The Devil's Backbone (A Niki Slobodian Novel: Book Five) (14 page)

BOOK: The Devil's Backbone (A Niki Slobodian Novel: Book Five)
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“He’s a boy,” I said, eying the jagged, twisted blade in her hand. “You killed his mother.” I tried to step forward, but I couldn’t move my feet. There was a golden sheen to the ground inside the circle of women. “What is this? What do you want from me?”

“You hold a power inside you,” said Leda. “It’s ours. Or it will be.”

“The Creator’s power?” I said. “Take it. I don’t want it. I never wanted it.”

“No, not that,” said Leda. “Something else.”

“There is nothing else,” I said. “You mean the power of Death? Because it’s really not all that fun.”

Leda tilted her head. “You don’t even know yet, do you?” She clucked her tongue. “No matter. He wants you, and he shall have you.”

“I don’t know what?” I said. I searched my mind for a way out, for some idea of what to do here. But I was just as helpless as when I’d tried to face the Yuki-onna on my own. Again I was frozen, again I was defeated. No matter how hard I tried, no matter how much I lost, I always ended up in the same place. It was like the dream where you’re running, panicked, but you never get anywhere, you never get away from what’s following you and then it’s breathing down your neck. I felt a surge of strength as my anger grew. I lifted my heel from the glowing ground. I might not be able to control the power of the Creator, but I sure as hell knew how to control the power that ran in my veins. Whether it came from my Watcher father, or Sam the Archangel who had given me part of his soul, or my very own Death power; it didn’t matter. I had something to work with. I was never helpless; not completely.

I could hear Matthew cursing behind Leda, trying to open up a hole when all his energy had already been sapped. I knew why the Creator couldn’t kill him. Why I couldn’t kill him. If I killed Matthew, I was killing every person who had ever suffered, every innocent child who had feared the next blow coming from a parent, every wife who covered up black eyes and split lips with makeup. I wouldn’t kill Matthew.
 

I was going to save him.

“Why are we still standing here, boy?” Leda called. “Open it.”

“He needs rest,” I said, trying my other heel. It was still firmly stuck.

“He needs discipline,” she said.

“You never answered me,” I said, stalling. “What is it that I don’t know?”

“It is fairly self-evident,” she said. “You shall figure it out. In time. Not much time, but you will know.”

“Everyone keeps saying that,” I said. I wiggled my other heel. Leda didn’t seem to notice. “It’s getting damn obnoxious. I think maybe if one more person were to say that, I might have to do something terrible.”

“What can you do?” Leda said mockingly. “We have you, Reaper. You’re his now.”

I frowned. “I’m whose?” Lucifer stopped growling and seemed to listen.

“Did you not wonder why there are so few of us?”

I looked around the circle. I counted six witches, including Leda.

“There should be twelve,” she said. “But my sisters stayed behind at the Backbone for something special.”

“What?” I said. “What are you doing?”

“Did you know that the fabric of this world is quite thin there?” she said. “It is the only point in the Trifecta where all the worlds collide.”

“Trifecta?” I said.

“The Three,” she said. “Briah, Erebos, and the human world. But there are others. And they all come together at the Devil’s Backbone. Can you imagine the possibilities?”

“You’re releasing someone,” I said. “Who is he?”

Leda laughed. “Oh, dear girl. Not just one someone. All of them. Every god from every world will have the opportunity to walk out of their prison, and be free. Of course, there are unpleasant creatures that must be released as well. The Yuki-onna was an accident that Matthew had when we killed his mother. The poor lamb was so upset.”

“Matthew, I talked to her,” I called.

“Be quiet,” Leda said. But Matthew stopped trying to muster his power and looked at me.
 

“She told me to save you,” I said. “She begged me. She’d been murdered and all she cared about was you.”

“She was like that,” I heard him say, low but audible.

“Matthew,” I said. “I’m going to help you.”

Leda laughed again. “You can’t help anyone,” she said. “I’m going to give you to him, and he’s going to rip what he wants most out of your belly. Your last words will be screams.”

“So much for sisterly love,” I said. “I thought you didn’t like men being in power.”

“He will reward us,” she said.

“With what?”

