Holy Smokes Read online

  “You are the one holding the title of Venediger,” Traci pointed out, making me close my eyes as I tried to block out the horror of the truth. “I am simply acting on your behalf. Therefore, it falls to you to conduct the actual challenge, not me.”

  “This is what you were trying to tell me the other day, isn’t it?” I asked, swearing at myself.

  “It is.”

  I opened my eyes, glancing with longing at the bed. There was nothing more I wanted at that moment than to crawl back into it, pull the covers over my head, and block out the world. “Right. Lesson learned: don’t assume you know what a minion is thinking. What horrible event have you set up for me as the challenge? Dueling pistols? Swords? I really could do without being skewered again. The dragon doctor said the baby wasn’t hurt by the last sword someone jammed through me, but I’d like to not risk that again.”

  Traci’s face took on a shocked appearance. “My lord, I would not arrange for you to participate in an event that put you in danger of physical harm.”

  “Oh,” I said, mollified. “Well, thank you. I appreciate that. What form will the challenge take?”

  An odd expression stole over the demon’s face, one of mingled embarrassment and discomfort. “It was not easy to get the mage Jovana to agree to a form of challenge that would not harm you, my lord.”

  “Uh-huh. What did you settle on?”

  Traci pointed to Jim. “It was Effrijim’s idea. I asked it what sorts of skills you had, thinking to use that as a basis for a challenge that you would be comfortable with.”

  I turned my attention on Jim, starting to get worried.

  Nerves shot? Love life got you down? Heinous challenge for superiority on the horizon? Have we got the product for you! Try new and improved Dark Power for the solution to all the pesky problems in your life!

  “It wasn’t easy, let me tell you,” Jim said, meeting my gaze without flinching in the least. “I mean, you could hardly have a challenge based on eating a whole box of chocolate-covered Oreos without once ralphing, could you?”

  I made a face at it.

  “Or balancing a spoon on the end of your nose.”

  “Hey now! That’s very difficult to do!” I protested.

  “Yuh-huh. I did think of the one thing you’ve gotten really good at of late.”

  “Castration with just one glance?” I asked sweetly.

  “Boinking Drake. But I figured you wouldn’t want the mage having her shot at him, in case, you know, she was better at it than you.”

  I narrowed my eyes at the demon. “You are perilously close to eunuchdom, dog. What did you tell Traci to use as the challenge?”

  “Dragon’s Lair.”

  I blinked a couple of times, hoping against hope it would clear the obvious problem in my hearing. “What?”

  “Dragon’s Lair. You know, the arcade game? Your uncle says you were addicted to it when you were younger.”

  “She played it night and day,” Uncle Damian said, nodding. “Couldn’t get her away from the damned arcade place for a good two years. Had to threaten to send her to one of those cult detox places before she stopped playing.”

  “I was in college!” I told him. “Everyone played it!”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “Yeah, so I figured if you were Miss Dragon’s Lair, then you were probably pretty good at it,” Jim finished. “So I told Traci to try that.”

  Traci nodded. “The mage didn’t want to accept it as a form of challenge, feeling the more traditional fight to the death was in line with the importance of the position, but when I pointed out to her that you had hundreds of thou sands of demons who would avenge you if need be, she decided to withdraw the lethality requirement of the challenge.”

  “You’re getting a raise,” I told the steward.

  It smiled modestly. “I do my best to serve you in all things, Lord Aisling.”

  And so it was that a half hour later, I found myself at a familiar machine, my hands caressing the familiar lines of the sleek black plastic as the jaunty little Dragon’s Lair tune burbled happily around us.

  The mage, Jovana, was a serious-looking woman with a pageboy cut and dark power suit that all but reeked professional. I offered her my hand when we met; she just looked at it as if I was still holding the repulsive bit of demon flesh.

  “I do not touch others,” she said curtly without the least hint of apology. “It upsets my psyche.”

  “Ah. Sorry. So, best two out of three high scores wins?”

