Prospero Lost: Prospero's Daughter, Book I (25 page)

“Wha-what happened?” He rubbed his bare arms, chafing them against the cold autumn wind.

“Get in the car!” Mab pushed him bodily toward the backseat and dove in after him. “We’ve got to get out of here. Not only are the police coming, but also the barghests will soon be after us. Once they have tasted our blood, they can track us anywhere. Our only hope is to outrun them until we can get the components we need to banish them, or at the very least establish a ward. What are you waiting for?” This last was directed at me. I sat motionless in the front seat, waiting for guidance.

The parking lot had two exits. The one we had entered by led to the main road, down which I could see the police cars approaching. Their sharp blue lights, painful to the eyes, cut though the darkness. Our car would not be visible to them yet. As soon as their headlamps fell on the parking lot, however,
they would see us. My only hope was to reach the other exit and get my car behind a copse of trees growing along the country lane there.

The night was black as pitch, and I recalled a Dumpster sat somewhere between us and the far exit. If I turned my headlights on now, the police would surely see us. If I drove in the dark, I might hit the Dumpster.

Of course, that was what starlight scopes were for.

With the starlight scope to my eyes, I drove slowly forward across the parking lot, avoiding the Dumpster. The parking lot rose slightly and met the country lane beyond. I had just rounded the bend and slid behind the trees when the piercing blue lights of the patrol cars entered the parking lot. I kept driving, slowly at first. Then, once there was the rise of a hill between us and the warehouse, I put my foot on the accelerator and shot forward as quickly as the range of the starlight scope would allow.

When we passed the third stop sign, I slowed down and turned on my lights. Mab, who was peering out the back window, swore softly. Mephisto leaned forward between the two front seats, nearly jarring my elbow as he did so.

“Yippie! We escaped the police! Why were they chasing us? Did we get my staff?”

“No, Mephisto, and they were chasing us because we broke into a warehouse. I can’t believe I let you talk me into this. Can you imagine what would have happened if I got arrested? The C.E.O. of Prospero, Inc., a multinational corporation, nabbed breaking into a warehouse like a common crook? I think I’m getting too old for this sort of thing. Mab, what is going on back there?”

“I can see ’em, Ma’am, the barghests. They’re after us, and they’re running pretty darn fast.”

“Oh, no!” I cried, adding more rapidly, “Holy Lady, be my shepherd. Guide me to a safe fold.”

Like a bright beacon in the darkness, a warm certainty urged me forward, directing me where and when to turn. Obediently, I drove and turned as I was bid. We passed down narrow country roads. To either side,
tree trunks gleamed, half-illuminated by our headlights. Mab watched the road behind me, cursing and swearing as the barghests gained.

“If they reach the car, they’ll probably be able to get in, and we’ll have to fight them. I doubt this vehicle has been properly warded,” Mab said. “That’s not my biggest worry, though. It’s what happens if they reach the motor that really frightens me. Natural laws and the supernatural don’t mix well. The engine will probably cut out.”

“Well, do something! I don’t want those ugly dogs slobbering all over me! Hey, Miranda, where’d all that blood on your face come from?” Mephisto said.

“Those slobbering dogs.” I spoke the words automatically, my thoughts on our path and the road.

“Why don’t you do something?” Mab snapped from the backseat. “You scared them away quickly enough in your fiend form. How’d you do that anyway?”

“Do what? What’s he talking about, Miranda?” Mephisto called.

I glanced in the rearview mirror. Mephisto sat hunched in the backseat, his face contorted by confusion, as if he struggled to remember something unpleasant.

“I don’t think he remembers, Mab,” I said softly.

As we continued barreling through the night, I fought a growing sense of dread. Mephisto’s strange transformation disturbed me. I had been certain, considering the terrible things my family had witnessed, that none of us would ever traffic with demons. It was quite a blow to learn that one of us might
be
a demon! Still, I held onto the lingering hope that Mephisto might have some reasonable explanation. Perhaps, if we questioned him later, under less stressful circumstances, he would be more forthcoming.

On the other hand, maybe there was no more palatable explanation. I remembered my moment of sympathy with Mephisto in Vermont, when I wondered how sane Mephisto might feel about the crazy one. If I lost my reason or, worse, my rank of Handmaiden, I would be desperate to regain it, though not desperate enough, I hoped, to give in to the lure of forging a deal with Hell. What of my brother? Might he have given in to such a temptation and made a pact with dire powers in hopes of regaining his sanity, even if only temporarily?

We were driving through the outskirts of town. Once, then twice, the car pulled suddenly as, according to Mab, the barghests seized the bumper
in their teeth. Soon, we found ourselves on a busy street, passing diners and neon signs. Mab cried out, pointing at a passing pool hall.

“Stop there! Pool halls always have chalk for their cues. We could step on the stuff to grind it down. I bet it would work. Stop! Do you hear?”

“No.”

“No? Has your brain left your noggin? Stop!” Mab cried.

The car jerked again as another barghest gained our bumper. Mephisto shrieked. His voice shrill, he cried, “Miranda! Listen to him. These barghests are about to eat us. I don’t wanna be puppy chow!”

I glanced at the neon sign hanging sideways along the pool hall. Mab was right, such a place would have chalk. Chalk alone, especially of the poor quality we’d find here, would not allow us to banish the hounds. However, the pool hall sign indicated they sold food, so they probably had salt too. A circle of salt and chalk would keep the barghests out. If we could stay put until morning, the sunlight would force them away until the next evening. By then, we certainly could find what we needed.

