1

The cell smelled of must and of mold. The biting night chill that drifted through the slight barred window caused Ralavar to shiver even under his heavy cloak. The cold entered his lungs and caused him to cough violently, racking his entire body and making his head spin. The frail older man’s form shrank deeper into his cloak and he inched back until he was well into a corner, his head resting against the stone wall. He licked his dry chapped lips and felt the side of his head. His silver hair was matted with blood and the whole left side of his face was caked with the stuff. An open wound on his leg was beginning to infect, and pus along with a bit of fresh blood oozed from the corners. How much more torture, he wondered, would he have to go through before they finally discarded him as useless and finished him off? How welcome the idea seemed. A quick stroke delivered by a sharpened axe and a skilled hand would be all it took to end his pain for good. Then he could rest, safe in the arms of his god and filled with divine peace, and to the hells with Lord Valadik and his new Order.
Had he been more alert, Ralavar could have discerned the distinct scuffling sound of soft boots against the wet stone. But he didn’t notice the intruding presence until it was standing right in front of him, arms folded.
Ralavar looked up, some of his alarm must’ve shown on his face, for the intruder said, “No, Ralavar, never fear, ‘tis not a ghost you are looking upon.”
“Against my better hopes,” Ralavar sighed and closed his eyes. “Have you come to kill me, then?”
“No,” the words caused the old man’s hopes to rise. He opened his eyes once more, just to see the intruder still in the same leisurely position about two feet away. “I don’t want you to die.” the words sent Ralavar’s hopes crashing down again. He should have known better than to expect the intruder would pass up the chance to watch their old rivalry come to some grisly end. “Although I must admit, I am surprised they have not yet heard of my location.”
“You think I would betray you?” the old man croaked, lifting his head with what little energy he had left to stare the intruder straight in the eye. “What kind of man do you think I am, Phantom?”
Phantom laughed quietly.
“A fragile one,” he replied. “Whose interest lies in his own benefit, rather than that of another.”
“You have no room to talk,” Ralavar snarled. “You care for no one but yourself!”
“I am rather keen on self-preservation,” Phantom admitted. “Believe me when I say, old friend, that nothing less could keep me from freeing you of those chains right this instant.”
“Then why not kill me? It’d be easier that way, for both of us.”
“I would never stoop to such a thing,” for a moment, Phantom seemed truly insulted.
“What a lie that was,” Ralavar ran out of energy, and his head fell back to the stone. “If circumstances were different, you would not hesitate but would kill me in an instant.”
Phantom nodded his agreement.
“Yes, however, the situation being what it is, I prefer to leave your fate in the hands of the gods. If they see fit to preserve you, then I have no doubt we shall meet again.” He turned around and faded into the darkness, until even the smell of leather and horses that always clung to him had gone.
“When that happens,” Ralavar said to the once more empty cell. “I will kill you.”


If circumstances were different.
Ralavar couldn’t help but think he had spent his entire life repeating that one statement. If circumstances were different, he would never have left in the first place. If circumstances were different, he would have never taken such a risk. If circumstances were different. What a tiresome excuse that was becoming.

Vanity ran her perfect white hands over the smooth obsidian surface of the Seeing Stone. She took a moment to admire the contrast in colors, and how they so complimented each other. Her hands were her pride and joy. The skin was soft and white; the nails trimmed and painted a deep plum color to match her hair, the fingers long and thin. Such perfect hands, she thought, not like her sister Gluttony’s, whose fingers were swollen to the point where they resembled something closer to grotesque sausages. Vanity’s reverie was shattered when a sharp shove between the shoulder blades propelled her forward and she fell. She gave an anguished little shriek and twisted her neck in a vain attempt to try and see if there was a bruise. Wrath stood over her, scowling.
“Stop admiring your perfect beauty and scry!” she snapped. Vanity whimpered pitifully and righted herself until she was standing once more over the ball. The ball clouded, and an image appeared. Lust cooed and squeezed in between her sisters for a better view. The man was young, no evidence of a beard yet on his chin. He was barely five feet tall, and no bigger around than the average twelve year-old. Around his neck hung a thick golden chain attached a mirror. The mirror was obviously enchanted; for the glass was not clear but instead a murky green that was constantly shifting and changing. Avarice omitted an enraged screech.
“That is the Mirror of Disillusion!” she screamed, her gold nine-inch nails just barely missing the ball with a blow that would have surely sent it crashing. “That’s my mirror!”
