Devil Ash Disarray (Devil Ash Saga Book 3) (24 page)

The baker who sold his last cocoa scone to Uverstarr had to temporarily close up shop. He was sold out of most of his inventory, and since business slowed down with the relay course starting soon, he seized the opportunity to return to his main shop to restock. He exited his booth, closed the shutter, and hung a sign that read “
Be Back Soon
” for all to see.

The old baker was wise, and instead of fighting the foot traffic on the streets he brought out his wings and took to the sky. By flight, the trip back to his shop near the border of East and South Hell only took him about fifteen minutes. He wasn’t the fastest flier anymore, on account of his age. As far as devils go, the old baker was past the halfway point in his life. When he finally set down on the ground and recalled his wings, he was winded and gasping for air. He caught his breath for a few seconds, adopting a more serious look, and then entered the bakery through the side door.

Inside he found his eldest son working the oven, sweating from the extra exposure to so much heat. Two more of his sons worked on loading the finished baked goods onto a small cart. The youngest and fourth son sat at the counter, calling off the various orders to be loaded.

“What’s the hold up in here?” the old baker asked his sons as he moved into the kitchen, shooing his eldest from the oven so that he could check on the contents himself.

“We ran out of flour faster than we anticipated,” the eldest son said. “We had to send Marshall to the store, but it was closed so he had to go to a store that was even further away. It was a big ordeal, but we’re past it and fully stocked again.”

The old baker turned his attention to his sons loading up the cart. “You boys might as well wait, since I have more orders.” He pulled from his pockets the list he made of items he needed to restock at the booth.

“How are you doing on change?” the eldest son asked.

The baker slapped his pockets. The pouch he kept his spare change in felt light and thin. He flashed his son a look of paternal approval and gratitude, then moved to the cash register to remove some extra skorch. After filling his purse the old baker yanked a tray of cocoa scones out of one of his sons hands as he passed by.

“The scones have been selling the best all day,” the old baker said. “I’m taking this tray back with me now. You hurry up and finish the orders, then get’em to me as quick as you can.”

“Leave it to me, dad,” the eldest son replied, oozing confidence.

“Leave it to
us
,” one of the younger sons muttered.

The old baker headed for the side door in a hurry to get back to open the booth. Just before exiting, he took a moment to pause and turn around. He watched his sons swim through the kitchen like fish in the sea. Everything they knew they learned from watching him. To see his boys working so efficiently filled him with pride.

The bakery’s main door opened, and in walked five tough looking women. They marched in single file, all wearing matching outfits and following a brooding, cross-armed leader. They were stealthy and inaudible over the sounds of the kitchen. The old baker saw them, but his employees were all distracted.

“
Customers
!” the old baker called to his sons. He gave a courteous nod and a wink to the ladies, treating them with kindness as he would any customer. The ladies met his kindness with stone-faced, ominous expressions. The old baker figured their team must have had a loss that was bringing them down. He called off one last order to his sons. “Give them the special rates.”

The old baker left his shop feeling good. His tray of scones wasn’t too heavy, and he brought out his wings and easily took to the sky. He flew halfway to his booth before he realized he forgot to mention the coffee needed refilling. That wasn’t included on his list, and he didn’t want to leave it to chance. He spun around one-eighty and headed back to his bakery. He was only in the air for ten minutes, but as he set foot on the ground outside the shop he realized something was odd.

He entered through the side door again. Inside it was a considerably different scene. No one was moving around the kitchen anymore, the whole place was dead silent. Standing in the middle of the room were the baker’s four sons. Each one looked to be inspecting their bodies, lifting their arms, wiggling fingers, and making sure everything worked properly. At their feet were the women, the same customers from when the baker had left.

“
What are you all doing
?” the old baker exclaimed, baffled by the bizarre situation. “What happened to these ladies?” The old man crossed the floor to the nearest woman, lifting her head and trying to gently shake her back to consciousness. “Why are you all just standing around? Help them!”

The four sons ignored their father’s orders. They would no longer take commands from the devil baker. Their attention instead was focused on the kitchen, but the old baker was too concerned with the unconscious women to notice. He shuffled around on the floor poking and prodding each woman until a thought popped into his head.

