"Like a bulldozer."
"What"s that?"
"Okay, like a small building. A tall, small building. With arms and teeth."
He smiled. "When it"s time I"m sure you"ll be up to the task." "Wish I had your confidence about it."
"You will."
"Hah?"
"Remember where you are. Desire for something can make it occur."
"Really?" News to me.
"Your desires will affect the objects and beings already here, or rather there. When we get to the Gate you"ll see. The demons do it all the time, but not for anything pleasant. They"re not very smart. Cunning, but not smart."
"Why didn"t Terrin tell me that?"
Anton shrugged. "He might not have known. You two aren"t from around here are you?"
"You could say that and then some."
"Ah. Likely used to different rules. They change from world to world, you know."
He was spooking me. Seemed to know a lot more than he should. I wanted to find out just how much, but had to focus on the current situation. "How do I do this?"
"Just think of what you want, but it has to be based in this side. You won"t materialize a cup of tea, because that"s not here."
"Work with what"s at hand?"
"Yes."
"Why haven"t you done any of that to get out?"
"Because I"m in the wrong body, and escaping is a bit more complex. That"s why Botello couldn"t escape. Well, here"s the Gate. Gird up."
On the Other Side of the Gate "Looks like Botello"s run afoul of the chaps here," said Cadmus.
Behind the questionable cover of a tree, he and Filima watched some rather tense proceedings going on close to the great Gate. A hair-raising and stomach-churning collection of terrifically ugly creatures-demons-were gathered there, the lot of them focused on the interplay between one of their own and Botello. He was presently engulfed in the grasp of that creature, his legs dangling some ten feet from the ground. He appeared to be doing a lot of fast talking.
"He does seem to be in trouble," agreed Filima. Terrin, lying on his back next to her and apparently asleep or pa.s.sed out, offered no comment. They were only yards from the empty riverbed, but the s.p.a.ce in between was crowded with demons. To get to it, they would have to backtrack a goodly distance, which was not practical at the moment.
"Hope they don"t hurt him. For Lord Anton"s sake," she added.
"It doesn"t look good. They seem none too pleased. I just wish those b.u.g.g.e.rs would shift themselves."
Cadmus nodded toward the ones blocking the way to the gully.
As though reading his mind, the demons began to move closer to the Gate, clearing a path.
"I say, that"s luck. Let"s go while we can. Keep low and quiet." He hoisted Terrin over his shoulder, and they hurried across the open ground.
Botello struggled hard to breathe normally, difficult to do while being held so tight. Maybe he should have taken his chances and stayed close to Filima. He"d removed Cadmus as a threat, and the odd-looking short fellow wasn"t strong enough to swat flies. Filima might have proved useful as an offering or at least as an indication of Botello"s intent to honor his agreement with the overlords.
"I tell you again, I have brought sacrifices to you," he wheezed. "They are back near where you found me."
"The Gate," said the overlord. "Open it."
"I can"t without them." There, a flat lie, but it might buy him time to think of something better.
"Then bring back the river."
"Free me. I can"t do anything like this."
"You will escape."
"How can I? I don"t know how I got free before."
"Lie," stated the demon.
Botello cried out as a blast of heat washed through him. Not the merely uncomfortable warmth of a summer day, but a real fire roasting his every nerve. His cry rose and extended into a prolonged scream until he ran out of air. He twitched and trembled, trying to struggle away from the agony, then it left him as suddenly as it had come. Panting, he saw his flesh was unseared. If that had been an illusion of pain what would it be like if they began torturing him in earnest?
Best not to find out.
"No lies," the demon said. "Open the Gate or bring back the river."
"All right." He was too weary and frightened to think. Just agree and hope to find an opportunity to . . . and there it was. Staring down past the demon Botello spotted them making their way toward the riverbed. Filima and the others. How had Cadmus recovered from a broken neck? No matter.
He pointed. "I need them. I told you I brought sacrifices."
Almost as one, the demons turned to look.
"That"s torn it," said Cadmus. "Run!" He urged Filima ahead of him. She sprinted like a deer. He strove to keep up and was only a pace behind when she scrabbled down the edge of the bank into the wide, shallow gully.
"Now what?" she asked, still moving.
"Go toward the Gate."
"They"ll cut in front of us."
"Then cross to the other side. I don"t see any of them there."
"Bad idea," mumbled Terrin unexpectedly.
"Then what do we do?" Cadmus demanded.
"Just put me down and stand back. Something heavy"s about to break."
"What"s broken?" Cadmus eased Terrin onto the dry red dust, then stood off, fidgeting, wanting to go after Filima.
He sprawled spread-eagled, laughing like a rusty gate. "Just watch."
Cadmus started to object, then speech left him. He stared around in disbelief. Filima gave a sharp gasp of surprise. She scampered back to him and grabbed his arm. That was nice.
Where Terrin"s body touched, where their feet touched, thick black fog began to ooze forth from the ground.
"Party time!" crowed Terrin.
Anton and I crouched under the Gate, peering out at the riverbed. The black fog was coming back, swirling up around Terrin, Cadmus, and Filima. Their body language was eloquent; except for Terrin, who just lay there, they were clearly alarmed. "Is that good or bad?" I asked.
"Yes," he said. "Absolutely."
