The Stone Demon

Twenty





Donna fell.

A rush of air cold enough to make my teeth hurt.

The sound of wings.

A kaleidoscope of color circling around me like a halo.

She tried to process all these things as the world moved—or perhaps she was the one moving—and she arrived back on solid ground.

Here, at the entrance to the Otherworld, everything was blanketed by a blue-gray mist that wound around and above the jagged treetops. The smell of sulphur hit her hard, along with a spicy mixture of decay and burnt flesh.

This was no special effect. This was real.

Donna lay on the hard earth beneath twisted trees. Every muscle in her body hurt. How could she be so tired? She looked up at the few remaining dead trees that trailed jagged branches above her face. She took an experimental breath, wondering if it was still necessary to breathe in the Underworld.

“Aren’t I dead?” she wondered aloud.

“You’re not dead yet, little alchemist,” an amused voice replied.

Donna rolled onto her side, her heart pounding. “Newton?”

Newton stepped forward, still in Nav’s body, and offered her his hand. Donna didn’t hesitate, allowing him to help her up onto her feet.

She frowned. Something wasn’t right. Well, apart from the fact that she was in the Otherworld. Then she realized what it was.

“My hands hurt.” She automatically went to pull off her gloves, but realized that she wasn’t wearing them any more. “Oh.” Donna frowned, watching her tattoos glittering in the sickly yellow light. She swallowed. “What’s wrong with the sky?”

Newton shrugged. “Nothing. It’s the sun making it look like this.”

“Hell has a sun?”

“The Otherworld sun is made of iron,” he replied, as though it should be obvious.

“How can the sun be made out of iron?” Donna turned around, trying to take in her surroundings.

“The Demon King manifests a vision of Hell that he finds the most … comfortable. Demian has always been fascinated by the Aztecs. He probably stole the iron sun from them. You don’t expect demons to be original, do you?” Newton leaned toward her, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Our lord and master has always lacked imagination, you know.”

Donna shook her head. It was crazy. She was in Hell, talking to a demon walking around in the body of her best friend. She touched her stomach, for the first time remembering that she’d stabbed herself.

There was no wound. Her clothes weren’t even ripped. But she could still remember the sensation as the blade sliced through flesh.

“How can you say I’m not dead?” she demanded. “I’m not even injured. This can’t be my true body.”

Newton smiled benevolently. “You have much to learn.”

“What kind of an answer is that?”

“The only one you’re going to get.”

She glared at him. “Fine. Why are you even here?”

And then her heart sort of jumped and her gut clenched with sudden fear. Not for herself—she was way beyond being scared for herself.

“You’re really here? In Navin’s body?” Blood pounded in her ears.

Newton held his arms out on either side. “As you see.”

“You brought my best friend into Hell?! What are you doing?” She advanced on him. “How could you?”

Newton stood his ground, though his expression turned wary. It was the same look Navin got whenever Donna started talking about magic or elves or demons. “Quite easily, thank you very much. I have every right to go home. I’ve been a prisoner long enough.”

“But … what about Navin?”

“You can hit me if it would make you feel better,” Newton said.

Oh, how she wanted to. But, of course, she couldn’t hit the demon without hurting Nav.

“How did you get here?” she asked. “I thought you couldn’t get home?”

“I clicked my heels together and said—”

“Stop it! Stop acting like this is all a big joke. I just stabbed myself. I’m in Hell to find a piece of fruit. And you dragged my best friend down here with us.” She stopped, trying to calm her breathing. “Just answer the question. For once. Please?”

Newton narrowed his eyes, which looked wrong because it just wasn’t a Nav expression.

“Very well, Miss Grumpy Pants. I followed you. When you killed yourself—” He gave Donna a fierce look to stop her from interjecting. “Yes, you did kill yourself, but you’re not quite dead. Not yet.”

“So, when I … did that, what did you do?”

“I followed. It was simple because Demian was too busy watching you to notice little old me, and by stabbing yourself with the Ouroboros Blade—nice move, by the way, didn’t think you had it in you … ” He stopped speaking and raised his hand for a high five.

Donna ignored his hand and waited for him to continue explaining.

“Oh, be like that.” Newton rolled “his” eyes. “When you stabbed yourself, you opened a door to the Otherworld and pitched yourself through it. I followed. Shame you had to land us so far away from where you want to be. Top marks for entry, not so good on positioning. Know what I mean?”

“I’m getting the picture,” she said.

“There are so many more interesting places we could be right now,” he complained. “The Wailing Bridge, the Plain of Sorrows. You practically dumped us in the middle of nowhere.”

Donna glared at him. “I hardly did it on purpose. Anyway, why are you still in a human body? In Navin’s body? Shouldn’t you have turned back into … I don’t know … your true self once you came home?”

