Demon Games [4] (29 page)

‘You can’t fight that creature,’ Alexa said in a small voice. Trey turned to see that she was staring down at the scene in horror, tears running down her cheeks. ‘I won’t let you go down there and fight that creature for me.’

Without turning to look at either of them, Molok let out a long sigh. ‘Then you will both be killed,’ was the demon lord’s response.

Hag sat by the dying fire. It was the only illumination in the hut, so long, sinister shadows slowly snaked about the place. She was wrestling with her conscience, something that she had not done in a very long time.

‘What do I care?’ she said to herself. ‘I am not indebted to him. And one less sorceress can only be a good thing, particularly one as knowledgeable at such a young age as she is.’

She stared into the smouldering embers of the fire, lost in thought.

Hag had studied for decades to acquire the knowledge she now had, and until the resurrection of Helde she had considered herself to be the most powerful sorceress in the Netherworld. Like all those well versed in sorcery and dark magic, she was jealous of her secrets, never sharing them. And, also typically of her kind, she hated the idea that there were others that might be acquiring similar knowledge, maybe even learning secrets that she herself had not yet uncovered. If they died, or were killed, it was all to her good. At one time, when she’d been younger, she had not been averse to actively seeking out her opponents, as she thought of them, and removing them.

Now there was a girl, a young girl – as she had once been, a very long time ago – in danger.

‘What do I care?’ she said again, this time in a voice so loud that the mandragore came shuffling out of the shadows, thinking that there might be some threat to his mistress.

‘Oh, get back in your corner!’ she ordered the creature, and it disappeared again.

She sighed. ‘You’re going soft, old woman,’ she told herself. ‘Soft and stupid.’

Hag got up out of her chair, her mind made up. She could no longer keep secret Alexa’s capture by the demon lord, despite having done so for so long now. She would have to summon Lucien and let him know. And she would have to suffer the consequences of having kept it from the vampire until now.

Initially the demon lord denied Trey’s request to speak with Alexa before the final.

Shortly after the message, and the refusal, had been delivered there was a knock at the door. Trey looked up to see Molok through the gap between the busted door and the frame, no doubt come down to gloat at the boy now that he’d denied his wish.

Trey pulled the door aside and stood in the doorway.

‘May I come in?’ Molok said.

‘What for?’

The demon lord did not reply, but stood waiting, an eyebrow raised in expectation.

Trey blew out his cheeks and moved to his left, clearing the way for the demon to enter.

Once inside, the Hell-Kraken turned to face him. ‘I may have been a little rash in my refusal to allow you and your . . . female friend to speak with each other. I think I am willing to reconsider.’

It was Trey’s turn to wait in silence.

‘Your attempts to embarrass me at my own Games have clouded my judgement a little. You really are a very irksome individual, Mr Laporte. Very irksome indeed.’

‘I do my best.’

‘Indeed.’ The Hell-Kraken steepled his fingers before his face, peering at Trey over the claws that tipped the hands. ‘As I say, I might be willing to grant your request, if
you
are willing to make a few concessions of your own.’

‘And what might they be?’ Trey said, folding his arms and narrowing his eyes in the creature’s direction.

‘Distrustful too. Irksome and distrustful. Throw bloody-minded into the mix, and you have a powerful cocktail of character faults that is enough to try even the likes of me.’

‘What concessions?’

‘I have already expressed to you my annoyance at your refusal to wear the armour that I provided. You owe me a show of fealty. I ask for a small gesture. A small concession from you, for which I am willing to give you something you want in return.

‘I want you to ride into the stadium draped in a flag bearing the colours and symbol of my fighting school. The chariot will be likewise decorated.’

Trey frowned. ‘That’s it?’

‘Almost. I want you to bow. Before the fight begins, I want you to turn to me and bow. If you do these small and simple things, I will let you speak with the Charron girl.’

Trey could think of no reason not to comply if it meant he could see Alexa. He nodded. ‘OK.’

‘And you must both
speak
throughout. No thought-transfer from you, Mr Laporte.’

‘The handcuffs,’ Trey said. ‘Would it be possible to—’

‘The manacles stay on at all times and the chain will be in the safe keeping of the guard.’ The demon lord smiled.

Trey bit his lip, resisting the urge to speak his mind.

