Devdan Manor (5 page)

Nuall growled. Uryl gripped the back of her shirt and hauled her back. Cyl grabbed Ryse’s hand and moved closer to the door.

“How about we start with a name?” Uryl said. “Yours.”

Leave it to Uryl to think ahead. They knew now they couldn’t trust this monster. Still, they needed him. Cyl would never let anything touch his sister. Nuall would gut any male who looked at her wrong.

“Ozias Grey. Feels nice to say my name out loud.”

“How long have you been trapped?”

“King Nazar had just died.”

Nuall stopped fighting Uryl’s grip. “King Nazar? That was over seven-hundred years ago.”

Ozais cocked his head. “Only seven-hundred years. Felt longer. Your names.”

Uryl eyed each of them and nodded.

“Cyl Antun.”

“Uryl and Ryse Antun”

Uryl usually spoke for Ryse when strangers were involved.

“Nuall Otav.”

Ozais rubbed his chin. “They smell powerful. They will give us a good show.” He said under his breath. Ozais pointed to Uryl. “Roll up your sleeve,” he commanded in an unnecessarily loud voice.

Uryl didn’t move. He was not someone to be ordered around.

“Please.” Ozais said it as though it caused him pain.

Uryl rolled up his sleeve.

“Antun is an old family. Only famous for their mark. Yours is different than any I came across. You.” He pointed to Cyl. “Let me see your mark.”

Cyl folded his arms.

Ozais sighed. “I am tired of placating your pride. We’ll get nowhere if you make me show respect at every turn.”

Uryl tipped his head. Cyl rolled up his sleeve.

“Interesting. Otav is an old family too. I’d have thought they have died out by now. They were a prideful bunch who were known for marrying their siblings.”

Nuall jabbed her finger at him. “Do not sully my family name.”

“What reason would I have to lie?”

Good point.

“It is odd,” Ryse said. “You talk like we do.”

Another valid point. Cyl had spent hours struggling through text written hundreds of years ago. He didn’t know how his ancestors understood each other.

“The demons trapped here can talk to each other. I wanted to communicate with others who were imprisoned after I was, but we couldn’t understand each other. So, I listened and practiced. All the demons trapped here now talk in the same manner.”

The door creaked. A doll with glowing white skin walked in. Its porcelain head was shaped like a skeleton. The eyes had been picked out. The mouth carved open. A golden light showed through the holes in its face. The brown hair piled high on top of its head was too neat for such a distasteful thing. The arms and legs were the same length. It fixed them with those eerie eyes. The legs jerked forward. It moved like the body was new and it still didn’t know how to control it. It dropped on all fours. The body was a table with eyes. The head rotated at a painfully slow pace. It walked as though each movement caused it considerable pain.

“Starting small, clever,” Ozais mumbled.

Ryse jumped in front of them. She drew symbols in the air with her hand. The doll screamed. Cyl felt the sound everywhere. It dominated his senses. The room shook. The floor moved from under his feet.

The doll vanished into silver dust. Everything went quiet.

Cyl got to his feet. He wasn’t the only one.

Ozais clapped his hands. The sound was louder than Cyl needed it to be.

“You might last longer than the others.”

“What is going on?” Nuall asked.

At least she found her voice. Cyl was still trying to wrap his mind around that doll. Demons possessed objects to scare humans. He had never been on the receiving end of a haunting. He didn’t care for it.

“This house has trapped many demons here. After centuries of roaming these halls without bodies, they’ve grown bored. When the house brings in new prisoners, they torture the new demons as entertainment.”

“Is there a way out of here?” Uryl asked.

Ozais huffed. “Of course not.” He pointed to the walls. “The wards keep you here. Even if you survived the void outside, you would fall forever. Right now, demons are taking bets on how you’re going to die. Starvation or suicide. The demons here can haunt you, hurt you. They aren’t strong enough to kill you.”

Ozais shouldn’t sound so happy about this. His jovial, playful, tone was far more unnerving than the doll. He could at least pretend to be somber.

“This is annoying.” Nuall bowed her head in her heads. “What do we do now?”

They turned to Uryl. He sighed.

“I doubt this house has given us anything we can use. If there is a way to get out, Ozais would know about it. First, we should get a handle on our battle field and see if we can determine what those symbols means.”

Leave it to Uryl.

Ozais clapped his hands again. “I like you. Demons are not accustomed to being haunted. Most go into a panic when they learn they’re trapped in a house full of demons who want to torment them. Others became enraged. They waste their power and strength trying to demolish the house. Why aren’t you afraid?”

Cyl shrugged. “We aren’t going to be stuck here. I will find some way to, at least, free Ryse.”

Ozais jabbed his finger at them. “That’s what makes you different. Most demons were trapped here alone or with others they didn’t know well. I don’t believe we’ve ever had a group of siblings and good friends.”

Nuall rubbed her chin. “Interesting. The house relies on fear and isolation to break down the prisoners. That’s clever.”

“Good. They aren’t as dim as they look,” Ozais murmured. “Strange, pretty demons are usually stupid.”

Nuall rolled her shoulders and turned her back to Ozais. Cyl shrugged. He heard that insult before.

Uryl dug into his bag, drew out a pen and handed it to Ryse.

“Draw a protective circle. A big one. When she’s done, we’ll empty our bags to take stock of what we have.”

“Checking supplies, a boring move,” Ozais muttered.

Ryse drew. The house screamed, cackled and moaned. The room quaked. The bed screeched across the room. Ryse swore more than Cyl would’ve liked. She wasn’t used to drawing on moving floors and kept making mistakes.

The noise stopped. The only sound was Ryse’s pen skating across the wood. She stopped.

“Keep drawing,” Uryl snapped.