“Shh,” Sloth said, a delicate yawn escaping her lips. “We’ll get it back for you.” She cradled her head in her arms, halfway closing her eyes.
“Dem right we will,” Envy said, glaring at the image of the man, who was leaning leisurely against a tree with his head tilted back and his eyes closed.
“I’ll do it,” Lust immediately volunteered, tugging on the neckline of her already low-cut dress. Vanity’s hands went unconsciously to her own breasts, which were not nearly as full or shapely as her sister’s. It made Vanity uncomfortable to acknowledge this, or to acknowledge the fact that she had any weaknesses at all.
“How shall we do it?” Gluttony asked, rolling her eyes at Vanity’s gesture and Lust’s knowing smirk.
“We should all strike at once, so that he has no chance of survival,” Wrath said viciously, her hand going to the braided whip that hung by her side.
“No,”
They all jumped and looked around for the source of the voice. Sloth yawned again, her eyes now completely closed; everyone had thought she was asleep. “Hello Master,” she said softly.
“Hello,” Lord Valadik returned the greeting. The Lord of Shadows stepped into view, and all seven sins dipped into low curtsies. Lust’s hand fluttered in front of her breasts in a very feminine gesture, and Avarice’s was so quick that it was hardly polite.
“When shall we get my Mirror back?” she asked, looking askance at her master. Lord Valadik didn’t answer right away, but as he thought he stroked Lust’s neck, and the woman practically melted into a puddle of sensuality.
“I have an idea, a contest,” he said. “I send all seven of you out in a different direction to retrieve the mirror. Whichever is first to claim the prize and bring it to me will be richly rewarded in whatever way they see fit.”
The Sins thought about this for a moment, and then after a time a cruel smile twisted Wrath’s cold features, and Lust’s eyes gleamed at the thought of what she might gain for her reward. Gluttony was dreaming of cakes, pies, and every sort of delicacy one could think of, while Avarice was more occupied on thoughts of gold and other sorts of material wealth.
Only Vanity seemed dissatisfied with the idea.
“But Master,” she protested. “What if one of us was to be harmed in any way? The journey is long and hard…” she wrung her pretty white hands at the very thought of it.
“I’ll make sure none of you will come to any harm,” Lord Valadik promised. He spread his hands and his eye took in each one of his servants in turn. “Begin.”


2
Gluttony

Phantom hugged his black cape tightly around his shoulders to ward off the worst of the cold night air. So far, this strategy was failing. The biting winds seeped through the fabric and sliced through his flesh, leaving no part of him that wasn’t numb. Even with gloves on he still felt as if his digits were going to fall off, and he rubbed them together, creating little friction. If I don’t find somewhere to stay soon, I’ll freeze. He thought.
There was nothing for miles. No one with common sense lived on the Border, and those who did were not normally willing to share what little they had with the less fortunate, for fear that they themselves would starve and that they would be left to be devoured by the hungry carrion swamp creatures with eight-tentacles for strangling their victims and rows of sharp knife-like teeth for which to tear into them. Phantom had only seen one of these creatures once; it was about two feet long and two feet wide – not a big one but a baby – and the grotesque thing had been covered in a thick coating of slime that served almost as a protection against any predators. It had been a dark green, almost the same color as the swamps it lived in, and had eight waving tentacles along with the bud of a ninth one that thrashed in the air as if the creature had not yet learned how to master and control them. The creature had grabbed Phantom’s legs and dragged him to the ground, then stuck its tentacles up any space it could find. The ears, the nose, the mouth…literally trying to eat his brain. Fortunately Phantom had been able to force himself to remain calm, and his spirit had been allowed to drift out-of-body for a while until the creature had finished feasting. Only then did Phantom slip back into his body and, after a few days of painstaking mending, he was up on his feet and back on the road once more.
But there were no such creatures – Crawlers as they were called – about this day. Indeed, Phantom had seen no signs of physical life for days now. No birds flitted about the trees, or lack thereof, and no squirrels skittered across the path. No creatures other than Crawlers inhabited the bog, and they only came out at night for their endless and oftentimes fruitless search for fresh human meat. Phantom had vowed that he would never again allow a Crawler to chew up his insides, but to avoid that happening again he was going to have to find somewhere to be, even if it meant sleeping in the hollow of one of the few rotted trees.
Fortunately, Phantom would not have to endure that this day.
Dim light filtered through the thick swampy reeds that grew in such abundance around the place. In one peered closer they could see the light was actually coming from an open window, which was attached to a rather homey looking place, so welcome after hours of trudging through the marsh that one would never care to think twice on what such a place might be doing out in the middle of the Border.
