Prisoner Page 2

  Xik knew, in fact, that Beelzebub had fourteen different such methods at his disposal, but he decided not to bring that up. “I'm not threatening you,” Xik said. “I'm stating facts. As the situation stands, the Vorid will consume humanity. When that happens, the soul stream flowing between your worlds will grind to a halt. The prison will fail. How could it not? There won't be any more souls. You can't amend that portion of the treaty, or you would have already done it.”

  “Now I understand,” Beelzebub said. “If the prison opens after the Vorid have finished with Earth, you're worried they'll eat it for dessert, aren't you?”

  “My understanding is that it would be problematic.”

  “Problematic does not describe what would happen if the prison breaks,” Beelzebub snapped. “You don’t understand what you’re tampering with.” His eyes burned with anger. “You probably think that even if the worst comes to pass, you’ll simply walk away, move on to your next diplomatic mission. You won’t be able to save yourself from what is inside of Hell, I assure you. You’ll be eaten alive, along with everything else in its path.”

  Xik was taken aback. Beelzebub's outburst could be construed as frustration with Xik's ignorance, but that seemed unlikely. He was truly frightened at the idea of the prison failing.

  That fear only solidified Xik’s strategy.

  He decided to change the subject. “Daniel made himself the focal point of my plans, and now he's in your control. That makes you the focal point of my plans.” Xik placed his fingertips together. “It's ironic. He was so apathetic, at first, so detached. Maybe that's precisely why he performed better—he wasn't as invested. Those with the power of contractors can be...unstable. Maybe it's the experience. Power tends to change people.”

  “You really enjoy wasting my time, don't you?” Beelzebub asked.

  “I wouldn’t have wasted it if I could wrench him straight out of Hell,” Xik said, “but I need your help to alter the seal.”

  Beelzebub inhaled sharply between his teeth. “You tampered with the spell?”

  “It was the first thing I tried,” Xik said, “but it's quite a monstrosity. Linked to you, linked to several humans on Earth, linked between universes...we don't use such magic. I couldn't touch the important bits without the whole thing imploding in on itself.”

  Beelzebub became still—very still. Too still, as if he were trying not to show a reaction. He was holding his breath.

  Ah, Xik thought. Not so confident now, are you?

  “Of course,” Xik said, “I have a third option on this meandering road of consolidation. Neither you nor Daniel. The prisoner of Hell.” Xik smiled. “But if half your records are true, then we don't want to go there all willy-nilly, do we?”

  “Records.” Beelzebub snorted a cloud of smoke. “I lived it. I know what information you think you’ve gleaned. I didn’t put the real knowledge somewhere anyone else could access.” Beelzebub gestured at himself. “I’m the only record of that incident. I’ll tell you this: you can’t control that power, and you can’t destroy it. That’s why we had to seal it away. If there are still more powerful Vorid, I imagine it would be something like them.”

  “A disturbing prospect.” Xik put his hands on the arms of his chair and stood. He was tall himself, in his own spindly way—enough to match the emperor's height—though it was rather like a twig facing off against a log of redwood. “So let’s not go there. Better the devil I know, than the devil I don't, as the humans say.”

  Beelzebub made a displeased grunt.

  “You are my primary means of moving the development of your twin universes forward,” Xik said. “Another link in the fence holding back the Vorid.”

  “Another link in the fence.” Beelzebub looked at him. “It's really quite something.”

  “It is,” Xik said, tipping his head to the side, “but I get the feeling you're referring to something else.”

  “This was planned from the beginning,” Beelzebub said, “wasn't it? Why bet on a lone toss of the die when you can throw a fistful of them? You created foot soldiers designed to collect and funnel power to one source—the sole individual that would absorb all the others. All under your watch.”

  “And that so happens to be you. It was almost Daniel.” Xik's tone gained a distant melancholy, as if he was recalling a car accident that happened to the friend of a friend in the next town over. “He’s a nice young man, once you get to know him. He never liked power. But power doesn’t like him, either.”

