Devil's Punch (Corine Solomon #4)

Devil's Punch (Corine Solomon #4) Page 12

I climbed down and checked on Butch. He was cowering at the bottom of my purse, looking as miserable as I’d ever seen him. He didn’t even lick my hand when I picked him up. This was one traumatized dog.

“Sorry.”

Butch stared up at me with limpid, despondent eyes, and when I said, “Don’t worry—we’ll figure it out,” he didn’t even dispute me. Which was really, really bad. When your Chihuahua stops arguing with you, you know you’re in trouble.

“Magus trap,” Greydusk said finally.

“How does it work?” Chance joined the Imaron, unwilling to take the demon’s word that there was no way out. So I watched him mime his way around the square too. God, this really was hell. No wonder Maury wanted out so bad.

Greydusk explained, “Magical lines are drawn, and when the desired target crosses, they snap together, creating an unbreakable casement.”

“Shit,” I said. “So we just sit here, waiting for whoever to collect us?”

If possible, its gray skin went paler, sickly green, as if it contemplated the surety of its own death. “I know of no way to break this enchantment.”

For sure, mime-craft wasn’t doing it. “Cut it out,” I said to Chance. “There are four walls…we get it.”

Expression sheepish, he returned to my side and slid an arm around my shoulders. “Unbelievable, right?”

“Yep.” I pointed at the carriage. “You might want to put that back in the box. It’s taking up a lot of room. I figure the spell goes both ways?”

Greydusk nodded. Having something to do seemed to help it. I held out my hand for Chance’s backpack. Once he handed it over, I dug for grimoires. If we had limited time to figure out a way out of this before our captors arrived, I wanted to be ready. I flipped open the blue book and started reading.

Most of the spells weren’t helpful. My mother had been a white witch, one who believed in getting back to nature, so there were lots of charms for growing plants and discouraging animals from rummaging around in your garden. If I wanted a life like that, I’d never have to worry about gophers eating my veggies. Unfortunately, I didn’t see a damn thing that could get us out of a magus trap.

“Balls,” I muttered.

Chance knelt beside me. “No luck?”

It was fantastic that he sounded surprised, as if he thought enough of my abilities that I could cast something that would help. Min’s abilities were quieter, though I did believe her salves and creams had magickal healing properties. His mother went more for result than special effects, and Lily’s ability hadn’t been flashy either. I mean, when she went astral, she just laid there. Not exactly ostentatious.

“Would you mind skimming the red one for me?” In my bones I knew we had to hurry.

“Of course.” He took it and sank down beside me. “Can you cast all of these?”

“More or less.”

I didn’t admit I hadn’t practiced them all. Especially not the gopher spells. Glancing up, I had an idea, so I plucked a small stone from the ground, stood, and threw it upward as hard as I could. At twenty feet or so, it plinked into an invisible ceiling and came back down. That was probably why the quasits weren’t inside with us and instead had to content themselves with taunting from outside.

Then it hit me. I’d touched the ground. Picked up a rock. Which meant this thing had no floor. Chewing my lip in delighted inspiration, I ripped the red grimoire out of Chance’s hands with an apologetic look. I flipped the pages madly until I found the spell I wanted…and then sighed in relief when I saw it had no herbal components. Thank you, Mom. I read it four times, memorizing the related sigils.

It was risky as hell, but I might be able to reverse-engineer this. Her spell was designed to drive away gophers. If I tweaked it and cast it backward, I might be able to attract tunneling creatures. And that would give us a way out, provided whatever I summoned didn’t eat us. Chance knew I’d figured something out, but he didn’t ask. He just made room. Greydusk watched me with hope dawning in its expression, like it believed I might be able to break us out of the indestructible snare. Watch me try.

I drew my athame and brought my magick up, so that it flared in sparks from my fingertips. In the air, I etched one symbol in reverse order while the energy swirled around me in dark circles. Casting felt different in Sheol, darker and more dire. Would my halo show my trip to the underworld as well? I’d be lucky if I didn’t become kill on sight to all other gifted humans hereafter, but I couldn’t worry about that now. The spell swelled to a crescendo, pain boiled up from my belly, through my hips, and down my arms to flash from my fingertips.

“Advenio,” I shouted as I released it.

Arrive.

And something did. The ground rumbled beneath our feet, starting far away and closing the distance with terrible speed. Rocks trembled as the creature came, frantic to answer my call. The impact shook me to my knees when a yawning hole opened up in the earth. An enormous thing rose before me; it had a lizard’s body and a worm’s head, and no eyes, but instead, its mouth ran all the way across its face. It turned its blind head toward me and a white forked tongue licked out. I froze, staring at the creature I’d called.

“The Gorder awaits your orders,” Greydusk said softly.

In some ways, it reminded me of ancient renderings of Chinese dragons, only with a more reptilian body. I had no idea if I had any control over this beast. By reversing the charm, I’d called it, but my mother hadn’t written command spells. Therefore, I could only guess how to proceed. Magick had drawn it to me, and something was keeping it from attacking.