Phantom did, however, stop to think about this, and he took great pains to study the house before deciding to enter. It seemed harmless enough. It was just barely two stories, the first story being a bit more squat than the second, giving the house a comical appearance. It was painted the kind of yellow suitable for a canary, the better to stand out against the gloom and darkness. The shutters were painted a cheerful green, there was a white door from which hung a sign painted with the words, “Home Sweet Home” in red. The air smelled faintly of sugar and baked goods. Phantom mused; it was like walking up to a gingerbread house.
Whoever lived in a place like this couldn’t be very dangerous. After a moment’s hesitation, Phantom stepped forward and rapped sharply on the door.
The door handle turned. The door opened just a crack, then it flew open all the way. And standing in front of Phantom was a monstrosity of which he had never seen the like.
It was a woman. Or, perhaps, what might have been a woman. Whatever womanish features she had were hidden behind rolls of soft, spongy white flesh wrapped tightly in a bolt of rose-pink silk that just emphasized how utterly enormous she was. Her eyes, blue dots hidden behind mounds of flesh, literally gleamed when they caught sight of him. Her face was painted pasty white, seeming only to enhance her most unflattering features. A ring of scattered crumbs, no doubt from the half-eaten pastry she still clutched in her hand, wreathed her small and somewhat pinched mouth. She smelled strongly of gingerbread, almost sickeningly so. Phantom wondered idly if she had simply taken over the house and eaten the original owners.
“Come in, come in,” the woman said, beckoning with one flabby hand for Phantom to enter the house. She was trying to be seductive, but she couldn’t have looked more the opposite. The gesture was just made more obscene by the fact that her hand was still purple and sticky with jelly.
Phantom walked in, politely ignoring her frequent winking and batting of her eyelashes. She gestured for him to have a seat at the table before stuffing what was left of her pastry in her mouth. It was remarkable, she had devoured an entire Danish in less than three seconds.
“Have a seat, please,” she said, a few stray crumbs flying from her mouth. Phantom did so, pulling out a chair and seating himself. His hostess lumbered toward the table and pulled out a chair for herself and sat down, the flimsy wooden seat creaking dangerously as she sat back and crossed her swollen ankles as she plucked a cluster of grapes from a bowl and two by two began to pop them into her open mouth. “Please. Eat.” The request came out more like a command.
“No, thank you,” Phantom said. “I was just hoping for a brief rest. Perhaps you have a spare room…?”
“Of course I do, and you’re free to have it, but you have to eat something first.” She insistently shoved a heavily laden plate in front of him.
“Thank you,” he said, but touched nothing.
Not that his hostess noticed, she was much too engrossed with satisfying her own insatiable hunger. She kept on eating, and when her plate was empty; she began to eat off her guest’s, not that he minded much at all. And when all the food was gone, she omitted a juicy belch and sat back with a satisfied sigh.
“Oh, excuse me,” she said, thumping her chest and reminding Phantom very much of a disturbance in a bowl of Jell-O. “Pardon my lousy manners. I have not offered you a single thing to eat.”
“I’m quite fine,” Phantom insisted patiently. His hostess nodded, her three chins waggling left and right like the gobble of a turkey. “What brings you here?” she asked, pushing herself back and utterly testing the endurance of her already over-strained chair.
“No offense, madam, but I hardly see how that is any business of yours.”
“Oh come, come! There must be a reason you are here, yes? No one ever comes here without a reason.” She leaned in closer to him, once more attempting to win him over with her feminine wiles. Phantom’s lips drew into a very thin line, and his expression became cold and hard as stone.
“Forgive me, but I prefer to keep my business to myself.” He repeated, slowly and clearly, so she might understand. Her expression completely changed and she leaned back once more. The spindly legs of the chair groaned.
“Oh yes, I understand perfectly well,” she said, making great effort to stand. She moved her bulk across the room to light a fire, but then discovered she had no wood. She quickly excused herself and went to the shed to go fetch some, promising Phantom with a few more winks and bats not to worry, she would be back as quickly as she could. Although someone of her enormous weight and size trudging through the sticky, squelching mud was no small task, and Phantom didn’t imagine she would be returning anytime soon. The prospect cheered him considerably, and he decided to use his bought time to gather his bearings and explore the house.
It was not a big place at all. Phantom wondered how someone of such proportions could wander about. He reasoned it must be magical, made to shrink or grow to the comfortable size of whoever was living in it at the time. Because if not, there was no hope of his hostess being able to squeeze between the back door and the pantry.