Well, what did I expect from a man with his eyes closed all the time? "So what next?"
"Let"s go get my body back." He started forward. I caught him.
"Have you noticed there"s a demon convention out there?" "I believe they"ll be rather too busy for the next few minutes. Let"s take advantage of it."
He smiled and walked unafraid into the towering crowd. I followed and profoundly wished us both invisible. No way to tell if it worked or not, but the monsters did seem to have their attention focused downriver, even the one who had Botello in its hand. Claw. Whatever.
I kept close to Anton, my sword ready. Maybe my wish was working. None of them looked at us, and we got close to Botello. The demon holding him was growling.
"I told you," said Botello. "Now release me so I can finish the working."
Another growl, but it set him down. The instant he was clear he started toward the Gate.
And what a look he had on his face when he sawus .
Anton smiled. "Hallo, Botello. You have something belonging to me. Be so kind as to return it. No questions asked."
Botello, a big blond guy, briefly showed teeth, then ducked behind a demon. He was still trying to get to the Gate. Anton took off after him, leaving me flat-footed in a forest of demons. A couple of them noticed me, meaning I wasn"t invisible after all, but that was it. They and the rest began to file toward the riverbed and its rising fog. The roars and growls shaking the air were antic.i.p.atory. They were smacking their chops and making the underworld equivalent of yummy noises.
"Slow up," I whispered aloud, wishing for that to happen. Some of them heard and looked back, but kept going.
Not good, not good. I was supposed to use what was at hand, so what was here? Rocks. Lots of those.
Maybe if they formed themselves into a really high wall between the demons and the fog . . .
Chunks of red stone rolled in front of the demons, formed a line, and began stacking up so fast that they seemed to grow. More rocks rained down out of nowhere, locking themselves into place. The wall shot up, ten feet, then twenty, then fifty, blotting out a wide section of the lowering sky.
Ohhhh, man, it was soo coool.
The demons stopped and stared at it, studying the situation. I turned to check on Anton. He and Botello were in a dead heat for the gap under the Gate. Botello made a dive, but came up short. Anton landed on him, and they rolled around trading punches. That must have been pretty weird for them, each hitting his own body. Talk about abusing oneself.
Crash. Rumble.
My brilliant wall came tumbling down. Demons weren"t just pounding their way through, they seemed to be causing the stones to fly every which way. They must have been doing the wishing thing as well, and were likely a lot better and faster at it, having had more practice. I dropped to avoid some red missiles shooting my way and imagined them slamming back to whoever threw them. The rocks stopped in midair and reversed. No way to see where they hit, but bear-growls of annoyance boomed soon after.
Dust, there was plenty of that lying around. A sandstorm might slow them. The instant I thought it, itroared up, but I overdid things, and was myself caught in the blast. Half-blind, I retreated, staggering to the Gate, which was clear of the mess.
Anton was barely holding his own, his face b.l.o.o.d.y. Botello had the larger body, and didn"t seem to care what kind of damage he inflicted on his former residence. Rubbing grit from my eyes, I waded in to help, which consisted of poking Botello with my sword to get his attention.
He let out with an unhappy yelp, then squinted at me. "What are you?"
"The name"s Myhr." He could figure out for himself what it rhymed with; I was too stressed to be friendly. "You gonna swap with Anton or do I have to invent shish-kebab with you?"
He caught the intent, even if the words were confusing, and sneered. "You can"t force me out. Not without killing this body."
My guess was he hadn"t heard ofThe Exorcist , and that Anton had an ace up his sleeve. "Okay, you win, on your feet so we can leave." Another jab with the sword point convinced him to cooperate for the moment. Anton got up and twisted Botello"s arms behind him.
"You okay?" I asked.
"River," he puffed, breathless through his b.l.o.o.d.y mask.
My sandstorm was gone. Some joker had made it rain, not the cotton-candy stuff I"d encountered when I first arrived, but a harsh, blatting downpour with drops the size of marbles. They hit about as hard, too, turning the sand into muddy soup. The demons plodded easily through it, like tanks with legs.
Beyond them the h.e.l.l-river had swollen considerably.
"Is it flowing in both directions?" I wanted to know.
"Unfortunately, yes." Anton"s eyes were open now and on the haunted side. "You need to remove those creatures from our path."
"How?"
"Just imagine them over there someplace." He made a wave toward the vague distance.
"I can do that?"
"If you visualize it. Hurry!"
So I visualized all the demons a mile away in the middle of a sandstorm, encircled by a wall. d.a.m.ned if it didn"t happen.
Man, if I could do this kind of thing on the Reality plane . . .
"Move!" said Anton.
I shoved my sword into my belt and helped him push the reluctant Botello forward. There wasn"t much ground to cover, but the demons would be back quick enough once they"d figured out a thing or three. The black fog was up to our shins where we entered it. Strangely, Botello stopped struggling, was even eager to go faster. My instincts didn"t like that much, but I couldn"t think what to do about it. I was a little busy trying to come up with demon-delaying tactics, adding in a good old Texas-style twister to keep them busy. It sure made for one h.e.l.l of a roar, even in this place.
Cadmus and Filima were in the black stuff up to their waists, and I couldn"t see Terrin at all, but where he had last been the fog bounded up like a smoky fountain.