Devdan Manor Read online

  “Starting small, clever,” Ozais mumbled.

  Ryse jumped in front of them. She drew symbols in the air with her hand. The doll screamed. Cyl felt the sound everywhere. It dominated his senses. The room shook. The floor moved from under his feet.

  The doll vanished into silver dust. Everything went quiet.

  Cyl got to his feet. He wasn’t the only one.

  Ozais clapped his hands. The sound was louder than Cyl needed it to be.

  “You might last longer than the others.”

  “What is going on?” Nuall asked.

  At least she found her voice. Cyl was still trying to wrap his mind around that doll. Demons possessed objects to scare humans. He had never been on the receiving end of a haunting. He didn’t care for it.

  “This house has trapped many demons here. After centuries of roaming these halls without bodies, they’ve grown bored. When the house brings in new prisoners, they torture the new demons as entertainment.”

  “Is there a way out of here?” Uryl asked.

  Ozais huffed. “Of course not.” He pointed to the walls. “The wards keep you here. Even if you survived the void outside, you would fall forever. Right now, demons are taking bets on how you’re going to die. Starvation or suicide. The demons here can haunt you, hurt you. They aren’t strong enough to kill you.”

  Ozais shouldn’t sound so happy about this. His jovial, playful, tone was far more unnerving than the doll. He could at least pretend to be somber.

  “This is annoying.” Nuall bowed her head in her heads. “What do we do now?”

  They turned to Uryl. He sighed.

  “I doubt this house has given us anything we can use. If there is a way to get out, Ozais would know about it. First, we should get a handle on our battle field and see if we can determine what those symbols means.”

  Leave it to Uryl.

  Ozais clapped his hands again. “I like you. Demons are not accustomed to being haunted. Most go into a panic when they learn they’re trapped in a house full of demons who want to torment them. Others became enraged. They waste their power and strength trying to demolish the house. Why aren’t you afraid?”

  Cyl shrugged. “We aren’t going to be stuck here. I will find some way to, at least, free Ryse.”

  Ozais jabbed his finger at them. “That’s what makes you different. Most demons were trapped here alone or with others they didn’t know well. I don’t believe we’ve ever had a group of siblings and good friends.”

  Nuall rubbed her chin. “Interesting. The house relies on fear and isolation to break down the prisoners. That’s clever.”

  “Good. They aren’t as dim as they look,” Ozais murmured. “Strange, pretty demons are usually stupid.”

  Nuall rolled her shoulders and turned her back to Ozais. Cyl shrugged. He heard that insult before.

  Uryl dug into his bag, drew out a pen and handed it to Ryse.

  “Draw a protective circle. A big one. When she’s done, we’ll empty our bags to take stock of what we have.”

  “Checking supplies, a boring move,” Ozais muttered.

  Ryse drew. The house screamed, cackled and moaned. The room quaked. The bed screeched across the room. Ryse swore more than Cyl would’ve liked. She wasn’t used to drawing on moving floors and kept making mistakes.

  The noise stopped. The only sound was Ryse’s pen skating across the wood. She stopped.

  “Keep drawing,” Uryl snapped.

  Ryse went back to work.

  Hundreds of faces appeared around them- treating the walls like rubber. The shapes were skeletal with eyes and mouths of odd shapes. They showed anger, fear, desperation, hunger, glee. The faces were everywhere— even under their feet.

  “How many demons did this house eat?” Cyl asked.

  Ozais shrugged as he played with his nails.

  “Why did the spicy Antun think I would answer that?” Ozais grumbled.

  Spicy?

  Faces swam under Cyl’s feet, pushed against the floor. Only, the wood felt solid. It didn’t feel like a pool of dead faces.

  Nuall walked to the center of the room. She laced her fingers together, bowed her head and chanted. Her words came out too low and too fast for Cyl to understand. The faces retreated.

  Nuall stopped chanting. Ryse finished the circle.