The stairs were in awful condition. They were sturdy oak but might as well have been plywood, the way they bent and creaked and threatened to cave in right out from under him. One would think that compared to the strain they were normally put under, he would be second only to air. But apparently this was not the case.
The staircase led up to a landing on which was one and only one door. Phantom puzzled over this and searched for other doors, but there were none. Only that one. Reasoning that this must be the guest bedroom, he twisted the doorknob and it opened.
The room behind it was plainly furnished in a way that Phantom supposed his guess to be correct. The curtains were heavy and dusty, and the most horrendous shade of pink. The bed had pink sheets, and pillows with pink shams. The walls were painted the same shade of pink as the curtains and the bed sheets. The only items not pink were the wood floor, the bedframe, and the wardrobe that stood in one corner.
Phantom took his time looking through the room. He opened the wardrobe and found a robe and slippers waiting for him, folded neatly at the very bottom. He pulled them on and then shut the wardrobe doors again gently, so as not to alert anyone else that might be in the house. There was not much else in the room to explore, so he left, shutting the door with a soft ‘click’. The clock in the living room chimed eleven o’ clock, and from a small porthole-like window he could see his hostess was just then entering the shed. He still had plenty of time.
He started down the staircase again, musing at all the oddities of the house, when the door above him slammed. He whirled around, nearly losing his footing but managing to keep his balance somehow, and saw there was a man standing in front of the door.
He was the queerest little man, to be sure. He was rotund, not fat but pleasantly plump. His cheeks were red and breathless as if he had been running, and his hair was long, down to his shoulders and curling at the ends, pulled back in a tie and a dark auburn. A pair of gold spectacles rested on his hawk-like nose. His green eyes reflected a good personality but were at the moment tinged with fear.
“My God,” he said breathlessly, staring at Phantom. Phantom returned the look with a cool, casual glance of his own, and the man turned around and ran back into the room he came from, closing the door behind him.
Phantom flung the door open just seconds after it was closed, but it only showed the room again, and even though he checked it thoroughly it proved to be completely empty. Besides, there was nothing in there big enough to hide the man.
It was one mystery Phantom couldn’t quite solve. He left the room, shaking his head and feeling he had just imagined it all, and was just at the top of the stairs when the door creaked open just a crack and the man’s head stuck out, apparently seeing if Phantom was still there or not.
Phantom, having always been agile and gifted with quick reflexes, caught the door before the man could shut it again and yanked it open. Much to his annoyance but not altogether his surprise, he found that he was in a room much different than the one he had just exited. It was a cozy room where the walls were lined with bookshelves and a warm fire was blazing in the grand fireplace. Plush, overstuffed chairs were scattered about in odd places. One even had a book sitting spine-up on the cushion, as if it had been tossed aside in a great hurry.
And then Phantom felt something wet splash against his neck.
“What the-?” he felt the nape of his neck with his hand and brought it back around. It wasn’t blood, it was just water. Was the roof leaking?
He was answer by a shrill little shriek that came from directly behind him.
“The holy water doesn’t work!” the queer little man he had seen earlier squealed in terror. “What demon-sent fiend from Hell ARE you?” he splashed Phantom again with more holy water, but when it didn’t burn holes through his skin or render him powerless where he stood, the man discarded it as useless and dropped to his knees.
“Please!” he pleaded. “Please, PLEASE don’t kill me!”
“I have no intention of doing so, rest easy,” Phantom said, layering sarcasm as he wiped away the moisture from his face. “Now get up. And tell me where the heck am I.”
“The library,” the man said very matter-o-factly, obviously pleased with himself for being so useful. Phantom shook his head and sighed.
“I noticed that. Whose library?”
“My library.”
Phantom’s patience was reaching its end point.
“Look,” he said, trying to keep murder out of his voice. “Are you telling me you live here?”
“I do,”
“Then how come when I opened the door all I got was the guest room?”
“Where you looking for the guest room? If you were, then that’s why you got it.”
“I fail to understand.”
“It is a magic door,” the man explained, straightening his spectacles. “It opens to whatever room one wishes to find. Very useful. Saves money on house extensions.”
“That woman downstairs,” Phantom began guardedly. “Is she your wife?”
The man blinked, and then burst out laughing, rolling around on the floor and kicking his heels.
“Haha! Oh yes, that was a funny thing to say indeed! My wife! Hehe!” he howled.
