Angie Fox - ADS 03 - A Tale of Two Demon Slayers

“Clear your mind,” I heard him say.

“Yes.” I let my body go and focused on using the bar like the tool it was. It felt heavier than it had been. Heat pooled in my hand and raced up my arm. I gripped the bar tighter, and a door opened in my mind.

The grass shifted as Rachmort planted himself next to me. “Let it in,” he urged.

I swam through a murky current, the vision just out of reach. I concentrated hard on my defenses, willing each of them to drop until I saw myself. Only it wasn’t me. It was a shadowy copy. I could feel the malice and the hate dripping from it. It flung a volley of switch stars directly at my chest.

The cold sting of impact swept the breath right out of me.

My eyes flew open. “Make it stop!”

Rachmort gripped my shoulders, “What did you see?”

“Me. Only it wasn’t me, but it tried to kill me!”

He pulled back. “Interesting,” he said, tugging at his chin.

“Is that all you can say? I was almost gutted by a blast of switch stars.” I was gutted. I felt the impact.

“Are you sure you focused on a great triumph?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said with more force than I meant. I couldn’t help it. I felt tricked, betrayed. “Why does this flipping bar think I have to die?”

Rachmort didn’t answer. He simply looked at me, stroking his chin.

Lovely.

I glanced down at the bar. It was invisible again. One step forward, two steps back. “Why can’t I see it?”

Rachmort seemed deep in thought. “You see it as invisible,” he said. “You saw it that way from the start and choose to see it that way now.”

Part of me doubted it. So far, I hadn’t gotten to choose much about my new life.

“Try,” Rachmort said. “You’re more in control of your destiny than you imagine.”

I found that hard to believe. If I were in control of things, I’d have been lounging on the beach with Dimitri with no imps, biker witches or trouble in sight.

I focused on Zebediah, his intense expression almost willing me to succeed. Okay. I could do this. I focused the bar, asking it to show itself. To my surprise, it appeared solid in my hand. “Amazing.”

“Yes,” he mused, “I suppose it is. The world is a shocking place, more so if you are a new demon slayer. I can’t tell you what to think of the bar or of your vision. That is for you to decide. But you will find that no matter how situations seem to unfold in strange and unpredictable ways, you have more control than you imagine. Whether it is with a pack of rampaging imps or a boyfriend,” he said with a wink, “the same rules apply.”

He made it seem so simple, and yet…I turned the bar over in my hands. “How do I look at things in new ways if I don’t even know I’m looking at them wrong?”

“It is the struggle of a lifetime, one we must always mind. The biggest danger is when we think we know all there is to know.”

“Great. So you’re still learning too.”

“Always,” he said. “Now come with me.” He walked me to the oak tree near the path I’d taken that morning. “I plan to learn a great deal from you as well.”

I didn’t know if he was just trying to make me feel good or if he really could learn from a demon slayer like me.

“There is a saying. When the old oak stops growing, you know it’s dead.”

I lifted my eyes to the crooked tree, with its thick trunk and maze of twisted braches.

“Now why don’t you climb it?”

“Excuse me?”

“It seems you are to be tested soon, and there is much for you to learn. We will start with one of your more basic skills, levitation.”

“But Ant Eater said we’d use the pergola,” I said, not quite sure why I was protesting the location when what really bothered me was the idea of a leap off of a tall object. The last time I’d tried to levitate, I’d been forced to jump off a tall ladder onto a bed of rusty nails.

Rachmort barked out a laugh. “The pergola, Lizzie? You’d crack your head open on the porch.”

Yes, that possibility had occurred to me too.

“You’re much better off landing in the grass,” he said, kicking away some of the acorns and sticks from under the tree.

I could see his point. “You expect me to crash, don’t you?”

“Perhaps.”

“What about your expert training?”

He winked. “That can’t begin until you climb the tree.”

I flumped onto the ground for the second time that day, pain shooting up my hips and shoulders and no closer to levitation than Pirate was to keeping his pet dragon.

Rachmort’s face appeared above me. “That was an improvement.” The man seemed genuinely excited.

“How so?” I asked, digging an acorn out of the small of my back.

“You didn’t hesitate as much before you jumped. Quite admirable after the way you landed on that Frozen Underwear spell the last time.”

I really wished the biker witches would clean up after themselves. “I thought I’d cleared out everything from under the tree,” I said, digging a curved, razor-sharp badger tooth out from under my thigh. Praise be to thick leather pants. “The Red Skulls better stop leaving me gifts.” I tossed the inch-and-a-half monstrosity into the woods behind me. “I don’t care if they’re good luck.”

“You must block out these distractions,” he said, as if he’d never met the Red Skulls and their particular brand of magic.

Rachmort hunkered on the balls of his feet above me. “Levitation is about looking to the outside. That is a demon slayer truth, no? Lose the fear of what will happen next. Will I land on my back? Will I land on my head? Just what is under the tree?”

Actually, I thought those were all fair questions.

Rachmort didn’t let up for a second. “Focus on the forces around you that will lift you up,” he urged. “Trust them.”

“Sure,” I said, wishing I believed it.

“You must have the courage to fail,” he insisted.

Yes, well I certainly had that.

“Now come,” he said, helping me stand. “We will try once more.”

My sore fingers protested as once again I dug them against the rough bark of the oak tree and began the climb of doom. I didn’t see how repeatedly landing on my back was going to teach me anything, any more than I understood why I couldn’t seem to land on my feet on a ten-foot drop. It’s as if the universe wanted me in as much pain as possible.

When I’d climbed onto the heavy branch overlooking the (hopefully cleared) levitation area, I took a deep breath. Yes, the sun-dappled grass looked soft from here. Without a doubt, I knew it wasn’t. But that was beside the point. I wasn’t supposed to be landing.

I needed to float.

And as desperately as I wanted to have that happen, a little voice in the back of my head said, Ha .

I’d had a hard time believing in what I couldn’t see before I came into the magical world. Now? Well, I was about to flop onto my back again.

Rachmort stood below, hands in the pockets of his striped slacks. He gave me his full attention, as if the climb itself meant something.

I should believe. He sure did.

I stood for a moment as a warm breeze rustled the leaves around me. It’s not as if I hadn’t seen plenty that surprised me in the last two months. Between enchanted hotel rooms, grumpy fairies and biker witches hurling Lose Your Key spells at obnoxious drunks at the bar, I’d had my fair share of weirdness.

In fact, I could hear the Red Skulls working on the wards. Hammering, shouts and occasional explosions sounded from the front lawn.

“Look to the outside, Lizzie.” Rachmort stood with his hands on his hips, the double-decker gold spectacles on his head glinting in the afternoon sun. “Don’t overthink it.”