Inner Demons Page 4

  “What was…” Jack met my gaze, his mouth wide open. “How did you…”

  “I’m a Cardkeeper, Jack. You probably don’t know what that means, but I’m willing to show you. If you come with me, and if you accept the responsibility, power like that could be yours. But right now, in this exact moment, we have to get going. Do you understand me?”

  Hesitating, Jack lowered his eyes to the broken shards of wood on the floor. There was an expression of understanding on his face as he thought long and hard about whether to abandon his mission. What he said next gave me hope. “If I come with you, can I return?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “And if I don’t want this job that you speak of?”

  “Then you don’t have to take it.” But I hope you do.

  “How long will it take?”

  “Not long. You can shower, too.”

  Jack looked offended, pinching the rags from his chest and taking a sniff. The way he knocked his head back made it seem as if he had only just learned of his own rancid scent. “All right, Keira. Lead the way.”

  Finally. The lucky break I’d been hoping for. Not only had I found Jack – or some street rat-looking version of him – but he was willing to come with me. All I had to do now was get him to the Vault and convince him to take the role.

  Without hesitation, I grabbed his black, dirty hand and led him back to the window. Link was there waiting for us, looking nothing less than confused when I presented him with a scruffy, bearded prisoner. Nonetheless, they greeted each other warmly, and then Link carried Jack down to the ground. He returned soon after, carrying me with him.

  My luck held when I spotted Harry Cusack still sitting in his boat. When I climbed back on board with an extra man at my side, a look of utter confusion riddled his expression. Scratching his head, he then shrugged and roared the boat’s engine back to life.

  We sped back toward dry land, leaving the demon prison far behind us. If Jack ever returned, that was on him. I wanted nothing to do with demons, prisons, or anything else associated with either one. As soon as I finished training my old friend, that would be it for me. No more magic, no more battles, and definitely no more danger.

  It would just be Jack Hannigan, the new Cardkeeper of Chicago.

  If only he would accept.

  Chapter Eight

  Showing the Vault to anyone was usually hard work. The human mind struggled to comprehend the simple fact that a portal had been constructed out of thin air. Even Jack, who was standing in the stock room at the back of the dusty old VHS store and watching me don a robe from the rail, struggled to believe it was happening.

  “You need to put on a robe,” I told him.

  “I’m fine, thanks.”

  “No… You need to put on a robe. The Elders… Dalton,” I corrected. I was so used to referring to them as a collective, even though nearly two years had passed since Dalton’s brothers had died protecting the Vault. Now only he remained. “Dalton will take it as a sign of disrespect if you don’t. House policy.”

  Jack nodded, grinning. “I’ll take my chances in this magic tower of yours.”

  Somehow, I just didn’t get the sense that he believed me about the Vault. Clearly, infiltrating a demon prison and making a display of my telekinesis wasn’t enough to convince him. That was why I took great pleasure in punching a hole in the air, and then dragging my fingers in a wide arc to burn a portal from here to the mountains.

  Jack reared back, raising his arms to shield his eyes from the searing light. I felt his attention turn toward me, but I simply looked straight ahead and walked through the portal. When I emerged on the footpath that led up to the Vault – a slim tower that touched the clouds – I reached a hand back in to call Jack through.

  “Does it hurt?” he asked.

  “Not a bit. Come on.”

  Reluctantly, Jack stepped through, wrapping his arms around his torso as the bitter winds brushed his bare skin. I guessed he kind of deserved to be cold – if only he had bothered to put on a robe, he might have had some shelter from the nipping breeze. Luckily for him, we would soon be warm inside the Vault.

  Link slipped through the portal next, and as I sealed it shut, he took off up the path to open the door for us. Jack and I hurried onward. I wouldn’t let him stop to appreciate the majestic view of the mountains – more important things waited for us inside.

  After our journey up the spiraling staircase, we exited into the hallway where the large double doors to the Grand Hall were guarded by a man wearing a dark robe. The moment he saw me, he shoved open the door, bowed, and then stepped aside.

