Chapter Twelve

TWELVE

Sally

"I figured they'd call you in on this."

Sally smiled at the phone as she hurried across the velvety green expanse of grass in the corner of Hyde Park, heading for the men's toilet block. "You have learned exceptionally quick, Sasha. How are things going there?"

"Fine and dandy. The stable cat had another litter of kittens, and that makes two in two years, so I'm going to take her in to have her fixed. One of the kittens has orange stripes." Sasha, the current Sovereign of the Court, had what Sally thought of as maxed-out eccentricity trait. She was quirky beyond quirky, although Sally had to admit that it was one of her charms.

"I've always enjoyed people who march to the beat of their own drummer," she said aloud.

"Me, too. Drummers are always so sexy. And they have good rhythm. So, you just called to tell me you're going to breach one of the most revered tenets of the Court?"

"Well, of course, darlin'!" Sally saw in the distance two familiar figures heading toward the area that contained the toilets. "You didn't think I was going to spring Desislav the Destroyer without telling you."

"It goes against everything the Court stands for," Sasha said, somewhat muffled as if she was rubbing an orange-striped kitten on her face. "It violates at least three Court dictates that I can think of."

"I can think of six, but that doesn't really matter, does it?" Sally hurried toward the low building just visible through a clump of trees and shrubs.

"I suppose not," Sasha answered, sounding somewhat thoughtful. "Not that I could stop you if I wanted, but I do feel obligated as current Sovereign to remind you that by freeing a man deemed so evil by his own fellow princes of Abaddon they banished him to the Akasha, you may well be releasing an apocalypse upon the mortal world."

"They've faced worse," Sally replied, then was forced by curiosity to ask, "You don't think you could stop me?"

"Nope."

She thought about that for a moment, then smiled at nothing. "I must remember to tell Terrin. He will be so pleased."

"Really?" Sasha asked.

"Of course. He is the most powerful of the two of us. I was always just the showy one. He much preferred to stay in the background and manipulate things to give people the best chance at succeeding."

"That's why I asked him to continue what he was doing—unofficially, to avoid red tape," Sasha said, murmuring softly to what Sally imagined was the mama cat as she gave back the kitten. "He's been busy taking care of a revolt amongst the mages. The magister people thought we could help, so Terrin decided to tackle the problem."

"I never found mages revolting," Sally mused. "It's their shoes, I think. They always look so expensive."

The silence that resulted from that statement told her Sasha clearly didn't follow her logic, but she didn't have the time to explain her personal philosophy regarding shoes and the nature of the human spirit. "I see May and her handsome dragon, and I believe the demon Effrijim is just ahead of her, so I must leap into action. Do you have anything you wish for me to pass along to them?"

Sasha gave a hint of a chuckle. "Other than my hope they aren't releasing death upon the mortal and immortal worlds? No. I'm sure you'll do what is necessary."

"Me?" Sally was pleased with the level of disbelief she managed to squeeze into one word. "I'm only there to get them to Desislav."

"I have always admired your ability to stick your fingers into things and not be seen doing so."

"Darlin'!" Sally said, pleased with the flattery. "Someone has been studying Court records for the last few hundred years."

"It's like having a master class in constructive deception," Sasha agreed. "I'd wish you good luck with your endeavor, but we both know how little luck has to do with anything you set your mind to. So instead, I'll simply say, later, tater."

Sally paused for a moment to send a text to Terrin.

ME

Sasha says you are doing covert work amongst the mages. We both know you harbor nothing but distrust for them. I distinctly remember you ranting in the early eighteenth century about how they need to be monitored lest they run amok. I am shocked at you agreeing to sort them out now.

TERRIN

She also says you are going to spring Desislav the Destroyer from the Lake of Upside-Down Sinners. Of the two of us, which one is doing something shocking?

ME

Love you, too. Smooches!

She tucked her phone away before lifting her hand in response when the demon Jim popped out of the bathroom to stare at her in what she imagined was a chastising manner.

"Heya," the demon said to her. "Wow. You really got into that Barbie movie, didn't you? I don't think I've seen anyone dressed head to toe in that shade of pink."

She paused to do a little spin. "Thank you. It's my new favorite power suit."

"I don't think people call them—never mind," Jim said, then followed when Sally picked her way around to a small clearing behind the men's toilet. The group of people who stood there turned confused expressions on her. "Hello, everyone. Are we all here? Those of us going into almost certain death, destruction, and possible perpetual torment?"

