All That Lives Must Die - Eric Nylund [103]
“No, thank goodness. All that devil-fighting stuff stopped centuries ago. Probably extended the longevity of my family. We still have a talent for white magic, exorcisms and stuff like that, but as far as the Infernal Lords are concerned—and certainly Jezebel, a real Duchess of the Poppy Lands—we’re small fry.”
Fiona studied Mitch. There were nobility and kindness in his face: high cheekbones, straight nose, hair the color of mahogany, and smoky eyes she could drown in.
They halted at the front gate.
Harlan Dells had his back to them, staring into the alley.
Mitch cleared his throat.
“I know you are there,” Mr. Dells grumbled. “Be quiet.” He took in a deep breath and held it, waited, and then finally said: “I can no longer hear them.”
“Who?” Fiona asked
Mr. Dells turned, his face more serious than usual. “Your brother, Miss Post. He and the Jezebel girl entered the alley . . . and they have taken a wrong turn beyond my senses.”
“Wait a second,” Fiona said. “I thought you said you could ‘hear grass grow on the other side of the world’?”
Mr. Dells stiffened. “I can, young lady.” His eyes narrowed. “In this world.” He flicked the switch that operated the iron gate, and it rolled aside. “I suggest you find him.”
Fiona and Mitch shared a glance wrought with concern.
The wrongness she had felt a second ago crystallized into fear. First, Eliot was with Jezebel. She couldn’t begin to count all the things that could go wrong with that situation. And second, there was no place to make a “turn” in the alley. It led straight out into the street.
This was just the kind of trouble only her stupid brother could get into.
“Please come with us,” Fiona asked Mr. Dells.
“My duties do not permit me to leave the campus.” Mr. Dells looked into the sun without blinking. “You need to hurry . . . before their light goes out altogether.”
Fiona wasn’t sure what he meant, because the sun was nowhere near setting, but it chilled her blood.
She and Mitch ran out into the alley where Mr. Dell had stared.
There was Xybek’s Jewelry and an Apple computer store for Paxington students—but no place where Eliot could have turned.
“How can you turn on a straight line?” she whispered.
Mitch cocked his head as if listening. “You add another line—another dimension.” He moved to the brick wall and touched it.
Fiona followed, hearing something, too: a violin, distant dull explosions, thundering horse hooves, the crash of metal, and screams.
Fiona swallowed. She understood now.
Eliot had taken a “wrong turn” as they had that first day when they found this alley. Normally, you weren’t supposed to be able to see the entrance, because it was hidden “sideways” from the perspective of normal three dimensions.
But there was no reason strange extradimensional passages couldn’t be hidden anywhere . . . everywhere, right in plain sight.
Maybe even ones you could’ve stumbled upon without wanting to.
She ran her fingers over the wall, searching.
She brushed over Mitch’s fingers and felt an electric thrill. Embarrassed, she almost jerked her hand away, but the sensation had been real . . . and not just because she’d touched Mitch. There was something there, underneath.
Fiona pressed harder, feeling a bump in the fabric of existence.
She let her vision drift out of focus; she felt a loose thread and pulled it out.
Fiona’s ears popped. She fumbled for Mitch’s hand and grabbed it.
She felt as if she were descending fast in an elevator.
Behind her, a long brick-lined passage stretched back toward the alley—and stretched farther as she watched, curving out of sight. Overhead buildings leaned closer.
Shadows were everywhere.
Fiona couldn’t see a thing. She felt like she was suffocating.
Mitch held his free hand up. A ball of light appeared in his palm—as brilliant as an arc welder. He gritted his teeth in pain.
The shadows retreated about them . . . screaming.
Mitch’s light revealed hundreds of creatures climbing over one another to retreat from the brilliance.
There were more