Dire Destiny of Ours (33 page)

"I didn't realize demons could change their names."

"Even those in the infernal plane can change a name if given thousands of years to do so." She pressed the palms of her hands together and nodded. "You have answered. I shall return the favor if I can."

I decided not to beat around the bush. "Are you familiar with the Relics of Juranthemon?"

Melea's eyes lost focus as if gazing into the past. "I am familiar with the name Juranthemon, but cannot attach significance to it."

"What about a map which can connect two doors anywhere in the world and a key which can open the connection between those doors?"

She thought for a moment. "I am familiar with your language's meaning of key and map."

Her answer confused me at first, but my recent adventure in Seraphina clarified her meaning. Even though many words in Cyrinthian were easily translatable to English, there had been times when the translation spell had chosen words that made no contextual sense. Simply put, there were some things that existed in Eden that didn't exist in Seraphina and vice versa. Arcphones were a good example, although the gems the Seraphim wore operated in a similar manner.

Remembering what Underborn had told me about the key and the map, I knew there might be a better way to describe them. "The key is an analogue based on perception. If I think it's a normal metal key, then it appears as such. In its most basic form, it is simply an object that unlocks or gives access to something closed."

"Ah, as in an opener." She pursed her lips as though she'd just solved a great mystery.

"Uh, yeah, an opener." I'd expected a much cooler name than that.

Melea continued with another brilliant revelation. "The map is a locater."

Elyssa quirked an eyebrow. "And you would be considered a knower of stuff."

The siren didn't seem to realize Elyssa was being snarky. "I am a knower, among other things."

Despite the lack of cool names, I pressed on with my line of questioning. "What do you know about the opener and the locater?"

"They were once used to chart the realms and facilitate easy travel." She tapped a slender finger against her arm. "Only the explorers were allowed such powerful tools, lest someone without proper knowledge create a rift to the Void."

Jeremiah had told me about the Void and a supposed Beast which lived there. He'd considered unleashing the creature on Seraphina as revenge for the loss of his wife. "How much more can you tell me about these relics?"

"That is all I remember." She stopped tapping her finger and traced it down her arm. "Should I recall anything further, I will tell you. For now, I must find a way to send the Abyssal back where it belongs."

I stopped her as she turned to leave. "Wait, one more question."

She regarded me patiently.

"Can the Chalon do anything besides attune the Grand Nexus?" I couldn't think of a better way to word it. "Does it have any other abilities?"

Her eyes once again lost focus for several seconds. "No. The Chalon, as you call it, aligns the resonance of one realm's magical energy with that of another. The aether separates the realms and makes them distinct." Her next statement was almost a murmur. "It was not always so."

I looked at Elyssa. "Looks like trading a Chalon for the map and key are our best bet."

Melea's gaze focused on me with razor-sharp intensity. "You possess a Chalon?"

"We have two of them." I instantly regretted my decision to open my mouth.

"Perhaps if you allow me to study them, I will discover something useful." The pitch in her voice altered ever so slightly.

I got the distinct feeling she was lying. "Why do you want them?" I stepped closer and narrowed my eyes. "What aren't you telling me?"

She didn't seem fazed by my aggressive posture. "I was simply offering my help." The song in her voice once again sounded enigmatic, but innocent. "I must go plan my next moves against the Abyssal. May the song guide you, Justin Slade and Elyssa Borathen." She turned and seemed to glide rather than walk out of the front door.

Elyssa gave me a troubled look. "I don't trust her one bit."

My stomach knotted. "There's a lot more going on with her than she's letting on."

If the fate of the world hadn't been in the balance, I would've gone ninja stealth and followed Melea. Unfortunately, we didn't have the time.

We had to visit the most dangerous assassin in the world.

Elyssa and I stood outside the doors to the Grotto, a place I hadn't visited for some time. The way station looked virtually empty. The stables to the right of the Obsidian Arch, usually full of animals from all over the world and the steaming piles of dung to prove it, remained silent, aside from a small black goat bleating maniacally and running circles around a pile of hay. A smattering of travelers, most of them Templars or Arcanes, judging from their appearances, populated the vast space. It was as if the population of the Overworld was in hiding until the dust settled.

Even though Underborn didn't live in the Grotto, this was the only place I might have a chance of contacting him. Elyssa and I had discussed how best to talk to the man and approach what we needed. Trying to outthink him was beyond me, but we weren't entirely defenseless. If he agreed to see us, it meant he wanted something. If he wanted something, I had to negotiate the best price for it. Now I just had to hope we could find him.

Jeremiah had possessed a gold ASE with a direct line to Underborn, but that device had been lost when Daelissa killed the ancient Arcane. That left me with no choice but to rely on a method of contact I'd used once when Underborn marked my father for death.

The entire event had been a ruse by the assassin to test my mettle and see what I was made of. My appearance on the Overworld scene had been prophesied by Foreseeance Forty-Three Eleven, but Underborn liked to know everything about everyone.

I opened an email sent months ago from one Buzz Masterson. The account was fake, created by Adam Nosti during his more reclusive days before he'd become a part of the gang and started dating Meghan Andretti. Back then, he'd gone by the alias of Smith. It seemed like all of that had been so long ago, but it hadn't been much more than a year since I'd been a mega nerd at Edenfield High School.

