Mortal Danger

THIRTY-ONE

AFTER her first sleep in hell, Lily had woken up hungry. Very hungry.

Gan had woken up female.

The demon was less upset at having exchanged one set of genitals for another than at the prospect of suffering periodic bouts of unconsciousness. It—she—had shrugged and said fucking was fucking, and while cocks were great, didn’t human females have multiple orgasms? And could Lily tell her how that worked?

Lily had slept twice more since then, each time waking with a terrible craving for ymu. Each time, Gan slept when she did and woke complaining. For each of her sleeps, Rule had slept four or five times. How many days did that make? She didn’t know; she’d stopped thinking in those terms. But the light had faded three times now, dissolving slowly into darkness as if someone had the sky on a dimmer switch.

When it did, the dragons sang. And she and Rule sat together and listened. Those were the best times she’d known, when it was just her, Rule, the gathering darkness, and the unearthly beauty of dragonsong.

The light was beginning to fade again, and she was watching from her favorite spot, a flat rock that stuck out over the water. From here she had a view of the open ocean outside their inlet. An illusory freedom, maybe. But it soothed her.

Gan was with her, digging idly in the sand next to the rock. Rule wasn’t.

She glanced overhead. It wouldn’t be dark for some time. The dimming took a while. But she was worried. “The dragons haven’t assembled yet for their song.”

“Bunch of noise,” Gan muttered.

The demon seemed to have no sense of what music was, much less any appreciation for it. It… she… had casually mentioned after the last dragonsong that the dragons put a lot of stock in their noisemaking. They called their leaders the Singers.

It was the first Lily had heard that the dragons had leaders. They didn’t have anything as formal as a government, a king, or a council, but apparently these Singers had enough authority to negotiate pacts with their demonic neighbors. Gan hadn’t known much more than that, though.

She looked at the other end of beach, at the grasses that marked the entrance to their cave. Worry put a pleat in her brow. Rule was in the tunnels again. He hated them. She’d seen him emerge shaking, but he kept going back.

“What?” she said distractedly. She hadn’t heard half the demon’s chatter.

“I asked what you think you’re going to do with your stick. Poke a dragon, maybe? That’ll scare them.”

“Maybe.” She went back to sharpening her spear, fashioned from the femur of a very large animal. Not much of a weapon, but it was all she had. “Or maybe I’ll just poke rude little demons with it.”

“No, you won’t. You’d feel guilty.” Gan looked smug. “Humans feel guilty about hurting things.”

“Some do. Some don’t.”

“Well, you would. You’re that kind. Besides, you like me.”

Lily looked up, amused. “I do?”

“Sure. You won’t let the wolf hurt me. He may have stopped trying to kill me, but he still wants to hurt me.”

Lily’s smile fell away. Twice since her last sleep she’d had to stop Rule from attacking the demon. Gan reveled in baiting him, true, but Rule had been able to ignore the demon’s taunts before.

Something had changed, and it worried her.

“And it’s not that you’re afraid I won’t feed you. I’d have to do that no matter how pissed I was, because I can’t let you die. Besides,” she added, “The dragon told me to keep feeding you. You know that. So you stopped the wolf because you like me.”

“And you like me, too, of course.”

“I’m a demon! I don’t…” She frowned. “No, of course I don’t. I’ve never liked anyone. It’s like eating dead things. Demons don’t do that.”

“Demons don’t sleep, either.”

Gan scowled.

She shouldn’t tease Gan. She might have to ask her for a favor. Lily looked down the beach again. This was Rule’s first excursion without the splint. Over her objections, he’d chewed off the bindings after waking from his last sleep. And he’d been gone a long time, longer than usual.

She couldn’t go looking for him. It was dead dark in those cramped passages, and she couldn’t find her way by scent the way he did. The demon’s sense of smell wasn’t that keen, either, but Gan had an unerring sense of direction, or so she claimed. If Rule didn’t show up soon, she’d have to bargain with Gan to…

A dark shape limped out of the cave. Her breath gusted out in relief.

The demon flung her piece of bone away. “It’s boring here. I can’t believe how long it’s taking Xitil to finish off her guest.”

“Maybe she already has. Would you know?”

“No, but they would.” She waved up at the sky, where two of the smaller dragons circled—their guards and occasional waiters, making their breathtaking dives to drop food on the beach.

Living food. Gan ate hers that way. Rule chased and killed his.

She wished she could remember eating. She remembered all sorts of food—ice cream and rice, fried chicken and pickles. But she had no memory of how those things tasted.

