'Tween Heaven and Hell (19 page)

I laughed. “Hey, thanks. That clears things right up.”

The High Council frowned. “Do not ever forget you’ve been
selected to work in His service, Tweener Phelps. Trust in Him and all will
become clear.”

“Yeah, right. Does that mean that I have the Council’s
protection?”

He looked a little pained at this. Turning away he motioned
for Myra to come. “To the extent that it is possible we will protect you, Mx.
Phelps.”

“I’m underwhelmed. Thanks.” Myra touched my forehead and we
did the statue dance back to my office. As soon as my parts would work again I
opened my mouth to fire questions at my angel. But she was having none of it.
She shimmered away before I could get a single word out. Stinkin’, damn angel.

Chapter
Seventeen

Get Thee Behind Me Satan

And in the lair the devil sat, his placid face adroop

He waited for his maiden fair, to rid the fan of royal
poop.

I entered the church through the same doors I’d entered when
I’d found Deaver twirling from the office ceiling fan. I stood in the
musty-smelling, dimly lit foyer and wondered at the change in atmosphere from
the last time I’d been there. A quick search of the main level showed me that
the only way up was the staircase I’d climbed to Deaver’s office.

With a feeling of foreboding that surprised me a little, I
retraced my steps of that fateful night. I quickly found myself immersed in
total darkness as I ascended the staircase to the second floor. At the landing
I looked for a moment toward the hall that fed the church offices and
suppressed a shiver. Something evil was resting nearby. That knowledge didn’t
exactly entice me to move ever higher into the profound shadows that awaited me
as the stairway climbed away from the second floor.

I pulled out the palm-sized canister light I’d placed in my
coat pocket before leaving my office. “Light on full.” The powerful Halolight
X14 light clicked on, illuminating the staircase and throwing the levels above
me into bright relief. I took a deep breath and started climbing again. Three
floors later I emerged onto the final landing and stood facing a heavy wooden
door that looked like it had been ripped right out of the stone wall of a
sixteenth century castle.

The heavy planks of the door were bound together with
rusted, metal straps, which were about four inches wide and a quarter of an
inch thick. The entrance was “locked” by way of a heavy wooden plank, which
rested in thick flat metal hooks that were mounted into the stone wall on
either side of it. Embedded in the ancient blackened wood were several crosses,
which glowed with a familiar green light. I touched the door and felt a jolt.
Apparently it had been touched by royal magic. I realized that, primitive as
the latch was, backed up by royal powers, it would be immensely effective for
keeping prisoners in the room that waited beyond.

Tentatively I reached out again and touched the surface of
the door with my palm. I found that the tingling sensation of power it emitted
was bearable if I pushed back at it a bit with my own power. I reached to lift
the plank and learned that it was at least as heavy as it looked.

With some sweating and swearing I managed to lift the wooden
plank and then nearly dropped it on my toe when I had it free. The noise I made
all but ensured that if anything was waiting for me behind that door it would
have no doubt that I’d arrived.

With some serious feelings of dread, I pulled an eight-inch
silver and platinum dagger from the sheath I wore around my waist and dragged
the door open just enough to allow me to squirm through. I shined the search
light into the inky darkness that engulfed the tower room and swung it in a
slow arc before slithering the rest of the way through the door. The space was
circular, about ten yards in diameter and had stone walls. I saw with a feeling
of disgust that, in several places on those walls, beefy-looking rings of some
kind of ancient metal, maybe iron, were bolted into the wall high and low,
apparently so that they could restrain some unfortunate victim’s wrists and
ankles.

The walls seemed to glow with that strange green light I’d
noticed in Nerul’s court. Looking up, I saw that, although the room did not
appear to be open to the night air, the ceiling was either extremely high or
was masked behind some kind of spell. I shone my powerful light above my head
but I couldn’t see the top of the room. My guess was that some kind of masking
spell had been used to hide it, for whatever reason.