The email read:

1. Go to The Laughing Dog in the Grotto.
   

    
   

2. Purchase a Mr. Nutter's Angel Biscuit.
   

    
   

3. Go to Grotto Park.
   

    
   

4. Sit on the northeast bench facing Orange and MagicSoft.
   

    
   

5. Wait. Wait some more. Keep waiting.
   

    
   

P.S. You can eat the Angel Biscuit if you get hungry.

Elyssa chuckled glanced at the email. "Wow, talk about a flashback."

"Except this time we shouldn't have an army of gray men waiting to ambush us." I took Elyssa's hand and led her toward the double doors guarding the entrance into the pocket dimension where the Grotto existed.

"G'day, guvnah!" said a peppy British voice.

Elyssa and I spun to see Oliver, the pooper-scooper boy walking toward us from the stables.

I smiled at the kid. "I guess job security isn't what it used to be, is it?"

"No animals, no dung." He shrugged. "Not a lot I can do about it." He pointed at a donkey who was watching the crazed goat. "At least Rachel enjoys the time off."

"Cute." Elyssa gave him a curious look. "Were you here when Daelissa controlled the Grotto?"

"Of course." Oliver motioned at the cavernous place. "Plenty of places to hide around this place. I even came out and did my work, but nobody notices or cares about the stable boy." He gave me a pointed look. "By the way, Underborn said you can skip buying the Angel Biscuit this time, unless you're hungry."

I almost choked on my own tongue. "Say what?"

Oliver smiled apologetically. "He's a right bastard if you ask me. Always knowing what everyone is up to and all that."

Elyssa looked at Oliver suspiciously. "How in the hell did he know we were coming to visit him?"

"If I knew that I wouldn't be the stable boy."

A sudden truth dawned on me as I regarded the young lad. He hadn't aged a day since I'd first met him, even though he was definitely of the age where growth spurts weren't uncommon. Even Shelton had been using Oliver as an informant for quite some time and couldn't explain why the kid didn't age normally. "Number one," I said, "you're not just a stable boy." A smile stretched my lips. "Number two, you're in a perfect position to snoop and eavesdrop on people."

"Are you about to say he's Underborn?" Elyssa said.

I shook my head. "Heavens no. Oliver works for the man. If anything, I think he's somehow related to Phissilinth."

Elyssa tilted her head. "The teeny tiny man assassin?"

"Or whatever he is."

Oliver grinned. "You're more of a doer than a thinker, Justin Slade, but you eventually figure things out."

I shot him a sarcastic smile. "Whatever, smartass. What do I need to do to see Underborn?" I looked at the prancing goat. "Do I need to scratch the goat behind the ears and then walk on my hands while reciting
Mary Had a Little Lamb
?"

Oliver pursed his lips. "That would be quite amusing, and I'm awfully tempted to say yes." He ran a hand through his thick mop of hair. "Unfortunately, it would just waste your time." He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the stables. "Underborn is in there."

"Let me guess. We showed up here. You eavesdropped on me talking about visiting Underborn." I folded my arms and tried to look smug. "Then you called him, he used the Key of Juranthemon to get here super fast, and then you got my attention."

"Someone is on top of their game today." Oliver motioned us to follow him. "You must be taking plenty of fish oil supplements, Mr. Slade."

I resisted the urge to pop him on the back of the head. "Yeah, yeah. I'm really appreciative to see how much trouble Underborn went through to make himself look omniscient all for little old me."

Elyssa squeezed my hand. "I always knew you were special, honey."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, special in the head."

A very small man whose height barely reached Elyssa's waist stepped from within the stable and regarded us with a pleasant smile. He wore a dark green suit with a red bowtie and matching bowler. Auburn sideburns hinted at the color of hair beneath the hat. "It is a pleasure to see you again, Ms. Borathen and Mr. Slade." Phissilinth's baritone voice didn't fit with his small stature, though it definitely fit with the confident way he carried himself.

Oliver gave a curt bow to the short man and went inside.

"Hello, Phissilinth." Though I'd seen him on a couple of different occasions, I hadn't exactly been thinking clearly. Then again, when did I ever think clearly? The small man's appearance reminded me distinctly of a mythical little creature who didn't want children eating his marshmallow cereal. "Are you a leprechaun?"

Phissilinth gave me a haughty look. "If you'll notice, sir, my accent is markedly British and not Irish."

Elyssa laughed. "Justin, there's no such thing as leprechauns."

"How am I supposed to know that?" I threw up my hands. "I mean, there are vampires, werewolves, werecats, and demons. Why not leprechauns?"

Phissilinth gave me a dour look, turned, and entered the stable. "Bloody leprechaun, indeed."

Despite the promise of Underborn, the stable was empty. I knew better than to open my mouth and ask where he was. The assassin might have heard me divining his sneaky ways and decided to leave just to spite me. Phissilinth produced a small skeleton key. Even though it looked like a key, I knew it was the opener, as Melea had so eloquently named it.

The small man walked toward a closed door that had no lock, only a sliding plank, which held it closed. The key seemed to melt into the wood. He twisted the key and pulled open the door. A carpeted hallway lined with paintings and candlelit sconces waited beyond.