ART BY MICHAL ŠTEFLOVIČ JANG! JANG! JANG! RANG THE HAMMERS IN THE RAIN. JANG! JANG! JANG! CLANGED THE LINKS OF BLOODY CHAIN. JANG! BANGED THE BOOMERANG BOUNCING IN HER BRAIN. JANG! SANG THE KANGAROO— Something touched her shoulder. In a fever dream of manacles and red rock, Naoko surged upward, grabbing for the throat. The intruder gagged, falling back, and she took him to the floor. “Naoko,” he choked, patting weakly at her arms. “It’s me, it’s Ten.” She blinked, finally seeing the tufted ears and eyebrows of her fae friend in the lamplight from the hallway. “Sorry,” she said, letting him go and slumping back against the bed. She had hoped a few hours sleep would improve her condition, but this was emphatically not the case. Her body ached from pores to marrow, and her skull was throbbing like it would explode. “What the fuck, dude? Probably best that we never slept together.” JANG! JANG! JANG!— “Shut up,” she whispered, a shiver running through her. “What?” Ten asked, staring. “You asked me to wake you up when it got dark. Well, it’s dark. And I think— ” “Shhh,” she pleaded. JANG! BANGED THE BOOMERANG— “Are you okay? You look bad. You want me to get you anything? I think there’s some— ” JANG! SANG THE KANGAROO— “Quiet!” she snapped. “Please! Just for a second!” And finally Ten shut up. Deliberately, in that interval, head bowed, she silently intoned: Om ah hum vajra guru padma siddhi hum. Mystic syllables to ward off demons. No. 142 She repeated the mantra again, felt her head clear a little. Whenever the children’s rhyme started pulling her back, she countered with the mantra, a trick she’d learned years ago to ward off psychic attacks. “You’re acting crazy,” Ten said finally. “I’m not crazy,” she yelled, orange eyes flashing. “I’m not crazy,” she repeated, less crazily this time. “I just ... have unusual problems.” He slowly nodded. “Want to tell me about it?” “It’s safer if I don’t. But listen, if you see anything strange, let me know, okay?” He chewed on this. “We’re about to descend into a war in Hell. Beelzebub and King Rat are going to cross the Styx and assault the inner circles, while Moloch, Lura Vyre and Lucifer himself, for all I know, prepare to rain fire on anything that reaches the farther shore. What, exactly, would qualify as strange?” “Just anything ... Australian.” Bafflement. “You’re a fucking nut, you know that?” —DRIVING HER INSANE, came the thought, completing the rhyme. “I’m not crazy,” she said again, and silently mouthed the mantra. • • • Hell was hot, but she felt cold and clammy as they descended the winding, irregular stone staircase of Echelos to the Third Circle. She still trusted — well, hoped — that her mostly human genes would fight off the bloodrot, a demonic virus that had decimated the city’s population, but entering a battle with muscles quivering and chills sweeping through her may have been her stupidest idea to date. But Aobozu, the monk she’d been pursuing these last three days, would most likely also be trying to cross the river now, with the kidnapped boy, Robbie Radner, in tow. Whatever lay in store for the kid
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