I summoned just enough power to lend my words weight, pushing it out as I spoke. “Lead us to safety.”

Its head tilted this way and that, and I feared it had decided to eat us, but then its gigantic body twisted in the tunnel, and it scrambled out of sight. Shocked out of my stillness, I charged after it. Greydusk followed me. Chance paused to grab his backpack and my Butch-filled purse; afterward, he slid down into the burrow. It looked like the Gorder had chewed its way to us, and if it lived on rock and dirt, maybe it didn’t crave flesh after all. That would be a nice surprise. I ran along the rocky channel; it was more than large enough for us to move upright, but the least movement caused dirt to crumble down, giving me some fear that we’d end up buried alive. But that might be better than waiting for whoever had trapped us. I felt sure they didn’t have friendly intentions.

Every now and then, the Gorder angled its neck to ensure that I was still with it. We ran I don’t know how long, until the space widened into what I’d call a lair. Interesting things lay scattered around the ground—shiny objects, old weapons, gemstones, gold, and sadly…bones. So it didn’t eat rocks. Bummer.

The Gorder trilled. Shit. Yeah. This qualified as one of those out of the frying pan moments. For the time being, the demons hunting us wouldn’t be able to find us and if they did, I suspected my new pet lizard-worm would eat them. But this wasn’t what I had in mind as a final destination.

“What now?” Chance asked.

God, I wished I knew.

While I watched in alarm, it curled into a ball on top of its treasure pile. This was how I imagined a dragon would behave, but this thing wasn’t exactly a dragon. They always wanted virgins in the stories, but the Gorder didn’t appear to hold my experience against me.

“There are other tunnels,” Greydusk said. “Perhaps one of them leads to the surface?”

“I’m willing to try, provided Scary doesn’t object to us leaving. Chance, can you find a way out?”

“Already on it.”

The air around him gained a subtle charge, as if each particle had a little lightning in it. It raised the hair on the nape of my neck, and the Gorder cocked its sightless head as if it sensed the change in the atmosphere. It trilled deep in its throat, followed by a growl. It showed teeth, aiming its head at Chance, and I motioned for him to stop.

“I guess it wants to keep us,” I said tiredly.

“When they arrive, your would-be captors will be able to follow the tunnels,” Greydusk said. “Therefore, time is of the essence.”

I frowned at him. “Yeah, but Dragonface doesn’t want us to go!”

“Talk about a rock and a hard place,” Chance muttered.

Since we were surrounded by tons of the stuff, I wondered if that was supposed to be funny. I moved closer to the Gorder. “Could you seal the tunnel behind us? Bad demons might come and try to steal your stuff.”

The monster perked up with a disapproving roar and I scrambled backward. “Hey, not me. I’m a good guy. See? This is me, not stealing your hoard. I won’t touch anything, I swear, but if you go block the tunnel, that should keep them away from your gold.”

The Gorder snuffled as if considering. Eventually, it slid off the pile and scrambled the way we’d come. It left long enough for Chance to locate the path, but before we could dash for the exit, the underground warren trembled. Impact was strong enough to throw me to the ground, and chunks of rock broke away from the ceiling, bombarding us. I dove clear, but a good-size stone clipped Greydusk on the shoulder.

As the dust settled, I crawled toward it. “How badly are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” the demon said, as if surprised that I’d even ask.

I offered a hand to pull Greydusk to its feet, and that was when the Gorder returned. It trumpeted a celebratory sound, obviously expecting praise for a job well done. So I said, “Great work. Now they can’t steal your treasure.”

It growled.

At that moment, Butch came out of his stupor at last. He popped his head out of the bag; I expected him to disappear again with a whimper, but instead, the crazy dog came out and took a couple of tiny steps toward the dragon-beast. Ordinarily, Butch would be barking, trying to assert his dominance when he had no hope in hell of doing so, but this time his stance was almost playful; he pranced one step closer, two steps back, while he held his tail high, wagging like mad.

“It’s going to eat you,” I whispered to the dog.

The Gorder reared, its blind face turning to follow Butch’s movements. Its tongue licked out to taste the air.

“That’s how they see,” Greydusk said quietly.

I watched, astonished, as Butch went all the way over to the Gorder’s tail and then hopped up. The little dog ran along the curve of the creature’s spine and found a place to snuggle in. The beast let out a trill. Though I didn’t speak dragon-thing, I suspected trills were good; growls were bad. The Gorder coiled its body, showing every sign of going to sleep, though it was kind of hard to tell without eyes.

“Huh,” Chance said. “It likes dogs.”

“Let’s see if it will let us leave,” I murmured.

If it was asleep, we could slip past and call Butch once we were safe. Making no sudden movements, I edged in the direction Chance had specified earlier, but as I drew closer to the hoard, the Gorder growled at me. I backed away. Unfortunately, there was no way to reach the tunnel without passing the treasure pile.