In the center of the room a ring of crosses stood about
fifteen feet tall. The wood that formed the crosses looked to be about eight
inches square and had the deep, black patina of extreme old age. In fact the
wood appeared to be petrified and I figured it would be nearly impenetrable to
anything but the most powerful magic. The arms of the crosses met to form a
non-breaking barrier that would hold whatever had been imprisoned there within
their grasp. Within the circular prison, the floor was littered with burnt out
candles and discarded utensils, as if someone had eaten and held a series of
ceremonies there for an extended period of time.

I moved into the room and immediately stumbled over
something squishy and rank smelling on the floor. I dropped the beam of my
search light to illuminate the mangled and rotting carcass of a dead gargoyle.
I stepped over the disgusting thing and moved toward the circle of crosses.

Touching one of the crosses, I was surprised to find it warm
against my hand. I was even more surprised when the thing started to glow and
hum.

I pulled my hand away as an image of blood and pain tore
through my brain. My hand, where it had touched the cross, was pulsing with the
same strange green light and tingled unpleasantly. “Shit.”

As the cross gradually lost its glow, I forced myself to
touch it again and was immediately assailed by the disgusting vision of
gargoyles feasting on the tender flesh of a young man, whose pale, tortured
face seemed to stare right into my own. As I watched in horror, his bloody lips
split in a gruesome scream, the intense blue eyes begging silently for my help.

I yanked my hand away from the cross once again and
shrieked. I took several quick steps away from the ring of crosses. Clutching
my dagger more tightly in a sweaty hand, I discovered I was panting and tried
to stop by taking deep breaths. I rubbed the spot on my hand that still
tingled, more painfully now that the vision had come to me with such intensity.

What had I seen? Was that young Prince Nille who’d looked
into my eyes from deep within the vision and had called out for my help? I’d
watched the gargoyles tearing his flesh, devouring it as they ravaged his
beautiful, young body. Had I viewed the past, or the future? Was I too late to
save him or just in time? Was he already dead or still alive somewhere, sending
me this message to let me know he needed my help? And where the hell was he if
he was still alive?

My head began to scream as a brutal headache closed in on me
and my thoughts went fuzzy through the pain. I closed my eyes and tried to
think, think, think. What was it about that pale face that had clutched my
heart and made me want to rescue him? I’d seen his father doing his evil thing
and the reality was that, like the ancient human saying goes, the kumquat never
falls too far from the bush. Or something like that. Which told me that Prince
Nille of the tortured blue gaze was almost certainly a monster just like his
father. So why then did I feel such pain at his apparent death? And what had I
seen in that pale blood-covered face that was clutching at my soul and making
my head pound with tension?

“We meet again pathetic Tweener.”

I jumped and whirled around. Standing just inside the
ancient wooden door…the only door into or out of the prison space…was beautiful
and coldly evil Princess Rayanne with a bone-chilling smile on her stunning
face. And behind her, drooling with ravenous anticipation, stood a legion of
gargoyles that looked suspiciously like the ones I’d just seen eating Prince
Nille in my blood-drenched vision. This was
not
good.

“It is indeed unusual to see a non-royal receive visions of
that clarity and intensity. I wonder that you’ve managed it. Apparently there
is more to you than the court realizes.”

I counted the slavering disgustables behind the evil miss
and felt my stomach tumble with nerves. Six drooling gargoyles. Six
hungry-looking, flesh-eating gargoyles. So much for the ancient human wives’
tale about gargoyles bringing good luck. Humans are such incredible saps.

A snarling arose as two of the gargoyles started to peck at
the rotting carcass of their fallen comrade on the floor. One of the nasty
things tried to sink its fangs into his hungry friend and the snarling
increased in intensity and volume. While everybody was distracted by the
disgusting display, I decided it would be a good time to put some distance
between me and the evil Barbie. I backed up a few inches, glancing around to
get the measure of my chances for escape.

Rayanne raised a hand to silence them and, reluctantly, they
ambled away from the carcass. Apparently she had no trouble handling her
gargoyles.

I wondered what she was doing there and decided the best way
to find out was to just, well, ask. “Princess sunshine, what brings you here?”

Her full, perfect lips parted in a blood-red smile. “Still
more guts than brains I see, pathetic Tweener. I hope you don’t think your
angels will protect you from me.”

