Angie Fox - The Last of the Demon Slayers

“Gotcha.” We let the ‘fallen’ part slide.

“Can demons sense you sifting?” I asked.

“Of course. That’s why we throw out our light crystals and start shooting.”

“Oh great.”

“You have a better plan?” he asked.

“Unfortunately, no.”

“We cut Rachmort out of his bonds, or if he’s not attached to the wall, we take him lock, stock and barrel.”

“And we sift out,” I finished.

“Yes.” He practically clapped.

“Where?”

“I have a place I use when I’m here-” he began.

No good. “Zatar will know about that.”

“A secret place,” he assured me. “Of course Zatar will track us in an instant. The demon dust should slow him down. That’s where we count on Rachmort to give us a portal.”

It made me nervous. “I don’t know, Dad.” A lot had to go right - even if Rachmort was alive and conscious.

“You have a better idea?” he asked.

“No.”

I hated to admit it, but his plan was all we had. It was as simple as we could make it. Plus, if Dad was right about sifting and where to find Rachmort, we might be able to pull it off.

Unless we sifted into a room full of demons.

Focus.

I couldn’t control that. The only thing I could do was trust Dad and fight like Hades. I leaned my head against the dingy gray wall.

Oh for my days as a preschool teacher when the little demons left school at noon.

I couldn’t take my eyes off the castle. Suppose we did make it out of here in one piece… “What’s Zatar going to do to you if he discovers you broke Rachmort out?”

He didn’t answer. He just kept looking out over no-man’s land.

“Dad?” I pushed.

“It won’t be good.”

“Now I know where I got my gift for understatement.”

He turned to me. “You know what? I don’t care. For the first time, I’m meeting Zatar head on. I need to do this, Lizzie.”

“It’s brave. And stupid.”

“Kind of like you trying to be a demon slayer without any training.”

“How did you know about that?”

“You’re starting to get a reputation.” He broke into a smile. “This is…” he began, searching for the words. “I was going to say hell, but it’s not.” He looked at me with such warmth that I melted a bit. “This is not how I would have ever chosen to get to know you, Lizzie. But right now, I can’t think of anybody else I’d rather have with me.”

Warmth crept into my belly. “Me too.”

Sure, it wasn’t a normal father-daughter relationship, but somehow it fit, although I could have done without the demon castle and purgatory.

He grew serious. “I never wanted to go, Lizzie. I wanted to raise you. I left because I didn’t want you exposed to this world. You deserved better.”

See, that’s where he had it wrong. I hadn’t wanted better . I’d just wanted to fit in.

“I’m glad I have you now,” I said, looking out at the massive gray walls. I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the neutralizers against my stomach.

“Here,” I said, drawing out one of the guns. I didn’t need to carry both of them anymore.

Dad grinned as he took it.

“Listen, can you sift me in and out from here?” I asked. Not that I wanted to break into Zatar’s compound by myself, but… “If he’s going to sense you or hurt you –”

“No chance.” Dad tried to stuff the gun into the top of his pajama pants and when that didn’t work, he gave up and held it low at his side. “Don’t you see, Lizzie? I have to go in there. I haven’t felt this hopeful in a long time. If we get Rachmort, we have a good shot at winning this.”

“Brave and stupid.”

“Like father, like daughter.”

I couldn’t help grinning. “In that case, I have some cutters for you,” I said, sliding them out from my hip.

He hefted them before clipping them to his pants.

“And a crystal.”

He shoved it in his pocket and held up his neutralizer. “Ready?” he asked, offering me his hand. I took it and he squeezed tight. “Let’s go.”

I’d expected sifting with a minor angel to be like flying. Or maybe like passing through a warm, inviting curtain of air. Instead it was like a big sneeze.

“Hold on,” Dad cautioned.

No problem there. I clutched his hand and covered my weapons as the pressure built. I wasn’t about to let my neutralizer or anything else fly out of my possession and into the abyss. Not this time.

“Brace yourself,” Dad said, “Aaa…”

Boom!

We slammed to a knee-rattling stop inside a pitch black chamber. The smell of sulfur was enough to knock me sideways. Definitely a demon’s lair.

My eyes watered and my nose tickled and I let out a sinus-rattling, “Aaa-cho!”

Dad gripped my hand tighter.

“I got it,” I said, attempting to extricate myself. His fingers closed around mine in a vise grip.

What? Was he losing his nerve?

“Let go.” I forced myself out of his hold.

No doubt Zatar knew we were here. He’d be barging in at any moment. I tossed my crystal to the floor, watching it shatter into brilliant blue spheres of light.

We were in a round chamber with gray stone walls and a ceiling that stretched higher than the light afforded by the crystals. There was one door to my right, zero windows. It wasn’t the best defensive position. If I had to guess, I’d say we were probably in one of the turrets.

Zebediah Rachmort sat tied to a heavy wooden chair. His white Einstein hair burst into an even bigger mess than usual. His hands bent at an unnatural angle behind the wide back of the chair and blood dried on his fingers and crusted around the chains at his wrists.

“Keep your back to the wall,” I told Dad. I’d learned that one from Max.

I approached Rachmort carefully, aware this could be a trap.

“Who is it?” He struggled to turn. “Get away from me!”

My mentor wore a dirty gold waistcoat over a formerly white shirt and rumpled brown pants. His eyes were dull and glassy. I’d never seen him like this. Rachmort was the kind of guy who always looked like he was about to tell a joke. Of course I’d never seen Rachmort in the clutches of a demon.

“Hush, it’s me,” I said. His shoulders sagged in recognition. “Hold on. I’m going to see if you’re wired.” I ran my hands over him, looking for magical traps.

He strained to see me. “You have to get out of here. The demon wants you!”

“I know,” I said, speaking low, purposefully calm. “Believe me, we won’t be wasting any time.”

He was clean.

I grabbed Rachmort around the arm. “Sift us, Dad. Now!”

Dad braced his hands against the gray stone, fear written on his face. “No,” he shook his head. “Not yet. I need more strength.”

“What?” He had to be kidding. That wasn’t part of the plan. “How long?”

“A minute,” he insisted, “at the most.”

Yeah, well I didn’t know if we had that long. I couldn’t believe Dad didn’t warn me about a sifting delay.

“At the most,” I warned him.

I reached for the cutters at my hip. Maybe I could get us out of here. If I could get Rachmort unshackled, he could open up a portal.

“Lizzie,” Rachmort said, struggling to see me, “this whole thing is a trap,” he insisted.

“Yeah, I kind of figured that,” I said, working my saw into the bands at his wrists. Maybe Zatar would get cocky and take his sweet time.

Or maybe he’d attack us any second.

“Did you know these cuffs are made of a titanium alloy only found in purgatory?” Rachmort asked, excited and a little breathless. The professor was back.