‘Why is it so important to you? Why do you need the crowd to know that I am under your command?’

Molok looked at him as if he could hardly understand the question. Then he turned his back on the boy to leave the room, addressing Trey over his shoulder as he went. ‘I will send the guard down with the girl. Another guard will be stationed outside the door with an archer, just in case you should get any silly ideas into your head. I look forward to seeing you in the final, Trey Laporte. Fight well.’ And with that, the demon lord left.

The teenager sat down on his bench. Shentob came back in, having waited just outside the door while the Hell-Kraken and Trey were talking.

‘Molok agreed?’

‘Yes, but under conditions.’ Trey shrugged. ‘Nothing big, just muscle-flexing by a megalomaniac monster.’

‘That is good.’ Shentob nodded. ‘We should start to get your armour on.’

‘I don’t want to put it on yet,’ the teenager said without raising his head.

‘Not all of it. Just the bits that we can get on before you need to transform.’

‘I said not yet!’

There was a moment of silence. Shentob nodded and came to sit beside his charge.

‘It will be good for you to talk to her.’

‘At least I’ll get a chance to say some of the things I want to before . . . ’ Trey puffed out his cheeks and turned his head away. ‘I doubt I’ll get another chance.’

Shentob stared at the teenager. ‘Trey Laporte is losing the fight before he has stepped out on to the sand. In his mind he has already lost to Abaddon. In his mind he is imagining his own death.’ The little demon nodded to himself. ‘Old Shentob has seen it many times – yes, he has.’

‘How can I fight that thing? How? You saw him out there! You saw what he did!’

Shentob jumped down from the bench, a loud hiss coming from his lips, making the teenager look up. ‘Stop it!’ the old demon said menacingly. Shentob pointed at the youngster, and when he spoke he addressed Trey directly for the first time. ‘You must stop it! You must remember who and what you are. You must remember that you are a son of Theiss – a mighty lycanthrope warrior. You must remember the armour you wear and who wore it before you! You must stop mooning about like some sulking little child and start to think like the son of Daniel Laporte. Start to think like a Demon Games champion!’ The little demon’s eyes blazed. ‘Do not think of death. If you do, it will surely come. Think of victory. Think of freeing yourself and that pretty human girl you like so much.’

Shentob was standing up at his full height, his jaw jutting, eyes staring defiantly at the teenager. ‘You can win, Trey Laporte. You can.’

Trey nodded at his friend. ‘Thank you, Shentob.’

Shentob returned the gesture.

There was a small cough at the door and Trey looked up to see Alexa standing there.

‘Old Shentob must go and check on some things before the fight.’ He turned and bowed to Alexa before shuffling out of the room.

‘Where did you find him?’ Alexa said, coming into the room.

Trey shrugged. ‘He found me.’

He pointed at the bench, and they sat down together, the guard standing before them with the length of chain in its hand. There was an awkward silence.

I’ don’t want you to fight,’ Alexa said eventually, looking at the wall across from her.

Trey forced a smile on to his face. ‘Trust me – it’s not on my list of top-ten things to do before I’m sixteen.’

‘Molok doesn’t care if you win or lose.’

I’ know.’

‘Oh.’

‘I’m not supposed to win. If I lose, Molok buys himself Caliban’s gratitude by getting rid of the creature that the vampire considers to be his nemesis, namely me. I’m betting Molok thinks that Caliban will let him keep his fiefdom as reward.’

‘If only my father—’

‘Lucien would have been here if he could. You know that. I think he must have some pretty serious problems of his own right now to have disappeared like that. As much as I’d like to believe that he might turn up and get us out of this hole, I think we’re on our own.’

Alexa nodded, and the silence surrounded them again. ‘That creature – Abaddon – he’s . . . I’ve never seen anything like it before.’

What Trey attempted to do next was so difficult he doubted he’d be able to pull it off: he spoke to Alexa about one thing, while thinking a completely different thought and transferring it to her directly.

‘He’s scary all right. He brushed aside that demon in the semi-final bout. It was some performance. Awesome. I don’t know that there is any creature capable of stopping . . .’he rambled on. He was talking rubbish, but keeping up the monologue was more important than the words he was using. He hoped the guard wouldn’t notice how flat and expressionless his voice was.

