Virgo's Vigilantes (The Zodiac Book 6), page 18
Bilba brightened. "Deal."
As if sensing the conversation needed a shift, Ralrek drew a deep breath. "Imagine, the Underworld of the future, where demons travel wherever they want thanks to Bilba's gateways."
"Do you know how unrealistic that is?" Bilba asked. "It takes a lot to open a gateway and keep it open. Even small ones for the three of us. Gateways that move dozens of demons? Gateways that permanently stay open?" He shook his head. "I know I'm a badass, but I can't imagine the power that requires."
"The Council has them," I said. "Look at the mass transit ones outside their headquarters. Look at how they moved us for boot camp. If they can do it, you will one day."
"They have teams of older casters. Powerful demons," he countered.
"You'll get there. Give it time."
"And practice," Ralrek chimed in.
"Why not teach others, so it's not always you who has to open one?" I asked. "Since yours are undetectable, show others how to do it. At least those you trust, I mean. Before you know it, demons will move about under the noses of the Council. If enough learn, there's no way the Council can control it. They're too distracted by screwing with the Overworld, and they don't have the resources to police hundreds, maybe thousands of demons opening gateways. How awesome would that be?" I added for humor's sake. "How funny would that be?" Call me passive-aggressive, but after being screwed by the Council as much is I had, I figured I earned it.
"I—I wouldn't be sure where or how to teach," Bilba admitted.
"Why don't you start with Ralrek? Teach him."
The pair looked at each other like a couple at a dinner party in the middle of an argument they didn't want anyone else to know about. I almost laughed. To be fair, Bilba and Ralrek make it easy.
"I don't know if he's teachable," Bilba said.
"I don't know if you're smart enough to be a teacher," Ralrek retorted.
I waved my fork at them. "I'm serious. Why not? Plus, having two of you who can do it would be helpful if something… happened. Is it that hard?"
"Do you see anyone else casting gateways and rifts besides the Council and the lucky few they allow to do it?" Bilba asked.
"Well… no, but if you figured it out, you had the skill to do it with no curse of Lucifer or formal training, so why wouldn't that be the same for others?" My fork rotated toward Ralrek. "He can cast powerful spells. He couldn't hit the side of a blazeball stadium if his life depended on it, but that doesn't make him incapable. I say he's worth it. Give it a go. Ralrek, would you do it?"
The tall demon shrugged. "Sure. Why not? If he could teach me, I'd go for it."
"Then let's try it," I said matter-of-factly. "Should we use the hallway?"
Bilba shook his head. "See? The problem with that is I've been working on mine for a long time, and it takes practice to maintain control of the spell. You just can't cast it recklessly or it could get out of hand. We need open space, more than you have in this apartment. When I was learning, I went deep into Eve's Sanctuary. Just in case Ralrek lost control, I wouldn't want you to explain to your landlord how your walls were torn open. So, unless you have a secret hideout I don't know about, we can't try it."
I snapped my fingers. "We could go to the park."
"The park? Sounds fun," Ralrek said.
"Don't be a douche," I said with a mischievous snort. A quick look out the kitchen window revealed darkness had gripped the Sixth Circle. "At this time of night, it should be empty, and it's only a few minutes away. Plus, I've only ever seen younger families with implings using it. We can check if it's deserted. If it is, would that work?"
Ralrek's lips pressed together. "I guess if there are any imps hanging out, thinking they're cool and trying to cause trouble, we can scare them away and give this a shot. I'm up for it."
I fist pumped. Unfortunately, it was with the hand holding my fork half–full of rice. Kernels flew into the air, landing on the table and, more hilariously, in Ralrek's hair. "Let's finish up and go then."
As he tried to pick them out, Ralrek said, "Opening gateways would be cool. We could double our efforts at finding the Horn. You said Azazel gave you coordinates where it might be, right?"
I dipped my head over my plate since my mouth was full. Cracking open the corner of my mouth, I said, "Yeah. He's not sure that's where it is, but it might be a hint to where it could be."
"That would make searching for it a lot easier," Bilba said. "If we knew where it was, and both of us could open gateways to the area, we might be able to snatch it without anyone noticing."
