The second floor ceiling looks up into a violet and pink sparkling sky. Shades as dark as plum and lightning like cotton candy sparked across the foreign land, and the presence of something peering down upon us is overwhelming. We’re in one of the social sciences buildings, which has five or six floors, but the rest are not visible now.

  “Theo!” someone shouts. I think its Nico. A moment later comes a wild, carefree laugh and I knew that is Winter. I turn and see them beyond the classroom door, and then there is something shielding the way. Wrath nods to me solemnly, and lowers his claws.

  I relax a little. This will be dangerous, and the Dean’s words are already stuck in my head. The two of them being outside will be good - it will keep them safe. Besides, they aren’t used to dealing with things like this. Not that I’m an expert, but I can take down one disgruntled TA with a god complex.

  The wind in the room picks up, spinning the loose papers from Freddie’s altar into the air and around us in a cyclone of necromantic power. Freddie’s eyes couldn’t grow any wider, but it’s obvious he wasn’t expecting this any more than we are.

  “He’s opened a Gate,” Wrath says calmly from next to me. Unlike everything else, which now looks windswept and changed, he is as calm and centered as ever. “He’s not going to be able to control it.”

  A Gate is exactly what it sounds like. A portal into one of the Broken Hells. It’s advanced magic, and only comes out of the greatest sorts of need. Very few people are able to force their way through the very fabric of reality, which is actually more like a tough piece of burlap, but Freddie seems the sort to relentlessly annoy himself into another world.

  I feel more than I see something on the other side of the Gate, grabbing at either side and trying to force it to open wider.

  “Do you think you should drop this class?” Wrath wonders aloud. He takes a seat at one of the desks, turning it around to face me. No one else seems to notice. “I feel like maybe this is a sign to drop this class.”

  “Not now,” I say through gritted teeth.

  A Gate means that anything could come through. Normally they’re not in the sky though. Are we going to suddenly have zombies parachuting into this reality? I suddenly remember the moment from human history where soldiers dropped down onto the shores of Normandy. Only now replace them with monstrous zombies from another reality.

  Or worse, what if Freddie’s new best friend the zombie creator decides to make his way through. It’s been quite a while since an Old One found their way through a Gate, but it wouldn’t surprise me lately.

  “Or we could go on a nice vacation. Don’t you think a nice tour of all the mausoleums in New Orleans could be a fun trip?” Wrath continues. He begins examining his claws, buffing them against his collarbones. If anyone could be bored in the middle of an apocalypse, it’s my best friend.

  “You could help,” I can’t help but point out.

  Freddie grabs the sides of the altar, not to keep him upright, but to keep him on the ground. It seems like the cyclone effect is centered around him, the winds growing stronger with each passing moment. Do I save him, or let him go like the obnoxious balloon he is?

  I’m not convinced I can close the Gate on my own. At least not with how little I know about how it came to be.

  Wrath sighs and gets out of his chair as I cross the room, and clamp a hand down on Freddie’s hand. Wrath puts a hand on my shoulder, and somehow the three of us manage to stabilize despite the winds.

  “What were you calling out to?”

  Freddie glares at me. “Someone who appreciates what I have to offer!”

  Old Ones make terrible faculty advisors, but I don’t have time to explain that to Freddie right now. “What’s his name?”

  Freddie almost looks like he’s going to refuse to tell me out of nothing more than spite, but when his torso begins to lift again, and he nearly goes aloft, he snarls a panicked “Naz’Garthianikul.”

  “Garth?” Wrath laughs loudly. “That old bitch is still around? I thought he would have given up these party tricks ages ago.”

  Freddie flinches backwards, head swiveling in both directions so quick I’m surprised he doesn’t break his neck. “What was that?”

  I turn to Wrath. “Do you know him?”

  “Unfortunately,” Wrath grimaces at me. “He’s not going to go quietly.”

  “Didn’t you tell me that you used to be a diplomat? Can’t you… diplo or whatever?”

  Wrath peers down at me in annoyance. “You never listen when I talk, Theo. Really, it’s one of the most aggravating things about you. It’s not like I’ve even told you my entire history. Just the last few thousand years or so—“

  The wind picks up, and now I’m pressing against the desk, trying to keep myself stable. Behind us, the rest of the desks are starting to fly up and into the Gate.

  “Wrath! Later!”

  He makes a face. “You always say that. Anyways, I wasn’t a diplomat. I was more like a harbinger. I was what came before so that the peons knew how doomed they were.”

  “So go harbinge,” I say, pointing upwards.

  Another sour look that says I’m going to be hearing about this later. And probably for the next few weeks.

  “Garth!” he calls up into the Gate, unbothered by the wind. “What are you doing here?”