  “You cannot be older than fifty,” Ozais said. His face lost all glee. He appeared annoyed and concerned. “What sort of life did you live to be so well versed in protection and dispelling rituals.”

  Cyl had no intention of answering that.

  Nuall dropped her hands. She locked Ozais with hard eyes. “What makes you think we would answer that?”

  Most of the time, Nuall acted like a spoiled child. When she became serious or when someone scraped her nerves, she took on a demeanor that could command armies. She didn’t show this side of herself often because her family assaulted her with words whenever she decided to command the room.

  Nuall winced. She dropped her shoulders and vacated the middle of the room.

  “Antun and Otav were not power demons. Why is this generation so impressive?” Ozais folded his arms and frowned. “Could it be due to the Ancient blood inside you?”

  “Before we continue this conversation,” Uryl said, placing his bag in the middle of Ryse’s circle. “Empty your bags.”

  “What do you mean by Ancient blood?” Cyl asked as he sat beside Nuall, placing his bag in front of him.

  Ozais didn’t join them on the floor.

  A scraping sound.

  It came from the hall.

  A foot stomped. The floor groaned.

  A high-pitched shriek accompanied it as the scraping object attacked the wood.

  Another stomp.

  It approached the room.

  The sound of a heavy object being pushed across a wood floor. From the footsteps, the demons had to be at least seven feet and made of bricks.

  The wood floor didn’t like supporting it or whatever it was pushing. The sound moved closer.

  Cyl couldn’t smell the demon. He couldn’t sense its intent. According to everything but his ears, the hallway was empty. How did humans live like this?

  “We need to do this quickly before they figure out a way around Nuall and Ryse’s spells,” Uryl said placing his bottles of water beside his clothes.

  Cyl had anticipated being on the road for days while other demons refused him help. He had packed more food and supplies than clothing. The others had packed with the same idea. Although Nuall lived in wealth, she never cared about clothing. She dressed the way her family wanted. When she was relaxed, she dressed like a beggar or a low-ranked demon. Another thing her family chastised her about.

  The heavy object and the stomping stopped outside the room. The door crashed open, flying from the wall. It slammed into the barrier. The door hung in mid-air. The barrier attacked. The door turned to wood chips.

  The hall was empty.

  They waited. Only silence. He couldn’t sense anything.

  This was getting old.

  “That was a little over-dramatic,” Ozais muttered.

  Nuall elbowed Cyl then jerked her head in Ozais’ direction. She no longer needed her family to make her feel ashamed of her behavior. She wouldn’t talk for a while.

  “About this Ancient blood.” Cyl said.

  Ozais nodded. A hint of the jovial version peeked through his frown.

  “When I was a part of this world, I spent a great deal of time traveling to uncharted areas to collect rare items. I often stumbled upon the resting places of Ancient Ones. They went into hiding for reasons they wouldn’t tell me. They enjoyed their new life of resting and no responsibility. I know their blood and you four have a lot of it in you.”

  “How can you smell us? We can’t sense anything,” Uryl asked
.

  “You will. Your senses aren’t gone. They’ve been reduced to a level you are not used to. Be here long enough and your senses will return. They’ll never be as strong as you’re used to.” Ozais pushed off the wall and sat inside the circle. “I don’t understand how your family would’ve come into contact with them. The Ancient Ones didn’t like being bothered. They would never allow anyone to touch them. They had no desire to breed anymore.”

  They lined up the food and supplies. They could stay alive in here for about a month. Cyl didn’t expect to be here that long. Did this house have running water? A bathroom? They needed to find out. Sleeping may be an issue. The demons here would never let them rest. At least not long enough to regain their strength.

  They ate some dry meat and bread and drank water. Ryse wasn’t hungry yet. Even Ozais tasted some of their food.

  “These new demons have so little pride in themselves that they try to emulate humans. Their food, thankfully, has not suffered from their weakness,” Ozais whispered.

  Still not as bad as his first offense. Cyl ignored Ozais. Nuall didn’t even look up from her food.

