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WALKING DOWN THE HALLWAY, Jediah tugged a string out of his hair. One braid loosened, and he wasted no time unraveling it.
A figure came into view.
Jediah’s hands froze.
The dark being wore a green robe. His eyes trailed a woman as she entered the lady’s room, and to Jediah’s disgust, the demon licked his lips and followed her right in.
Malkior.
Jediah’s energy roiled. Heat filled his face, but he ignored the urge to ambush the bathroom outright. Taking a silent breath, he slipped into the neighboring men’s room. Keeping his eyes down, so as not to encroach anyone’s privacy, he checked the stalls, pushing lightly on all doors one at a time. None were occupied.
Jediah hurried to the door and locked it from the inside. “Alright, Malkior. Game time.” One glimpse in the mirror made him jump, and he grimaced. Knotted locks stuck out all sides of his head like some bizarre pin cushion. “Good grief, Chloe. What did you do?”
***
Jediah relished being in angelic form again, free to move anyway he wished. Trailing the hospital’s pipelines, he stuck his head through the basement ceiling.
Akela, in human form and wearing a ball cap and overalls, whistled a high-pitched tune below.
“You’ve tampered with that boiler for two hours,” a voice shouted. “I think we might have to trash the whole thing at this point.”
Akela grunted and threw his head back, revealing smeared rust powder all over his cheeks. “Oy,” he muttered to himself. “Could this guy leave me alone for a lousy ten minutes?” He picked up the wrench Nechum borrowed for him from the janitor’s closet and rapped it on some metal plates, pretending to work. “Patience, my friend. Patience. It’ll be up and kicking soon.” Akela leaned to one side. “You won’t remember you ever had a problem soon enough.”
“You better not be paid by the hour,” yelled the voice as it faded.
With Akela less occupied, Jediah climbed down and perched above his head. “Akela.”
“Gah!” Akela jerked upright and banged his head into a pipe. Jediah winced as the messenger rubbed his temple.
“Hey! Are you okay?” the voice again called.
Akela gasped. “F-fine. I just... um...” Cringing, he let the wrench fall and flinched as it hit his foot. “I... dropped... a wrench... on my toe.”
“Is it swelling? You need an ice pack?”
“Uh, no.” Akela cleared his husked throat. “No, it’s barely doing anything. Actually, it’s doing nothing. My toes are fine. Got toes of iron. I’m... iron-toed.” He passed an apologetic shrug to Jediah, who could only shake his head and roll his eyes.
“Oookaaay.” Footsteps faded again down the corridor.
Jediah raised his eyebrows. “Smooth.”
“Got rid of him, didn’t it?” Akela argued.
Jediah jumped down and retrieved his sword from underneath the boiler. “I’ve spotted Malkior on the third floor.” Slipping the leather strap under his blue cloak and over his shoulder, he buckled it tight. “You know what to do. Alert the others.” Pulling his hood down, he grabbed the ducts to climb back up.
“I can’t leave right away,” Akela whispered. “They expect me to sign papers.”
“Then sign fast. We’re on the clock,” Jediah ordered.
Akela saluted with his wrench. “Roger. Roger.”
***
Jediah emerged through the bathroom floor and found the automatic lights had already switched off. He crept through the dark to the door and pressed an ear against the wood. Low humming from the air conditioners made eavesdropping trickier than usual, but he still caught the distinct squeak of hinges from the neighboring door.
Jediah’s brow furrowed. Manipulating objects in the first realm while still in the second took significant concentration, but his turning palm felt the doorknob’s inner workings move. He gave it a stronger twist. Its tumblers clicked so slowly, each dink tickled his ear. Then a single strip of light shone through the door crack, and inch by inch, he coaxed it further ajar.
Malkior, the demon they were looking for, leaned against the wall. His ashen appearance sucked in light like some black-hole. A bow, hewn from onyx, hung from his wingless back. The green, nature angel’s garb he wore was stained with soot, and its fringes had hot embers for tassels—customary for a fire type like himself. Their hellish glow gave Malkior the look of a dormant volcano, liable to erupt, given any arbitrary reason.
Jediah’s instincts screamed to pounce on him now, but Malkior scratched his chin and walked farther down the hall.
Jediah crouched low and passed through the door, and after Malkior showed no wariness, he rose to his feet. Each step he took, he synched with Malkior’s, nullifying any chance for noise. Lengthening his stride, Jediah summoned the chains, then looped the links into a noose.
***
Nechum hummed to the elevator’s soft speakers and tapped his hand on the cart. So far, so good. No one suspected him. He was the custodian everyone saw nine hours a day, six days a week. Of course, it helped that so few people even bothered to interact with or greet him. Sighing, Nechum pitied the real custodian. The poor fellow’s social circles were so tragically small.
