Demon Day (22 page)

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Authors: Penelope Fletcher

BOOK: Demon Day
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I scrunched my eyes closed at the
mention. The burning centered between my shoulder blades was
reminder enough of what had been done to my wings.

There was a scratching noise and a
faint shuffling, as if feet were reluctantly dragging. Then it
morphed into the slap of footsteps as the person drew
nearer.

I felt light pressure on my back as if
someone had poked me. I felt the mildest of irritation overwhelmed
by fear. My eyelids jerked open and I found a last surge of energy
to recoil from the figure hovering over me. The shadow squeaked and
scuttled back. Runt watched me with a fear in his expression that
mirrored my own.

After a moment his trembling stopped.
I groped behind me until my hand connected with the curved wall. I
dragged my aching body back and leaned against it. I lay my head in
my knees, wrapped my arms around my shins, and bit my lip in pain
as my wings curled over to cocoon me. Pockets of light seeped in
through the ragged holes in the thin membrane, damage from the
Clerics knives. Rather than shining gold they looked dull brown,
torn and tattered like crumpled paper.

There were no tears, my eyes were dry,
but they were so itchy they burned, and my breath was raspy. A sob
choked from my throat and echoed through the dungeon. I felt so
pitiful and broken I didn’t think I had enough strength to care
that there was a strong chance the end was dreadfully near for
me.

I would not have moved had he not
stroked me so gently. It was as if a light breeze had disturbed my
hair. I looked up and saw Runt’s huge orb-like eyes blinking at me.
When I saw his long lashes were spiked, wet with tears in an
instant I held out my arms and he crawled into them to cry on my
shoulder. This boney thing in my arms was more comfort that I could
have imagined possible. He was like chicken wire, digging into me,
and I shifted a few times before I found a position that was
comfortable enough to hold him.

I cleared my throat and announced to
the darkness, “I know he’s coming for me. Whatever’s holding
Breandan up is only temporary, but I can’t wait. We need to think
up a plan to get out of here.”


You don’t think we’ve
tried,” Nimah scoffed.


Obviously you weren’t
trying hard enough,” I shot back, tearfully. “We can’t stay here. I
can’t go through … that again.”

Amelia whispered, “I don’t think any
of us can.”

We were all quiet for a long time
after that. Hours passed, and we half-heartedly bounced ideas off
each other, but never did our plans get us further than calling the
Clerics in and fighting them. Each time we got excited one of us
would remember how easily they had subdued us before they had taken
me. We couldn’t get the manacles off our necks because of the iron
and silver draining our strength, and picking the locks was out of
the question. What were we picking them with? We would have to
fight hindered by chains, and with less strength than we were used
to. It wouldn’t work, we all knew it.

It was … strange to go from knowing I
had the potential to be an unbeatable demon, to being unable to
hold a one on one fight with a human because of some
metal.

I knew in the core of me that Breandan
would come for me. I simply had to survive until then.

Most of the day passed in
silence.

My body healed, fixed the damage to
the point of where I only ached a little, but soon I stopped
checking the places they had cut me. My fingers kept finding lumps
and bumps of new flesh. Scars. Lots of scars riddled my skin.
Feeling tears well in my eyes, my breath hitching, I stopped
thinking about it.

I was alive wasn’t I?

I suppose I should have been grateful
for the rest, but my mind was in turmoil. Was this where they had
kept Maeve when they had taken her? I would ask the twins when they
woke, for now Amelia and Nimah slept, curled together, comforting
each other.

Runt stayed by my side, snuffling
occasionally, but was otherwise quiet. I tried to coax him into a
conversation several times, and whilst it was clear he understood
me he did not talk back.

If the Clerics had tortured him like
me, I could understand that he might be mentally damaged. As far as
I was aware, goblins did not heal fast, but were exceptionally
strong and beast like. Most were horribly disfigured, but Runt
looked human, for the most part. His ears were a little too pointy,
and his features a little too spacious, but passable. His lack of
speech became frustrating, as I knew nothing about him, but had
many questions. I remembered vaguely that Ro, a fellow Disciple and
Lex’s steady, had said he caught a goblin-child hiding out near a
church in the slums the day before I had met Breandan. Was this the
goblin he had caught? Amelia had said Runt was a half-breed.
Half-human? What was half-human goblin doing in the middle of the
slum dwells? Did he get lost? Even then how on earth would he have
gotten past the Wall? Was he left there by his demon family? How
did they go undetected by the Sect?

All of these questions went unanswered
since Runt would not speak to me.

Again the door to our prison was
shoved open, and three Clerics filed in. Three of them … could we
manage it?

The shifter-twins shot up, instantly
wide awake, alert. Runt scooted closer to me, his hand slipping
into mine. My heart hammered in my chest, wondering who they had
come for.

They did not attack us this time, but
the Cleric I had thought handsome did speak. “We are going
outside,” he said firmly then unshackled my manacle and tugged on
the chain until I stood. “We’re just going outside,” he repeated
when he did the same to the shifters.

They left Runt chained, and I opened
my mouth to ask why, but closed it again. We were being taken
outside, but why? Intuition told me that for whatever reason the
goblin would be safer here. I swallowed hard. If staying in here
was safer, what did that mean for Amelia, Nimah, and I?

When we left the dungeon, we turned
and walked in the opposite direction of the white room. I
consciously relaxed a tad. We were moving upward, closer to the
earth’s surface, I could tell. In my excitement I sped up, ignoring
when the chain about my neck tugged.

Reaching the end of the passageway,
the Clerics unbolted the heavy steel door and swung it
open.

I hurriedly stepped through it, and a
cool breeze blew into my face, and through the strands of my hair.
I sighed in pleasure. The sun was hidden behind the clouds, and I
was disappointed. Somehow, the sunlight had become stronger than
the dark in my mind. I needed it to chase away the fear and pain,
but I could not reach it.

