The Demonata #10: Hell's Heroes by Darren Shan Page B

swooping on a rat. I lunge forward to protect Kirilli. Shark and Kernel react a split second later. But the furious stage magician doesn’t need our help. Neatly sidestepping us, he points a finger at the spider and screams a phrase of magic, unleashing twin lightning bolts from his eyes.
    The bolts strike the spider and it explodes, showering us with goo and slime. As I spit out the mess and wipe it from my eyes, I stare at Kirilli. He’s standing rigid, finger still outstretched, features contorted with contempt.
    “Nice work, Kovacs,” I murmur. “But next time, try not to splatter us. If you’d waited till it was lower, you could have killed it
and
spared us the splash-back.”
    Kirilli blinks and stares at me, then realizes I’m joking and smiles tightly. “The way you smell, it wouldn’t make much difference,” he says.
    “I’m liking you more and more,” I laugh, slapping his back. “Now, shall we free these poor devils and send them home?”
    “Hell, yes.” Kirilli sets to work on the bonds imprisoning the skeptical half-faced man.
    As the others dart about the dungeon, freeing the tormented humans, I hurry to the spot where Bo Kooniart has always been. My stomach lurches when I don’t find her—the shackles that held her in place lie open on the floor. I turn to the captured, blond-haired Disciple whom I saw every time I trailed Bec and Lord Loss here. His expression is torn between hope and disbelief.
    “Bo—the girl who was here—where is she?”
    He doesn’t respond, only stares, still not sure I’m real.
    “The girl,” I growl, pushing my face up to his.
    “You’re not… a demon,” he croaks. “But you’re not… human either. What… are you?”
    “That doesn’t matter. I’m here to rescue you. But where’s the girl? Did Lord Loss…?” I don’t finish, not daring to voice my worst fears.
    “Back… there,” the Disciple wheezes, nodding at a barred door behind me.
    Hurrying to the bars, I spot Bo and two others chained to the floor. It’s a small room filled with insects made of fire. They slither slowly across the helpless captives, leaving small, flame-filled channels in their flesh. Bo is gagged—they all are—so she can’t scream, but I can see the pain and terror in her eyes.
    Cursing, I rip the door off its hinges and toss it aside. Bursting into the room, I stamp on as many of the fiery insects as I can, then pull Bo and the others free and toss them out into the dungeon. Taking a deep breath, I blow on them, quenching the flames and killing the insects still burrowing across their chests, faces, and limbs. With a quick swipe of a claw, I cut the gags from their mouths. As they whimper and sob, I find clothes nearby and toss them to the naked prisoners. While they pull them on, I do what I can to heal their wounds. Then I turn to free more of the inmates.
    “Wait,” Bo croaks. “I’ve seen you before, but I don’t know where.” Her voice is surprisingly strong for one who’s been through hell. Then again, remembering how she went back into the bedlam of Slawter to search for her father and brother, maybe I shouldn’t be so surprised.
    “Grubbs Grady,” I grunt, letting my face change back to the way it was when she knew me.
    Her eyes widen. “
Grubbs?
What happened to you? You look like…”
    “… something from the cast of
Slawter,
” I grin.
    “Is it a curse?” she asks. “Did the monsters do this to you?”
    “Yeah,” I mutter. “Something like that.”
    I help her to her feet. “Are you OK?”
    “I don’t know,” she sighs. “It’s been so long… years… yet I don’t look old, do I?” She stares at her hands. Although they’re rough and scarred and stained with blood, they’re the hands of a girl, not an old crone.
    “You look fine,” I tell her. “You’ll look even better once you’ve had a hot bath.”
    Bo frowns. “A hot bath? Here?”
    “No,” I say softly. “You’re going home.”
    She starts to tremble.