The elevator dinged. Nechum gripped the cart handle, ready to push on, but his nerves jittered and startled him. He didn’t know why until...
The double doors opened, unveiling an ugly smirk and red eyes.
Nechum’s human heart thumped against his rib cage.
Malkior.
For an eternal minute, Nechum forgot everything. His mind went blank. He didn’t remember the plan. He didn’t remember what Jediah told him to do. He remembered nothing, but noticed somebody gesturing to him.
Jediah stood right behind Malkior, signaling him to come forward, but Nechum found his own two feet stuck in place. Malkior’s eyes narrowed. He leaned into his face. Nechum turned his eyes away, pretending not to notice, but then Malkior puffed air from his nose. Nechum flinched.
Jediah lunged for Malkior, but it was too late. The demon dashed through the left wall.
“No!” Jediah slammed his wings against the floor and took off. His blue cloak fell to the floor.
Nechum jolted back to his senses. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” He slapped his forehead, aghast at such a costly mistake.
***
Jediah leaped through the wall Malkior ducked through and dove headfirst after him into the parking lot. Malkior disappeared through the asphalt without slowing, but before Jediah could think about it, he fell through the pavement too, not expecting the tunnel just beneath it. His head banged on eroded cement. His neck burned furiously, and shooting pain coursed through a broken right arm.
Jediah grunted as he tried to sit up. His injuries bled gold streaks, but he saw Malkior’s cloak turn the corner at the far end of the tunnel. Jediah couldn’t bother binding wounds this time. He scrambled to his feet and tucked in his wings. With the tunnel too tight for flying, he had no choice but to pursue on foot. He prayed Laszio and Eran wouldn’t take too long to provide backup.
***
Stupid! Stupid! How could I be so stupid!
Nechum sped with the cleaning cart, desperate to get rid of it. It rolled too fast from his hand right into the utility closet, and a mighty crash of brooms and ‘wet floor’ signs spilled out. Worried someone might notice, he tossed the mess back inside and slammed the door before it fell out again.
Ducking into another room, he eschewed his human guise, then sprinted for the emergency door but forgot the stairs. His fumbling feet skidded, and he tumbled down the first flight.
***
Jediah’s running jostled his broken arm, but he couldn’t afford to lose Malkior in that network of catacombs. This underground maze seemed endless, and it grew apparent that even if his wingmen followed him in, Laszio and Eran had no chance of navigating its dark twists and turns. They were likely scrambling to find their way already.
Jediah sucked in through his teeth and sprinted faster, more aware that he was on his own.
They reached a straight stretch of tunnel. Finding a wide enough space, Jediah alighted his wings, flapped, and shot a light wave meant to knock Malkior off his feet.
Malkior peeked over his shoulder and yelped. He phased through another wall before the light could connect.
***
Letting his empathic sense guide him, Nechum descended through the basement into the underground tunnels. It smelled old and putrid. Then, after looking down, he reeled into a corner. Centuries-old skulls and bones littered the floor.
A grey figure slipped in behind him, startling Nechum. “Oh! Alameth, it’s you. How’d you follow me here?”
“I heard you fall.” Drawing his hood over his face, Alameth hovered upon his mists over the long-dried corpses.
“Jediah and Malkior are somewhere in these burial sites,” Nechum explained. “I think we should split up to find them.” He pointed toward two branching tunnels. “I’ll let you pick. Which do you prefer? Right or left?”
***
Jediah flicked off his sharpened quills.
Malkior ducked, and the feather darts speared the walls. Panting, he squeezed himself into a tighter space and shook from panic as he slid along. “Stop chasing me!” He kicked at Jediah, and a stream of fire erupted from his boot. Their flames bloomed into teeth that engulfed the ceiling and floor.
Undaunted, Jediah sped up. He armored his wounded arm and long-jumped straight through the inferno. The fiery maw brushed his clothes, but their flames did not catch. The orange rings surrounding him died out. His boots then landed amidst the scattered sparks without missing a step.
***
Red flashed to Alameth’s right. He peered at the entryway where it came from, for its whiffs of toasted clay were unmistakable. Looking in, he caught sight of two silhouettes just beyond the dying embers that disappeared around the bend.
Alameth pressed his lips together and furrowed his brow. Planting one foot back, he focused his energy. His eyes went white. Spreading his arms out, he commanded his mist to tighten around him in a close circle. It compacted against his chest, then churned and thickened, and once the pressure grew too uncomfortable, he unleashed it all. Fog exploded in one burst, filling the intersecting tunnels like water in a trough.
***
A faint breeze from behind brushed Nechum’s hair and gave him the funniest feeling.
Uh, oh.
Nechum raised a protective shield. Fog erupted, blowing him down.