My eyebrows flew skyward before I could stop them.

She laughed. “Yes. I am fully aware that you have the ear of
the Council. Is that where you draw your power from?”

I shrugged and slowly dropped the hand with the dagger in it
to my side. If I was really lucky she’d forget I had it. Not that she couldn’t
take me out from a distance, but hey, give me points for trying here. “What
powers?”

Her eyes sparkled. “The powers I saw with my own eyes. It
doesn’t matter. Do not think they will dirty their pale, pristine hands in this
business. They have sent you to draw our fire.” She cocked her dark head and
the thick braid of hair tumbled over her shoulder to puddle on the floor beside
her. “I wonder what they hope to gain.” When it became apparent to her that I
considered her question rhetorical, she shrugged and smiled her icy smile at
me. “It doesn’t matter. For you the end result is the same.”

She raised a hand and the gargoyles dropped to their more
natural four-footed stance and started moving forward. I began to back slowly
toward the cross prison, forgetting about its painful effect on me as my eyes
drew back and forth across the limited space looking for a way out. The
gargoyles began to whimper and slaver as they came closer, their bear-like
gaits becoming more predatory and careful as they realized from my stance and
the fact that I held an eight-inch-long platinum and silver knife in front of
me that I would fight back when they attacked.

The leader was slightly larger than the rest and seemed a
little more intelligent. As I stared into his leather-encased eyes, I saw
hesitation there and maybe a little dread. This intrigued me and I decided to
test it.

Closing my eyes, I quickly searched the core of my power and
released it. I allowed it to flow out and form a circle of protection around
me. The power bubbled to the surface and pulsed there, coating my body like a
suit of impenetrable armor. I opened my eyes as I felt the first tentative
touch of the leader against my power bubble. He stared back at me with real
fear in his eyes and I had to wonder why. I guess not too many of his meals
knew how to protect themselves with magic.

My unwavering gaze brought him to his stomach in a grovel
before me. At his movement, the rest of the gargoyles began whimpering and
backing away, some prostrating themselves before me as their leader had done.

While this certainly was a welcome surprise, I knew it
didn’t necessarily solve my problems. I still had Rayanne to worry about and I
was sure I wouldn’t be able to hold the protective screen for long. At best, it
had given me some time to figure out my next move.

I thought briefly of turning the full strength of my power
on the gargoyles and vaporizing them as I’d done the demons in Nerul’s court,
but I knew that to accomplish that, I’d have to take my attention off of their
dangerous mistress for far too long.

Even as I thought of her, her voice came into my head.
Tweener,
Astra
? I fought the urge to look at her as her words came to me, probing
and shaped like a question mark. I got the sense that she wasn’t sure I could
hear her. It was obviously a test. One I was determined to fail.

Studiously ignoring her, I kept her in my peripheral vision
as I left my unwavering gaze on the gargoyle leader. I’d decided that, if I
could control him, I could control the whole disgusting, slobbering crew. He
had remained flat on the floor, but had begun to scoot backward, keeping his
worried leather eyes on me.

“Gunther!” The bark of his angry mistress stopped him cold.
His head swung around and he whimpered pitifully at her. I almost felt sorry
for the disgusting little bastard. Almost. She spoke to him in the language of
Hades.

Not being a student of the language I couldn’t tell you what
she said. I was pretty sure she wasn’t telling him to braid my hair for me. He
pulled himself off the floor and stood, sniffing the air in my direction
nervously before beginning to move tentatively in my direction. His soldiers,
not being all that bright and essentially driven by their need to kill and eat,
eagerly moved around him and converged on me.

I braced for the onslaught. As the first gargoyle hit my
protective wall the power shuddered but held. The ’goyle bounced off with a
snarl and scurried away to think about the zing he’d received when he’d touched
my power. Gargoyles are nothing if not persistent, however. When the first one
had pinged away, the rest had stopped and watched him carefully to see if he
was permanently damaged. As he regained his feet and shook it off, the rest of
them decided I still looked like a pretty tasty morsel and turned their watery
gaze back to me.