Devdan Manor (6 page)

If only Cyl could burn out Ozais’ tongue and seal his mouth shut. That would be a waste of power.

Cyl could have a blade at his shoulder and never know it. What if some clawed six-legged demon sat behind him waiting to dive its arm-length teeth into his flesh? At least humans had the luxury of not knowing how debased some demons appeared. Cyl had once ran into a seven-foot demon with mouths on his chest and shoulders filled with teeth shaped like sharpened bones. It talked out of all its mouths.

Most humans didn’t know a demon’s true power. He did.

These trapped demons could hurt, not kill them. He should take comfort in that. He didn’t. His school had taken a trip to a prison. Teachers made them watch demons get tortured. Cyl would rather die than have Ryse, Uryl and Nuall suffer through that.

Uryl strapped his bag in front of his chest and turned his back to Ryse. She shouldered her own bag and climbed on his back. Uryl stood.

“Shields up. Keep your lights on. Stay close. We can’t see in this damn darkness. If you get separated, you should pray those demons find you before I do.”

They packed their bags and stood.

“Ozais,” Uryl said. “You can sense the demons. I know you’re here to see how long we last, but you should help us. Are there any in this room?”

Ozais brushed his pants off moving as though his bones were made of steel. He crawled to his feet then stood. He stretched his arms over his head.

“We’re surrounded. I sense about twenty. More are waiting outside.”

“Ryse,” Uryl said. “We need books. If you can hear them, tell us and lead us.”

“Where are we going?” Nuall asked.

“Down. Demons like to work in the basement.”

Ozais snorted. “Do you really believe the demons who created this would leave spells prisoners can undo?”

Uryl sneered. “I doubt the demons who created this intended to trap four beings like us.”

Ozais tipped his head.

They stepped out of the circle. Nothing happened. As expected. These demons would play with them until they got bored then, they would attack. For now, they were just being haunted.

They walked out of the bedroom and into a theatre. They stood at the top looking down at rows of red wooden seats leading to an old stage. The marks were carved into the ceiling. The arrangement of the words were more purposeful here. They created a shape. Cyl couldn’t see enough of the ceiling to tell what the shape was. It could be art. The fixtures weren’t pointed here. The chandelier were made of a blue clear crystal he had never seen before. The light those things cast must’ve been striking. An ornate rusted banister led the way down the stairs. At the center of the room, the ceiling became a circular fanned arch.

“Perfect,” Ozais whispered. “Time for more entertainment.”

The stage had holes in the floor where time had eaten through. The thick curtains were blackened as though burned. Dozens of old ropes hung from the ceiling. This theatre must’ve been spectacular.

The seat beside him folded down as though someone was sitting in it. The creaking wood was loud in the silence. More creaks followed as each seat around them folded down, and stayed down.

“How many?” Nuall asked.

“I’m not the only one fascinated by the newcomers,” Ozais sang.

“Perfect,” Uryl grumbled.

Cyl stood behind Uryl to protect Ryse.

The audience clapped and cheered.

“Trapped demons,” a raspy voice boomed from the stage. The audience went quiet. “The Ancient Ones have not walked this world in centuries.” A blinding light shone on the four of them. “Somehow, we have their direct off-spring in our presence.”

The crowded awed. The lights went out.

“In our world, power is everything. Our kings and queens weren’t given that title because of blood. They were more powerful than anyone. So why are these four children trapped in a house that punishes all abominations? They reek of neglect. They aren’t revered. These babies have become our toys.”

The crowd cheered.

“Do we need to hear the end of this speech?” Nuall whispered.

“Do you think they’ll let us leave?” Uryl answered. “We might find some answers”

“What happens after that?” Nuall snapped through gritted teeth. “They are not telling us this story because they’re being sweet.”

“What are we supposed to do?” Uryl grumbled.

“Be quiet.” The voice hissed from the stage.

Uryl snorted. He turned and walked up the stairs. The floor shook. The banister rattled. The steps moved from under Uryl. He threw his arm out, gripping the banister and pushing himself away.

Ryse jumped off his back. Uryl fell forward. The floor stopped shaking.

“It’s rude to leave before the play has ended.”

“Saine doesn’t like to be interrupt,” Ozais muttered. “They should agitate him some more. I could convince them to leave or push them out.”

If Ozais tried that, Cyl would kill him.

Uryl got to his feet. Ryse wrapped her arms around Cyl’s thighs.

“You know children,” the voice was so deep the room rumbled. “The house does not care why you committed the atrocity. It doesn’t care that I was forced to help two families summon and trap a powerful demon so the females could mount it.”

Nuall whistled. “A bored demon with a grudge. Perfect.”

“More than one,” the voice answered. “The Antun and the Otavs needed much power to summon that demon.”

Cyl turned to Ozais.

“You could have warned us half the demons here hate our family.”

Ozais shrugged. “Why would I? This is much more fun. Besides, it is true your families took sport in trapping powerful demons. I never knew them to summon Ancient Ones.”

Ozais could’ve let that useful bit of information out through all his mumbling.

‘What is this house?” Nuall snapped.

“Excellent question.” The voice said. “Centuries ago, a group of demons created this house. We still don’t know why or when. It goes after any demons it believes sullied our world.”

“Then why isn’t every demon in here,” Nuall mumbled.

She needed to learn to keep her mouth shut. She didn’t need to pick up Ozais’ habit.

Black mold erupted on stage. It devoured the curtains. It crawled out the ceiling—rotting anything it touched. The rusted banister dropped to a pile of ash. Cyl pulled back from the balcony banister. Pieces of it dropped into the seat below. Black dust from the aging chandeliers rained down on them.