“Well if she isn’t your wife, who is she?” Phantom asked, irritated.
“I don’t know,” the man admitted, wiping tears from his eyes. “She showed up yesterday, and I haven’t been able to get her to leave. I want to force her to leave, but she might do something horrible like sit on me. And with someone of that gargantuan size, it’s no small beer.”
A headache was forming, right above Phantom’s left ear. He could feel it pounding.
“I better go back,” he said. “She’ll be wanting me soon, that is if she’s managed to get back inside yet.”
“Jolly good, I’ll accompany you,” the man said jovially. “By the by, my name just so happens to be Pike.”
“I’m Phantom,”
Pike beat Phantom to the door, and he had just opened it when a figure appeared, looming ominously above them.
“I believe you have something that belongs to me,” Phantom’s hostess and Pike’s most unwanted guest said in soothing, gentle tones as she extended one meaty hand. “I’ll take the mirror, now, and you can be on your way.”


“Mirror?” Pike looked confused. “I haven’t the foggiest idea what you are talking about. Do you, Phantom?”
“No,” Phantom said, lying through his teeth. “I don’t.”
“Oh,” purred the woman. “I have a feeling you do know…very well.” She extended her hand, which was big enough to cover Phantom’s entire face, and reached out towards his chest, where he kept the mirror and chain hidden beneath his leather tunic and robe. He jumped agilely out of her way, and she gritted her teeth, lowered her head, and charged.
Phantom avoided her – very narrowly – and rammed into Pike, sending the fellow skidding across the floor. He jumped up and scrambled to a nearby corner where he could watch without getting squashed. The enormous woman drew herself to her full height, howling awfully and being altogether rather terrifying. For Phantom she brought to mind the image of a captured and enraged bull, huge and powerful and angry. She swung her arm at him, a blow that would have sent his head spinning had he not ducked, and then it was his turn. He punched her in the stomach, losing for a moment his hand in the midst of her flesh. He was never good at physical combat, preferring to use skill and wit rather than brute strength. Or, if the situation called for it, magic. But he barely had time to breathe, much less to think out the correct spell and cast. He recalled Pike’s phobia of being sat upon and figured that the man’s fears weren’t so irrational after all.
Pike was in the corner, waving his arms and yelling encouragement. Phantom had hoped that all the noise might distract the huge woman, but she would not be distracted. She had her eyes fixed on only one goal; the Mirror.
And after all the trouble Phantom had gone through to get the Mirror, he wasn’t ready to turn it over so easily.
Phantom gritted his teeth and his fists clenched and unclenched, reaching down for the small dagger he kept concealed in his boot.
“I took great pains to achieve this mirror. I suffered physical, bodily harm to my person and I betrayed my best friend. I am not about to give it up!” and with that, he drove his dagger through her eye.
The monstrous woman howled in pain and swiped her hand once more, but it was half-hearted, one made out of desperation and therefore holding no real merit. And then she went down, blood pouring all over her bloated face.
Pike emerged from the corner, regarding the corpse with a sort of shock. Phantom went to retrieve his blade.
“That was magnificent!” the man exclaimed. “Marvelous performance! Jolly well done!”
Phantom looked at him.
“What is it you want?” he asked.
“Let me go with you!” Pike begged.
“No,” the answer was cold and simple.
“Please! Don’t leave me here with this … this THING on my rug!”
“I’m sorry. But no.”
“Please…” Phantom raised his bloodied dagger threateningly, and Pike backed down, accepting his defeat.
“Sir? May I ask a question?” he squeaked. Phantom sighed.
“If you must,” he said.
“What was it she was after?”
Phantom’s teeth clenched. Pike swallowed, but waited for his question to be answered. At last, Phantom reached down his shirt and pulled out the chain and mirror that hung around his neck. “This,” he answered simply. Pike stared and traced the gilded edge of the mirror with his index finger.
“Why do you have the face turned away?” he asked. “It sort of ruins the point of a mirror, don’t you think?”
“Because this is the Mirror of Disillusioning. Surely you’ve heard of it.”
“I’ve heard stories…”
“All of them true,” Phantom assured him. “And each one more outrageous and unlikely to be true as the rest. It took me half a lifetime to achieve this treasure. I am not about to lose it, for anyone or anything. I will have to be dead before they take it from me, they’ll have to slip it off my either broken or severed neck.”
“I think that was the idea,” Pike thought aloud, looking down once again at the corpse and an almost sick look crossing his face.
“Do you have any food?” Phantom asked, wiping his blade on the pink silk.
