Clash of the Otherworlds: Book 3, Portal Guardians (28 page)

Spike frowned at me.

"What?"

"I told him not to doooo iiiiiit," sang Tim flying back into the room where Moriah waited.

"What?
 
Spike ... talk to me."

"Get it off," he whispered, a desperate expression moving across his face.
 
"Get it off!" he yelled.
 
"Hurry!
 
Now!
 
Gaaaahh!
 
Get it off!"

I scrambled to get to the buckle, having to bat his spasming hands out of the way before I could succeed in grabbing the leather and yanking back on it to release the metal part in the hole that was holding the thing to his body.
 
As soon as it fell away, Spike leaned against the wall, slowly sliding down to land on his butt.
 
He leaned over sideways and heaved onto the ground.

I dropped the sword to the rocky floor and knelt down at his side, touching his red and sweaty face, ignoring the grossness on the floor at his other side.
 
"Dude, what the hell happened?"

"Sick," was all he could say, wiping his mouth off with the back of his sleeve.
 
"Should've listened to the damn pixie."

I smiled.
 
"If he asks you to put that in writing and sign it in blood, would you please tell him no?"

Spike nodded weakly.
 
"Sure thing.
 
Help me up, would ya?"

I braced myself and offered my arm and shoulder as support.
 
Together we stood again and walked back into the room.
 
I bent down and grabbed the sword on the way in.

Moriah was waiting, once again leaning up against the wall.
 
Tim was as far from her as he could get, joining me at my shoulder when we got back to our former spot just out of her reach.

I dropped the sword to the ground and watched as she didn't take her eyes off it.
 
Even when I spoke, she remained focused on the weapon at my feet.
 
"So, I guess I own the sword now.
 
Or, at least we know my friend Spike here doesn't own it."

"Only an idiot tries to wear or wield a demon sword without the right."

Spike raised his hand.
 
"Put me in the idiot box.
 
I deserve it.
 
Shoulda listened to the pixie."

"Oh, my oh my, sweet music to my ears," said Tim, breathing hot breath on his nails.
 
I twisted my head around in time to see him buffing them off on his tunic.
 
"Some fae will never learn ... pixies are the superior race.
 
So under-appreciated.
 
So underestimated.
 
But one day, one day ..."

"Give it a rest, Napoleon.
 
We still need to make a deal with the devil here."

"No, we don't.
 
Just use that other source you mentioned.
 
Is it that vampire you have a crush on?"

"Shut up, I do not."

"You do not what?" asked Spike.

"Never mind.
 
Tim's talking out of his butt right now."
 
I turned my attention back to Moriah, who'd finally torn her gaze away from the sword.
 
"So ... are you going to help us or not?"

"You have the only thing I want and are not willing to give it.
 
Why should I help you?"

"To help pave the road to your next life in the Here and Now?"

She laughed.
 
"Not everyone is as anxious to get back here as you might wish."

"I'll keep that in mind," I said, backing towards the door.
 
"Okay, then.
 
I guess we'll hopefully never see you around."

I was the last one out the door, and as I was shutting it behind me, I heard Moriah call out my name.

"Blackthorne!"

"Yeah?" I asked, poking just my head back in.

"Trust no one in the Underworld, least of all my brother."

I frowned.
 
"Your brother?
 
Who the hell is that?"

She raised an eyebrow.
 
"The one you expect to be your passage-maker.
 
Garrett.
 
Am I right?"

My blood ran cold at her warning.
 
"Uhhh ... thanks for the advice.
 
I think."

"Maybe someday you can return the favor.
 
Give me a good piece of advice when I might need one."

I tried to think of the trap that she might be forming with her words, but couldn't come up with anything, so I just said, "Sure.
 
If you ever need a piece of advice and I can give it, I'll do that."

She smiled in what she probably meant to be a warm way, but all it did was make me want to vomit.

"Good enough.
 
May the road rise up to meet you, Jayne Blackthorne."

"And may the fae get your sorry ass back to the Underworld where you belong before you hurt anyone else, Moriah Hawthorne."

I could still hear her laughter as I shut the door tight behind me, making sure the entire sword was out in the hallway first.

"What was she laughing about?" asked Spike, waiting for me down the hall.

"Nothing.
 
I just told her a joke."

"I've got one, you want to hear it?" asked Tim.

"No.
 
You're not funny."

"I am so funny," he insisted.
 
"So a demon, an incubus, and an elemental walk into a bar ..."

I snatched Tim out of the air when his back was to me and held him close to my face.
 
His eyes got as big as saucers, and he tried to struggle out of my grip.

"Are you suuuuure you waaaaant to teeeeellll that jooooooke, Tim?"

He wilted like a flower out of water.
 
"Ewwww.
 
No.
 
Gah.
 
Oxygen.
 
Someone.
 
Anyone.
 
Help me.
 
Saaaave meeeee ... "
 
He remained flopped over to the side in my hand, eyes closed.
 
After a few seconds he said, "What'd you have for breakfast?
 
Anchovies?"

"I haven't eaten breakfast.
 
Or dinner.
 
Or anything for that matter."
 
I looked at Spike. "Do you have any inside pull at the kitchens?
 
Do you even know where they are?"

"Come on," he said, taking me by the hand.
 
"I'll hook us up, and then we'll get the heck outta here.
 
You think you can get us there ... to the Underworld?"

I nodded.
 
"Yep.
 
Just get me fed and to the meadow, and I'll take it from there."
 