  She nodded, her mouth a thin slash in her white face. “I wish to formally protest the method of this challenge. It does not represent in the least the importance of the position, a position I understand you have not even undertaken to conduct yourself.”

  “There’ve been a few things going on in my life lately,” I said by way of an explanation.

  Her expression was frozen. “I suppose you are aware that the members of the L’au-delà have given me their full support.”

  “No, but I’m glad to hear it. That bodes well,” I answered with cheerful sangfroid.

  She looked disconcerted for all of a second; then her haughty expression returned. “When I take over the position, I intend to amend the laws governing Venediger to ensure that no one like you is ever allowed to take control again.”

  “Sounds good,” I said, glancing at my watch. “Would you mind if we hurried things up a bit? There’s something really important I have to do, and I’d like to get cracking on it as soon as possible.”

  The three members of the Parisian Otherworld who accompanied her, acting as witnesses to the challenge, gasped in surprise.

  “You would so mock this position?” Jovana asked, her dark eyes blazing. “Do you have so little respect for it?”

  I crossed my arms. “The last Venediger tried to have me tossed in jail on murder charges. And kill me. You’re going to have to forgive me if I’m not overly enamored with the job.”

  Fury lashed out from her as she gripped the machine next to mine. “You will rue the day you ever mocked the title Venediger, Aisling Grey.”

  “Whatever,” I said, plopping a coin into my machine.

  It didn’t take long for me to lose two games.

  “It would have been faster if you hadn’t won the first round,” Jim said in a whisper.

  “I lost my head. I forgot for a few minutes what I was doing,” I answered.

  “Aisling Grey, you have lost the challenge for the position of Venediger of the L’au-delà!” Jovana said in a loud, piercing voice that echoed through the empty arcade. “It is my right and duty to so proclaim myself Venediger!”

  “Congrats. Knock yourself out. Thanks for coming along,” I turned from Jovana to tell the three witnesses, who were huddled together. The two men and one woman had watched me warily the whole time, as if they expected me to burst out in hellfire and brimstone at any moment.

  “Kneel before me, Aisling Grey,” Jovana ordered, pointing to the floor in front of her.

  “Uh…I think I’ll pass on the groveling bit. You won fair and square. Congratulations and all that, but I really do have to be going.”

  “Kneel!” she yelled, pointing.

  I slid a glance at Traci. “Do I have to?”

  It shrugged. “It is part of the ceremony.”

  “Great.” I sighed heavily, then knelt before Jovana, just wanting to get the whole thing over with.

  “Swear your fealty to me,” she said, holding out her hand so I could kiss it.

  I raised both eyebrows. “Oh, I don’t think so.”

  Anger bristled off her. “You must! Since we did not fight to the death, you must swear fealty to me.”

  I sighed again. “Traci?”

  “My lord, there are precedents. If a defender is not killed by the challenger, it is traditional for the losing party to swear allegiance to the winner so as to avoid any further confrontations in the future.”

  “You must swear fealty to me,” Jovana said in a voice that
was beginning to strike me as officious and annoying.

  “Well, I can’t, OK? I already swore fealty to the green dragons. I can’t swear it to you, too.”

  “You must,” she said stubbornly, shaking her hand in front of my face.

  “You people really are single-minded,” I said, kneeling. “And Drake used to give me a hard time about seeing everything in black and white. If it will get you off my back and let me get out of here, I will swear my allegiance to you insofar as it doesn’t conflict with my allegiance to the green dragons, the Guardians’ Guild, or anything else I’m involved with that doesn’t have its origins in Abaddon.”

  She sputtered a couple of times as I gave the back of her hand a peck and stood up. “That is not a proper oath of fealty!”

  “It’s as good a one as you’re going to get,” I said, snapping a leash on Jim’s collar. “Right, Uncle Damian, Traci…let’s go.”

  “Go where?” Jim asked as we marched out of the arcade.

  “You have not heard the last of me!” Jovana yelled after us.

  “To find Drake,” I answered, waving my hand at her to let her know I heard.

  “I don’t believe he wants you to follow him,” Uncle Damian started to say, but I stopped him with a look.