‘
Abaddon isn’t invincible. Shentob thinks there’s a way to defeat him. Just don’t do anything stupid, Lex. And whatever you do, don’t use magic if things go bad for me.’

‘. . . so I’ll just have to give it my best shot, and hope he makes a mistake.’ Trey looked at her intently.’Does that make sense?’ he said. ‘Did you get that?’

Alexa was staring at him in amazement. ‘Yes. I got that.’ She nodded. ‘That’s difficult,’ she said pointedly.

Trey couldn’t help but smile. She was right: talking, performing the spell, and formulating different words in his mind to those that he’d been speaking was very difficult.

Alexa’s expression turned from one of admiration to one of concern. ‘I’m scared.’

‘Me too.’ He took her hand in his, ignoring the sharp look that the guard gave him when the chain rattled. ‘That thing you said, or mouthed rather, in the doorway earlier . . . ’ He stared at her and she raised her eyes to meet his. ‘I feel the same way – about you, I mean.’

‘I know.’

‘I have since the first time I met you, when your dad brought me back to the apartment.’

She smiled. ‘I know.’

‘You know an awful lot,’ he said with a grin.

‘I know.’

They laughed, the sound strange in the environment they found themselves in.

‘Time’s up,’ the guard said, pulling on the chain so that Alexa’s hand was yanked out of Trey’s.

Trey was about to say something, but Alexa stopped him. ‘It’s OK,’ she said, getting to her feet. ‘Don’t let yourself get upset again, Trey.’ She shot the demon guard a withering look. ‘They’re not worth it. You just concentrate on doing what you have to do to survive this fight.’

The guard started for the door, but Alexa stayed put, resisting the pull of the chain for a moment. ‘Shentob’s right. Those things he was saying to you just as I arrived. You must believe in yourself. Believe in yourself the way that I believe in you.’

Trey was about to reply, when she was dragged out of the room.

The ‘flag’ that he had to wrap around himself was in fact a great length of the purple silk material that would trail behind him as he entered the arena on a chariot painted the same colour. Trey stood in the back of the vehicle, staring ahead of him at the tunnel exit, his heart seemingly intent on pounding a hole through his chest in a bid to escape to the outside world. He was minutes away from the fight, and it was as much as he could do to stop himself leaping down from the chariot and running as fast as his legs could carry him in the opposite direction. A shiver snaked its way down the werewolf’s spine. It was cold and damp in the tunnel; small water droplets dripped from the arched ceiling, falling on Trey, gathering as tiny glass pearls on the tips of his thick fur. Various nether-creatures – officials and organizers – hurried to and fro, making certain that everything was in place for the main event. Shentob stuck by his charge’s side, a hand on Trey’s arm. The little demon didn’t speak; there was nothing left to say.

The pre-fight entertainment had involved an aerial battle fought between troupes of winged demons from two of the fighting schools. Trey had briefly seen some of the contestants as they swooped past the opening ahead of him: great leathery-winged creatures wearing deadly-looking spurs on their legs. He could hear the crowd ooh and ah as one or other of the combatants came to grief, and at one point he’d looked up at the sound of an enormous thud and seen that one of the blood-covered creatures had crashed to earth just outside the tunnel entrance.

As soon as the aerial display was over, and the arena floor had been cleared and swept, a fanfare announced the imminent start of the final fight.

Trey was to enter second; Abaddon would be there waiting for him. Shentob had earlier told Trey that this would be the case. The teenager had asked him why, pointing out that whenever he’d watched boxing or wrestling on TV in the human realm, the champion was always the last to enter.

‘Intimidation,’ Shentob said. ‘He knows that his size and presence are enough to scare most of his opponents witless, and the nearer you get to him, the bigger he looks. He likes to watch his opponents’ faces as they approach. He also likes to bask in the adoration of the crowd for as long as possible.’

Another fanfare was sounded in the stand somewhere above Trey’s head, and the creatures pulling his chariot began the short journey out to the fighting square. Shentob ran alongside for a few steps, pointing up at Trey and giving him last-minute tips and advice. ‘Remember everything that old Shentob has told you,’ the little demon shouted, just as the chariot slipped out of the shadows into the bright light of the stadium. ‘Remember. It’s the only way to defeat him.’