“Hell,” she said, eyes gleaming. “It’s ours.”

Matthew was still staring at me.

“What about the World,” I said. “What about the people?”

“Insects,” she said. “It is up to the gods. Fate can be fickle, so I wouldn’t hold much hope for them. Boy! Do as I say. Open the corridor. My sisters grow weary.”
 

I looked at the chanting witches, and I saw what Leda said was true. They had grown ashen, deep circles under their eyes. Their voices were hoarse.

“Good,” said Matthew and he flung something large and heavy at one of the chanting women. She fell, stunned and bleeding next to the big rock that had struck her. Matthew flung himself forward into the circle, where the hold on Lucifer and I had been broken. Lucifer was off the ground in a second and on top of Leda, the sounds of ripping and tearing sickeningly loud in my ears. Matthew flung his arms wide, and the ground shook, the smell of sulfur sharp in my nose.
 

“Get ready,” said Matthew.

“Lucifer!” I called. He raised his head, blood and gore dripping from his great maw. He leaped through the air to land beside me, but never quite made it to the ground because the three of us were falling. Falling into darkness so deep that the very air seemed to suffocate me. I screamed, but I felt a hand clasp my own. Matthew. Then there was a force in the air, an implosion that ripped us apart. I heard the sound of some great beast baying before I landed with a sickening crack, the splash of water, and then the darkness really did take me.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

I woke gasping for air, the stench of swamp in my nose and mouth. I coughed up stagnant green water and rolled onto my side, my hand sinking into slimy mud. I could feel bugs creeping up my legs and back. I sat up quickly and cried out at the pain in my spine. I felt behind me, the fire inside burning and throbbing as I healed. There was an odd lump in my back, like something had broken off inside me. I stood carefully, afraid to make any sudden movement.
 

It was dark, but less like the choking nothingness we had fallen through and more like nighttime. Two moons hung in the sky, nearly full. The air was damp and chilly and I could hear crickets and frogs and other signs of life. A stand of mangroves grew about twenty feet away.

“Lucifer?” I called. “Matthew?” There was no answer. The croaking of frogs stopped for a moment at the sound of my voice, but started again almost immediately. The frogs decided that I posed no threat here. I made my way to the mangrove trees, my boots filled with thick water. It was hard to walk, like something had come disconnected in the fall. I dragged my right foot behind me, splashing loudly. When I got to the tree I took a deep breath, steadied myself, then rammed my back into the trunk. I screamed at the pain, but when it passed, I limped a few steps away, then did it again. The third time, something popped hard into my spine and I immediately felt the white fire doing its job. It hurt worse than the tree, but I already felt better. I sank down the trunk and let myself sit in the water, the energy leeched out of me. I closed my eyes.

When I opened them again, Lucifer was standing over me, hell-hound breath in my face. He whined and splashed a little and I could see he was hurt. There was a shine of blood, black in the moonlight, over his ribcage and I could see a disturbing flash of white, as if one rib was sticking through. One of his back legs was at an odd angle and he limped along on three legs.

“Lucifer,” I said. I felt better, but not strong yet. I reached for him and he let me touch his face. There was still dried blood around his mouth. I put my face in the fur on the side of his neck and put my hand over his heart, feeling the strong beat. Lucifer staggered and nearly fell in the water. Almost unaware I was doing it, I reached out my hand and placed it gently over the exposed rib. The beast growled, the sound turning to a whine. I felt strange, as if I could float if I wanted to. I focused on his wound and suddenly felt the pain in my own ribs. I sucked in air, but didn’t cry out. I blew out air onto my hands and my breath turned white, as though the air was very cold. Lucifer was very still. When the pain passed, I knew I had done it. I lifted my hands to see that the rib bone no longer protruded from his coat and there was no longer a wound. I did the same with his leg. He licked my face, which was weird. The whole thing was weird.

“I don’t know how I did that,” I said. “Must be the Creator’s power. Maybe I’m learning to use it.” Lucifer looked at me. I saw the shine of his black eyes and something hurt inside me. It wasn't the fire or my wounds or the pull of the dead. It was deeper than that. “We should find Matthew,” I said, but I didn’t get up. Instead I leaned my head against him again. I felt hot tears on my face. For once, I didn’t fight them. I let them come and I felt it hard in my chest, like I’d been kicked. I didn’t fight the feelings, any of them. Hopelessness, frustration, grief.