  “That was before.”

  “Before?” he asked.

  “Before he sent a dragon, bird, lion, and tiger into my dreams.”

  Jim pursed its lips and blew out a whistle as we emerged from the arcade to the cold air of a January morning. “The wind horse.”

  “Yup.” I stopped on the sidewalk, admiring for a moment a tiny glimpse of peachy-red sky between buildings. Above the horizon, the sky deepened into darker blue, then finally indigo, a faint scattering of stars still visible. I wondered if Drake had seen that same sunrise, my heart tightening painfully at the thought. “Gentlemen, I hope you have some warm clothing. I understand Tibet in winter is a bit nippy.”

  13

  “I feel like I’ve just participated in a Star Trek episode,” Uncle Damian said.

  I shook my head to clear the muzziness, regretting the action when my temple collided with the sharp corner of a shelf next to me. “Ow! Star Trek? You mean one of the episodes when the Enterprise was being attacked, and everyone was shaken off of their seats?”

  “Who am I? Where am I? Do I still have all my toes? And why am I on top of a fridge?” Jim’s voice wafted down from above my head. I pushed myself away from the wall I was slouched against and looked over to where the demon was splayed out across the top of an ancient refrigerator.

  “No,” Uncle Damian answered my question, the word accompanied by the clatter of several metal pots and pans as they were shoved out of a low cupboard. He followed them, uncurling himself awkwardly from the cramped space. “I’m talking about how one of the characters always protested having his atoms beamed around the universe. I think I liked it better when we used an airplane.”

  “Sorry. There wasn’t time to get a flight and take care of visas and everything.”

  “Hrmph. I’ll take my chances with any dragons watching the airport next time, thank you.”

  “Rene?” I looked around the small room. Faint light was coming in via a dirty window, revealing our landing spot to be an untidy kitchen. “Has anyone seen Rene?”

  “I’m here,” his voice answered, muffled and somewhat strained. I peered around the room as Jim slid off the top of the refrigerator to land on the floor with an audible “Oof!”

  “Here where?”

  “Under the bags.”

  “Oh. You OK?” I asked as I pulled my two leather suitcases off of the mound of luggage that turned out to have a Rene core.

  “Oui. Although I, too, believe I will make my own way out of Tibet rather than use that portal company again,” he answered as I helped him to his feet. I dusted him off before shivering in the chill air of the room.

  “How many toes did I have when we left London, does anyone remember?” Jim asked, examining its feet. “I think one is missing.”

  “Stop fussing about a missing toe. We have more important things to focus on, like finding Drake and saving him from whatever trouble he’s in,” I answered, straightening my clothing and zipping up my heavy parka.

  “Oh, man, I am missing one! I know I had four on this foot! What sort of place was that company you used, demon-haters or something?”

  “Budget Teleporters is a perfectly good company. Didn’t you listen to their warning about keeping your arms and legs in the portal at all times? And although I admit the landing was a bit rougher than I had imagined it would be, we’re all here in one piece, and considering the red dragons are watching every normal portal channel, that means we’re one step ahead of the game.”

  “Does anyone else think it’s not going to be such a good idea to be just a stone’s throw from Chuan Ren and all the rest of the red dragons?” Jim grumbled, shaking out its fur and licking a spot on its shoulder.

  “You don’t have a choice, buster. Uncle Damian and Rene did, and they chose to come with me, so let’s keep the mutinous rumbles to a low din,” I answered, slinging a bag over my shoulder. I reached for the other piece, but Rene got to it before I did, with a meaningful glance at my midsection. “And this town is probably more safe than London since no one would expect us to come to Tibet in the first place.”

  “Uh-huh. Like we’re not going to stand out at all?”

  I straightened the demon’s drool bib with a tweak and strapped on the doggy coat I’d gotten it for the cold. “That’s what you think. Zhangmu is one of the towns mountain climbers visit before they hit Mount Everest, so the place is crawling with tourists. Now, stop complaining and lift your feet so I can put your doggy boots on.”