Where’s the other woman
? he thought. After a quick count, he confirmed there were indeed only four women unconscious on the floor, when five women had entered earlier.
The brooding lady that led them all in is gone
.
Maybe she went to get help
…

“It is fortunate you’ve returned.”

The old baker directed his attention to the kitchen, the source of the woman’s voice he just heard. Standing next to the oven was the familiar gloomy woman he’d seen earlier leading her team. But why was she now standing in the kitchen?

“Uhh…” the old man said, at a loss for words. “I’m sorry ma’am, but the kitchen area is for employees only. You’ll have to come back over-”

In the time it took to say those words, the mysterious woman crossed the room and interrupted the old baker by gripping his throat with her right hand. The old man’s eyes nearly popped out of his sockets and his face turned a dark shade of red as he kicked and struggled to free himself.

“I needed a body swap as well,” the woman said as she lifted the old man off the floor. “Yours will do.”

The old man’s arms flailed, his hands gripped and slapped at whatever he could reach. The woman’s grip would not loosen, no matter how the old man struck her. He tried forming flame, but being unable to breath and in such a state of shock and panic, his fire wouldn’t burn. He spat a few bursts of dim sparks, but nothing hurt the woman. His legs kicked desperately, but no amount of sway could shake the woman’s grip. The old baker’s eyes swiveled around the room. He looked to his sons for help, but none was coming.

Instead of jumping in to help their father, the four young men remained at ease. Sinister smiles even graced the faces of a few of them. No one moved an inch otherwise.

“They will not help you,” said Otozek through the woman’s mouth. “They are my loyal servants now. It’s time you joined us.”

The next time the woman opened her mouth, something long and dark shot out like a missile. The piercing appendage went straight into the old baker’s mouth, connecting him to the demon woman. Her eyes rolled back in their sockets and she released her grip on the man’s throat. It was too late for him to escape as he choked on the demon’s tail, his muffled cries of terror barely audible.

The four demon-controlled men stood by watching as their leader slipped out of the woman’s body and into the old baker. What was a normal sight to the demons was a bizarre one for anyone else. As Otozek’s tail probed deeper and deeper into the baker’s mouth, more and more of the demon prince’s body slipped out of the woman as a logic-defying mixture of solid and liquid matter.

Eventually Otozek left the woman behind, disappearing entirely into the baker’s wide open mouth. The poor lady fell to the floor, limp and unconscious like the others surrounding her. The old baker’s body swayed for a moment like he was about to fall over, but the demon prince established control and kept the body standing upright.

Otozek tested his new body, squatting in place and waving his arms. “Not as spry as the last one, but it will be good enough,” the demon prince said, turning to his team. “We’d better clean up this mess before anyone sees us.”

The mess he was referring to was the five unconscious bodies lying on the floor. The unfortunate team of ladies still drew shallow, short breathes, but looked otherwise lifeless. As the demon team stretched their new host body’s jaws open to impossible proportions, descending upon their prey with hungry eyes, the women were better off being unconscious.

No one should ever have to endure being fully conscious and aware as they’re devoured alive.

Chapter Seventeen: Otozek Advances

After finishing off every last bite of evidence, the demons took their new bodies out for a test ride on the town. The air was hot, the sun was shining and the streets were crowded, making it the exact opposite ideal environment for a demon. As they left the shop Otozek led them through mostly shaded areas, sticking to the backstreets and less populated routes.

With their faster-than-average speed, they were able to acquire some nifty items.
Solar spectacles
were a hot new product among the merchants, and so were parasols. The demons saw no harm in removing a few of these useful objects from unsuspecting merchant’s carts. These devils tools they were actually greater for.

“Try to blend in and search for the human again,” said Otozek. “We know he is part of a team competing in their festival. He should be out somewhere participating.”

“
But master
…” Orkazek interjected from the body of the youngest son. “The devil kingdom is so large and there are so many games going on all over! This could take a long time!”

“We must act fast. Watch me, and do as I do,” Otozek replied, marching forward with confidence. The demon prince walked up to the nearest random stranger on the street and tapped the man on the shoulder.

“Do you know where the human is today?”

The man shrugged and shook his head “no”.

Otozek left him and moved on to the next closest person. His team took the cue and copied their master. Not all of the greater demon team had mastered the art of blending in flawlessly, though. Gnusek could only communicate in grunts and moans.