May looked horrified, while Gabriel's lips twitched. She smiled to herself at that. He was far more astute than was first obvious. The Guardian Aisling also didn't look fooled by her lighthearted banter.

"Yup, we're all here. This is Mabel. I don't think you've met her." Aisling introduced a young redhead.

"A reaper? How pleasant. I had lunch a few months ago with the head of your order," Sally told the woman, who stood looking very uncomfortable. She wondered why, but decided that mystery would have to wait.

"And this is Parisi," Aisling said, gesturing toward the tall, dark-haired woman who was clad in metal breastplate beautifully etched with fantastical figures. She also wore a chain skirt that hung down to her knees, black leggings, and a bum bag bearing a psychedelic peace sign. A massive sword was strapped to her back, along with a bow, and what looked very much like a small beheading axe. "Er ... I'm not sure if you know her or not."

Parisi, who had been staring intently into the shrubberies, turned to face Sally.

She felt the impact of that look, and the irrelevant part of her mind—which admittedly claimed most of the available space—noted that Parisi held a form of power that was both unfamiliar and almost overwhelming. Immediately, she made a low formal bow, the sort that she hadn't made since she had first met Terrin. "My Sovereign, it is a pleasure to meet you."

Parisi studied her for a moment, then smiled. "You are with the Court. Welcome, fellow defender. You should be of great help when dealing with the prisoner."

"That's why I get paid the big money," Sally answered, then beamed at the rest of the company.

"Are we going soon? I don't want to sound like a parrot with only one phrase, but I really do have responsibilities I must attend to this afternoon." While Mabel the reaper spoke, Sally had a momentary sense of dark power. She gave her a good stare before catching Jim doing the same.

It really was a very astute demon at times. Not often, she told herself as she gave it a swift pat on the head, but there were times when it clearly saw things that the others didn't.

"Is there anything we can do out here?" The Beloved named Allie made an aborted gesture. "Both Christian and I are frustrated that we can't be of help in the Akasha. Maybe we could find a way to get him in there? He's absolutely deadly with a sword."

"Is he?" Parisi turned to examine the Dark One.

He also bowed to her, no doubt sensing the power wrapped around Parisi. "A two-handed sword has long been my weapon of choice."

"I like you," Parisi told him. "You have sound weapon preferences. Are we ready to enter the Hour?"

"We will be as soon as—ah, there she is."

"Jenna!" Allie exclaimed as the Weaver Sally had ordered hurried around the side of the toilet block. "What ... I'm not sure I understand what is going on. Are you going to try to portal your way into the Hour?"

"Jenna, what a pleasure to see you again. Let me introduce you." Aisling ran through the introductions of Parisi and Mabel before turning to Sally. "You can't portal into the Akasha, can you? At least ... no one ever told me it was possible."

"Oh, it's not," Jenna told them all with a bright smile. "Imagine the Weaver abuse that would go on should we be able to zap people out of the impossible-to-leave Akasha."

"Jim's left it," Aisling said with obvious pride.

"Yup," the demon answered. "Got the Hashmallim to let me out."

Everyone but Sally stared at the demon in astonishment. She had a faint memory of a report Terrin had written stating that he'd finally dealt with Titania, who had been unjustly banished by the cheating Oberon, but that he'd had to involve a demon to pull it off. Her respect for what she termed her better half—she'd never made any bones about the fact that he was definitely the more valuable of the two of them—went up another notch.

"That's ... how did you do that?" Jenna asked.

"Sang ‘My Humps' to them for a couple of days straight," Jim admitted with a twist of its lips. "Almost went mad doing it, but I had a fairy who wanted revenge on her ex, so I had to do what I had to do. Are we going in? Because it's almost dinnertime, and my coat goes to Abaddon in a basket if I don't eat in a timely manner."

"Right, remember how I told you that you are not to bother people with trivial talk? This is a perfect example of that. So stick to answering questions, or offering information if it can help. Yes. It's an official order. Speaking of that, do I need to give anyone temporary demon lord powers over Jim? I talked to Nora a few minutes ago, and she wasn't sure if Jim would be OK in the Hour if it didn't have someone who could directly give it orders."

"It's not like it's Abaddon," Jim said with a roll of its eyes.

"It should be fine so far as I know, but I'm happy to take charge of it for you, if you would like," Sally said, smiling at the demon.

It backed up a step.

"I think I'll pass if it's not necessary," Aisling said, her eyes big as her gaze skittered away from Sally. "But I'm still confused about how you're getting into the Hour if Jenna isn't going to open a portal."