***
Jediah had pursued Malkior into a four-way intersection when a sudden chilling force shoved him from behind. Smoke swallowed everything. Jediah’s toes gripped within his boots as they strained for footing, but he fell forward.
He couldn’t see two inches in front of himself. His eyes watered as the mist’s vapor invaded his nose. The scrapes on his face and broken arm burned as if they were being nibbled on by parasites, and he felt more energy bleeding from his arm as if the fog siphoned it right out.
Jediah covered his mouth and nose with his good arm and stared ahead into the weakening fog.
Malkior’s silhouette scrambled up. He hacked around, but managed to turn on Jediah and pulled out his bow. Two thick arrows made of embers sparked in his fist.
Jediah scrambled back and grabbed for the nearest wall.
The drawstring twanged. The sparking arrow struck, and Jediah barely had enough time to protect his front with hardened wings. A chunk of wall blasted apart. Stone shards struck his feathers in front, as his exposed back slammed into the opposite wall. His right shoulder crunched and dislocated. His numb wings hummed as he slid to the floor.
Letting out a gasp, Jediah tested his good arm. It didn’t seem to be broken. His mind screamed at him to get up. He lifted to his knees but froze at the sound of another arrow nocked to its bow.
Arms twitching, Malkior aimed for his head. The fire arrow trembled in place like a stick of dynamite in the hands of a drunk. A crazed glint sat in Malkior’s eye as he laughed in hysterics. “Didn’t count on that, did ya? Put your wings behind your back.”
Jediah glared.
Malkior again drew the drawstring to his cheek. The fire coals that embellished his green tunic pulsed red. “Do it! Else I blow the entire block!”
Jediah drew his wings back one inch at a time.
Malkior chuckled and relaxed his arms.
Hoping to throw him off, Jediah pulsed energy through his eyes. They flashed, startling the demon, but Malkior hyperventilated a laugh. “Ha. Ha. Ha. You think that’s funny, do ya?” His pupils dilated unevenly, and he swayed so much, Jediah guessed the fog must have further warped his insanity.
Malkior yanked the drawstring back again as he backed away. The arrow flared. Then, after he glanced twice to the left corridor, he released.
The seconds slowed. Malkior’s arrow ignited as it flew toward Jediah’s head.
“Captain!” Nechum jumped into the arrow’s path. He cupped a blue disk that he stretched out to an arm’s length. The arrow slipped in, but popped before Nechum could enclose it, and the explosion chucked him right into Jediah.
Fresh pain racked Jediah’s throbbing arm and shoulder as he laid there, pinned under Nechum. He willed himself to wriggle out, but his excruciation spiked. Jediah groaned and pounded a fist against the floor. Malkior got away.
Nechum panted, shell shocked and frozen in place.
Suddenly, Jediah’s thoughts turned from himself to his shaken brother. “Nechum?” he croaked. He coughed the rasp from his throat. “Nechum. Are you okay?”
Nodding, Nechum shimmied off. The movement bumped Jediah’s arm, causing Jediah to cry out. Nechum snapped around. His eyes widened, and his hand cupped his mouth. He drew to Jediah’s side and cast an agonized gaze over his ruined arm as though he blamed himself for it.
Touched by his concern, Jediah strained to turn his wincing into a smile, but he hissed the second Nechum fingered the wound to examine it.
Nechum’s eyebrows dipped, and darker shades chased the usually soothing aquamarine colors from his eyes. “Never again, Captain. Never again. I swear I won’t ever freeze like that again.”
Jediah forced himself to sit up, feigning good health. “It’s okay, Nechum. It’s okay.”
Nechum pressed a gentle hand against Jediah’s chest. “Wait. Don’t move.” After helping Jediah lean against the wall, he unclasped the silver pin that held his shawl in place. “This is the least I can do.” The fabric fell from Nechum’s shoulders, revealing a water skin he had slung under his arm. Setting the shawl aside, Nechum took the skin and unscrewed the cap. He tipped it over the shawl. Crystal drops from the River of Life itself trickled out and dampened the cloth till it shimmered.
Nechum’s hands showed practiced skill as he then wrapped Jediah’s arm with the damp shawl. Jediah hissed. His arm stung terribly, but soon the herbed waters from the make-shift sling started their work. The moist fibers cooled his wounds. Jediah smiled to Nechum and mouthed a soft ‘thank you.’
Akela passed through the intersection in a golden flash, then double backed. He panted, leaning with one hand against the wall. Scratches peppered his face. “Finally. I found somebody. Yay.” He raised a fist in weak triumph. “Sorry for being late. Navigating this tangled mess is a nightmare.”
Jediah closed his eyes and thudded his head against the wall. He did not want to hear about it.