I pointed at the other room with my fork, this time not spilling any rice. "The problem is, I have no clue where to start or where to begin. I'm hardly an expert at reading coordinates, and I know neither of you are."
"There aren't any other clues?" Bilba said.
I shook my head. "Just coordinates. And I'm not the outdoorsy type. With everything else we've got going on, I don't know if this is easy to take on. It might be better to stick with one thing at a time, no matter how important the Horn is."
"The Horn is very important, Zeke," Bilba said in an ominous tone that belonged in a cheesy mortal horror movie. "I told you what I read. If the Horn is lost, we can't be sure angels aren't involved. If they hold the Horn and the Halo…"
"I know an incubus. Outdoorsy type. Real rugged. So, unlike you, Zeke," Ralrek said with a wink as he cut Bilba off with his sudden epiphany. "He might be able to help."
"Is he trustworthy?" I asked.
"Well, he's not the two of you, but—"
I didn't let Ralrek finish. "Oh my Lucifer, that is the sweetest thing you've ever said."
"Shut up, asshat," Ralrek said.
"There he is. Good old Ralrek," I said.
"Anyway, he is a good incubus," Ralrek said. "Plus, I don't think we need to tell him what we're looking for, just that we need his help finding these coordinates. He'd be down, if I can find him."
Bilba groaned. "Don't tell me he's lost too?"
"No, he's just the adventurous type," Ralrek said. "I know him from a bar. He's there whenever he's around. The problem is, he's not always because he's off on some adventure more times than not."
"From a bar you go to, huh? Is he another one of your toys?" I teased.
Bilba's fork clattered to his plate. "I thought you'd given up on dating for a while?"
Ralrek's tone flattened. "Trust me, I am. I've got no interest in seeing anyone. Torlan ruined incubi for me,"
This wasn't a topic he wanted to explore, so I denied myself the opportunity to take a good-natured jab at him and kept our discussion focused. "So you think he could help find it?"
"We don't have a ton of options, and if one incubus can help, it would be him," Ralrek said. "We just have to be patient because I never know when he's off on some excursion. But, I'll keep my eyes out. In the meantime, why don't we try to see if you can teach me how to open one of these things?"
I stood, swiping my plate from the table, and scraping it into the trash can. "No better time than the present, I say. Let's get going. No one is paying attention to the park."
We made the short trip. Just as I'd hoped, the park was empty, even of troubled imps looking to drink and smoke and fling their lives down the wrong path. We moved into the deepest reaches, where the street lamps burning blue with Hellfire faded into distant points of light.
"Be careful. We're going to snap an ankle. I can't see a blessed thing," Ralrek said.
"We're opening gateways, not doing wind sprints," Bilba said.
"Like you would know what a wind sprint was." Low blow, even for Ralrek.
"We did those in boot camp, remember?" Bilba was completely genuine.
"I tried to forget the army," I said, pointing off to the left. "What about over there?"
Honey locust trees lined the area. Mature enough to stand over forty feet tall, they were full, providing coverage from the side of the park. In my short time in the Sixth Circle, this spot was rarely used. Those few times were restricted to imps and their romantic adventures. No one would traipse across us when most demons were putting their little ones to bed, drinking away the stress of the day, or binge watching television.
"Looks perfect." Bilba squinted. "It gives us enough space for what we need. Let's try it."
"So how do we do this? Teach me, oh, sensei," Ralrek said, stuffing his hands in his pockets as if chilled against the air.
Bilba moved in front of the arc of honey locust. He held his hands up in the air, elbows bent at ninety-degree angles, palms facing forward. He looked like he'd just run face–first into an invisible wall.
"Opening a gateway or a rift is basically the same thing, but it requires a lot of focus. This park will come in handy." Bilba looked around. "I was reading up on the topic in a book from Melchiot's personal library. It described the way the ancients used to teach others to open gateways and rifts. Back then, travel was open to everyone, so they taught capable demons. From what I read, schools and community centers used to host group classes on how to do it. Crazy, right? Anyway, the key is clearing your mind of all distractions."