  There’s silence at first, and then a guttural noise that is not quite a language comes down from the other side. And it’s not in English, so I know that I shouldn’t understand it, but when Garth speaks in response, I do. The words are as clear as if they were spoken by Wrath.

  “Last Wrathful Scream of the Innocent Before they are an Incendiary Light on the Horizon? Is that you?” A face forms on the other side of the Gate, and it’s… he’s beautiful.

  You never know how a creature from the Broken Hells is going to manifest. Wrath has always preferred a demonic countenance, though he could just as easily masquerade as a human. A head and shoulders pulls itself through the Gate, and faces Wrath as though sticking his head through from the floor above. Golden, glittering skin and thick black curls that hug close to his face, his eyes are dark but he’s utterly human looking if not… an enchanted version of a human.

  And then he turns his head, and I see that beauty is only on the left side of the beholder. The right side of his face is a desiccated, rotting corpse of a face. He sees me and his eyes, one a beautiful gold, the other a rheumy, muddy brown brighten. “A human! You brought me a human! I love humans.”

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “Yes,” Wrath says dryly, “I remember. But no plagues today, buddy. What do we have going on here, huh?” he waves a hand around the classroom. “What’s the plan?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Garth says with a laugh. “Some whiner has been nagging at me for awhile now. I thought I’d have some fun. It’s all really…mediocre, isn’t it? Who wants zombies without a good helping of death. It’s like going to a sundae shop and getting plain vanilla and no toppings.”

  “Garth…”

  “Not even hot fudge. Everyone loves hot fudge.” Garth suddenly looks worried. “Don’t they? I haven’t missed hot fudge, have they? Oh I hope they don’t cancel hot fudge. It’s my favorite.”

  “Don’t worry, hot fudge is still a thing. But the problem is that my human goes to school here, and this little social experiment is getting in the way of him getting his education.”

  “Oh.” Suddenly Garth’s friendly demeanor cools, and he looks around the room, settling between Freddie and myself. “Which one is it?”

  Wrath goes very still, as do I. I don’t need to be told that things just suddenly got very dangerous.

  Did Wrath have friends he left behind? And were they mad that he and I had a bond?

  When human children are born, they are assigned a guardian angel. At least that’s what the stories say. Terrifying, really. But my parents went out and found a guardian demon for me, which is much more my speed anyway. I can’t imagine anyone but Wrath in my life. Anyway, they struck a deal with him, and he’s been with me ever since.

  But that’s not the natural order of things, and some demons are probably prickly about the subject. If Wrath has friends, and those friends are annoyed that he’d disappeared for the last twenty years…

  “What are the terms? You probably can’t hurt him, right? I can!”

  Garth regains almost some of his happiness, but Wrath shakes his head sadly. “I would have to stop you.”

  Garth starts to pout. “Oh, boo. That’s no fun, Last Wrathful Scream of the Innocent Before they are an Incendiary Light on the Horizon.”

  “Just call me Wrath,” Wrath responds with a wince. “It’s so much easier.” Under his breath he adds, “And so much less pretentious. What was I thinking?”

  Garth shrugs through the Gate, and then disappears for a moment, bringing something from inside and dropping it down between Freddie and I. “There you go, humans. Fight for my favor!” The object is a square book, larger than a coffee table volume and thick like a couple of bricks stacked on top of each other. Truly a large volume.

  Freddie looks at me, and I look at him, and he lunges for the book. “Mine!” he howls.

  I let him go, although there is… something about the book. It looks like it would be comfortable to hold, despite the weight. It feels like it’s supposed to be mine. I start to reach for it before I pull myself back. But my eyes can’t move away from it.

  That’s not the way books are supposed to act. However, that’s exactly how curses act. They want you to pet them, to love them, to take them into your home and feed them and support them. Cursed artifacts are a lot like cats in that way. And they care about you just as much.

  Sure, there are some cats who love you in their own way. Curses are the same way. You can love a minion or a pet or a thing that gives you anything you want. You enjoy the presence of the thing that sustains you, but like a bug you’ll swat it to death if it even approaches you at the wrong moment. Just like a cat. Just like a curse.

  Wrath sighs dramatically. “Did you really have to? Again?”

  Garth looks down at us and pouts. “Wrath, one of them isn’t doing the thing. You know how I love when they do the thing!”

  “He’s smart enough not to do it, Garth.” Wrath gestures for me to take a step back and I do but my fingers itch for that book. Think of all the secrets inside me, it seems to say. All you have to do is just open me up and take a peak. One little peak, and you’ll know so many interesting secrets.

  Meanwhile, Freddie lunges for the book, giving up his spot near the altar and throwing himself right into the middle of the roaring winds, which have begun to pick him up. He glares to the left or the right, looking for any challengers, and I can’t help but admit, there’s a part of me that wants to claim that book for my own.