  Light flickered in through the windows. A hovercar was passing near the office tower. The shadows of the furniture flashed to the left, then rotated right across the room as the vehicle flew by. Beelzebub's skin shifted from maroon to bright red. Xik's top hat cast his eyes in a line of darkness.

  “How did the magicians capture him?” Beelzebub asked.

  “He gave himself up to prove he was on their side,” Xik said.

  Beelzebub made a disparaging noise in the back of his throat. “When is he arriving in Hell?”

  “Right about...” Xik looked up at the ceiling in thought. “Now.”

  Beelzebub growled a sigh. A cloud of smoke escaped from between his fangs. “Are you enjoying yourself, Xik?”

  “No, Your Excellency. I don't enjoy any part of this.”

  “I don't think I believe that.” Beelzebub clasped his hands behind his back. “Alright, ambassador. I’ll convince Daniel to take care of business down below, and I will gather my forces to assist Earth. In exchange, you'll grant me this enchantment.”

  Xik nodded. “I'll pay half now, and half later,” he said.

  “Clarify.”

  “I'll enable you to absorb the power of the souls you slay—except for humans, and my contractors,” Xik said. “None of that until the Vorid are taken care of. They're the real threat.”

  “All these restrictions,” Beelzebub said. His smile could have sharpened knives. “Certainly you don’t think I’m that untrustworthy?”

  “I trust you to act in your own best interest,” Xik said.

  “Fair enough, Xikanthus,” Beelzebub said. “And when Daniel's side is done, and Earth is secured...”

  “I'll complete your enchantment, and him and the rest are fair game,” Xik said. “He’d be a sitting duck in your prison. What you do after that is your business, so long as you stand a vigil against future Vorid incursions.”

  “I can come up with something to keep the boy motivated,” Beelzebub said. “Keep him killing.”

  “That would do nicely,” Xik said. “The stronger he becomes, the stronger, in turn, you will be.”

  “When will I receive the first half of the enchantment?”

  “As soon as I’ve determined your army has in fact arrived to reinforce Earth’s magicians,” Xik said.

  “Then we have an accord,” Beelzebub said. “Now get out of my office. You’ve made a wreck of my schedule.”

  Xik was prepared to transport himself away, but a vibration under his left sleeve stopped him. He walked out the mundane way, closing the office door behind him. Probably best to keep Beelzebub’s observation of Klide magic to a minimum, in any case.

  As he turned, one of Beelzebub's aides—another red-skinned devil—swept around the corner of the hallway, his walk hurried and anxious. Xik stepped out of the way. The devil passed the Klide ambassador without so much as looking at him, then rapped on the door. Beelzebub's voice called for entry, and Xik darted around the corner; he didn't want to be caught lingering.

  All the hallways in the imperial capital building looked the same. The walls were covered with yellowed paint that might have once been off-white. The carpet was tan. Sterile white light shone from scattered track lighting. The place was intense in its plainness.

  Xik had studied Beelzebub carefully; he studied everyone he met with on his missions before speaking to them. The emperor’s financial and political empire was garish on the outside, complete with publicity stunts, show trials, and the crown jewel, PrisonWatch. Inside—like the interior of the office, and the decor of the halls—it was strictly functional, worn down to the most efficient minimum possible. He hid a highly functional machine underneath an outer shield of bravado and intimidation. The thousands of years of stable rule, give or take a few recent rebellions, informed Xik that the strategy was effective.

  Outside a small zone of quiet that surrounded Beelzebub's central office, bureaucrats, officials, and military personnel scurried about in a dance of uniforms and clearance badges. Between the demons zipped small drones powered by a combination of physical principles and magical sigils. Most of them carried private messages between parts of the building; this reduced the risk of outside interception. If the need arose, they would swarm and eliminate any intruder. Xik observed them with the same casual interest modern humans might consider a carrier pigeon.

  Xik passed the drones and the demons of all shapes and sizes without raising a glance, let alone an alarm—though he did have to duck a few times for passing robots. They would have passed through him, but at that distance, even their weak sensors might detect his magic.