“Time to go.” Uryl backed away.

Cyl picked up Ryse and followed.

The floor dropped from under Nuall. She fell. She managed to slow her decent. She landed without making more holes.

“There’s another way out,” she called.

Burned holes opened in the seats and stairs. Cyl didn’t trust them.

He jumped through the hole Nuall fell through. Uryl and Ozais followed.

They raced from the theatre into what looked like an enclosed courtyard. The door slammed behind them. Cyl needed to see. He opened the door. Instead of a dying theatre, thick fog and a forest full of dark twisted trees spread out before them. Shadows bloomed like tall weeds. Each shaped like a demon—the ones that couldn’t pass as human. Some stood as tall as the trees. Other were no taller than his knee. They dominated this dark forest. White fog weaved between them. The trees’ twisted limbs swayed. They reached for the shadows. One appeared before Cyl. Too close. Tortured faces and arms reached through the shadowy body. Trapped souls. The mouths hung open in agony. The eye sockets were curled with glee.

Cyl slammed the door closed.

“Damn, I hate this house,” he said.

Ozais howled with laughter.

“That was fun.”

Ryse slipped out of Cyl’s arms. She started drawing her circle. Uryl and Nuall walked around chanting while drawing symbols in the air.

Cyl still didn’t have enough control over this power to create such complex spells. If they all came from Ancient demons, why was he having a harder time controlling his power?

These thoughts weren’t any help. He was never good at protective spells. His powers was more suited for killing demons—whether or not they had a physical form.

They gathered in Ryse’s circle.

“Wondering around is not going to work,” Uryl said. “What do we know about moving rooms around?”

“The demon has to be here,” Cyl responded.

The demon needed to merge with the house to manipulate it. This means the monsters who created this abomination were here.

“That’s not possible,” Ozais said.

His eyes stretched. He allowed too much space between words.

Nuall sipped her water. “Where do you think they are? Ozais has been here seven-hundred years and he didn’t know. Demons that live in the walls haven’t found them.”

“That’s because they aren’t here,” Ozais snapped. “They wouldn’t be stupid enough to live here.”

“Ryse, please explain.” Uryl said.

“She’s a dumb child. Why would I listen to her?”

“Because she’s read every book in the Mortaus central library.”

Ozais’ mouth fell open. “That’s impossible.”

Mortaus history went back farther than most books. It had always been the center of the demon world.

Cyl tipped his head. “Yet, she did it.”

Ozais stood. Why did he look at them as though they were strangers or beings that only existed in stories? He had been with them for hours.

“What are you?”

Ozais’ dark eyes widened. He pressed his lips together. He was afraid of them.

Nuall sucked her teeth. “I have some questions I need to ask Mom and Dad.”

Cyl should’ve seen that coming. She had silver hair and gold eyes. No one in her family had those features. While living with the Otav’s, Cyl had been subjected to centuries worth of family portraits. No one had been born with silver hair.

Cyl had ignored his odd appearance because he resembled Uryl and Ryse. The three of them looked alike. Their sibling took after Mom and Dad more than they did. They had to have Antun blood in them or the family mark wouldn’t have appeared.

They’d figure that out once they escaped this trap. Tortured had been a part of their education. Cyl couldn’t wait to use it on Mom and Dad. Maybe he’d torture Nuall’s parents too. No. Nuall would kill him. Still, it was nice to dream.

“You need to stop whatever you’re thinking. The face you’re making is disgusting.”

Leave it to Nuall to destroy a good mood.

Ozias hadn’t sat down. They needed him. He’d be useless if he was afraid of them.

Ozais paced.

“I should’ve known. No protection spell is this perfect.”

Nuall shot to her feet and gripped his shirt.

“Shouldn’t you be happy we are so unique? That means, if you stick with us, you’ll have a chance of getting out of here.”

Ozias slapped Nuall’s hand away. Cyl jumped between them before Nuall decided to make him calm down.

“Step out of the circle and I’ll kill you both,” Uryl said as he opened one of Ryse’s books.

Cyl sat. He ruffled Ryse’s hair. The book was old. The librarians wouldn’t have let it leave the building.

“Did you steal that?”

She smiled showing off her sharp teeth. “It was going to waste rotting in that underground tomb.”

It wasn’t a tomb. Ryse liked to call it that because it was where good books went to die.

Ozias sat at the end of the circle. “How many abilities do you have?” he asked Uryl.

“At least ten,” Nuall answered instead.

Uryl stretched his eyes. Nuall managed to surprise him. No one surprised Uryl.

Nuall waved her hand. “I’ve been watching you since we started this journey. I figured you were like Cyl only you have better control over your power. Why haven’t you trained him?”

Uryl shrugged. “I tried.” He flipped through the book. “We were probably born from the same Ancient demon only Cyl’s power is more violent than mine. Things didn’t turn out well when he tried to control it too much.”

“Sounds like Nuall,” Cyl mumbled.

Nuall slapped his back. “Glad you remember that.”

“What are you searching for?” Cyl asked Uryl.

“Fortunately, Ryse packed the books with the most illustrations. I’m seeing if I can find any advice on how to deal with this house. It would be more helpful if those markings were in here.”

Cyl dug out the other book from Ryse’s bag. This one weighted more than she did and was about half her height. His sister was insane.

“If we only knew the demons’ name,’ Uryl said. “Then we could summon them.”

The demons probably owned this house. Wait. The portraits.

“What’s your problem?” Nuall snapped.

Why where they looking up at him? He stood without realizing it.

“In that arched tunnel that lead to the lounge, there were portraits on the wall. Could those be the demons who live here?’