“I did,”
“Might there still be enough to get us through tomorrow?”
“Perhaps…”
“Good. Then I’ll stay the night here, and in the morning, I shall take my leave.” He turned towards the door, sliding the dagger back into its sheathe, and looked over his shoulder at Pike. “You coming?” he asked.
Pike took one more look at the dead woman’s corpse, nodded weakly, and followed.


3
Sloth

Lord Valadik howled in pain and clutched his head when he felt Gluttony fall. He sounded like a wounded animal, the force of the mental blow driving him to his knees. It would take time to recover from the loss, and meanwhile the rafters echoed with his cries of pain on his daughter’s behalf, throwing the sound back at him like an endless taunt. The pain was shooting through his skull as it to come flying out the back and split it in two. A wave of red blocked the vision in one eye, and when he lifted up his hand to feel, it came back covered in blood. He gritted his teeth, understanding now how his first sin had fallen. The bloody bastard had stabbed her in the eye!
The Lord of Shadows stood and spun on his heel to face his six remaining Sins. Avarice looked to him expectantly, only to gasp at the ugly, gaping wound that was all remaining of his gouged out eye. Vanity shuddered, her hands reaching up towards her own face as if to reassure her that her own eyes were still in tact.
“Gluttony failed, needless to say.” Lord Valadik snarled. “You,” he jabbed a finger in Sloth’s direction. “I am sending you out next. Do not fail me!”
A slow, lazy smile spread across Sloth’s drowsy but all the same pretty features.
“Yes, master,” she said, and slowly faded from their view.

“No harm, he said,” Vanity said, her voice uncertain with fear. “He said no harm would come to us! Look what happened to poor darling Gluttony, what will happen to rest of us?” she checked her face in the mirror to calm herself down. Ooh, how lovely she looked when she was worried.
Lust scoffed and tossed her mane of cinnamon brown hair. Envy watched as it fell back over her shoulders like a wave of fire against her pale skin and then touched her own dark hair as if wistful that it could be just like her more beautiful sister’s.
“Gluttony was stupid,” Lust said, reveling in her envious sister’s attentions. “That lumbering ox is better off dead, if you ask me. Besides, if she had succeeded in attaining the mirror, then this whole wondrous adventure would be over and I wouldn’t get to meet that most handsome young man.”
“And what is Sloth fails?” Avarice asked skeptically. Lust smiled nastily, showing all her teeth.
“All the less competition for our adorable adversary’s attentions.”

Pike stumbled out of bed earlier than usual, remembering that he had a guest who would want to be fed when he woke up. The stout man pulled on a shirt, plain brown leather slacks, and a pair of soft brown ankle boots before heading downstairs to his kitchen, making a mental note to fix the stairs as soon as possible.
“At last, you’re up,” Phantom’s voice nearly gave Pike a heart attack as he turned around suddenly to see his guest was already sitting at the table, leaning back leisurely with his boots resting on the surface. From the corner of his eye, Pike could see the living room clock said it was only eight thirty in the morning.
“I’ve been up since five,” Phantom said as if reading the pudgy man’s thoughts. Pike shook his head in disbelief. What sort of inhuman crackhead got up before dawn, and what sort of demon was he housing now?
“Terribly sorry if I disturbed you. I’m just accustomed to early mornings, and I was hoping to be on my way well before the afternoon.”
Pike just nodded drowsily in response. On a normal morning he couldn’t even go to the bathroom before he had a cup of coffee and a plate of something warm, but that would have to wait. He had a guest. With a resigning sigh, he grabbed a spray bottle and a small knife from the counter and went outside to check his traps.
“Bastard,” he muttered grumpily, slamming the front door shut. The outside smelled foully of swamp water and carrion. The nearest trap was just a few yards away near the very edge of the bog. A mass of tangled, rusty wire shaped into a dome sat in the brush and, if Pike was not mistaking, he could catch sight of a small tentacle peeking out of the holes.
Crawlers, no matter how disgusting they may look, were excellent when fried in a skillet with onions and potatoes. And their eggs made delightful breakfast omelets. It was only a matter of catching them, which was especially difficult because they only came out for short periods at night. So Pike had fashioned a series of cages specifically for catching the creatures, usually coming out to check them in the afternoon after giving the Crawlers plenty of time to dry up in the blazing hot sun. The cages were not very heavy; a full-grown Crawler could just pick itself up and slink back into the dim, murky waters that it sheltered itself in during the day, if it possessed the brains to do so. In fact Pike had lost many of his best-made traps that way. It was the babies that were easiest to catch. They were small and not that in control of themselves, making manipulation of their limbs impossible. Most people would not stoop to such a low thing as to eat a Crawler, but those who had tasted the white flesh of the bog creatures normally agreed that it was the babies who tasted better – and who were altogether tenderer than the adults.