  “Now that we’re here, where are we going?” Uncle Damian asked, collecting the rest of the luggage as I got Jim cold weather–proofed.

  I pulled out a small notebook from my pocket. “Gabriel said he’d meet us at the Friendship Bridge. It’s a tourist spot about six miles out of town. Rene?”

  “I will find a car to rent, yes,” he said, giving us a brief salute before pulling on a hat and disappearing out the door.

  “And that’s another thing,” Jim complained, examining itself in the reflection from a cracked mirror. “How come you’re trusting Gabriel all of a sudden?”

  “I don’t really have a choice, do I? Drake is in trouble; he wouldn’t have been so cryptic in my dream if he wasn’t in trouble. The green dragons are all too busy coping with the attacks orchestrated by Chuan Ren to come on a rescue mission, even if it is for Drake, and I’ll be damned if I let Fiat know there’s trouble. Bastian is busy trying to reestablish his old contacts, and there’s no one at the Guardians’ Guild who can help me. Gabriel offered his help, so I took him up on it.”

  Jim didn’t say anything, but the look on its face just ramped up my worry. I turned to my uncle, who was checking over his gear. “What do you think of Gabriel? Is he trustworthy or not?”

  “Didn’t talk to him long enough to know for certain,” he answered. “Never trust anyone you haven’t known for a long time, that’s my policy.”

  “You trust Drake,” I pointed out. “You haven’t known him for more than a week.”

  “He’s different,” Uncle Damian said curtly.

  I smiled a sad, melancholy smile. “Yeah, he is. Damn his dragon hide. Why couldn’t he have told me where he was going? We only have Gabriel’s best guess to go on—we could be in the wrong place altogether.”

  Uncle Damian was saved from having to answer by the arrival of the owner of the kitchen, a short, squat woman who looked startled to see us there.

  We made our apologies as best as possible with our limited knowledge of Tibetan, finally resorting to shoving a wad of money in the woman’s hand before hauling our things outside. I slipped on the icy stone sidewalk, almost falling, but righted myself before I could bruise anything more than my dignity.

  “Holy cow! This place is wi
ld,” I said, wrapping my scarf tighter around the lower part of my face as I gazed at the expanse that spread out before me. My breath hung in the thin, cold air, the light from the sunny day almost blinding after emerging from the dim room. Red stone buildings intermingled with white, clinging to the side of a mountain, one long road winding back and forth up its steep slopes. The town was busy enough, even in the dead of winter, a bustling bazaar visible down the street. I turned to look in the other direction, down into a gorge. “It looks like one good earthquake will send the whole place sliding down into the valley there. Oooh, there’s Mount Everest! It’s so close. And big. Damn, I wish I had my camera.”

  “This is a rescue mission, not a tourist visit,” Uncle Damian said quietly, moving to the narrow street when a twenty-year-old VW van pulled up, Rene at the wheel.

  I was silent at that rebuke, although I didn’t need to be reminded of our purpose. I missed Drake. It felt like there was an empty spot in my soul that only he could fill, and al though we’d been separated occasionally the last month due to business concerns and arranging protection for sept members, he’d always stayed in touch, either by phone or, more rarely, by dream.

  By the time we made it out of the town and to the famous Friendship Bridge that connected Nepal to Tibet, spanning the Bhotekoshi River, I sat huddled in my coat, wishing like hell we were back in the London house, snuggled up together in bed while Drake told me stories of his childhood.

  “If wishes were horses, beggars would ride,” I said to myself, sighing.

  “I never understood that saying,” Jim said. “If I was a beggar, I’d wish for huge truckloads of money over a horse. And food. Lots and lots of food. Oh, sure, you can eat a horse, but then once it’s gone, you’ve got nothing left.”

  “What is it talking about?” Uncle Damian asked, giving Jim a look as if a penguin had suddenly appeared on the demon’s head.

  “Nothing. This looks like it, Rene. I bet that car over there is Gabriel’s. Bless him for being so prompt.”

  “Yeah. Let’s just hope it’s not a trap, and we won’t end up dead or worse out here in the middle of nowhere.”