Ann Aguirre - Devil's Punch

“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.

“Thoughts?” I said, retreating to a safe distance.

“It doesn’t mind our company,” Chance mused, “but it doesn’t trust us yet.”

“How do we gain its confidence?” I asked Greydusk.

The demon lifted a shoulder. “I’ve no idea. If you’d asked, I wouldn’t have imagined we could escape the magus trap.”

“But you’re our guide.”

“To the city . I can’t be expected to know the solution to every obstacle.”

“Fair enough. Then would you check how thoroughly it blocked the path?” I asked the demon.

“Certainly.”

The Gorder didn’t object when Greydusk left the lair, going back the way we’d come. So it definitely was a hoard issue. Somehow, we had to befriend it. While I thought about that, Chance sank down against the opposite rock wall.

At my inquiring look, he shrugged. “What? I’m tired.”

“Yeah, it’s been a hell of a day.”

When the demon came back, it reported, “The collapse closed the passage completely. It would take magickal intervention to clear it.”

“Is that a possibility?” I asked.

Greydusk nodded. “But not all demons would be able to cast such a spell.”

“Who could?”

“The Saremon.”

“Could they also create a magus trap?”

“Yes, but that spell can also be bound in a trigger object and released.”

“So any demon could have bought one.” I tapped my fingers on my knee, thoughtful.

“Basically,” Greydusk confirmed.

Chance sighed. “That doesn’t help us figure out who’s after us.”

“That’s not the immediate problem anyway. We have to get out of here.” I tried the approach again, but the Gorder roused at once and made a warning sound.

“You called it,” Greydusk said thoughtfully. “That implies a certain level of control. Can you try commanding it?”

I laughed at the notion. Why would this beast listen to me? But it was worth a shot. In fact, it was the only idea we had.

I moved toward the tunnel. The Gorder roused, ready to snarl, but I drew on my full power. Magick snapped through me like a live current, and when I spoke, it gave my voice an odd burr. “You trust me. You love me. You know I would never hurt you or your hoard.”

It gave a questioning trill, and Butch yapped. The effort of holding the charm hurt. The magick burned deeper as I edged backward. I motioned for the others to follow me. Come on, I don’t know how much longer I can do this .

To my vast relief, Chance and Greydusk slid past. Butch followed.

“Stay,” I told the lizard-worm as I exited.

To my astonishment, it listened to me. The creature didn’t budge as I led the way through the channel, which sloped up toward the surface. I shook all over in reaction. I let the magick drain out of me as I saw the gray light of Sheol. I scrambled out of the hole and waited while Greydusk summoned the carriage.

“We must hurry,” it said.

Well, obviously. I cast the demon an evil look as it filled our ride with Klothod. Shudder. I’d never get used to that.

In short order, we got moving again. The plain descended into a valley that was framed on two sides by rocky bluffs. Dark, red-veined rock didn’t resemble anything I’d ever seen on earth; it was like diabolic marble.

Greydusk followed my gaze and said quietly, “Don’t let it touch your skin.”

Since the carriage was whizzing along at a crazy, jarring speed, that wasn’t probable. But still, I asked, “Why not?”

“This is called the Chasm of Despair for a reason.”

At those words I took a closer look over the side and saw that bones littered the ground here. Their posture was…disturbing, as if someone had leaned up against the cliff for a rest, and then just never mustered the will to move. Despair, I thought, and a chill rolled through me. There was an insidious power in this place, one that sapped inner strength and hope and made you feel as though it was too much trouble to try.