  Once he found an intersection that was relatively isolated, he reached into his sleeve and withdrew a small metal disc. A point of purple light glowed in its center. He pressed it.

  The disc beeped. Blue lettering was flung up onto the wall in front of him.

  Xikanthus Vol'mund Dovian pom’Nafalstra,

  Universes KDY.234skz943.gamma 21.67-A and 21.67-B and Special Class World 21.67-C have passed your requested awareness review. Their collective Import Class has been raised accordingly from C-5 to B-2. Your allotted energy conduit has been increased to reflect this. Specific requests for temporary injections into your conduit may now be presented to the Board for review. Please allow seve
ral hours before requisition is necessary and submit detailed action plans to help streamline the review process. Contact your direct supervisor with questions or concerns.

  Thank you for your continued work,

  Anti-Vorid Bureau Review Board, KDY Sector

  Assistant Board Member Gravan Kal'Seckt Tremb pom'Kash

  Xik dragged his finger across the disc, scrolling down the message. Underneath the formal letter was an attached note from his supervisor.

  Xikanthus,

  You got your approval. If that's not enough to help with your little master plan, then tough luck, you’re stuck with the fallback strategy. So don't screw up.

  And don't get yourself directly involved in the combat again. We don't need another BYT.alpha. The press eviscerated us last time, and if heads have to roll, yours is hitting the floor before mine.

  I mean it.

  — Libannon

  Import Class B-2. That was better than he'd hoped for; more than a full letter grade.

  Xik tapped the purple dot, and the blue projection on the wall vanished. The disc flew from his palm and reattached itself to the inside of his sleeve. He started off down the hall.

  Beelzebub was a dangerous element—more unpredictable and capable than Xik initially estimated, and not to be trusted. But in the grand scale of this conflict, the threat he posed simply didn't matter. In front of a black hole, what difference did it make if the star was red or yellow? Everything was sucked in and crushed down just the same.

  Xik began to vanish into midair, starting at his shoes, then working up his legs; and then his arms and torso began to vaporize. The last thing to go was his broad grin, a wide smile that pulled his skin tight like green plastic wrap stretched around bone.

  Chapter 1

  Down the Rabbit Hole

  Daniel stood in darkness.

  The doors of Hell had shut behind him. He was cut off from his magic. The magicians on Earth were fine with letting the theater burn down as long as they had the best seat in the house. Xik hadn't bailed him out. The frog had only confirmed the worst.

  Rachel was dead.

  There were wails around him, screams cutting through the air. He stood where he was, unmoving, head down. He couldn't see his feet. He imagined things creeping toward him, ready to grab him and drag him into the dark.

  Daniel's jaw ached. His face felt clenched and twisted, his features crushed between anger and fear. He felt a cold chill on his back and shivered.

  White lights slammed on. Daniel winced and blinked rapidly. His wrists were still bound by the stone bracers placed on him back on Earth, so all he could do was raise his arms and try to shield his eyes as best he could.

  “Great take everybody! Wrap it up and get it ready for the evening broadcast. These contractor guys always give the ratings a kick.”

  Daniel was baffled. His eyes began to adjust, and the scene in front of him came into focus.

  Several white floodlights lined one wall, illuminating the inside of the entrance to the prison. The stone around Daniel ended only a few feet away, transforming from medieval balustrades and gothic carvings into plain grey concrete—as if he was standing on the business end of a photoshoot, and the industrial backdrop was now plain to see.

  People were moving around the lights—demons.

  A gnome ran under a wooden sawhorse, clutching a glowing blue sphere in his tiny hands. Stomping in the opposite direction was a hulking minotaur, a humanoid monstrosity with a head like a bull and hooves for feet. A stone column the size of a telephone pole was hefted over one of its shoulders. An ink-black creature hovering at the minotaur's opposite shoulder made Daniel flinch—that was a nightmare, a skeletal beast that could phase through solid objects. They'd hounded Daniel for days back in New York, trying to catch him off guard and rip his guts out. And now one was angrily jabbing a claw in consternation and demanding the column be adjusted a few inches to the right. The minotaur made frustrated noises as it shifted the burden.

