nohappier than I was, but he didn’t protest. I suspected he understood the importance of the mission.
    In the entrance chamber I shined my light around, finding shamanistic paintings on the walls, shards of broken pottery, and chunks of bone. The floor felt precarious beneath me because it wasn’t one smooth surface; instead it was formed of large rocks wedged together, leaving dangerous gaps where I could see myself getting my foot stuck or breaking an ankle, all too easily.
No bad luck,
I told myself.
Not this time.
The passage sloped downward, as I picked a careful path behind Greydusk.
    We walked for half an hour; I amused myself looking at the ceremonial markings that adorned the walls. The longer we hiked, the colder it got. I couldn’t think about what was waiting for me on the other side. I’d focus on this. Right now. By tacit agreement, we didn’t talk. There was nothing Chance and I cared to discuss in front of our guide, and it kept its dark, creepy eyes on the lookout for potential danger ahead.
    It’s for Shannon,
I told myself.
    Memories flashed in rapid succession: of meeting her in Kilmer, her riding the bike out to the spooky house we’d rented, and then later begging me not to leave her behind. I’d never done so. Not once, even against my best judgment. I had done unspeakable things to keep both of us safe. To no avail, it seemed.
    Ten kilometers deep, one kilometer down. It was hard to imagine what we’d find, maybe wonders out of H. G. Wells. Logically I knew that was impossible, but what did that word mean when your boyfriend was a genuine lucky charm and you were pressing into the dark with a demon that had eyes on the side of its head?
    Exactly. We had been hiking for a while when Chance touched me to get my attention. “Are you sure about this?” he asked softly. “We can still