Page 2 of Demon Apathy: Sunderverse
A smile lit up Phenog’s cute face, then she giggled in delight, a little Machiavellian monster. “Leave that to me.”
2
TheQuellerwasstrappedto my back, feeling like the most terrible load anyone could have settled on my shoulders. For weeks, I’d been regretting not taking the Queller when Drevan offered it to me the day I left the League of Demon Hunters, and now it was here.
I guessed that was why they said to be careful what you wish for.
Before securing it in place, I had drawn it out of the scabbard to make sure I could wield it. The sword came out with a zing, shining in the moonlight. I held on tightly to the hilt, and it hadn’t shocked me. Though that didn’t mean anything if what the little trickster had brought me was a fake. The weapon looked identical to the one I once stole from the teachers’ lounge. The blade was silver, and a red jewel was inlaid in its intricate cross-guard. Leather covered the grip, leaving a round, polished pommel exposed. It looked the same, but what did I know? Demons couldn’t be trusted, as I well knew.
Phenog’s little hand reached out and wrapped around my fore and middle fingers and squeezed tightly.
“Ready?” she asked in the innocent voice of a child.
I wasn’t ready, not by a long shot. This could be one of those screw-ups I was well known for, but my guilt, along with the image of Drevan slumped against that wall, had convinced me to trust a demon. When this went south, I would have no one to blame but myself.
“I’m ready,” I said, straightening my spine and trying to muster my resolve.
But when a bright ring of fire appeared right above my head and started spinning like a hula hoop on steroids, I realized there wasn’t a drop of resolve to be found in my body. Where, in the past, there’d been nothing but steadfast determination, all I now found was self-doubt.
Stunned, I opened my mouth to tell Phenog that I’d changed my mind, but just as the first word came out, the ring of fire fell, spinning all around me, the heat of its flames lapping at my skin. I shrank in fear of being burned and watched in horror as the blazing curtain dropped to the ground, burning the grass with a shudder-inducing hiss.
I’m in hell!
That was the first thing that occurred to me when I found myself entirely surrounded by a scorching inferno. The little bastard had tricked me and brought me to hell.
Panic surged inside me, almost choking me.
Phenog let go of my hand and, suddenly, I found myself all alone. I would’ve whirled searching for her if not for the fear of my clothes catching on fire.
“Where are you?” I hissed. “What have you done?!”
“Shh,” a tiny sound very close to my ear. “We’re here.”
Where the hell is here?! I wanted to scream, but my heart was pounding too hard and quickly climbing into my throat to allow me to say anything.
Gradually, the wall of flames surrounding me dissipated, and I was left in the pitch dark. I didn’t know which was worse, the harshness of the fire or the impenetrability of my black surroundings.
As my eyes adjusted, I was able to distinguish a thin line of light slipping under a closed door.
Where am I? In a closet?
Whatever the case, my bet was that Drevan was on the other side. My breaths came in tremulous bursts. I still wanted to ask Phenog to take me back, but I doubted she would take me, and I had the feeling that my only way out of here was with Drevan or inside a body bag.
Taking a deep breath and holding both arms out, I stepped forward. I touched a flat surface that felt cool. I let my hands slide down, searching for some sort of door knob or latch. A second later, I found it. A latch. I froze, my fingers resting on it. Inclining my head toward the door and closing my eyes, I listened intently. I heard what appeared to be the mumble of distant voices.
“It’s safe to go,” that little voice whispered in my ear. “I will stay here and wait for you. My aura is too strong and, if I go out there, they’ll sense me.”
“Who’ll sense you?”
She ignored my question. Instead, she said, “Come back here with Drevan, and I’ll take you back to safety.”
“Who’s out there with him?” I insisted.
No answer again.
I had a feeling she didn’t want to tell me because, if she did, I would freak out, faint, or flat out die from an aneurysm. Whoever was out there was trouble.
But I couldn’t stay in here forever, so very slowly, I pulled on the latch. A small metallic creak that, to my ears, sounded like pieces of chalk scratching down a blackboard, echoed in my confined space. I winced, sure someone must’ve heard. I waited, but no one came. I exhaled a tremulous sigh of relief and gently pulled on the door. I braced myself for the whine of hinges, but gratefully there was none.