  “Royalty around here, are you Poe?”

  I smiled. “Not exactly.”

  “Then why is it that you – Whoa.”

  The grandeur of the hall stole Jack’s attention. It was easy to feel miniscule in such a large room, and it was even easier to see that he felt that way as he took a few paces forward, barely acknowledging the great embers that burned in the center.

  Dalton stood beside it, and when he noticed that I’d returned with company, he stepped away from the flames to introduce himself.

  “I am Dalton of R’hen,” he said politely, taking a bow. “Welcome to the Vault of Chicago. Lady Keira, see to it that Mr. Hannigan receives adequate training in the use of magicards, and then show him to his living quarters.”

  Jack stared up at the marble pillars, fascinated, but distracted.

  “I think he’s still adjusting,” I whispered to Dalton. “I’ll take care of it.”

  “Indeed.”

  Dalton left via the doors we’d entered, with Link following him to give Jack and me some space. As soon as the doors closed, I crossed the hall to the fire pit and summoned Jack to my side. The warm flames felt like heaven against my skin. It made me sad – made me think of when all this would be over. “Jack, my role here as a Cardkeeper means that I must defend the city with the use of weapons known as magicards. Each card holds a certain ability and will grant you the power it contains inside. The only thing is, you have to be careful, for overuse will have repercussions.”

  Jack frowned. “What kind of repercussions?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Well, I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Very well.”

  I took the time to explain the downside of the magicards. Each time I told him something new about them, Jack seemed less and less interested in using them. By the time I had finished teaching him, he looked mortified.

  “If that’s the cost, I don’t want to use them,” he said.

  “You don’t have to use them. But believe me, it… Hey.”

  Jack had his back to me now, striding toward the weapon rack on the far wall. Ignoring me, he unsheathed a large, silver sword and swung it in a wide arc around him. His feet danced as he lunged, piercing the air while the blade whistled, spinning in circles and attacking his imaginary foe. Gripping the hilt tight, he finally acknowledged me, and then smiled, lowering the weapon. “I would much rather use something like this.”

  “It looks like you know what you’re doing with it.”

  “Oh, I’ve had some practice.”

  I watched him feed the blade back into its sheath before unlatching it from the rack and slipping the strap over his shoulder. I couldn’t deny it; he looked more than comfortable with the sword hanging off his back, and if he fought with it as competently as he paraded around with it, maybe I had chosen wisely.

  When Jack came back to the fire pit, he glared down into the depths and sighed. “So, let’s say I take this job of yours. What will you do then? I mean, there must be a reason you’re giving it up, no?”

  “Thirty years is our cycle. In thirty years time, you will have to seek your own successor, as he will his, and so on. Before then, however, you’ll have increased strength, speed, reflexes and energy. You’ll have a home here in the Vault, and access to any weapons or food if needed. But I really would suggest you consider using a magicard.”
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  “Meh. Maybe someday.”

  “Maybe…” I nodded slowly. If only I’d known he would be so stubborn, I… well, I would still have chosen him as my own successor, but I would have done so with a little more reluctance. “As long as you know, it might be difficult to slay vampires with that. They tend to gang up on you. Not much room to swing a sword, if you know what I mean.”

  Jack’s eyes lit up then, as he turned to me with traces of excitement in his eyes. “Vampires? I get to kill vampires?”

  “Oh, for sure. Vampires, werewol…” Not werewolves. Those days are gone. “Gargoyles, mages. In fact, mages are our main enemies. Sometimes they create their own spells and use them against humanity, in which case it will be your job to track them down and trap them inside vacant magicards.”

  “That’s awesome.”

  “It’s really not,” I insisted. “It’s dangerous, and it’s damn hard work.”

  “If you say so.”

