devil 03 - tween hearts fire and devils delight by sam cheever Page A

made no sound at all and, although I peered closely at her thin chest I could see no signs of breathing. Her skin glowed softly.
    By contrast, Flick wheezed behind me and snorted, trying to pull air into his clogged and crusty nose. I winced, turning to him. “Go back to your cloud. I’ll call you when I’m done here.”
    He nodded gratefully and popped off.
    I stood silently, looking around. The room was dark, with the only light coming from the figure in the center of the room. I could make out the mundane shapes of furniture in the shadows but no windows and only one door in the room. The walls were empty of adornments.
    Prophets have no need of windows or pretty things. Their vision is totally internal.
    “Mx. Phelps. You straddle the forks of prophecy.”
    I frowned. What could I say to that?
    “Prophecy represents you heavily. Were you aware of that?”
    “I’m afraid so.”
    She lowered her head and opened her eyes. I’d been in the presence of a prophet one other time, when I was pretty young, so I didn’t jump as her swirling silver eyes met mine. But I did need to repress a shiver.
    “Around you spins a maelstrom.”
    “Tell me about it,” I murmured.
    “The maelstrom beats against the world’s edges.”
    “What does that mean?”
    The prophet ignored me as only a prophet can.
    “Evil taints your life and touches all you love.”
    This was beginning to feel like a bad palm reading.
    She stopped suddenly and laughed. “But enough about you.”
    I jerked in surprise.
    Amazingly, she smiled at me.
    I frowned. “So you were just jerking my chain?”
    She shook her head, blonde hair, wispy like dandelion seeds, flew around her extremely thin shoulders. “No, it was all true.”
    My frown deepened into a scowl. “You have a strange sense of humor.”
    Her smile widened. “I do, don’t I? You aren’t the first to speak of it.” She held out a hand, indicating a large pillow on the floor in front of her. “Sit.” Then she added, “Please?” With a gentle smile.
    I sat but the scowl stayed on my face. I had a feeling I’d be needing it again.
    She sighed and looked toward me with those blind, swirling eyes. “What we must speak of here is grave, Astra Q Phelps. I have worked many weeks in an attempt to find a fork that could be engaged to pull us back from where we are headed. I’ve yet to find an answer.”
    See, I knew I’d need that scowl. “Tell me where we’re headed then.”
    “Millennia ago, before mankind walked the Earth, a dark and magic force ruled life there. It was a violent force, filled with hateful beings whose main joy was in the destruction of all things. Such destructive tendencies must of course bring the end of any era. As it did then. When the world below became so debauched that it could no longer be borne, He sent His army to deal with it.”
    “It was eradicated?”
    She swung the dandelion seeds again. “No. As with all things magical it could not be completely eradicated. It retained a pinprick of existence, which the celestial army locked away for all time.”
    I heard a giant “but” coming, so I decided to head it off at the proverbial fork. “But it escaped didn’t it?”
    She focused those eyes on me, making me grow cold.
    “I’m afraid it’s worse than that. It was carried out by one who should have known better. He has nurtured it quietly since that time, releasing tendrils of it when the opportunity arose.”
    I felt myself go cold. Satan. “Releasing it? How, when?”
    “The first tendril touched the Earth during the great wars.”
    “Shit!”
    She nodded. “Yes, demons and gargoyles brought it in unknowingly, in his service.”
    “What is this thing exactly?”
    She sighed. “It is the core of what magic used to be. It has been horribly twisted. All that is good about magic was wrung from it millennia ago. It is food for the dark mind and poison for all that is good and non-magical.”
    I frowned. “So that’s what’s getting the humans