Newton glanced away, looking almost embarrassed. “Yes, well. I have to admit that I thought I’d leave this body as soon as I stepped through the door you’d opened. I did everything right. Of course, I didn’t know quite what would happen for sure, but it seemed a pretty good theory.” His expression turned mournful. “Maybe my own body is lost … ”

Donna had had enough. She picked a direction and began following the line of blasted trees, heading toward what looked like open space and walking away from Newton. He would either come with her or he wouldn’t. She secretly hoped he would follow, what with the tiny issue of him still wearing her best friend’s face, but she was just so tired. And scared.

And, now she came to think of it, pretty hungry too. Dying was hard work.

Newton immediately caught up to her and kept talking. “I thought you wanted me to explain?”

“You’re taking too long.” Donna kept walking.

He huffed slightly beside her. “This body is quite unfit, you know,” he said again.

She almost smiled, but quickly stopped herself. She would not be disloyal to Nav and laugh at any of this creep’s jokes.

“Donna,” Newton said, sounding slightly plaintive.

“What?”

“I can help you.”

“Really?” Her voice dripped sarcasm. She hoped he got the message. “Maybe you should concentrate on helping yourself, considering that you’re now stuck in Hell, in a human body that you shouldn’t even be in now that we’re supposed to be dead.”

“You’re here, aren’t you?”

“Because I’m dead.”

“Nope. You’re only a little bit dead. Doesn’t count.”

“Okay, because I used the blade?”

“Very good! That is the correct answer.”

Donna sighed, but she slowed her pace and picked her way across the stony banks of a trickling stream. The water looked like it could easily be blood, and it smelled like a dead pigeon (she knew what those smelled like because she and Navin had found one in his attic, once upon a time).

“Why would you even offer to help me? Not that I believe, for one minute, that you’ll actually do anything useful.”

“I’m insulted! I am mortally wounded. Offended. Upset.”

“Oh, please … ” Donna muttered.

“Hurt.”

Donna stopped walking and swung around. She grabbed the front of Newton-Navin’s T-shirt and pulled him toward her.

“Quit. Screwing. Around. Or, so help me, I will do everything in my power to make you regret it.”

Newton tried to twist out of her grip, but Donna just shook him until he stopped squirming.

“Oooh, you’re so strong!” he said. “You’re so masterful. Take me now! I already know you’re a good kisser.”

She glared at him some more.

“I am here to help you, you know. Consider me your own personal psychopomp. I can guide you through the domains of the Otherworld.”

Donna released him and spun away, pissed beyond all measure. She pressed the heel of her hand above her right eye and took a deep breath. She could feel a headache starting.

Please don’t tell me I’m going to be stuck with Newton for all eternity, she thought.

Now that really was her idea of Hell. And she wanted her friend back. Like, right now.

She tried to take in some of her surroundings as they walked. All around them, colors shifted and breathed into new forms; the air heated and cooled and then burned again. She walked through an ornate, gothic-styled doorway that had appeared out of nowhere—with nothing but wide open space, like a multicolored desert, on either side of it—and touched the gargoyle sitting on its crumbling post as she went by. The gargoyle’s stone head turned to watch her and blinked its eyes.

Donna gulped and kept walking.

Everything changed and yet stayed the same, but the sun in the sky was constant. Burning silver-bright, casting that strange half-light over the Otherworld. Until they came to a point in the alien landscape where her companion suddenly stopped.

“I can’t go any further with you,” Newton said.

“What? I thought you were my own personal psycho?”

“Psychopomp,” he said, looking offended.

Donna didn’t exactly want him around, but she wasn’t enthusiastic about being left alone either. At least with Newton in Navin’s body, she got to see Nav’s face—no matter how twisted the whole situation was. She was also worried that if she let the body-snatching demon out of her sight, she would lose Navin for good.

Newton grimaced. “I’ll show you why I can’t go any further, shall I?”

“Go ahead, then. Astound me,” Donna said.

Newton reached out with both hands. His palms app-eared to press against some kind of invisible barrier, like he was standing behind a pane of glass.

“You’re trapped?”

Newton nodded, downcast. “The Demon King knows I’m here. Damn it all to Hell!” He made the sign of the cross, then winked at her.

He continued to search the air in front of him with his hands, doing a good impression of one of the old-fashioned mimes that Donna sometimes saw outside Ironbridge’s Central Mall. It was surreal.

Newton punched the barrier. Hard. “You’d best go on. Demian will be waiting for you.”

He hit it again.

Donna swallowed against the sudden dryness in her throat. “Don’t keep doing that. Remember whose body you’re using.”

Newton examined his knuckles. “Good point. Oooh …

pretty bruise, wanna see?”

“No,” she snapped. She took a deep breath, scared to leave Navin behind but not really having a whole lot of choice. What was that famous Winston Churchill quote that Robert liked? “If you’re going through Hell … keep going.”

Donna figured that she’d better keep going.

She trudged up the side of the hill, trying not to think about what would happen at the top.