“Have they been talking to you?” Lily asked. “They won’t mindspeak me.” Sam did, when he visited. He was curious about how Earth had changed in the years since his kind left. He and Rule had traded questions.

That is, they had at first. Not so much now. She looked at the dark, four-legged figure headed toward them.

“No,” Gan said, “but things would be happening if Xitil had finished her fight. They wouldn’t… hey, look who’s here. Fur-face. Find any good escape routes lately?”

Rule didn’t even look at the demon before jumping up on the rock to settle beside Lily. She breathed a sigh of relief. He was controlling himself. “You’re limping.”

He couldn’t shrug, of course, but gave his shoulders a roll that had the same meaning.

He’d obviously understood her. Maybe she’d been imagining things. “Gan thinks it won’t be long before Xitil finishes her battle with the goddess.”

Rule gave the demon a glance and growled.

“What?” Gan snapped. “Think in words when you growl, stupid, or I don’t get any meaning.”

Rule yawned, showing how little he thought of the demon’s opinion, then gave a few yips.

Gan snorted. “Dumb question. Xitil wouldn’t eat a goddess.”

Lily frowned. “But the goddess isn’t really here, right? Xitil’s fighting Her avatar.”

“That’s almost the same thing. Eating an avatar would be worse than eating a human. She’d go nuts.”

Lily nodded. Demons ate almost anything except humans. By eating the flesh they consumed something of the person, and they couldn’t absorb a human’s substance properly. Gan thought it was the soul that drove them mad, but she was just guessing. Demons no more knew what a soul was than humans did.

But demons could drink human blood. It was the usual route to possession, as well as a potent delicacy or drug. And they wanted Lily’s. The blood of a sensitive had some sort of special power here in hell.

Lily had questioned Gan enough to have some idea of what happened to her back on Earth. Gan had knocked her out and brought her to hell to sample her blood because it was more potent here. But then it had returned her to Earth. Blood alone wasn’t enough to get past a sensitive’s natural defenses. The demon had needed the goddess’s help to finish the business. Lily wasn’t clear about the details, but the goddess had invested some of Her power in a staff, and someone on Earth had used it to help Gan possess her. It had almost worked.

Rule growled a question at the demon.

Gan rolled her eyes. “I’ve told you and told you. I don’t know why the goddess wanted me to possess Lily. You think we sat down and chatted about Her plans over tea?”

“You’re still convinced that we’re part of a deal between the dragons and Xitil, though,” Lily said. “Sam keeps dodging that question.”

“He hasn’t denied it. And he could.” Gan sighed wistfully. “Because he can lie and all. But what else would he want us for? Well, he doesn’t really want us, but he needs me to feed you. I’m the only one who can do that, because of our bond.” She smiled, pleased with her own importance. “And so far the wolf hasn’t pissed him off enough to get himself killed, I guess.”

“Why not admit it, though?” Lily asked. “Sam doesn’t have anything to lose.”

Rule growled something.

“What did he say?”

Gan shrugged. “I dunno.”

“Gan—”

“I don’t know! He doesn’t trust the dragon. That’s all I picked up.”

Forehead furrowed, she stroked Rule’s head. Maybe Gan was just getting tired of translating and was pretending not to understand. “What do you think?” she asked him softly. Understand me. Please, please, understand me. “Will Sam hand us over to Xitil?”

He looked at her with what she could swear was puzzlement. But then his eyes cleared and he yipped.

“He said there’s a lot of demons,” Gan said. “Not many dragons.”

“Their position is precarious, you mean.”

He nodded.

Okay. It was okay. He’d understood and responded. “What we really need to know is why my blood would be so valuable to Xitil.” They’d asked Gan about that several times. The demon insisted she didn’t know why the blood of a sensitive was important, just that it was. “What am I? One heck of a good bonbon, or does my blood have a practical value?”

“You’re more than a treat,” Gan assured her. “You don’t have to worry about that. No one will kill you because then you wouldn’t make more blood. But Sam can’t be planning to keep you. The others will hear about you, and sooner or later they’ll try to grab you so Xitil doesn’t get you. The dragons won’t want that kind of trouble.”

Lily was startled. “Are you talking about fighting? War?”

“No, no. Wars are for grabbing territory and giving the nobles a chance to gobble up the other guy’s fighters. No one wants war with the dragons because they don’t just eat, they kill, so the princes aren’t going to… hey, look!” She jumped to her feet. “Mealtime!”

Lily looked up. One of their guards was diving at the beach the way they did when they delivered food, but its talons were empty. “That’s no food run. Maybe they’re playing tag. The second one’s chasing the first one. Or is—what?”