"We're going to blip," Jenna answered, then turned to face the back of the toilet block. She shook out her hands, and lowered her head to focus. Sally felt another prickle of static on her arms, but this feeling was different. It lacked the punch of dread that was bound to dark power. "I just need to charge up for a minute."

"What's a blip?" Sally heard Allie ask Christian.

"I'd like to know the answer to that, as well," Gabriel replied. The others nodded.

Jenna ignored them while she gathered power, so Sally figured she'd better do the explanation. "Jenna is a unique Weaver in that she can not only open a portal to a different location and time—she can also blip, which I believe is her word for translocating short distances."

"Translocating?" Aisling's brows furrowed. "Isn't that the same thing as opening up a portal for us?"

"No. Jenna's blips can only go a short distance. But they work through obstacles such as walls." Sally glanced at Jenna, who was humming softly to herself. The sense of drawing in the air, of static electricity pulled from around them, made her feel as if she were standing in a lightning storm.

"But ... how does that help ... oh." Aisling blinked a couple of times.

"Wow," May said at the same time.

"What am I missing?" Mabel asked, glancing around the group. "I don't need a blip to take Parisi to the Hour. All she has to do is request it of me, and I can take her there."

"I believe the idea is that Jenna can use her abilities to transport Jim and Sally directly into the Hour," Gabriel explained.

Sally nodded. "Like I said, Jenna can blip short distances. Right through walls of buildings. Or in this case, the barrier that separates the Hour from the mortal world. That should get demon Jim and me inside, while Mabel takes Parisi in through more conventional methods."

"OK, that's impressive," Aisling said.

"And handy," Allie agreed. "I wish the vamps could do something like that."

Christian gave her a long-suffering look before wrapping an arm around her waist.

"OK, I'm ready. We have to do this quickly, because the structure of the Hour barrier is fluctuating every half minute or so, which means I lose it."

Jim looked at Parisi. "I think we're a go now."

"Hmm?" Parisi seemed to be daydreaming and blinked a few times before saying, "Ah, just so. Reaper, it is my request that you take me to the Thirteenth Hour. Preferably close to where the others are located."

"One entrance to the worst place in the underworld coming up," Mabel said cheerfully, and holding her moonstone pendant, she winked at Jim before the two of them disappeared into nothing.

Jenna gave a nod, her gaze still on the back of the toilet block. "And now it's our turn. If everyone would snuggle up next to me, I'll count to three; then you'll hopefully blip in."

"You're not going with them?" Aisling asked Jenna as Jim and Sally scooted close to her. The Weaver stood with her head bowed and her arms outstretched, palms facing the building.

"Can't." Jenna's gaze remained fixed on the wall before her. "No Weavers allowed unless cursed there. Ready?"

Sally put one hand on Jim's collar, the other on Jenna's arm, and braced herself for the translocation.

There was a moment's feeling of all her atoms separating, then slamming back together in a manner that left her momentarily without breath.

Jim staggered forward, directly into a figure that resolved itself into Mabel, who collapsed. Sally was relieved to see both women, although she noted that even Parisi took two steps forward before she stumbled and went down to her knees.

Around them, a heavy silence fell. "It's almost sticky," Sally said without thinking, glancing around.

"What ... holy shitsnacks, I feel like I slammed into a freight train. ... What feels sticky? And why has this guiding affected me like this? I've never been touched by the underworld before," Mabel asked as she got to a sitting position, weaving slightly.

"I was talking about the silence. As for your discomfort, it's most likely the security built into the Hour perimeter. I believe I shall sit down for a moment to gather myself. The Carrie Fay Academy of Shiny Hair and Uplifted Tatas has strong things to say about cavorting around without being gathered." She sat on a smooth reddish-brown rock bench and took stock of the situation.

"It would appear we're in some sort of prison. I guess that makes sense, although I wouldn't think it was necessary, given the protection woven into the Hour itself," Mabel said, dragging herself over to plop down on a stone stair.

"It looks like a crypt to me," Jim said, wobbling for a few steps. "Smells like one, too."

Sally took a few discreet sniffs. "I can smell nothing but damp, although I agree the general vibe given off is that of abandoned, haunted crypt. One with large spiders, velociraptors, and giant chupacabras."

Parisi had made it over to one of the walls, and Sally realized that what she'd thought of as an antechamber or a small reception room was actually the landing of a stairway that led downward, into the dank, damp earth. The doorways were suitably Gothic in their arches, while occasional wall alcoves held dismally burning torches, from which an acrid gray smoke emitted, curling its way to a ceiling so high, it was a vague haze above them.