As if the sky above was mine to
command the clouds parted and a ray of light streamed down to
softly caress my face and warm me. I gasped and let my eyes flutter
closed, basking in the heat and purity of it. It was dusk, the sun
slowly setting, and yet it had never shone brighter.

So lost in this comforting moment was
I, I did not feel the clump to the back of my head until the dull
throb registered.

The light cut off and it was for a
moment utterly dark. But that was because my eyes were pressed
closed, my body hunched, waiting for the next blow to land. I was
not hit again, but pushed forward to catch up with the other
two.

Sputtering fire drums were set
alongside were pathway that snaked round Temple. Each one
flickered, coming to life as the sun puttered out for the day.
Electricity was hard to generate, and the Sect only used it when
every other option was exhausted. Most light came from burning wood
in the fire drums and candles. The electricity generated from the
wind turbines spotted across human land went into keeping the Wall
charged. As the Clerics lead us through the main gate my eyes
darted over the Temple grounds and I felt a pang of longing for the
life I had been forced to leave behind. The Wall was visible in the
distance, peeking out from the forest that called to me. Outside –
demon territory – was once a place that held nothing but terror for
one such as me but was now, and forever my home.

The Clerics stopped and took black
hoods out from their pockets. Nimah and Amelia glanced at each
other, their hands fisted … ready to go down fighting. I remembered
that Maeve had been hooded when Devlin and I freed her when she had
been taken by the Clerics. Perhaps they were going to take us
through the forest like they had her? My heart tripped. It would be
the perfect place and time to escape.


It’s okay,” I said to the
shifter twins, and ducked my own head in submission.

The handsome Cleric looked surprised,
but placed the hood gently over my head. I couldn’t see anything
through the thick material. After a slight pause my chain was
tugged gently and I moved forward carefully, planting my feet so as
not to fall and choke myself. We walked up stairs, over what felt
like marble floor and then down steps, across patchy
grass.

I frowned, becoming somewhat
alarmed.

Okay … we were at Temple. Not outside
it, or next to it, or beneath it … but standing in the main
courtyard in the centre of the main building. I had grown in this
place and I knew its layout like the back of my hand. Oh! We
climbed wooden steps. This was new … the courtyard I remembered had
a path through it that split into an oval to allow for five huge
boulders in the centre, before the path came together again to lead
to the other side. From the dull thuds my feet made on the ground I
assumed we stood on a wooden platform.

The hood was pulled off my head and I
blinked, scowled. Being the shortest person in the group I couldn’t
see over the Clerics broad backs. I stood on my tiptoes to see over
their shoulders. I blinked again, repeatedly, stunned.

Several hundred pairs of young human
eyes stared at me, and I stared back.

The Sect Disciples looked terrified,
confused. They stood in formation, a sea of green blazers and
heaving chests. Some of the girls choked back sobs, their fear
getting the better of them. Boy Disciples tended to leave their
chests bare under the green blazers, but most wore jumpers now the
days were getting colder. The girls were wrapped up too, but still
rocked their blazers shorn at the elbow or tied around the waist to
show off their lower stomach and back tattoos; protective marks
stolen from defeated witches.


Rae?” Ro’s voice was a
razor across my eardrums. I heard no hate in his voice, only pain
and loss.

Skin milky-brown, his ebony hair was
plaited back in thick cornrows. His black-rimmed eyes always looked
overly large in his lean face, and his blazer hung open to show his
naked chest, belly piercing, and slum-tribe marks. His jeans were
worn and slashed at the knee, boots scuffed and unlaced.

He looked confused.

Cleric Tu paced in front of the
Disciples. “The best lessons are those learnt in action. There is
only so much the Sect can teach from behind a desk.” He pointed to
a clear box behind him. “This is the cage.”

It stood twenty feet tall, and thirty
wide on the wooden platform we stood on. There was a small panel
with buttons fixed to one side, wires trailing down into the floor.
I squinted; I could see a faint outline of a door. A door powered
by electricity, why? And well, that was it. It was just a box of
glass. Okay….


Here you will learn what
you must face Outside. Once a month on Demon Day you will face our
greatest enemy. You will learn exactly how terrifying it can be to
fight these creatures.” He spun and jerked his chin toward the
shifter twins. “We’ll use one of them first.”

The crooked nosed Cleric dragged
Amelia by her chain. He punched a code into the keypad and the
glass door slide smoothly slid up. I knew in the past humans had
made wondrous mechanical things, and I had to admit, I was
grudgingly fascinated. The Cleric pushed a hesitant Amelia into the
glass box, and made quick work of shackling her in the centre. She
shot worried looks around her, not quite sure what was going on.
The Cleric left the box but the door remained open.


Change demon,” Cleric Tu
barked.

Amelia bared her teeth, launched
herself at him only to come to the end of her chain and bounce
back. She strained forward, and I could see the frisson of fear and
panic in her actions. Sighing, the crooked nosed Cleric unhooked
his baton from his belt, and her knees knocked together.

Cleric Tu motioned to her his hand.
“Change,” he repeated.

I wanted to yell at her to do what
they said, but I saw the resolution in her eyes, watched as her jaw
set in determination. She stepped back and crossed her arms, daring
him to make her.

Nimah was going ballistic beside me,
but the silver stopped her from getting far or doing more than
growling and cussing. The Cleric jabbed Amelia in the back and she
jolted. The second blow stunned the back of her legs and she
stumbled, but held her ground. The Cleric glanced back at Tu who
nodded his head solemnly. The Cleric set to work, jabbing her in
the back, thighs, and arms. Amelia tried to out maneuver him. She
pummeled her fists on the wall, shrieking. She raced around the
box, looking for an out as he chased after her.

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