Rule had pushed her, hard, with his nose. He whined and shoved at her again, urgently.

He thought they were being attacked. Her pulse rate jumped. Maybe the dragon diving at them was relieving the boredom of guard duty by playing scare-the-human. But if he wasn’t…

They needed to get under something, quick. She jumped down. So did Rule.

No way could they make it to the cave. She sprinted for the cliff, Rule racing alongside her, Gan huffing a few paces behind. The dragons couldn’t grab them from above if they were up against that wall of rock. She flattened her back against it, her heart pounding, her mouth dry, her brain silly with fear. She didn’t want to look.

Stupid, she jeered at herself. Think you can close your eyes and the bad dragon will go away ? She made herself look up and caught a glimpse of scarlet near the head of the pursuing dragon. There was only one of their guards with a frill that color, the same crimson as Sam’s.

It was smaller than the one it chased, she realized. Younger?

Then the two collided.

Her breath caught. This was no game, but battle, real and bloody. The two grappled in mid-air, a confusion of flapping wings, snaky necks, and lashing tails. She couldn’t see what was happening, who was winning. Then one broke away—the one who’d pursued, she realized, spotting the scarlet frill. Its wings worked desperately to carry it higher—for one wing was damaged. And pursuer had become pursued.

The smaller one tried to dodge, but its attacker caught up with it, seizing one great wing and shredding it viciously. The injured dragon fought free, but it was clumsy now, lumbering through the air. Its attacker closed again.

Slowly at first, then faster, the injured dragon fell, the long body tumbling, tangling with wings that no longer caught air. She caught glimpses of that scarlet frill as it plummeted. Her stomach clenched sickly. It hit up the beach near their cave, and she felt the impact in the soles of her feet.

The winner circled once, then dove again. Toward them.

“Oh, shit,” she whispered. Maybe she’d poke a dragon with her big stick, after all.

“There’s another one!” Gan piped. “Coming from behind the mountains!”

She squinted, trying to make out details. The sky had darkened enough that it was hard to see the dragons clearly against it, but— “It’s Sam!”

Then the high, black shape folded his wings tight to his body and dropped, stooping like a giant hawk after a lesser bird. Aimed like an arrow at the dragon who had just killed.

It must have seen or sensed him, for it twisted, beating its wings frantically—but too late. Seconds later, Sam struck.

Dragons didn’t all die silently. This one screamed as its back broke, a bass howl that ended in a great splay of blood as Sam slashed its throat open, both of them still dropping.

That body had little distance to fall. While Sam’s wings beat hard, fighting to keep him from finishing his plummet, his victim made a huge splash some twenty feet from shore.

Go, that cool mental voice said as his wings prevailed and Sam began to climb. Don’t gawk. Get to the caves your lupus has been so determinedly exploring.

“What’s happening?” Lily cried.

The others will be here shortly, in case their tool failed. As it did. Satisfaction coated that thought. I do not tolerate betrayal.

Rule shoved at Lily. She staggered a few steps, then stopped. “What others? Why are they coming here?”

Sam was still climbing, but slowly, circling his way up. The Singers. The fools dispute my possession of you. They come to kill you.

“No!” Gan cried. “They can’t kill her! That would be stupid! They need her!”

They have finally understood the folly of allowing a sensitive to fall into Xitil’s hands. There will be no more negotiations.

“But the Singers—you were holding me for them!” Lily said. “They’re your leaders—”

Not my leaders. I took you and held you because I wished to. They wished to believe it was on their behalf. I allowed this until I learned that they planned to kill you without asking my permission. Go now.

Rule shoved her, hard. She gave in and started down the beach at a trot, but called, “What changed? Why do the demons want my blood?”

You will ask questions of Death itself when it stoops for you! Remain underground until I summon you. It may be many sleeps before it is safe to emerge. The Singers will abandon their pique with me soon enough and cease challenging my possession of you. Xitil is coming. She has eaten god-flesh and is quite mad.

“Oh, no,” Gan whispered. “Oh no, oh no, oh no…”

Mad or not, Sam’s chill thoughts continued, growing distant as he rose, she has too much power now to easily defeat. The others will need me.

Who are you ? Lily thought, stopping at the mouth of the cave in spite of the insistent press of Rule’s body. She knew that once inside, the dragon’s mindspeech would be cut off by the earth. What are you ? Not a Singer…

Not one of the little Singers, he agreed, the mental voice faint. A Great Singer. Perhaps the last of the Great Singers…