Ralrek groaned. "Don't tell me this is that weird woo-woo stuff?"
"No," Bilba snapped. "But you can't expect to do something this monumental if you don't have a clear mind. Ralrek, copy my stance."
"Seriously?"
Bilba glared at Ralrek. He plainly took casting gateways and rifts, and now training others how to do it, very seriously. "Yes," he replied, waiting.
With a huff, Ralrek stole my best friend's pose.
"Good. Now, clear your mind of any distractions. Push them all away," Bilba said, closing his eyes for a moment, before opening them to a slit to ensure Ralrek was following directions. When he was satisfied, he continued. "Stop thinking about everything. No stresses. Nothing exciting or enjoyable. Focus on your breathing. Your mind has to be quiet."
"So they won't help in the middle of a fight?" I risked asking.
Bilba remained focused on Ralrek as he answered. "Practice, Zeke. With a practiced mind, we could. After years. This stuff takes high levels of skill and decades, centuries, of practice before someone can get to that level. Now, let's go."
I heard a low rumble from Ralrek, almost like his stomach grumbling. If Bilba heard, he ignored it.
"Just listen to my voice, and keep your mind clear," Bilba continued, his eyes closed now, without checking on Ralrek. "All demons… sorry, Zeke. Almost all," he said, "have magic. It is an innate trait of our kind. Think of it like consciousness. It's just there. All magic."
"All?" I asked, interrupting the proceedings.
"All," Bilba repeated, a hint for me to stop. "As I was saying, we all have magic. We're born with it. It is in us. Now, what happens is, as we mature, especially as we enter puberty, one Ability comes forward. Think of it like a preference, like how someone uses one arm over the other. They become dominant in the one they give preferential treatment to. It's the same thing with our Abilities. Most of it happens in our subconscious. We don't even realize we're doing it. We focus on one Ability, and with each incident, it becomes more dominant.
"So the key is to understand that from the beginning," he continued, straightening his stance. "Ralrek, you are not just a Fire user, a mage, if you will. You have numerous Abilities. They're just dormant. But I want you to imagine a string of Abilities in your mind, like vines in the jungle, hanging side-by-side, forming a curtain. Imagine any you'd like, it doesn't matter which. Fire is just one of those vines. Together, those vines form a wall shielding you from what is on the other side, but they're still individual vines. You can move all of them, a few, or just one of them. Push them aside or pluck them out of your way if you want to."
"So now we're plucking vines, are we?" Ralrek said with a soft snort.
"Focus, like I told you." Bilba's eyes scrunched tighter. "If it helps, think of them as strings on a musical instrument. I don't care. I just prefer the vines metaphor because of Eve's Sanctuary. You do what works for you. Vines or strings on an instrument. Just imagine it, and that only."
Ralrek exhaled. "Fine. Vines it is. I don't play an instrument, so that'll be easier."
"Good." Bilba bounced on his toes. "Now, stop talking and focus on the vines in your mind. Each is like an Ability. One is bigger, thicker, than the rest. That is the one you have spent your life focusing on."
"My Fire Ability," Ralrek said, this time not sounding like a smartass.
Bilba nodded. "Your Fire Ability. But just because it's thicker than the others, its existence doesn't negate the existence of the other vines. They're still there, hanging alongside your Fire Ability. Vibrating alongside the thicker Fire vine. They're all humming, but if you don't listen you'll only notice your Fire, because it has been dominant most of your life. Now, we need to focus on the others. If you listen, you can hear them humming." Bilba pried his eyes open again. "Sort of like when you go to an orchestral concert and the musicians are warming up."
"Oh, great, another metaphor," Ralrek said.
"I told you I wasn't a good teacher. Focus." Bilba clicked his teeth. "Think of an orchestra. You hear the instruments as the musicians warm up, but there is always that low hum accompanying them. In the background. Lower than the rest. Full of bass. It hums and hums as everyone warms-up. It is the last sound to fade out right before the concert starts. That's what you're listening for now. Listen with your mind open and you'll hear them. Always humming."