  “How did you get your body back when the others seem unable to?” Cyl asked Ozais.

  “Our bodies are here. In that dark place outside. If we can dive into it without having our souls destroyed, we can get our bodies back. We need a body to break through the house. In the past, some demons have gotten their bodies back but still couldn’t leave. Eventually, they abandoned their physical form. In the solid form, you need to eat, sleep and release waste. In that form, you become the target for bored demons.”

  “Will we encounter demons in their physical form?” Uryl asked.

  “Most don’t. You four might drive the demons to make an appearance,” Ozais said with more excitement than necessary.

  Nuall rolled her eyes. “Fantastic,” she said dryly.

  Uryl examined the hall. “We need to leave the barrier. I’m worried what will happen when we do. We cannot sense attacks or demons approaching. We could be surrounded.”

  Uryl was never known for being comforting.

  “Who will attack first?” Ozais muttered. “Rome likes his games and he’s even smarter than the mute child. Nur, she’s faster and likes the sight of blood. She should be first. How long would she take to make them scream? It’s been ages since I heard a good scream.”

  If only Cyl could burn out Ozais’ tongue and seal his mouth shut. That would be a waste of power.

  Cyl could have a blade at his shoulder and never know it. What if some clawed six-legged demon sat behind him waiting to dive its arm-length teeth into his flesh? At least humans had the luxury of not knowing how debased some demons appeared. Cyl had once ran into a seven-foot demon with mouths on his chest and shoulders filled with teeth shaped like sharpened bones. It talked out of all its mouths.

  Most humans didn’t know a demon’s true power. He did.

  These trapped demons could hurt, not kill them. He should take comfort in that. He didn’t. His school had taken a trip to a prison. Teachers made them watch demons get tortured. Cyl would rather die than have Ryse, Uryl and Nuall suffer through that.

  Uryl strapped his bag in front of his chest and turned his back to Ryse. She shouldered her own bag and climbed on his back. Uryl stood.

  “Shields up. Keep your lights on. Stay close. We can’t see in this damn darkness. If you get separated, you should pray those demons find you before I do.”

  They packed their bags and stood.

  “Ozais,” Uryl said. “You can sense the demons. I know you’re here to see how long we last, but you should help us. Are there any in this room?”

  Ozais brushed his pants off moving as though his bones were made of steel. He crawled to his feet then stood. He stretched his arms over his head.

  “We’re surrounded. I sense about twenty. More are waiting outside.”

  “Ryse,” Uryl said. “We need books. If you can hear them, tell us and lead us.”

  “Where are we going?” Nuall asked.

  “Down. Demons like to work in the basement.”

  Ozais snorted. “Do you really believe the demons who created this would leave spells prisoners can undo?”

  Uryl sneered. “I doubt the demons who created this intended to trap four beings like us.”

  Ozais tipped his head.

  They stepped out of the circle. Nothing happened. As expected. These demons would play with them until they got bored then, they would attack. For now, they were just being haunted.

  They walked out of the bedroom and into a theatre. They stood at the top looking down at rows of red wooden seats leading to an old stage. The marks were carved into the ceiling. The arrangement of the words were more purposeful here. They created a shape. Cyl couldn’t see enough of the ceiling to tell what the shape was. It could be art. The fixtures weren’t pointed here. The chandelier were made of a blue clear crystal he had never seen before. The light those things cast must’ve been striking. An ornate rusted banister led the way down the stairs. At the center of the room, the ceiling became a circular fanned arch.

  “Perfect,” Ozais whispered. “Time for more entertainment.”

  The stage had holes in the floor where time had eaten through. The thick curtains were blackened as though burned. Dozens of old ropes hung from the ceiling. This theatre must’ve been spectacular.

  The seat beside him folded down as though someone was sitting in it. The creaking wood was loud in the silence. More creaks followed as each seat around them folded down, and stayed down.

  “How many?” Nuall asked.