Despite the low level of light, Sally realized that what she had first thought were mildew stains on the stone were actually some form of writing. She rose and moved to Parisi's side, her eyes narrowing on the stone wall facing them. "I am not familiar with this language," she said absently.

"It is Sibli," Parisi said, her gaze scanning the wall. "Used many millennia ago by the protomages, and spelled with prohibitions. These symbols here, though, are different."

Sally studied them. "I do not remember Sibli, but a few of the runes look familiar."

"Sibli is an ancient language," Parisi said, trailing a finger along the carved stone as she moved down the wall toward the sunken stairs. "It was old when I was young."

"When was that?" Jim asked, coming over to look at the wall. It didn't look impressed.

Parisi gave it a little smile. "Well before you, demon."

"Well, yeah. I mean, you are my mom," Jim answered.

Sally wasn't at all surprised when Parisi did not acknowledge the statement. She had an air about her that warned she had been in the Beyond for many hundreds of years, and thus had probably lost touch with her life in the mortal world. "These runes are about four thousand years old, I believe. It looks to me like it's a prophecy."

"It is," Parisi said, dusting her hand on her hip before starting toward the stairs. "One that warns that violation of this Hour will result in the breaking of the Otherworld. Shall we proceed? Much as I am enjoying my time in your reality, I cannot be away from my home for long lest Don Diego get it into his head that he leads the other defenders in their daily fitness."

Jim and Mabel looked at Sally. "Should we be worried about potentially breaking the entire Otherworld?" Mabel asked.

"I'm not," Sally answered. "I don't see why you should want to do so, but you do you. And yes, it's probably best we get moving before the Hashmallim figure out where we are. Let me see. ... If I remember the map Terrin had of the Hour, the lake should be down the stairs in a subcellar."

Sally made a few mental notes about their trip through the maze that made up the Thirteenth Hour. Although she remembered Terrin's map, it had been fairly bare of details, so it took her a few tries before they emerged into a cavern filled with blackness and the gentle plop of wetness dripping to the floor.

"Jim, I believe it's time to bring out those things I gave you to carry," Sally said, her hands on her hips as she studied the unmoving black water. She had to admit that just looking at it gave her an uneasy feeling, and for a moment, she considered tapping into the joint power that she and Terrin shared, but gave a headshake at that temptation.

"Gotcha." Jim shimmied out of the Hello Kitty backpack it wore, and opened it before spilling out the contents on the dirt floor.

"Light first, I think," Sally said, handing four camping lanterns to Mabel. "If you could place them along the shore. I have waterproof headlamps for those of you going into the water."

"You're not coming with us?" Jim asked her, its brows furrowed.

"I can't. I shouldn't be here to begin with, but I couldn't resist seeing Desislav again. You'll have to do the heavy lifting, I'm afraid. There are waterproof headlamps for both of you. Oh yes, the orange air canisters are really mini breathing devices. I got them in the Seychelles. Really quite handy things to have. You just pop that end into your mouth, and you'll have ten minutes of air."

"Why didn't I think to have Aisling get me a wet suit when she got Parisi hers?" Jim asked as it snuffled the breathing tube. Parisi quickly stripped down to her skivvies before donning a black-and-yellow wet suit. "My coat is going to dry all funky, I just know it."

"I have about an hour left. I hate to hurry you, but ..." Mabel let her sentence trail off, and moved back to the stairs to wait.

Sally showed Parisi how to use the breathing device, then turned to Jim. She strapped onto him first a headlamp, then the breathing device before turning on the flow of air. It bobbed its head a few times in an indication it could breathe before it followed Parisi into the inky water.

"That water really does not look right," Sally murmured to herself as the pair disappeared under the water, the plume of Jim's tail the last thing she saw.

"How is water not right?" Mabel asked, looking up from her phone.

"It's ... just wrong. But so fitting with the place, don't you think? Whoever designed it deserves an award." Sally looked around with approval for whoever was in charge of the Hour's appearance. "I mean, if you're going to make a place of ultimate suffering inside a place known for its endless torment, you're going to need it to be something special. And this is definitely out of the norm."

Mabel stared at her in obvious horror. "Are you insane? This is the hellish hell version of the ultimate hell, and you admire the decor?"

"Of course. Even evil needs recognition." Sally smiled at the reaper, but Mabel continued to look horrified and scooted a bit farther away.

Sally sighed to herself and made a mental note to tell Terrin about the latest drama with the dragons. She had a feeling he would be more than a little peeved with her, but she always found that to be one of his charms, and settled in to wait for the submariners to return.