Pike scrunched up his nose, the Crawlers reeked of rank fish. He approached the trap and saw that this one contained a fair-sized Crawler not quite a baby but not quite an adult. It had nine tentacles and was on the verge of developing its tenth, but most of its limbs had been shriveled and dried by the sun. The skin on the top of its formless body was puckering and gross, the limbs that were still in working order snapped at Pike through the bars of the cage, stopping just inches of his nose.
Pike pulled out his spray bottle, which was filled with a mixture of water and red chili powder, and sprayed it straight into the creature’s single eye. The Crawler roared and its tentacles snapped out again, sending his spectacles flying. Pike sprayed twice more before stabbing the creature in the brain with his knife and the retrieving his glasses.
Pulling out a basket, Pike opened the cage and dumped the dead crawler in. It landed on the bottom with a wet sploosh, and the man shuddered as he replaced the cage and took up his basket, continuing on his way.
Several of the traps were empty or else missing, but there were a few that contained more Crawlers. One of them was full-grown and fully alive and angry, waving its long tentacles at Pike except for one, which had been dried up, preventing any escape. Pike had to spray the thing several times and stab it repeatedly before at last it shuddered and died. He placed it wordlessly in his basket and headed back towards his house.

“Crawlers?” Phantom exclaimed in disgust. “Are you bats?”
“Oh, don’t be so finicky,” Pike, much more cheerful after drinking his morning coffee, said as he hacked off the tentacles of one of the beasts. “It’s just like gourmet seafood. Except it’s not really gourmet.”
“You’re crazy,”
“They make lovely omelets.”
“If you think I am eating that…”
“Hmph,” Pike pouted. “I almost wish preferred my other visitor. She ate anything I put in front of her.”
“And a few things you didn’t,” Phantom remarked dryly, plopping back down into his chair. “Very well, if it’s only for one meal.”
“Actually, I thought of taking what we didn’t eat now with us. We’ll need food for the rest of the trip and no use letting good meat go to waste.”
“Wait a moment,” Phantom held out a hand. “What do you mean, we? I thought I made it very plain that you are not tagging along.”
Pike grinned from ear to ear.
“Ahh,” he said, looking slyly at Phantom as though he had outwitted him in a game of chess. “But how will you get out of the bog?”
Phantom stood up slowly.
“Look, you,” he said, drawing the words out. “I was exploring this bog, most likely, before you even heard of it. I think I can find my way out by now.”
“I doubt that,” Pike said, missing the point entirely. “I’ve lived here a fairly long time…”
“That’s not the point, you bleedin’ bastard!” Phantom shrieked, grabbing Pike by the collar and lifting him off the ground. For such a small man, he was considerably strong. “The point is I do not need to any extra baggage! Do you understand me? You. Can. Not. COME!”
Pike nodded, eyes wide, as he struggled against Phantom’s iron grip. Phantom held him in the air a little longer for good measure, then set him down.
“I believe,” he said, his voice deceptively calm. “That I have got my point across?”
Pike nodded, rubbing his throat with one pudgy hand as his eyes darted about the room, trying their very best to avoid meeting Phantom’s gaze.
“Yes, sir,” he muttered. “Point quite taken, sir.”
“Good,” Phantom sat back down, his finger toying with the chain of his mirror. “Hurry up, now, it’s almost noon.”


“I knew him,” Ralavar closed his eyes. “His name was Phantom.”
“How did you know him?” Lord Valadik questioned, continuing to circle his prisoner like a hawk circling its prey. A crusted black hole was all that remained of his missing eye, somehow giving him a more intimidating appearance.
“We were good friends,” Ralavar explained.
“And did you respect him?”
“I did…I do, I respected him like I respect the business end of a knife. Why do you ask?”
“I believe I am the one doing the questioning here!” Valadik snapped. Ralavar fell silent. “Ask me,” Valadik said after a moment’s pause, his voice soft and soothing. “Ask me why I have not yet killed you.”
Ralavar sucked in a breath.
“Why have you not killed me?” he asked.
“Because,” Valadik’s smile was one of malicious glee. “I may have a use for you yet.”