I considered stopping. There was not only myself, but Mab and Mephisto to consider. Yet, the beacon of my Lady’s light led onward. I pushed aside the gnawing fear in my stomach and shook my head again.

“No. That is not where Eurynome wants us to go.”

“Has anyone told Her about the barghests?” Mab asked.

I kept driving. Mab stared morosely out the back window at the receding pool hall. Mephisto sat shivering, with his arms around his knees.

“Ah, Miranda, something happened to these clothes you gave me. Do you have any more?” he asked plaintively.

The car gave a thump. Blood-red wolf-like eyes peered in the back window. Pale fangs gnawed at the glass, slobbering at it with a faint black tongue. Mab swore, and Mephisto screamed. As I rounded the corner, following where my path was leading me, Mephisto perked up.

“Oh, goody, a mall!”

Sure enough, we were in the middle of a massive parking lot. A bright sign of blue and pink read “Landover Mall.” Led by my Lady, I parked under a street lamp. When the barghests drew back, confused by the light, we made a break for it, leaping from the car and running for the mall’s entrance.

“A mall? Oh, this is great, Ma’am! Just excellent,” Mab yelled sarcastically as he sprinted for the door. “What does that horse-brained Lady of yours expect us to find here?”

“Her brain is made of lightning, Mab. Same as yours, or at least mine.” I reached the double doors and plowed through both the outer and inner set. Then I slowed. Panting, I said, “Perhaps, she knows something about malls we don’t. Perhaps they’re warded. They are the churches of the modern capitalistic creed, are they not?”

As I spoke, the first barghest passed through the glass and lunged at me. We turned and ran again.

“Warded church of the capitalistic creed, my foot!” Mab panted as he ran. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you that the first creed of blessed capitalism is: sell to all comers? That means me and the barghests too.”

We raced pell-mell along the lower floor of the mall, passing staircases and kiosks, startling shoppers. The hallway led into a large open area. Above could be seen the stores of the upper level. There were three ways we could go. I glanced rapidly in all three directions. As I turned toward the leftmost corridor, a warmth touched my face, like the sweet breath of spring air. Instantly, I ran in that direction, calling for Mab and Mephisto to follow me.

The mall was decorated for Christmas. Bells and wreaths hung in store windows and along the railing of the upper level. Far ahead of us, a Christmas display had been set up, complete with fir trees, stuffed elves, and a Santa Claus to listen to the wishes of children. Many of the shoppers wore their winter coats. Some carried parcels wrapped in red and green paper.

Children screamed. Some pointed down the hallway, back the way we had come. Others cowered behind their parents’ legs. The adults stared blindly toward where they were pointing, seeing nothing amiss, other than three adults running. Several mothers lectured their frightened children, ordering them to be silent, apparently embarrassed by the attention their children’s wailing drew.

As we ran on, Mab called, “Where are we headed, Ma’am? Maybe we could find a mountaineering store. That chalk rockclimbers use works pretty well. Or maybe the food court? Or a place that sells drawing materials? Isn’t that an art store over there?”

I glanced in the direction Mab was pointing. My face felt instantly colder. I continued onward, following my Lady’s beacon.

“No. This way!” I replied with certainty.

Mab scowled. He gave the art store a last longing glance. Suddenly, an unarticulated cry of horror escaped his lips. “Ma’am! The barghests! They’re feeding on the crowd!”

The smoky hounds, unseen by the crowd, were leaping upon and rending
the shoppers. I saw a barghest bite the leg of a thin woman in a burgundy coat. The woman sagged suddenly, her face becoming tired and pained. She grabbed her leg, massaging her calf, where— to my eyes— the barghest lapped up her blood. Another man had a barghest gnawing at his throat. Eyes dazed, he looked for a place to sit. A small child had fallen to the ground. Two smoky hounds licked blood from his bleeding cheek. His angry overweight mother, oblivious to the barghest, dragged him back to his feet and slapped him for crying.

The sight was terrible; I felt sick to my stomach.

“You should have stopped at the pool hall, Ma’am,” Mab said between gritted teeth. “At least, there wouldn’t have been any kids there.”

“Oh, Mab!” I cried out, shaken.

The lead barghests were nearly upon us. As we ran again, I prayed aloud. “Holy Lady, take not from others the safety and sanctuary that I have asked be granted unto us.” The warmth of Her beacon did not waver. I ran, following it. Behind us, the barghests bayed.

Then they were among us, barking and yapping and howling. Fear gripped me. Whatever sanctuary my Lady envisioned for us, we would not reach it before the barghests devoured the lot of us. Just a few days ago, I might not have cared about the welfare of the shoppers, but I thought again of my aging brother with his wrinkled and careworn face. He did not look so different from the old man by the stairs, or the man near the ice cream store who was trying to comfort his frightened wife. All of these people wanted to live at least as much as I did. How terrible if we were to perish now and leave the innocent shoppers prey to the denizens of Hell.

Maybe Mab had been right. Perhaps I should have stopped at the pool hall and not trusted my Lady to take human needs into account. That thought took me aback. Did my Lady usually take the needs of those around me into account? I could not remember. I realized with growing chagrin that I had never noticed.

A sharp stinging pain shot through my ankle. A great shadowy beast clung to my leg. I cried out, kicking it and slashing at the beast with the polished shaft of my flute. My leg came free. Desperately, I threw all I had into one last sprint, running directly toward the warmth that guided me.

Suddenly, there was a small, white picket fence directly in my way. It was only a foot and a half tall, but I did not have time to react. My leg struck it. I fell sprawling, arms flailing before me.