The higher Donna climbed, the darker it became, as though somebody with a giant eraser was rubbing out the sun. It was a strange sun, with that jaundiced light, but at least it had provided some kind of illumination on the earlier part of her journey. She stopped for a moment and rested against a jagged boulder. The mountainside was scattered with them, as though a giant’s teeth had fallen out. She tugged off her coat and left it behind, spread out on one of the rocks, then tied her hair back into a loose ponytail. Despite the receding light, she was getting hotter rather than colder. She checked the contents of her messenger bag and was surprised to see everything remained intact. Being “dead,” at least in her case, obviously didn’t mean you moved on to the next realm without your worldly possessions.

Finally, after what felt like hours, Donna staggered to the summit and walked onto a mercifully flat shelf of land. There were tufts of blackened grass sticking out at intervals, but other than that it was made up mostly of red-tinged earth. Dust gathered around her and made it difficult to see as she walked forward, slowly, taking care so as not to fall off the edge of the world.

She was so busy watching where she placed her feet that she only realized she had company when he was directly in front of her.

Demian smiled benevolently. “You made it.”

Donna pushed her damp fringe out of her eyes. “I did.”

“I am … glad.”

“Was this some kind of a test?”

His silver brows rose. “Test? No. How could it be? I did not know you planned on killing yourself.”

“Got you with that one, did I?”

“It was not something I’d predicted.” He regarded her with his coal-black eyes. “You are a surprising creature, for a human.”

Donna was too busy catching her breath to reply. She tried to look over the demon’s shoulder, but the cloud of red dust was too thick.

Demian held out his hand to her. “Come, let me show you my kingdom.”

Donna almost laughed. “A guided tour of Hell? I don’t think so, Your Majesty. I’m here to find the Grove of Thorns.”

He inclined his head. “And you need to pass through the city to reach it. Why not let me escort you? You will reach your destination unharmed—I give you my word.”

Donna nibbled her lower lip and considered his words. She had to admit that, for a demon, he did seem more honest than she’d been led to believe. Newton was all about games and trickery, but Demian was almost straightforward in his dealings. She tested his words in her mind, looking for the hidden clause that would allow him to harm her.

Demian’s hand was still extended, never once wavering.

She said, “You won’t hurt me, in any way?”

“As I keep telling you, I have no desire to cause you harm.” His eyes turned sly. “You are almost dead, anyway, so I wonder why you would worry so much.”

“I don’t want to end up all the way dead,” she replied. “Not if I can help it.”

He seemed to think about this for a moment. “If you don’t give me a reason to cause you injury, then you really have nothing to worry about.”

Donna shook her head. “And there’s the catch. How do I know what would drive you to change your motivation toward me?”

“I swear, on my kingdom, that while you are in the Otherworld with me on this occasion, I will not harm you in any way—no matter what—nor will I allow harm to come to you by way of any of my subjects. How does that sound?”

“Pretty good,” she admitted. “What about the Gallows Tree? Will you help me reach that?”

“Ah,” he said. “That I cannot do.”

“But you want the Philosopher’s Stone as much as anyone else.”

“That is undoubtedly true, but you must remember that I am forbidden to enter the grove, so I won’t be able to help you beyond escorting you there.”

Donna blew out a breath. “That’s good enough.”

He bowed, a mocking smile on his face. “I am glad the agreement meets with your approval.”

“Any advice for me?” She hadn’t expected a reply, so was surprised when he took her question seriously.

“Enter the grove alone. You’ll never find the Gallows Tree otherwise.”

Donna narrowed her eyes. “Who would I take in with me? I am alone.”

“For now,” he replied.

Nav, she thought. He’s talking about Navin. Hope gripped her heart and she tried not to hold on to it too hard.

“Will I be able to get home, afterwards?”

Demian turned away so that she could no longer see his expression. “We’ll have to see, won’t we?”

She shot him an irritated look. “You talk in riddles just to annoy me.”

His shoulders stiffened. “You are mistaken. Everything I do is not about eliciting a reaction from you. Some things simply just … are.”

She shook her head. He really wasn’t helping. She was starting to wish that Newton was still here.

Demian continued walking. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand, but that doesn’t mean—”

“I wish people would stop treating me like a child,” Donna said, interrupting him. “‘You wouldn’t understand,’ they say. ‘It’s for your own good,’ they tell me. And you’re doing exactly the same thing.”

Demian stopped suddenly, forcing Donna to stop with him. “Now you really do misunderstand me.” His head tilted to one side as he examined her. “It is true that I said that you don’t understand my ways, but I was about to say that I would like it, very much, if you learned. Just because someone doesn’t understand something, doesn’t mean they can’t gain an understanding. Given time.”

Time? Donna didn’t intend to spend any more time with Demian than she was forced to. And she certainly didn’t want to “understand” him. He was so very alien to her. Other didn’t even begin to describe the way he somehow felt when she spoke to him. Even dealing with the fey didn’t have the disconcerting sense of wrongness.

“Here,” he said.

Slowly, the mist cleared to reveal how high up they were. The Otherworld sky was now filled with crimson clouds, covering the iron sun, but a thousand lights like fallen stars glittered far below.

Donna took a tentative step toward the edge of the cliff. She looked down and gasped.