well, my dear, and you'll be ready for action by morning.
Laufeyson had taken the Mademoiselle aside to discuss the details of their journey. Uneasy at being excluded, De la Roca almost called the whole thing off. Then again, she had Bluot , and Alsvior, and over three centuries of experience killing some of the wickedest creatures ever manifested into existence.
They set off, mounted, in the predawn, the first tendrils of pink gently worming across the sky. By the time they reached the base of a series of rolling hills, it was midmorning. They had ridden the horses hard, and the mounts were sweating from the exertion—except, of course, for Alsvior.
"We should go on foot from here. The ground is treacherous and riddled with holes. It would be too easy for a horse to break a leg." Laufeyson dismounted and waited while the others did the same. He motioned at a peak that stood taller than the rest.
They threaded, Indian-file, up the mountain. It was beautiful, a vertical tapestry of painted bands that shone in the sun, and De la Roca wondered how anything as evil as a demon could make such a place its home.
During the trip, Laufeyson and the Mademoiselle continued to speak in whispers. Their amicable camaraderie irritated De la Roca to no end. She was grateful when they reached the top, more for the chance to get away from them than anything else, but when she finally arrived, her breath caught in her throat.
"What is it?" She felt the Mademoiselle's gentle hand on her shoulder.
"It's just—I've roamed this earth for three centuries. I've hacked through jungles, climbed mountains, crossed deserts . . . I've ridden over every bridge and valley and coastline . . ." She trailed off, unable to complete the thought.
The Mademoiselle gave her a nod. "Yes, this is special."
De la Roca had never seen anything as beautiful as the mesa that stretched out before her, the painted bands of rock burning pink and orange in the setting sun. A lake rested in the middle, its crystalline waters reflecting the figures of the three travelers against a backdrop of rose and purple sky.
"Sometimes," said Laufeyson, "Earth surprises me even still. I have traveled through the depths of Hell and the heights of Heaven, and through many other worlds that do not even have names in this language. And yet, this kind of beauty is so rare that it makes me almost believe that this world was a gift to its inhabitants, a place of refuge from some other terrible land." He paused, flicking his fingers just enough to manifest and light a cigarette. "But even here, it is ethereal. The sun will set and the night will be cloudy, and then this place shall be indistinguishable from everything around it." He opened his arms wide, as if in invitation. "Welcome," he said, "to the Phoenix Well."
Eleven
" W e should start in the morning." De la Roca brushed Alsvior by the fire. He didn't truly need it, for his coat would come clean again as soon as he transformed, but the touch somehow bonded them together. They always fought better on days after she groomed him.
Laufeyson and the Mademoiselle had just finished debriefing her. Neither claimed to know much about the nature of the demon they hunted.
"It does not matter," said Laufeyson. As he spoke, he walked toward De la Roca, until he eventually stood next to her under the overhang. He had cautioned her of the need for protection from the elements, even though the sky was as clear as glass. And I obliged you, didn't I? So why won't you shut up?
"To create a realm takes immense power. I doubt that any demon would be strong enough to make one much larger than a shopping mall. As such, there will be no sun, no daylight, no cycle of time and warmth. In fact, you may not want to bring Alsvior; it could be pretty crowded in there."
Alsvior chuffed once and immediately transformed into a horse no larger