  “Trust me, it is.” I took a deep breath, blew it out and stretched my legs by pacing around the fire. “So, do you think this is something you could do? It’s a full-time responsibility, which means it will require your undivided attention.”

  Jack watched me pace, but then lowered his eyes and shrugged. “I don’t know, Keira. I still have the demons to deal with, and I wonder how much time I’ll have to do that when I’m out fighting vampires and such.”

  “You can’t let that go, huh?”

  “Neither would you.”

  I got the sense that there was something he wasn’t telling me, but it was nothing I couldn’t press out of him, I was sure. “What happened?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Actually, it does. Perhaps I could help you with it.”

  Jack’s eyes met mine. “You would do that?”

  “If you tell me what it is, sure.”

  An uncomfortable silence ensued, during which Jack also began to pace. He turned his back to me, looking out at the great darkness toward the back of the Grand Hall. “As you know, I used to do a few jobs for Death. Occasionally this meant that I would piss someone off, and in the case of the Demon King Zorin, that was true.”

  “You hurt him?”

  “Not him, but one of his minions. Apparently he took it as an offense and then saw fit to hunt me down. Only I always worked on the move, so I never exactly had a home. It made me difficult to locate, and being the evil son of a bitch he was, he…”

  I knew what was coming. Demons were all the same; when they couldn’t attack you, they attacked the heart. Yet, I remained silent, listening to his story.

  “It was my sister. He killed Kelly, and for that, he is going to die.”

  I remembered Kelly. When we were kids we used to play together out on the street. I’d actually known her before I’d even met Jack. She, in fact, was the one who had introduced us in the first place. Time had pulled us apart, so I felt very little for Kelly’s passing, but the pain on Jack’s face tugged at my heartstrings, and for him I had unrestrained sympathy.

  “All right,” I said. “How about this: I’ll help you track down Zorin and slay him. After that, this job is yours for the taking.”

  Jack spun around, facing me now with a look of surprise. “You would really do that?”

  “Of course. But promise me you’ll take this job seriously.”

  “I will; I promise.”

  “Good.” I felt an enormous weight shift from my shoulders. A cloistering, clawing boulder of dread that had been there for thirty years, and soon I would have time to breathe. I didn’t know much about this Demon King, but I did know that he would put up a fight. After that… well, I supposed there was always going to be an ending for me.

  Jack stormed around the fire, taking me into his arms. “Thank you, Keira.”

  “Yeah…” This is uncomfortable. “You can thank me after a shower.”

  “Right.” He laughed. “Anything else?”

  “I guess a shave wouldn’t kill you either.”

  Chapter Nine

  When Jack emerged from the spa room – an entire floor devoted to the upkeep of the physical body – it was like I was looking at an entirely different person. The rags had been replaced with a plain white shirt and a clean black jacket. His hair had been cut and styled; though still long and black, it was neater now. Even his beard had been trimmed and finely combed. He had somehow transformed from a dirty prisoner to a handsome gentleman.

  “What’s up?” he asked as he entered the room and flicked up the collar of his jacket.

  I must have been staring.

  “Nothing. It’s just quite a change, is all.”

  “It sure feels better.”

  “I bet. You look a lot less…”

  Jack crooked an eyebrow. “Like a hobo?”

  “Exactly.”

  We exchanged humored grins. It was as though the tension had been stripped from him as the in-Vault monks had taken care of his damp and sweaty locks of hair. There was something to be said about the feel of clean clothes even on a normal day, but after so much time as a demon’s captive, I could only imagine how good it felt.

  “Where’s Link?” he finally asked.

  “Oh, I sent him home.”

  “Shame. I kinda like that guy.”

  “As do I. Come on.”

  I showed Jack to the strategy room, where Dalton sat on a stool on the outside of the door. When we approached, he slowly wobbled to his feet and tightened his hood. “Lady Keira, I have prepared the information you asked for. You will find it on the table inside.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Dalton nodded, and then turned his attention to Jack. “Well, you sure cleaned up well, didn’t you? But where is your robe, boy?”