  You could do so much more with me than he ever could, the book seems to confirm.

  “He did this once at a party with an apple. Half of it the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, and the other half a rotted mess,” Wrath confides. “Got a bunch of ladies all riled up until they tore each other to shreds. Then the one who survived only ate from the rotted side, turning her into one of the Black Plague zombies.”

  “Wait, the Black Plague was actually zombies?” This is new and exciting information.

  He shrugs. “Not any of the good parts, but some.”

  I’m not sure what the good parts of the Black Plague even are, but that’s a conversation for another day.

  I see an elaborate star designed on the cover of the book, and realize this must be the volume that Freddie stole away from the Library-Under-the-World. Freddie has it in it’s hands, but it’s like the book has its own gravity, or it weighs significantly more than Freddie does.

  “I made it extra fancy,” Garth says, pouting over at Wrath. “The least you could do is let your human play with it for a little bit.”

  Wrath sighs again with a pointed look at Garth. “I don’t think we have time for this. It’s been great catching up and everything, but like I said, my human goes to school here.”

  Garth sighs. “We never get to hang out anymore. You always used to be the best at parties. You know that everyone misses you.”

  “They do?” I turn to look at him. “We’ve never talked about your friends. Do you miss them? Can’t you go visit?”

  He gives me a look, and then does that thing where he whispers only in my ear. “They’re all dreadfully boring, honestly. I’d much rather stay at home with you and watch the Great British Stake-Off with you.” Watching all the inventive ways that British reality show contestants can hide a stake in baked goods is a good time, I have to admit. Especially when they get to the final four and one of their taste testers is secretly a vampire that will try to kill them.

  By this point Freddie is aloft from the torrential winds, but the volume in his grasp is being slowly pulled away by it’s gravity. The book wants to remain here, but the Gate wants Freddie. He struggles to keep hold of it, but his fingers begin to slip one by one. Eventually, he’s separated from the book, and the moment he lets the last finger go, he’s shot up through the Gate and into the Broken Hell with Garth.

  “Oh goodie,” the Old One says with glee. “Not the one I wanted but he’ll be fun to play with.”

  “So boring,” Wrath repeats with an eye roll. “Okay, Garth, you’ve had your fun. Time to say goodbye.”

  Garth pouts. “Oh, one more thing! Have I told you about…”

  Where The Lost Star has fallen on the ground, the cover flies open, and settles onto a page somewhere near the middle. A glowing red symbol that twists and curves in three-dimensional space is visible, and it… speaks to me. Not audible at first, it’s just something that steals my attention and holds it firm.

  But then, yes, the words begin.

  Don’t you want to know?

  Wouldn’t it be so nice to remember?

  Haven’t you ever wondered?

  A chorus of voices, voices that I’ve heard in my real life. A crossing guard. A shopkeeper. The mailman. The Dread-Ex delivery guy. All of their voices are familiar, and they’re the ones who speak the book’s promises.

  There’s so much you don’t see. I will show it to you. I told you how to find the answers.

  Wouldn’t it be nice to have all the pages of your story opened for you? You will read the stories of your rivals.

  You can hear your mother’s voice again? What if we could show you where she is? What if you could help her accomplish her mission?

  “Theo—“ Wrath’s voice is a warning.

  Like a splash of cold water, it pulls me back, and I realize that I’ve crossed the room. That I’ve closed in on the book. That I nearly have a hold of it. I pull up short, looking down at my hands in surprise. Even though I’m now aware of it, I can still feel my muscles straining forward as something in my limbic system seems intent on taking up the book.

  The wind doesn’t bother me the way it did Freddie. Nothing bothers me. I feel separate from the world, in the same way that Wrath wasn’t bothered by the wind when the Gate opened. I feel like I’m somewhere more real, more present than everything else. I, and the book are the only two things that truly exist. We are real, and everything else around us is window dressing.

  “Theo, don’t touch!” Wrath never yells, but he’s yelling now. It’s another shock to my system, but it still can’t stop me from reaching out.

  I bend down, intent on picking the book up, and Wrath grabs me by the waist and hauls me away. “Theo, no!”

  The physical contact does what his voice could not, and seems to break the spell. The urge to take the book is gone, and my arms shake with the effort that was in them a moment before.

  Above us, Garth whines. “Wrath! What are you doing? It would have been so coooooooool.”

  Wrath waves a claw in the air and the Gate begins to shrink. Garth yelps and disappears inside before he’s sheared by the sides closing. The demon keeps ahold of me until the room is back to normal and the winds have died down. I don’t dare look back at the book, but it’s there. Lying on the floor, pulsing in tune with my heartbeat. I can—

  “I’m going to have to deal with him later,” Wrath says crossly. “First let’s get you out of here.”

  He taps my forehead with a claw and the world goes dark.