Give the Devil His Due (The Sanheim Chronicles, Book Three) (20 page)

“They’ll do nothing!” Sanheim told her. “They’re impotent, weak.”

“You don’t know that.”

Sanheim’s blue eyes flashed dangerously at her.

“Don’t tell me what I don’t know,” he said. “There are no other options. I’ve thought this through.”

“We can wait until she comes here, if she even succeeds,” Carman said.

“I can’t take the risk that the two of them come together,” Sanheim said.

“Even if they did, he’s dead, she’s living,” Carman said. “The prophecy said…”

“Prophecies can be wrong, my dear,” he said. “The truth is I don’t know what her plan is. Maybe she thinks she can merely pluck Quinn free, but what concerns me is if she has some other agenda.”

“Like what? She can’t raise the dead,” Carman said. “Not even you can do that.”

Sanheim looked out to sea again, watching as a tentacle rose out of the black waves below them.

“She’s not the one bothering you, is she?” Carman asked.

Sanheim nodded.

“Kieran,” she finished.

“She let him live and I can’t for the life of me figure out why,” Sanheim said. “He’s up to something, playing his own game. But I’ll be damned if I know what it is.”

“Ironic choice of words, my love.”

He smiled mirthlessly.

“I need you to find her and stop her,” Sanheim said. “Barring that, kill Kieran.”

“I’ll destroy them both,” she replied. She sounded mock offended.

“Don’t be too sure,” he said. “She’s powerful and growing more so every minute we waste. I waited too long to strike, but I was overly worried about the damned treaty.”

“Have some faith in me,” Carman said. “My boys and I will…”

“That’s another thing,” Sanheim said. “I need your boys to stay here.”

She looked at him in alarm.

“But…”

“I need them for a mission here,” Sanheim replied. “I’m sorry.”

“There are others…”

“I need servants who are reliable,” Sanheim said. “Your boys will not fail me.”

When Carman looked at him again, he could see the anger in her eyes.

“I don’t like this,” she said.

“Your objection is noted,” Sanheim responded coolly. “Now go. And tell your boys I need them here within the day.”

“And what do you plan to do?” Carman asked, sounding snide. “Sit here in your castle and plot?”

“No,” he responded. “I need to see if I can head off this disaster.”

Carman looked at him skeptically.

“How?” she asked.

“By doing what I do best,” he said. “Try to buy someone’s soul.”

*****

Quinn couldn’t remember how he ended up here. One minute he was sitting by the barn, mulling over the situation, and now he was sitting on a wide barren hill, overlooking a green valley below. The sky was a deep, ominous purple, but he had to admit the view was strangely enticing.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” a voice said next to him.

Quinn was unsurprised to look over and find a man in a formal black suit. He looked older than he remembered, but arguably even more distinguished. He had also forgotten just how intimidating he could be. Quinn stood up and looked at him warily.

“Sanheim,” Quinn said.

He knew now where he was. It was a dream. Janus had mentioned that they could still dream, but Quinn had yet to do so. He must have fallen asleep while he was waiting to talk to Carol.

Sanheim simply nodded.

“You handled Lord Halloween well,” he said. “It was the test of trials. I admit I expected you to fail.”

“I had help,” Quinn said, and shrugged.

“Still, it was impressive,” Sanheim said. “You should be proud of yourself.”

“Coming from you, that means absolutely nothing,” Quinn said.

“Careful, Quinn,” Sanheim said. “Or you may find your luck runs out sooner than you expect.”

Quinn eyed him carefully. He looked at the clothes, the streaks of gray in his hair, the small scar on the side of his face. Had he found this man intimidating? In that moment, he couldn’t think why.

“What I don’t understand is why you bothered,” Quinn said. “Why did you help me become the Prince of Sanheim in the first place? Why not just leave me to die at the hands of Lord Halloween two years ago?”

“Ah,” Sanheim responded. “You’re angry. I understand.”

“What, because you killed me? Hell, no, why would I be angry about that?”

“It was nothing personal,” Sanheim replied. “I needed you to destroy Sawyer and Elyssa, which you did quite handily by the way. After that point, you were no longer needed. I couldn’t take the risk that you’d become a threat later.”

“Well, that’s the difference between us, I guess,” Quinn said. “When you killed me, it wasn’t personal. When I kill you, however, you can bet your ass it will be.”

Sanheim’s face darkened and Quinn noticed the sky became black, apparently reflecting its master’s mood.

“Do you think you can threaten me?” he asked in a booming voice. It seemed to bounce off the hills around them. Despite his best effort, Quinn felt himself pull away. Sanheim seemed to grow several inches taller.

“You are nothing, do you understand me?” Sanheim continued. “I have ruled since time immemorial, worshiped since before humans could make fire. I have been known by many names. Before I was Sanheim, they called me Crom Cruach. They smashed infants’ heads against stones as a blood sacrifice to me.”

Although he was afraid, Quinn didn’t want to let it show.

“You must be very proud,” he responded. “Nothing says you’re a badass like killing defenseless babies.”

Sanheim’s normally blue eyes glowed a deep red.

“You are making me angry,” he said.

“Let me guess: I wouldn’t like you when you’re angry,” Quinn said. “Do you turn all big and green? Because I’d like to see that.”

Sanheim gave him an icy smile.

“Very well,” he said. “Look upon your master.”

Now it wasn’t Quinn’s imagination. Sanheim grew several feet taller and started to change. Quinn was repulsed and wanted to look away, but he couldn’t. Sanheim no longer looked remotely human, and his eyes were large red orbs. In his hand he held a sword that was on fire.

“Look on my true form, mortal,” Sanheim said in a voice so hideous that Quinn wanted to cover his ears, but he couldn’t. “Look upon me and tremble.”