Ryse went back to work.

Hundreds of faces appeared around them- treating the walls like rubber. The shapes were skeletal with eyes and mouths of odd shapes. They showed anger, fear, desperation, hunger, glee. The faces were everywhere— even under their feet.

“How many demons did this house eat?” Cyl asked.

Ozais shrugged as he played with his nails.

“Why did the spicy Antun think I would answer that?” Ozais grumbled.

Spicy?

Faces swam under Cyl’s feet, pushed against the floor. Only, the wood felt solid. It didn’t feel like a pool of dead faces.

Nuall walked to the center of the room. She laced her fingers together, bowed her head and chanted. Her words came out too low and too fast for Cyl to understand. The faces retreated.

Nuall stopped chanting. Ryse finished the circle.

“You cannot be older than fifty,” Ozais said. His face lost all glee. He appeared annoyed and concerned. “What sort of life did you live to be so well versed in protection and dispelling rituals.”

Cyl had no intention of answering that.

Nuall dropped her hands. She locked Ozais with hard eyes. “What makes you think we would answer that?”

Most of the time, Nuall acted like a spoiled child. When she became serious or when someone scraped her nerves, she took on a demeanor that could command armies. She didn’t show this side of herself often because her family assaulted her with words whenever she decided to command the room.

Nuall winced. She dropped her shoulders and vacated the middle of the room.

“Antun and Otav were not power demons. Why is this generation so impressive?” Ozais folded his arms and frowned. “Could it be due to the Ancient blood inside you?”

“Before we continue this conversation,” Uryl said, placing his bag in the middle of Ryse’s circle. “Empty your bags.”

“What do you mean by Ancient blood?” Cyl asked as he sat beside Nuall, placing his bag in front of him.

Ozais didn’t join them on the floor.

A scraping sound.

It came from the hall.

A foot stomped. The floor groaned.

A high-pitched shriek accompanied it as the scraping object attacked the wood.

Another stomp.

It approached the room.

The sound of a heavy object being pushed across a wood floor. From the footsteps, the demons had to be at least seven feet and made of bricks.

The wood floor didn’t like supporting it or whatever it was pushing. The sound moved closer.

Cyl couldn’t smell the demon. He couldn’t sense its intent. According to everything but his ears, the hallway was empty. How did humans live like this?

“We need to do this quickly before they figure out a way around Nuall and Ryse’s spells,” Uryl said placing his bottles of water beside his clothes.

Cyl had anticipated being on the road for days while other demons refused him help. He had packed more food and supplies than clothing. The others had packed with the same idea. Although Nuall lived in wealth, she never cared about clothing. She dressed the way her family wanted. When she was relaxed, she dressed like a beggar or a low-ranked demon. Another thing her family chastised her about.

The heavy object and the stomping stopped outside the room. The door crashed open, flying from the wall. It slammed into the barrier. The door hung in mid-air. The barrier attacked. The door turned to wood chips.

The hall was empty.

They waited. Only silence. He couldn’t sense anything.

This was getting old.

“That was a little over-dramatic,” Ozais muttered.

Nuall elbowed Cyl then jerked her head in Ozais’ direction. She no longer needed her family to make her feel ashamed of her behavior. She wouldn’t talk for a while.

“About this Ancient blood.” Cyl said.

Ozais nodded. A hint of the jovial version peeked through his frown.

“When I was a part of this world, I spent a great deal of time traveling to uncharted areas to collect rare items. I often stumbled upon the resting places of Ancient Ones. They went into hiding for reasons they wouldn’t tell me. They enjoyed their new life of resting and no responsibility. I know their blood and you four have a lot of it in you.”

“How can you smell us? We can’t sense anything,” Uryl asked.

“You will. Your senses aren’t gone. They’ve been reduced to a level you are not used to. Be here long enough and your senses will return. They’ll never be as strong as you’re used to.” Ozais pushed off the wall and sat inside the circle. “I don’t understand how your family would’ve come into contact with them. The Ancient Ones didn’t like being bothered. They would never allow anyone to touch them. They had no desire to breed anymore.”

They lined up the food and supplies. They could stay alive in here for about a month. Cyl didn’t expect to be here that long. Did this house have running water? A bathroom? They needed to find out. Sleeping may be an issue. The demons here would never let them rest. At least not long enough to regain their strength.

They ate some dry meat and bread and drank water. Ryse wasn’t hungry yet. Even Ozais tasted some of their food.

“These new demons have so little pride in themselves that they try to emulate humans. Their food, thankfully, has not suffered from their weakness,” Ozais whispered.

Still not as bad as his first offense. Cyl ignored Ozais. Nuall didn’t even look up from her food.

“How did you get your body back when the others seem unable to?” Cyl asked Ozais.

“Our bodies are here. In that dark place outside. If we can dive into it without having our souls destroyed, we can get our bodies back. We need a body to break through the house. In the past, some demons have gotten their bodies back but still couldn’t leave. Eventually, they abandoned their physical form. In the solid form, you need to eat, sleep and release waste. In that form, you become the target for bored demons.”

“Will we encounter demons in their physical form?” Uryl asked.

“Most don’t. You four might drive the demons to make an appearance,” Ozais said with more excitement than necessary.

Nuall rolled her eyes. “Fantastic,” she said dryly.

Uryl examined the hall. “We need to leave the barrier. I’m worried what will happen when we do. We cannot sense attacks or demons approaching. We could be surrounded.”

Uryl was never known for being comforting.

“Who will attack first?” Ozais muttered. “Rome likes his games and he’s even smarter than the mute child. Nur, she’s faster and likes the sight of blood. She should be first. How long would she take to make them scream? It’s been ages since I heard a good scream.”