After clearing through an entire street full of scurrying people, the demon team was no closer to having their answer. Not a single person they spoke to knew the whereabouts of the famous human Ash Kaplan. It wasn’t until after thirty minutes of random questioning did the demon team get lucky. Just as another unhelpful stranger turned away from Otozek, a person holding a tall white flag approached the prince of demons.

“Hello sir,” said Kurdis as he tapped Otozek’s shoulder. “I overheard you asking about Ash. I just so happen to know which team he’s on, and where they can be found today.”

Prince Otozek tried to contain his excitement. A demon’s smile spread across the devil’s face, his eyes wide with desire. “
Where
.”

Kurdis smiled. “I would love to tell you,” he said, lifting his arm and presenting his donation cup. He rattled the coins around inside it with a shake. “For a small
donation
, of course.”

Otozek might have ripped Kurdis’s head off, but he managed to keep his cool. He remembered from his studies of the devils that they valued small round pieces of ore they called skorch. He looked to his team, motioning with his eyes for them to continue following his lead.

The demon prince patted down his host body’s pockets, feeling for anything at all. His followers did the same. They managed to produce an assortment of random objects: a few paperclips, some candy, a pipe, and a pocket-sized book about the art of baking bread. It was Otozek’s host body, that of the old baker that actually held the pouch of coins. Everyone presented their objects to Kurdis.

The orphanage owner smiled, welcoming any and all charity as he took the items. He was especially excited about the baker’s coin pouch, which he opened immediately. The little sack was half full of coins, at least a thousand skorch worth.

“This will
most definitely
do,” said Kurdis gleefully. “You can follow us. We were going there anyway, actually.”

“
Us
?” Prince Otozek asked.

“Me and the kids, of course!” Kurdis replied, stepping aside to reveal the children of the orphanage lined up in a long queue behind him. “We’ll take you straight to Ash!”

Ash and the gang sat around an outdoor picnic table observing their individual copies of the relay race route map. In the shade of a large parasol, sipping iced drinks, they plotted strategy and discussed again what the official lineup would be. Aura surprised everyone by endorsing Uverstarr’s plan and offering to take the first stretch of the course.

“I think Bratty McShortstack is right,” said Aura, jerking his thumb at Uverstarr. “I volunteer to start us out. If I give it my all I can put us in the lead for sure.”

“That’s fine,” said Shiva. “I’ll go along with the kid’s plan with one exception. I want to trade with Raley and take the second slot instead. I’ll show you just how
fat
I am when I put us even further in the lead.”

Uverstarr responded by sticking his finger partway into his mouth and making overdramatic gagging sound effects.

“Sounds good to me too,” Aralia said.  “How about you Ash?”

The girl turned to Ash, who’d been staring off into the distance since they first sat down to plan their day. Despite his claims of feeling fine, it was obvious that the boy was tired. Ash snapped out of his trance and joined the conversation, his eyes and hands fidgety.

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” the boy said. “That’s fine with me.” After a brief glance-over of the map he realized the last leg of the race was indeed the shortest. He considered asking for another leg, but felt too sore and worn-out to complain. He decided to just accept their charity instead.

“Then it’s settled,” said Shiva. “We’ve got about twenty minutes to get to our starting points before the race starts. Some of you might want to get going since you’ve got quite a hike.”

Shiva was right. Each starting point was spread out all across the kingdom, sometimes miles apart. Ash in particular had the longest way to go, being the last leg of the course.

“I guess I should get going,” Ash said. The boy turned to leave, slurping his iced drink through a straw and looking dejected.

Aralia watched the boy go, wishing she could cheer him up. She wanted to walk with him, but their starting points weren’t close. Her route was off in the same direction as Shiva, so the girls would walk together. As Ash left, Aralia nudged Uverstarr’s shoulder and prodded him forward.

“You should walk with him,” she told the boy. “Make friends!” Uverstarr rolled his eyes and slinked forward, stalking after Ash. Aralia turned her focus to her idol. “Shall we go, Lady Shiva?”