Quinn actually did tremble. He had faced down the Headless Horseman, dueled with Aillen — what the ancient Irish called the Burner — and killed a Phooka, a powerful Celtic shape changer. But nothing prepared him for what he saw now.

“I was here to offer you a boon,” Sanheim said. “A reward for your defeat of Lord Halloween. If you cease this pointless quest of yours, I will grant you what he ruled. You can create it how you like, rule as you see fit. And you will no longer be my enemy.”

Quinn could barely speak, but managed two words, “And Kate?”

“When she dies, I will send her to you,” Sanheim said, still in that awful voice. “You can live with her. I will even give you a slice of my power. Become the Headless Horseman if you wish, I do not care. Decide now, mortal. I grow weary of your insolence.”

For a moment, Quinn could see it. He could live safely with Kate, hiding from this beast in the cornfields. Maybe they could manage to make a life worth living.

But he knew it was a false vision, driven by fear more than anything else. Sanheim was a liar and even if he granted power temporarily, he could always take it away. Besides, he demanded a condition Quinn would never meet: Kate’s death.

“No deal,” he said.

“You will die, do you understand me?” the Sanheim-thing yelled. “I will make you beg for mercy before it’s over.”

“I’ll never make another deal with you,” Quinn said, sounding more sure of himself.

“You think you can stand against me?” Sanheim said. “I was here before the earth itself. I offered you mercy and you spurned me. But know this, Quinn O’Brion. I am eternal, and I am now your enemy.”

Quinn tried to think of something intelligent to say, some witty rejoinder, but there was no time. Sanheim strode forward with his flaming sword in hand and hit him with a giant hand. Quinn never had a chance to brace himself or dodge the blow. It knocked him high in the air, off the hill, and suddenly Quinn was falling, falling, falling…

*****

Quinn woke with a start. He was now lying in the grass outside the barn. Carol was looking at him with concern.

“You were shouting,” she said.

Quinn looked around blearily, anxious to see who else noticed.

“I was probably the only one who heard,” she said, apparently reading his thoughts.

Carol sat down next to him in the grass. It was still strange to think that she was considerably older than he was, yet looked like she was still in high school.

“I don’t need to guess who you were dreaming about,” she said. “You shouted, ‘I’ll never make another deal with you.’”

“Did I?” Quinn asked. He remembered he had been talking to Sanheim, but the details were fuzzy. He tried to picture what Sanheim had looked like when he had transformed. Whatever it was, it was wiped from his memory, but it was terrifying.

“Any of it coming back to you?” Carol asked.

“We were on a hilltop,” Quinn said after a few minutes. “He offered to let me take Kyle’s place, but…”

“Kate would have to die,” Carol finished.

“Exactly,” Quinn said. “He, uh, wasn’t happy when I refused.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Carol said. “He’s not used to losing.”

“I gathered that,” Quinn said.

She paused and looked at the cornfield around them. The sun had come up and the place felt less ominous. Quinn might have believed it if someone told him he was now in Kansas.

“There’s still a lot I don’t understand,” Quinn said finally. “Some of it’s little stuff. Why do you and Buzz look young?”

“This isn’t the real world, honey,” Carol replied with a folksy twang. “It’s the afterlife. To some degree, you shape the world around you. You can choose what you look like.”

An idea occurred to Quinn.

“Can I look like the Headless Horseman?”

Carol shook her head.

“No, that’s not what I meant,” she replied. “I just mean you can shape your appearance somewhat, but you can’t choose an entirely different form. I couldn’t look like Raquel Welsh or something. It still has to be you.”

“But the Horseman is part of me,” Quinn said.

“But it’s tied to your powers as the Prince of Sanheim,” she said. “And those you don’t have.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re dead,” Carol said. “I would’ve thought that was obvious. Each of us has some power here, enough to shape our basic self-image, and maybe a little more under the right circumstances. But whatever you were in life, you’re no more powerful than the rest of us now. The same goes for Elyssa. She can’t change into different animals any more than you can ride off as the Horseman.”

“You know her, don’t you? Kieran told me some about your past,” Quinn said.

Carol looked away from him.

“That’s a conversation for a different time,” Carol said. “We need to be moving shortly.”

“Moving where?”

“That’s what we need to discuss,” she said.

Carol stood up and found a twig nearby. Quinn noticed that while she looked like a teenager, she didn’t move like one. There was no sense of awkwardness, just a casual confidence that only came from decades of living. She leaned over and drew in the dirt with the twig. When Quinn looked, it was just an outline without much of a shape.

“This is where we are,” she said. “Look familiar?”

Quinn studied the outline for a minute. At first he was tempted to say no, but then it hit him. He smiled.

“It’s Ireland,” he said. “We’re in Ireland? Wait, Ireland is hell?”

Carol sighed.

“First off, you need to stop thinking of it as hell,” she said.

“Did you see the welcoming sign?” Quinn asked. “It was pretty damn clear.”

“I’m not an expert, but there is more than one afterlife,” she replied. “Some of them may be better than others, but what seems to matter is who controls them. This one is controlled by Sanheim, and he has chosen to re-make it as hell.”

“Charming,” Quinn said. “I guess he’s not worried about tourism.”

Carol didn’t smile.

“It was a joke,” he said.

“Oh, I know, honey, it just wasn’t funny,” she said. “We’re in ancient Ireland. That’s the canvas, if you will, for what Sanheim has created. But there’s no Dublin or Cork or Galway to visit. It’s also bigger than you’d imagine, especially when you can only travel on foot. I’d kill for an ATV or something, but there’s no such luck. There are a few footpaths, but that’s it.”

“And where are we on this map?” Quinn asked.

Carol pointed with her stick to near the right side and roughly in the middle from top to bottom.