I reached my hand back and flung it out in front of me in a bowling motion, sending Tim screaming in part fear and part glee down the hallway in front of us.
 
Pixie bowling.
 
Sweet.

Spike smiled.
 
"Will it be like the last time you took me realm traveling?
 
If so, I need to go back to my room to get my crash helmet."

I snorted. "God, I sure hope not."

"What happened last time?" asked Tim, coming back to us in a not very straight flight path.
 
"Willy wasn't able to tell us anything about that part.
 
All he kept saying was that you took him on a boat and he floated all over the place."
 
Tim flew in between us, backwards and a little out in front.

"Let's just say I lacked a little finesse," I said.

"Or you could say she threw us in the middle of a hurricane that dropped us off at Maggie's door with half the forest in our hair," clarified Spike.

"Yeah, or you could say that," I said, reaching up and tweaking his ear.

He grabbed me around the waist and squeezed me to him as we walked down the corridor.
 
"You're not bad, Sparks, you know that?"

"If you say so," I said, smiling my head off, looking straight ahead, squeezing the sword in its scabbard with my other hand.
 
I was afraid if I looked at him right now I'd go all goo-goo on him.

"Yeah.
 
I do say so."
 
He got to the door that was glowing up ahead and let me go, taking the handle and pulling.
 
"Welcome to the fae compound kitchens."

CHAPTER NINETEEN

WE LEFT THE KITCHEN WITH a bunch of wrapped food and more water, ready to conquer the world.
 
Or at least, the Underworld.
 
Spike took us on a circuitous route he guaranteed would avoid any fae trying to look for us, and we arrived at the Infinity Meadow to the spot under my mom's tree in good enough time that I wasn't feeling totally anxious.

I sat down and crossed my legs.
 
"Okay, so you guys can just relax.
 
I've learned my lesson, I'm not going to do this without protection."
 
I called out to The Green and transmitted a message.
 
Keep us safe.
 
Let no fae or demon or other creature get near us until I say we're ready
.
 
I pictured vines and grasses and branches trapping unsuspecting fae as they tried to approach, and hoped my visuals were enough to do the trick.

"What's the plan?" asked Spike, sitting down beside me.
 
Tim buzzed around our heads.

"I'm going to reach out to Garrett.
 
The Green is watching over us, but I can only do so much trying to get the idea of protection across, so keep a lookout."

"Gotcha."
 
He rubbed my back.
 
"We'll be here when you get back, and hopefully not with a demon poking at us."

"Good," I said, trying to block out the memories of being here not that long ago and stuck through with the sword that lay by my side right now.
 
I closed my eyes, reaching into my mind, trying to find that dark place I had compelled Beau and Ben into.
 
I could hear echoes of sounds - voices maybe - but no faces appeared.
 
I called out to Garrett, telling him I needed him and that his sister said hello.
 
That got me nothing but spooky sounds, so I quit doing it pretty quickly.

I peeked an eye open and saw Tim practicing his barrel rolls and Spike strumming an air guitar.
 
I went back to my not-so-happy place and gave up with the calm and mature approach, yelling as loud as I could in my head.
 
"Gaaarrrrett!
Where in the hell are you?!
 
Get in here now!
 
I need passage to the Underworld!"

"Why hello, young Jayne.
 
So very nice to see you again," said the smooth, cultured voice of the vampire I knew to be Garrett.

I spun around in the dark place of my mind, trying to figure out where his voice was coming from.
 
"Lights on," I said out into the space, illuminating it enough that I could see the vague outline of my passage-maker on the outskirts.

"You know, it is not necessary to compel me; I would come willingly if you would only summon me."

I sighed heavily.
 
"I've been trying that, but it wasn't working.
 
I'm not even sure how I did
this
other than to lose my cool."

"In any case ... what may I do for you this good night?"

"You can take me and my friends to the Underworld.
 
Oh, and your sister Moriah sends her hellos."

Garrett stepped closer to me, his face pinched up in a definite scowl.

"Did I say something wrong?" I asked, gauging his reaction closely.

"Merely that you have had contact with my sister.
 
I find the concept disturbing, to be honest."

"Yeah, well, I found her sword in my chest to be pretty disturbing too, if you want to know the truth.
 
But now that she doesn't have it anymore, I guess I don't have to worry about that little problem."

Garrett reached out as if to touch my arm.
 
"You have ... you have her weapon?
 
How can that be?
 
It only goes to the one who defeats her."
 
He frowned.
 
"Is she ... gone?"

"Pfft.
 
Please.
 
As if I could kill a demon.
 
No, I just took her sword away from her and made it so she couldn't get it back, that's all.
 
Apparently, that's enough to earn the sword or whatever.
 
I don't really want it, so if you want to take it you're welcome to it."

He shook his head.
 
"I would not bring that bad energy onto my person for all the quid in the world."

"Squid?
 
Is that some sort of weird trading thing in the Underworld?
 
Seems like it'd make everyone kind of smelly."

"Not squid.
 
Quid
.
 
It is money."

"Ohhhh, quid ... of course.
 
Yeah.
 
Me neither.
 
I don't want it."

"No, you
do
want it," he argued.
 
"Trust me, this you do want for yourself."

"Why?"

"Just ... trust me.
 
In the Underworld, you will want this weapon, if the Underworld is indeed where you wish to go."

I nodded.
 
"I do.
 
And I want my friends to go with me.
 
Can you guide us?
 
Be our passage-maker or whatever?"

He nodded back at me.
 
"Yes, I can.
 
I believe I owe you at least that much."