“Oh, yeah…” Shiva replied, already backing away from the table. “You’re coming with me…”

Aralia caught up to Shiva quickly and the two ladies marched off to their destinations together. Aralia immediately launched into an overenthusiastic conversation about Shiva’s hair. The Royal Princess of Hell furrowed her brow and sighed heavily as they disappeared into the crowd.

Aura remained at the picnic table in the shade. He sat facing the nearby assembly of athletes, all warming up for the relay doing stretches in a roped off area that was for participants only. He kept a close watch particularly on the slim, toned, athletic ladies of the competition. He licked at a red snow cone, eyeing one young blonde who happened to be bending over wearing tight black shorts. For the time being he felt confident in his decision to take the first leg.

His moment of peace didn’t last long. Among the sounds of people chattering excitedly as they waited for the game to start, several dozen more high-pitched, screaming, squealing, squawking, talking voices drew closer. When the death toucher pulled his eyes away from the blonde bimbo bending over, he saw a throng of children approaching. In the lead was Mr. Kurdis of the orphanage, carrying his tall white flag and sporting the donation cup he was so fond of.

“Oh! Aura!” Kurdis called out when he spotted the boy. “Aura Draxler! Come on kids, over here. I spotted Mr. Draxler.”

Aura chowed down the last of his snow cone as the assembly of youngsters set upon him. Little Amalia cut from the line and rushed past the other children. She ran to Aura’s side, a delighted smile gracing her excited adolescent face. She paused just before reaching the boy, looking like something was awry.

“Hey squirt,” Aura said, forcing a polite smile. The little girl cocked her head like a surprised dog. “Long time, no see.”

“
Princess ponytail
!” said Amalia, pointing at Aura. The boy quickly realized it was his new hairstyle that had given the girl pause.

“That’s right,” Aura said with a nervous smile. “You want one too? We can be twins.” He held out his hand offering the girl a spare hair tie he had. She gingerly took it from him, fastening it to her head in such a way that when she was done her ponytail hung from the side. Aura couldn’t help but smile at how adorable it looked.

“Looking good, Mal,” Kurdis said, patting the girl on her head. She twisted from side to side in pleasure, waving her dress playfully with a big smile. “She won’t stop asking about you, you know,” said Kurdis to Aura.

“Sorry about that,” Aura replied as Amalia could take it no longer. She crept close enough to wrap her little arms around him, and was at last content. “I guess even younger girls aren’t immune to my charm.”

“So it would seem,” said Kurdis, dividing his attention between the conversation with Aura and the group of misbehaving young boys behind him. “
Stop shoving Brandon
!
Elton get in line
!
Don’t make me come back there Jace
!”

“I guess you’re all here to watch the race then?” Aura asked.

“Of course,” Kurdis replied, beaming with pride. “We’re your own personal fan squad, and we’re here to cheer!” The man’s words brought to mind something he’d forgotten. “Oh, by the way, where is Ash? I found a few fans of his that would like to meet him.” Kurdis jerked his thumb toward the back of the line of children, but Aura wasn’t sure who the man was pointing to.

“Where?” Aura asked, seeing only the edges of the crowd beyond the line of orphans. “Are they good looking ladies? I’ll talk to them.”

Kurdis spun around and searched the area for the strangers he led there, but found no trace of the men. He never saw them disappear. “That’s odd,” said Kurdis. “I guess they must have left already. Oh well. At least they paid me –
Cammy, Ken
,
get back in line this instant
!”

A festival official holding a megaphone boomed, making her voice heard by everyone in the vicinity. “May I have your attention please! All competitors should now proceed to the starting line! The relay race will begin shortly!”

“Guess I’m up,” said Aura with a shrug. He climbed out of his chair, fighting Mal’s tight-fisted grip on his shirt as he rose. “Wish me luck,” he said, patting Mal gently on her head.

“Luck!” Amalia chirped with a friendly nod.

Aura waved goodbye to everyone and departed. Kurdis led the children in an inspiring chant of “
good luck mister Aura
!” The death toucher battled the throng of spectators and athletes heading for the starting line. Kurdis led his line of rowdy children away to find a suitable area to watch from.

Miles away across the kingdom, Ash felt an ominous chill run down his spine. He shook it off and continued on his trek with Uverstarr to find their starting positions. With so many people around, the boy would never know of the menacing group of man-shaped beasts following several hundred paces behind him.