  Daniel turned, and his mind spun faster than his gaze as he watched several of them help themselves to food laid out on a table behind the production equipment. A tall, crow-headed harpy was picking at finger sandwiches with its beak, tossing them into the air, then gulping them down. Surrounding the harpy were imps, little green-skinned goblins dotted with warts across their noses and foreheads. Next to the imps was what looked like a woman with sky blue skin and deep, electric-blue hair, though she was facing away from him. The fins protruding from above her ears made her inhuman enough that he didn't want to see her face.

  Daniel almost felt relief when he saw a normal person near the gaggle of imps—and then he saw the scales going up the back of its shoulders and neck, and the raptor claw jutting from its ankles and clacking on the ground.

  “Clear the set! We've got the brothers coming up in two minutes!”

  “I thought you told them to space the sendings out at least five minutes.”

  “It wasn't them. Humans screwed it up.”

  “Why am I not surprised?”

  “Hey kid, move it! Get out from in front of the gate!”

  Daniel froze up. He was pretty sure they meant him, though he wasn't sure who was speaking to him. He took a hesitant step forward. His eyes darted around, trying to take in something that made sense.

  “Everyone relax. He doesn't know any better.”

  Daniel turned his head toward the voice. A red-skinned horror stalking toward him was the voice of reason in question. It looked like a normal man wearing a relatively normal white shirt, except the man was dipped in firetruck red paint, had black marbles for eyes, grew rows of teeth like white razorblades, and had its nose ripped off and sealed up with more paint.

  Holy shit.

  It offered a hand that ended in black needle-nails, then drew it back, frowning. “You've still got the handcuffs? I don't know who's sending you people down here, but they really don't get the procedure right. Alright, follow me. I'll explain.”

  The red thing turned and started walking away. Daniel hesitated, glanced at the heavy stone keeping his wrists clamped in front of him, then started after it. “Wait, wait! What the hell is happening?”

  “You're in Hell,” the thing said, not slowing its pace. “We'll walk and talk, okay? You've got places to be.”

  They quickly left the noisy circus of a set behind and entered a uniform concrete hallway that led straight into the complex. Pipes and cables ran along the ceiling, some of it bunched together, other pieces hanging loose and haphazard. Green lights glowed above the tangle of factory-like exposure, giving it the feeling of a crammed hallway at the bottom of a dilapidated submarine. The light stained the demon's white shirt the same color green.

  Sounds from deeper inside churned around them, sometimes vibrating and rumbling under their feet, as if they were headed into the belly of the great machine behind the scenes of Alice in Wonderland. It smelled like a tire factory. Daniel swapped between frowns of confusion and quick, paranoid glances over his shoulder.

  “I'm getting pretty good at the whole two-minute explanations thing,” the creature said. “Here, let me do this first.”

  The demon turned on him, a claw raised high. Daniel recoiled, feet churning backward. With his hands bound in front of him, he quickly lost his balance; his back thunked into the side of the passageway. He leaned against it, breathing, eyes locked on the claw.

  “You on drugs or something?” the creature said. Smoke wisped out of its mouth. “Yeah, I get it. I'm pretty freaky looking, huh? You're a gruesome bastard yourself with that nob of skin hanging off your face.”

  Daniel's jackhammering heart started to settle. He straightened off the wall. “At the risk of sounding like a total asshole,” Daniel said, “the thought had crossed my mind.”

  “Hey, he has a sense of humor,” it said. “Good laugh gets you through anything, right?”

  Daniel was entirely uncomfortable hearing those words hissing from between its shark teeth, but he decided that it would be best to agree, so he nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Right,” the creature said. “I'm...you know what, I'll skip my full name. Your tongues don't really handle it, even with the spell doing the translating. You can call me Nip. I'm a devil.”