For all the power I had, the power of a god, I couldn’t change him back. If I could, I had no idea how. It was time to accept the fact that Lucifer might be lost to me. A sob exploded out of me, echoing in the dark.
 

“I tried so hard to find you,” I said thickly into his fur. “And when I finally found you, I was sure I could fix this. I could get you back. But I don’t think I can.” I drew in a breath that vibrated into my lungs. “I don’t think anyone can. You did this, Lucifer. You left me and I wasn’t there to help you. Maybe I could have stopped it.” My voice went very soft, a whisper. “You should have told me. And now I can never tell you the things I need to. I can’t tell you how much I miss your face. I miss your smell. The way you looked at me when I wasn’t paying attention, and the way you weren’t embarrassed when I looked back. Your touch…” I felt the sobs forming anew as I spoke and I cried then in a way I had never let myself do before. I let out everything that had been festering inside me. I couldn’t hold it in any longer. When I finished I felt weak and wrung out. I raised my head at last.

“You were everything to me,” I said to the wolf that stared at me, still as a stone. “And I don’t think I can change you back. I’m so sorry.”

There was a splash in the water nearby. All the animals had gone still. Not a frog croaked. I wondered how loudly I had cried to startle them so much. I felt almost ashamed of myself. Slobodians didn’t cry, Slobodians got angry.

But then, I’d never really been a Slobodian.

Lucifer raised his shaggy head and pricked his ears. I looked out at the murky water. The rushes that grew all around were quivering. Leaves rained down on us and ripples appeared in the water. I tried to back away, but there was no safe place. All around me was swamp. The trees had no low-lying branches and there was nowhere to go.
 

Larger splashes were rising up all around us. The mud under my feet vibrated and I had to sit up on the long root of one of the mangrove trees to keep from getting stuck in the soft, mushy ground. Lucifer was backing away too, his ears against the sides of his head, his tail limp.
 

Some rushes nearby began to rise then, into the air, so high that they blocked the moon and for a moment everything seemed pitch black.
 

Then the ground moved like it was alive.
 

I blinked, trying to wrap my mind around what was happening, and suddenly was looking into an orb bigger than my head. It had a pupil and was ringed with shades of orange and yellow and green. It blinked at me. Then I took in the whole of it. An eye, large and orange with a pupil like a slit down the middle. A great bulbous head, nearly shapeless and covered in rushes and mud and slimy weeds. Arms that spread out impossibly far, the tips of which rose out of the swamp almost nervously, as though they had never felt the air on them. Fear stuck in my throat.
 

I looked over at Lucifer. He wasn’t making a sound and seemed frozen where he was. Slowly, he lowered his head, his eyes rolling around as though he were panicked. The eye seemed to be looking at me.


You don’t belong here
,” said a voice, old and damp and vibrating through me. “
None of you belong here.

It took me a moment to find my voice. “I’m sorry.”


Sorry? Gods are not sorry.

“I’m not a god,” I said.


If there were not a god within you, I would have killed you. May I look at you?

“You are looking at me,” I said, but then I felt something cold wrapping around my leg. It slithered up my spine, around my neck and, like a nightmare, wrapped around my face. I grabbed onto it, but it was formless and smooth and wherever my fingers grabbed, it changed and was suddenly somewhere else. I felt my eyes roll back as something flashed, bright and dark at the same time, and I felt the fire rise up in my belly, spreading out, growing stronger until I wasn’t in the water any more. I was above the water, above the thing that had grabbed me, above everything.
 

I moved without seeing, I knew without looking. There was a world and it was mine, and I knew how everything in it was made, and how it so easily could be unmade. There was a heat that ran through the world. Not like the heat inside me, these creatures could never stand that. But little pieces of my heat among these beautiful things. They had started so low, and knew how to rise so, so high. They created, they loved, they felt, and they died for passion. I felt overwhelmed as I saw it. Saw it all. Saw it, felt it, loved it.
 

I gasped for air as the creature released me. I fell back into the water and clawed at my face for something that was no longer there.

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