Chapter Thirty-two
As I suspected, the arena, palace, and dungeons remain solid.
However, Baltazar and I barely escape the Chamber of Creation as it folds in upon itself and disappears completely.
For several moments, we simply stand there in the throne room and watch until the shaking stops. The dungeon remains. So do the ancient stone passages, the stone ceiling, the flagstone floor, and the many wooden doors are all in place still.
Everything remains exactly where they had always been. Except the demons are gone. Every last one of thrm. In my world, the demons had remained, and I had been tasked with hunting them down with the original Devil Killer, a task that had proven dangerous to my family.
For now, I glance around in a state of some shock, trying to make sense of it all.
Perhaps the demons were never truly independent creatures.
Perhaps they were fragments of the Dark One’s own soul; he gave them shape and purpose.
Or perhaps they simply could not or did not want to exist without their creator.
I didn’t know. Either way, they were gone, and the living mortals were still here. The prisoners. The warriors. The slaves. The guards and staff. Everyone who had been trapped inside the Dark One’s nightmare is still alive.
Including me.
Somehow.
***
After enough hugs, handshakes, promises to visit, and one surprisingly emotional goodbye from Salt Creek, I summon the single flame. I picture within it my empty bedroom and make the leap across universes.
Back home. Finally.
As luck would have it, it’s morning on a school day.
My kids bombard me with hugs, questions, and tears.
I answer as many questions as I can while hugging all three at once, letting them know I’m okay and giving them the condensed version of what happened.
You’d think being kidnapped and forced to fight in gladiator games on another world would surprise them, but no.
By now, my family experts high strangeness.
Kingsley is there, too, watching over the kids, just as I knew he would.
Allison is there, too, helping Kingsley in the kitchen, where the big guy is busy making breakfast. He gives me a hug, a kiss, and a pat on the rump.
Just what I needed. Allison gives me a big hug, too, and wants to know who she needs to hunt down for kidnapping me.
I let them all know that I took care of it.
They don’t seem surprised by that either.
Brett shows up with a tray full of Starbucks coffee, having gone on a coffee run.
I had fetched them from their honeymoon earlier, my teleporting working just fine here in my home world.
Tammy had heard of my disappearance and had been sending me frantic texts.
Brett hugs me and listens to my story with big round eyes, alarm all over his handsome face.
He’s still not quite accustomed to the high strangeness that is our lives.
Tammy, working from afar on her honeymoon, catches me up on everything I’d missed at Moon Investigations. Thankfully, the world managed to survive without me for a few days. Clients still need finding, cheating spouses are still cheating, and monsters are still monstering.
Some things never change.
As for the planet of Grandar, I left the kingdom in far better hands than when I found it.
I didn’t see any reason to depose the royal family.
The king, after all, had spent much of his life under the Dark One’s influence, and while that doesn’t excuse everything, I believe people deserve the chance to become better versions of themselves, especially when they’re finally free to choose.
Pickles, on the other hand, hardly needed any help. If he grows into the man I think he will, Grandar’s future will be bright. Before I left, I made it very clear that I would be checking in on the royal family from time to time.
Baltazar remains the kingdom’s wizard, even if his source of power is gone.
He still knows some basic charms, using nature magic and such.
With most magic gone, Baltazar thought about starting a school to teach wizards his version of earth magic.
I suggested he call it Hogwarts; he liked that name.
Azul, meanwhile, returned to his small hamlet to help the needy there as best as he could.
As for the Devil Killer... that went home with me. Baltazar helped me create another interdimensional pouch to carry it within, which is where it presently is, awaiting service.
It isn’t the same Devil Killer I once carried on Earth. This one belongs to another world, forged by another order of angels for another devil. Maybe the demons in my world won’t notice it.
I hope not. But if they do... well, by now they should know better than to pick a fight with the Moon family.
***
I had just settled in at my desk when my first client of the day walks in looking like he took a wrong turn at the Renaissance Faire.
Green tunic. Leather boots. Bow slung over one shoulder, quiver over the other. A sword hangs at his hip, and judging by the dirt on his boots and the general wear and tear of his clothing, this guy is either extremely committed to historical reenactment or hadn’t washed in months.
He closes the door behind him and looks around my little office with open suspicion until his eyes settle on me. There’s something oddly familiar about him. Not his face exactly, but the whole package: the clothes, the bow, the freakin’ feather tucked into his cap.
“I was told you are Samantha the Moon Maiden.”
“Close. Just Samantha Moon.”
“Archibald Maximus has let it be known that you are a traveler between worlds. Perhaps even through time itself.”
I sit back in my chair. So much for the Renaissance Faire. “Archibald Maximus has a big mouth.”
“Through a series of inquiries, I was led to him. He was kind enough to grant me an audience at his conclave among the books.”
I nod. “His office at the Cal State Fullerton library, yes.”
“I have been on a long and fitful journey, fraught with frustration and much confusion.”
“I can imagine.”
“You see, I do not belong in this realm.”
“You don’t say?”
“I do say, madam! Are you calling me a liar?”
He draws his sword. I react instantly, popping the cap off my water and summoning my ice sword.
“Witch!” he cries. “Demon!”
Somehow, I’ve ended up standing on my desk, my black wings having sprung from my back and a ball of fire presently burning in my open palm. Okay, yeah. I definitely look pretty witch-like. And demon-like, too.
“You don’t come into my office and pull a sword, mister.”
He eyes the ice sword. Then my wings. Then the fireball. Wisely, he returns his sword to its sheath. “My apologies, madam. I might have overreacted. We call it being ‘jumpy’ in my time.”
“Same.”
Relief suddenly passes over his handsome face. “Methinks the stories are true.”
“What stories?”
“That you might be able to help me return home. But I fear my home is gone.”
“Where’s home?”
“Nottinghamshire.”
“Where the hell is that?”
“England. And please, m’lady. Language.”
“Oops, sorry. Okay, well, England is still there.”
A faint smile touches his soft lips. “Not my England.”
Hmm. Interesting. I ask, “What’s your name, good sir?”
He straightens. “I am called Robin of Locksley.” I stare at him as the pieces begin clicking into place. Then he adds, “Though I believe in your time, I am better known as Robin Hood.”
The End