Keys to the Demon Prison

"Magic words?"

"I’m here to prevent people from going to the island who have no business there. I try to run folks off, scare them, talk them out of it. Having no other choice is the only appropriate reason for visiting the Sisters. I’ve been doing this a long time. I believe you. Try the sandwich."

"Aren’t you having anything?"

"I just ate."

Seth took a bite. It tasted really good. "Yum," Seth said, mouth gummy with peanut butter.

"My specialty," the old man said, sitting down on the other stool.

Seth swallowed. "So I can go to the island?"

"Even if you can cajole the Sisters into pointing you in the right direction, retrieving Vasilis won’t be easy. I can tell you’re coping with a gigantic problem. You sure you want to bet the farm on Vasilis? Sure you’re going to the Sisters with the right question to fix your problem?"

Seth held up a finger as he chewed and swallowed. "Unless you can tell me a better one."

The old man sat in silence as Seth finished his sandwich. Seth wiped his lips on the back of his hand.

"You can use the napkin," the old man said.

"It has crumbs from the sandwich. I didn’t want to spread them all over."

The old man almost smiled. "This old place has much bigger problems than a few crumbs. But I appreciate the courtesy."

"What now?"

"I’ll pole you over to the island. There is one condition."

"What?"

"You must never tell anyone what you did in here to gain permission."

"I hardly did anything, except eat a sandwich and explain my problem."

"Exactly. I don’t want word getting out, or I’ll have to change my approach."

Suddenly Seth understood why Patton had been vague in his letter about how to convince the sentinel. "I promise."

"I’ll hold you to it." The old man stood, wadded up the paper towel, and threw it in the trash. "Care for a root beer?"

"Sure."

The old man retrieved a bottle and uncapped it. Seth took a sip. It was room temperature, but sweet and good. The old man waited while Seth drank. When Seth was finished, the old man dropped the bottle in the trash and retrieved his delicately carved walking stick. Seth followed the sentinel to the door.

The old man hesitated before exiting. "I don’t normally give out hints."

"Okay," Seth said.

"I might be convinced if asked politely."

"Do you have any advice for me?"

The old man rubbed his chin. "That’s a good question. You know, I’ve parleyed with the Sisters before. And I’ve talked to others who have returned from the island, posing questions now and again. I can’t get too specific, but over time I’ve noticed a pattern. The Sisters ask for a lot, and won’t accept much less. You’ll have to give until it hurts and then some. My advice would be to stall after the first offer. Given time, they will each extend an offer. In the end, you can accept one of their propositions, or make a counteroffer. I’ve never heard of anyone returning from that island who has not accepted one of the initial offers or had their first counteroffer accepted. You follow?"

"I think so."

"Just a word to the wise. Do what you will with my observations. Once again, let’s keep this conversation between ourselves."

"You got it."

The old man opened the door and led Seth outside. The satyrs had exited the truck. Newel, Doren, Vanessa, and Hugo waited together expectantly.

The old man noisily cleared his throat. "Well, it doesn’t happen once in a month of Wednesdays, but the blasted boy bested me, so it seems I’ll be poling whoever wants to come over to the island. With the exception of the golem."

Hugo hung his head.

"It’s okay, Hugo," Seth said. "We need somebody to guard the truck."

"It’s for the best," the old man said. "First off, he would swamp the raft, and second, his kind wouldn’t be able to set foot on that island any more than he could enter my domicile."

They all followed the old man down to the swaybacked dock, where he retrieved a long pole at the edge of the water. He paused when they reached the raft. "At this point

I’ll have to ask you to relieve yourselves of all weapons. It’s for the best. Don’t try to get cute. I’ll know."

Newel set down his sling. Doren tossed a knife onto the planks. Vanessa removed a hidden knife strapped to her leg, a blowgun from inside her sleeve, and several darts from various locations on her person.

The old man gestured for them to climb aboard, then knelt to untie the raft from the iron cleats at the edge of the dock. A moment later, he sprang aboard and started poling them out onto the water. His appearance belied his strength. With seemingly casual shoves of the pole, he held against the current and propelled them swiftly to the sandy shore of the island.

"The island is narrow," the old man said as the raft ran aground. "What you’re looking for is that way." He waved his hand along a line diagonal to the shore. "Up against the highest bluff that runs across the island you’ll find the door. Can’t miss it. I’ll be here to take you back, Seth, or just your companions, depending on the outcome."

"Thanks," Seth said, hopping off the raft.

Pushing her way through thick foliage, Vanessa led the way in the direction the old sentinel had recommended. Seth followed, mind racing as he tried to anticipate what requests the Singing Sisters might make of him in exchange for their services. He wondered what the old man had asked of them to end up serving as their sentinel.

They did not travel far before finding a door in the side of a rocky bluff. Despite the faded red paint peeling like a nasty sunburn, the door appeared solid. To one side of the island Seth could see the broad expanse of the Mississippi, placid as a lake, to the other the much narrower strip of water separating them from the western shore.

"Do I knock?" Seth asked.

"It’s traditional etiquette," Newel said.

Seth rolled his eyes. "I meant do you have any final advice?"

"Don’t let your guard down," Vanessa advised. "You know they’ll ask a lot of you. Come out of there with a bargain you can live with. We’ll be waiting."

"You can do this," Doren said.

"If all else fails," Newel counseled, "throw sand in their eyes and run."

Chuckling, Seth strode to the door and knocked three times. It opened right after the third knock landed. Vanessa had brought walrus butter from the house, so Seth was able to properly recognize the scaly green troll with gill slits in his neck. Broad and heavily muscled, the troll stood a head taller than Seth.