Spirit Tree (Part 4)

I couldn't believe my ears. Neither could Jake, since his cheeks turned blotchy.

I studied Zachary to see if he was serious. He looked serious. Cold and detached, and I suddenly couldn't feel him anymore. Like he meant it.

I bit my lip. Looked like there was another relationship in my life that I couldn't trust. Ditched by my best friend in sixth grade, ditched by my aunt. Ditched by my sister and my mother... and now Zachary was offering me up as demon food in exchange for his own backside.

Monster Jacobus smiled coldly. "That might lengthen my sentence, but you realize you'll still take her place in the end."

Zachary shrugged. "Rae is tough. By the time she's sucked dry, I'll have had my family and be an old man. I'll come take her place then, as pennance for my rashness."

Jake's smile lengthened. "Very well. I was hoping to draw on the power of your connection, but the anger that comes from a broken heart is more powerful still. I accept your ransom."

"Wait," I said, "I don't agree to this." I glared at Zachary. "You jerk." I slammed my heel down on his foot and his eyes grew wide and glassy.

He lurched past Jake in the direction of the altar, and then everything went kind of haywire.

Zachary caught himself against the stone and the bracelets and miscellanea slid off the altar. The ghosts swarmed him, catching at their possessions. A brilliant glow lit the cavern as each soul rejoined with their ransom. They all looked so... happy.

The spirits blinked out, and my reality crashed down on my head. I drowned out Jake's protest with my shriek. "What are you doing? Those were my ancestors. Are you trying to make me the loneliest chick on the planet?"

"Give your mom the ring," he called.

I froze.

And that was our undoing, because another earthquake the size of the Carolinas shook the chamber and a bunch of dirt rained down into my face. But that wasn't the scary part. The scary part was the gigantic rocky hand that grew out of the new crack in the altar and lit the room with flame.

"You'll still have a few companions left," Jake laughed behind me. He wrapped my ponytail into a tight ball in his fist and yanked my head back so I was looking down my nose at the growing apparition. "Say hello to your next meal, Dagon," he said.

"Excuse me?" I asked.

"Rachel, meet the baker of Hell."

He did know my name.

"Baker?" I said, blowing dirt out of my face. "We've come to an all-time low in demon summoning."

Jake yanked on my ponytail. "Not at all. Dagon's specialty are the fresh souls he feeds to Beelzebub for his Sabbath dinner. Not that you will have that honor. Dagon takes a bit of energy to keep his own creative appetite humming. In return for your energy, he will grant me a percentage of your soul's power."

"You could have been an accountant," I said, as the rest of the demon jumped down off the altar. The figure was smaller than I'd imagined from the size of the hand. He was a canny match with Jake almost, as if Jake and the demon camped together inside Hell's oven. The demon wasn't so much bubbled lava rock as a conglomeration of scars and blisters and nasty burns. One eye squinted and the other just wasn't there anymore.

The demon made a disgusting choking noise. "Double the feast?"

"I tried," Jake said, "but the one offered the other. She's angry, though. She should last a long time."

"Looks like you'll have to wait a little longer for your escapade," Dagon grunted, and Jake grunted in return. Grunt must be their secret buddy language.

"You know, I didn't agree to this," I said again, trying not to wince as I pulled my head forward. Jake--or was it the demon?--smelled disgusting. He kept his grip on my hair tight.

The demon chuckled. "It doesn't matter. You are here. Bring her to me."

Jake stepped forward and I stumbled along with him. Zachary crawled from where he'd huddled out the dirt storm and stretched out a palm.

"Shouldn't she be my offering?" he asked coldly.

I gave him my most withering look and stepped past him, but Jake pulled my leash.

"Technically, yes," he said. "But after that little stunt of yours, I don't believe I can trust you. Insignificant as it was."

"The demon can't accept her unless the ransom comes from me. How else am I supposed to get out of here?" He sounded whiny. I'd never heard him sound whiny before.

"True. Very well, you may take her to the altar." He let out a burst of noise. "Take her to the altar, get it?" He laughed as though it were uproariously funny. "Mrs. Corman," he called, "come and watch your daughter take her vows."

My mother floated between Zachary and I, looking so thin she was going to disappear any second. Her face looked utterly disapproving... and desperate. A glow of anger warmed me--anger at her frailty, anger that if she stretched any finger to help, the juice would be sucked from her. I couldn't let Dagon get to her first. We still had words to say, she and I.

"Get out of the way, Mama," I said, as Zachary grabbed at the chain around my neck and yanked me forward. I eyed daggers at him. He tugged harder so the chain left a practically permanent line on the back of my neck.

I wasn't that dense, I knew he wanted me to give it to her. But if I was going to spend a lifetime down here, I wanted a heart-to-heart with my mama before she disappeared forever. Or at least some advice.

I'd gotten over mourning, remember?

I stopped in my tracks and Zachary raised his eyebrows. I took the opportunity to stamp my heel on his other foot. He tumbled over, releasing me, and I straightened my back with dignity.

"By your own rules," I announced loudly, "I get to offer my own ransom."