I scooted backward, away from the pair, to give them space while watching with growing fixation on the lesson. Bilba was hypnotic, and I wasn't even the one being trained. Yet, I could see the vines in my mind's eye as well. This made absolute sense. Part of me listened for my orchestra while I watched. To his credit, Ralrek was following instructions.
"Keep listening," Bilba said, this time his tone much lower. "Forty, fifty different instruments, all playing at once. Listen for the low hum and start pushing the others away." He paused. Distant sounds of life around the outside of the park filled the night. Screeches of hundreds of bats. A howl from a very large dog, by the depth of the mournful cry. The thump-thump of a solitary chimera moving along a side street. Faint. "Focus on the hum."
After a silent moment, Ralrek made a sound that might have been a gasp.
Bilba encouraged but kept his voice level. "Keep focused on the hum. Find it. Separate it. It is the only sound you hear." He paused, cracking his eyes open.
Ralrek now seemed immersed. Heavens, I was hearing the hum too.
"Hold on to the hum. It's right there. A solitary sound. The other instruments have faded away. Only the hum. Now, slowly turn your wrist so your hands push out toward your sides, away from you. Keeping your elbows where they are."
I couldn't stop myself from watching Ralrek if I wanted. This was fascinating. Whether or not it worked, Ralrek was fully bought in. He was doing everything Bilba instructed and doing it with focus. No smartassery. His hands moved as instructed, as he isolated the sound Bilba wanted him to focus on.
I turned to my best friend, who was smiling. He was watching Ralrek, no longer focusing on his own posture and gestures. Bilba gave me a quick head nod.
"Find that hum, hold on to it, and push away," Bilba droned. "As you push, I want you to think about the Fifth Circle. Think about your apartment. Picture it. Now, focus on your kitchen." He paused, his eyes scrunching as if he was trying to picture Ralrek's apartment too. " Only that room. Focus on the small table you have in there. Keep moving your hands outward. Slowly. Very slowly. Push the vines away from the one that is humming. Think about your table. See the two chairs? See the cactus in the small pot you insist on killing? Can you see it?"
The question hung in the air. All the sounds in the park, the hooting of an owl, chirps of a billion crickets, the very faint click–clack of chimera hooves on brimstone, the rustle of leaves; faded as I waited for Ralrek's answer.
Finally, he answered in a hoarse voice, "Yes."
"Stay focused on the hum," Bilba said, his eyes wider than I'd ever seen them before. "The vine hanging in front of you is the only thing separating you from sitting at your table. Push it to the side, out of your way. Keep moving your hands apart. Push the vine."
And Ralrek was. His elbows still raised to shoulder–level, bent at a ninety-degree angle, he pushed his hands outward, away from each other. As he did, twenty feet across the hidden area we were using for this illegal activity, a pinprick of light hung in the air.
I was on my feet before I realized I wasn't sitting in the grass.
Ralrek pushed, and the light grew. At first, it was oval–shaped, but within seconds it elongated. Two spires of light shot up, away from that small center circle. The spires grew, reaching twice Ralrek's height. I shot Bilba a nervous glance. We were in the middle of the park, and it was late enough that no one would interrupt this session, but Ralrek's gateway was growing in size and brightness.
Bilba didn't look at me, however. Fascinated by what our friend was doing, he made a wide circle around Ralrek. His calm, even words pitched with what might have been excitement. "Listen for that single hum. Move the vine. Reach out to your chair. You want to pull it out from under the table and sit down. The vine blocks your path. Push it away."
Ralrek did. The spires on his gateway shot to twice their height, reaching well over twenty feet. The small circle of light in the middle of those two vertical points shot sideways.
Bilba yelped, jumping back. Thank Lucifer I was already on my feet, because I also jumped at the sudden expansion of Ralrek's gateway.
Bilba's jaw dropped open as the gateway stretched, wide enough to fit the three of us side-by-side. Then it kept growing sideways. Ten feet. Fifteen feet. Twenty feet.
"Is it supposed to be that big?" I asked Bilba.
My best friend's mouth moved, but nothing useful came out. Still, Ralrek's gateway grew, brightening the small grove. So much for hiding.
Thirty feet. Forty feet.
