Ring. Sister. Piano (Book 4 of The Powder Trail)

Chapter Forty One: New Worlds, Old Scores

Elsie and Ellini sat side-by-side in the Entrance Hall, paddling their feet in the air of another world. 

It was staggering. But it was also, somehow, cosy. Like Elsie herself, in fact.

She had opened a doorway to the demon realms right there, in the middle of the Entrance Hall. If Ellini turned round, she could see the staircase at her back, with its patterned, prosaic carpet, and its banisters polished raw by the hands of three hundred slave-girls. But, if she faced forwards, there was... well, where to start?

She tried to focus on the foreground, though even that was half a mile away. The dimensions were vast. They were sitting on a ledge overlooking what appeared to be a demon city. And it was a whole world: courtyards and domes and pillars and fountains, dizzying flights of rock-cut steps, giant stalagmites and stalactites that had been hollowed out and made into buildings, with glowing windows cut into the rock. 

And there were not just buildings – there was scenery. Mountains and valleys and ridges and – could those be forests? Composed of prickly black pines? And, matted at their base, were those thorns? Vines? Shiny black ivy? She couldn't believe it – a whole world in the colours of mourning. But, just like a pretty young widow, the black could do nothing to dampen its vivacity.

She didn't know why she had taken her shoes and stockings off. Elsie had suggested they spent the morning 'dipping their toes into the demon world' and somehow Ellini had felt compelled to take her literally. She had unpinned her hair too, though she wasn't sure this was a good idea. Every so often, it felt crackly, as though sparks were being earthed in it.

"It's... very beautiful," she said tentatively, as if asking permission to admire it.

Elsie drew her knees up to her chest and grinned. "Can you see your stories in it?"

Ellini hesitated. The terror of the idea that she had helped to form Eve's character was familiar to her now, but the idea that her silly stories had helped to shape the demon world – a whole world, in which millions of creatures had to live – that was a fresh horror, and not one she particularly wanted to dwell on.

"The Arabian Nights, certainly," she mumbled. "I can see the Arabian Nights." And then, in an effort to change the subject, she added, "Where are the demons who inhabit this place?"

"Oh, they're around," said Elsie. "But they won't come to me until they're called. I think – I'm not sure, but I think – it happens when I'm frightened. I get scared and call them to me without meaning to. That's why they're not here now – because Mr Danvers has been taking such good care of me."

"Yes," said Ellini, rather enviously. If you could listen to Mr Danvers – if you could be convinced by Mr Danvers – of course you wouldn't be afraid. You'd know about things like kindness and honour and good manners, and the latter might fill you with trepidation, but not fear.

"You've had a very charmed life so far," she said, staring at the lovely, smoky mountains, and the smouldering lakes. She was afraid it wouldn't last, but there was no denying that the girl was well-protected. She had Danvers to fill her with ideals, and Jack to take care of the practical side of things – keeping the zealots and inquisitors at bay. Perhaps it would work this time.

"What's it like to be a demon?" she asked at last.

Elsie giggled at the question. "I don't know. I've never been anything else, so I don't have anything to compare it with."

"All right, what's it like for the demons down there? Do they experience the world like humans do? Do they have free will?"

"Of course," said Elsie.