  “I’m not the only one fascinated by the newcomers,” Ozais sang.

  “Perfect,” Uryl grumbled.

  Cyl stood behind Uryl to protect Ryse.

  The audience clapped and cheered.

  “Trapped demons,” a raspy voice boomed from the stage. The audience went quiet. “The Ancient Ones have not walked this world in centuries.” A blinding light shone on the four of them. “Somehow, we have their direct off-spring in our presence.”

  The crowded awed. The lights went out.

  “In our world, power is everything. Our kings and queens weren’t given that title because of blood. They were more powerful than anyone. So why are these four children trapped in a house that punishes all abominations? They reek of neglect. They aren’t revered. These babies have become our toys.”

  The crowd cheered.

  “Do we need to hear the end of this speech?” Nuall whispered.

  “Do you think they’ll let us leave?” Uryl answered. “We might find some answers”

  “What happens after that?” Nuall snapped through gritted teeth. “They are not telling us this story because they’re being sweet.”

  “What are we supposed to do?” Uryl grumbled.

  “Be quiet.” The voice hissed from the stage.

  Uryl snorted. He turned and walked up the stairs. The floor shook. The banister rattled. The steps moved from under Uryl. He threw his arm out, gripping the banister and pushing himself away.

  Ryse jumped off his back. Uryl fell forward. The floor stopped shaking.

  “It’s rude to leave before the play has ended.”

  “Saine doesn’t like to be interrupt,” Ozais muttered. “They should agitate him some more. I could convince them to leave or push them out.”

  If Ozais tried that, Cyl would kill him.

  Uryl got to his feet. Ryse wrapped her arms around Cyl’s thighs.

  “You know children,” the voice was so deep the room rumbled. “The house does not care why you committed the atrocity. It doesn’t care that I was forced to help two families summon and trap a powerful demon so the females could mount it.”

  Nuall whistled. “A bored demon with a grudge. Perfect.”

  “More than one,” th
e voice answered. “The Antun and the Otavs needed much power to summon that demon.”

  Cyl turned to Ozais.

  “You could have warned us half the demons here hate our family.”

  Ozais shrugged. “Why would I? This is much more fun. Besides, it is true your families took sport in trapping powerful demons. I never knew them to summon Ancient Ones.”

  Ozais could’ve let that useful bit of information out through all his mumbling.

  ‘What is this house?” Nuall snapped.

  “Excellent question.” The voice said. “Centuries ago, a group of demons created this house. We still don’t know why or when. It goes after any demons it believes sullied our world.”

  “Then why isn’t every demon in here,” Nuall mumbled.

  She needed to learn to keep her mouth shut. She didn’t need to pick up Ozais’ habit.

  Black mold erupted on stage. It devoured the curtains. It crawled out the ceiling—rotting anything it touched. The rusted banister dropped to a pile of ash. Cyl pulled back from the balcony banister. Pieces of it dropped into the seat below. Black dust from the aging chandeliers rained down on them.

  “Time to go.” Uryl backed away.

  Cyl picked up Ryse and followed.

  The floor dropped from under Nuall. She fell. She managed to slow her decent. She landed without making more holes.

  “There’s another way out,” she called.

  Burned holes opened in the seats and stairs. Cyl didn’t trust them.

  He jumped through the hole Nuall fell through. Uryl and Ozais followed.

  They raced from the theatre into what looked like an enclosed courtyard. The door slammed behind them. Cyl needed to see. He opened the door. Instead of a dying theatre, thick fog and a forest full of dark twisted trees spread out before them. Shadows bloomed like tall weeds. Each shaped like a demon—the ones that couldn’t pass as human. Some stood as tall as the trees. Other were no taller than his knee. They dominated this dark forest. White fog weaved between them. The trees’ twisted limbs swayed. They reached for the shadows. One appeared before Cyl. Too close. Tortured faces and arms reached through the shadowy body. Trapped souls. The mouths hung open in agony. The eye sockets were curled with glee.