  Jack opened his mouth to respond, but I jumped in quickly to divert a conflict. “I didn’t want Jack to dirty the robe with his bad scent. Next time he comes in here, I’ll be sure to make him put one on.” I put a hand on Jack’s arm, edging him inside as I spoke over my shoulder to Dalton. “Thanks again.”

  I closed the door before Jack could contradict me, heading to the long table in front of me. It was funny; only a few hours ago I had come in here practically begging for Jack’s location. But now here he was, in the flesh, leaning over my shoulder to study the map. It had been a long and exhausting day, and I was really starting to feel it. I was just desperate to get this ugly business over with before I collapsed.

  “Dalton kindly prepared this for us,” I said, pulling out one of the sheets of paper and sliding it across the table. It was a slick move that silently encouraged Jack to sit and read it. He did so without comment, and then I continued. “The demon you spoke of…”

  “Zorin.”

  “Right. Well, you were looking in the wrong place.”

  “What?”

  “Exactly. The demon’s minions – or whoever else chooses – need to summon him in order to bring him into a physical form. It seems like after he murdered your sister, he returned to the underworld. Obviously, this makes him difficult to reach.”

  “Okay… so how do we get to him?”

  “Read what I gave you.”

  Jack looked at the papyrus in front of him. Wrinkles appeared on his forehead as he frowned, reading the words in the skewed, multi-colored text they had been scribed in. When he was finally done, he looked up from the page and maintained the same expression, only now he was glaring at me. “Imps?”

  “Imps,” I said, and closed the book in front of me. Brushing my hair behind my shoulders, I made my way around the table and made for the door. “Looks like we have a stop to make. Don’t forget your sword.”

  There was very little complaint from Jack as we left the Vault, and even less so as we walked down the eight city blocks to the imps’ hideout. I sensed that he was impressed to have seen how quickly we’d pulled the information together. If he brought it up, I would be sure to tell him that the Vault was full of useful resources like that. I imagined that relevant
information would help sway him even more into joining our cause.

  The imps ran a law firm in South Austin. Of course, it wasn’t a real law firm. They seemed to have taken a leaf out of our book, and used an unappealing place of business to hide behind. We reached the correct building safely – in spite of Jack hauling a large sword around in public – and entered without taking too much caution. We didn’t expect any danger from this place, so there was no need for aggression.

  Wrong again.

  The bell jingled as we entered a small, brown office. There wasn’t much light to go around, and even less furniture. To my left were two small chairs in a makeshift waiting area with a desk straight across from us. At the desk sat an elderly man who barely looked up from his ledger. I approached casually, putting on a kind smile as I spoke.

  “Hey there,” I said.

  The old man finally looked up, but there was something peculiar about his movement. His skin was taut and stiff, with robotic movements. I couldn’t quite pinpoint exactly what was wrong with it, but it just didn’t seem… genuine.

  Because it wasn’t.

  “You can relax,” I told him, leaning on the desk. “I know you’re an imp. Drop the veil and let me see your true self, because we need to talk.”

  A thin trail of smoke seeped from the man’s collar as his expressionless eyes stayed fixed on me. Suddenly his dirty brown jacket became flimsy, like the man inside was melting away. In fact, he was melting away, shrinking and sizzling until only his real form was left seated in the chair, gazing up at me with huge eyes that took up most of the space in his head.

  “Better,” I said to the imp, vaguely aware of Jack gasping behind me. “Now, I’m looking for some information on the Demon King. Anything you can tell me would be useful – anything at all.”

  The imp looked terrified. At only two feet tall, with pale blue skin and clumps of hair sprouting from his naked chest, he quivered with fear. Staring up at me, those large round eyes burned like hot coals as he assessed me. He saw only a threat. When he spoke, I heard the voice of a young boy. It was sweet, and made me feel a little mean for scaring the poor thing. Too bad I didn’t have any choice.