Phantom hiked through the bog for about three miles before the brush began to thin and the ground began to grow soft with loose dirt instead of sticky muck. The border ended after another half mile, and then he entered a meadow.
The meadow – a pleasant place that stretched for miles – was just another thin strip of earth that made up the Borderline of Tiér dá Sönä. After it came a stretch of tall black mountains, and then one could finally reached Sèntrài, the neighorbing kingdom to Tiér dá Sönä.
The meadow was quiet and pleasantly calm. Phantom waded knee-deep in soft green grass, fluffy white clouds drifted lazily above his head in an endless stretch of blue sky. The air was moist and warm, at least enough to allow him to shed his cloak.
Making his way across the meadow was a happy change after the endless trudge through the bog, but he was not quite prepared for what he spotted ahead.
A young woman, with an ageless face and blue forget-me-not eyes, sat on a swing in the middle of the meadow. The swing swung lazily back and forth slowly like a pendulum, suspended in empty space by silver ropes that reached up into the sky and disappeared from view. Her dress was floaty gossamer the same color as her eyes. Phantom stood there, staring at her, until finally she turned her head, her soft cheek resting against her shoulder as she smiled coyly at him. “Hello,” she said sleepily, her words soothing as a lullaby. Phantom set his coat down in the grass and watched her as she swung, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth…
His eyelids had begun to droop until he could no longer hold them open. He sat back on his heels and rubbed his face with his hand. Then he yawned, heavily as if out of exhaustion, and next thing he knew he opened one lazy eye and the woman’s face was hovering inches over his own, her hands massaging his cheekbones as his head rested in her lap.
“You are tired,” she soothed, brushing his forelock away from his eyes. “Rest. I’ll keep an eye on you.” Her hands moved slowly down his neck until they found the chain around his neck and began to lift it off gently. How good it felt to get the heavy gold off for a while! Phantom hadn’t realized up until now how truly tired he was, and how much lighter he felt, now that the gold chain was off.
The woman wrapped the gold chain around one dainty white hand while the other played with his hair. Phantom drifted closer to the brink of unconciousness, darkness was creeping in from the corners of his eyes…
“Aeiee!” came an all-too-familiar sounding cry of alarm.
Phantom’s eyes snapped open, and he suddenly remembered where he was. He rolled over and wrestled the woman in blue to the ground, meaning to pry the mirror from her dainty fingers even if it meant breaking them. From the corner of his eye he spotted a bobbing head of red hair. Blood of the gods, the little bastard had followed him!
Phantom balled his hand into a fist and he punched down hard on the woman’s face. There was a sickly crackle of cartilege, and blood streamed from her nose. She tried to raise her head but was met by a continuous barrage of blows that kept raining down on her even as Phantom tried to take the mirror from her. She kept her grip firm, and he growled in frustration. There was a resounding snap as he broke her wrist and she screamed as her fingers ceased to function and Phantom managed to pry the mirror from her weakened grasp.
The woman’s body went limp, Phantom stood, clutching the mirror in his hand covered in blood not his own. He unceremoniously placed the chain back around his neck and turned to see where Pike was and what had alerted him. The little man sat huddled in a little ball with his knees tucked up under his chin and his pupils dialated with fear.
“I suppose I should thank you,” Phantom said, wiping perspiration from his brow. “Considering that it was your supreme idiocy that saved my life…” he trailed off, and his eyes followed Pike’s until he saw what it was that had scared the man so badly.
Ralavar stood at the edge of the bog, naked blade in hand, challenging look on his face. Phantom spared Pike one last glare.
“I’ll kill you later,” he promised before drawing his dagger in one hand, his sword in the other, and charging.

“So Ralavar,” Phantom said, keeping a wide berth between him and his opponent. “What sort of deal with the devil did you have to make to get out of that predicament?”
“Lord Valadik saw fit to spare me,” Ralavar fairly spat out. “I serve him now.”
“Well I hope you signed the contract in blood. It isn’t binding otherwise.”
“Churlish bastard, I’ll teach you a lesson you won’t soon forget!”
“Proceed, I am so very keen on learning.”
Neither of them waited any longer. The swords met in midair, setting off a terrific ring that made the flesh on Pike’s back crawl. It was a brilliant display of swordsmanship and would have any other time been a pleasure to watch, had not the two been locked in deadly mortal combat, during which one miscalculated swing could cost the other his life.
In no time at all, Phantom had gained the upper hand. Whatever Ralavar could throw at him, he could parry and match with twice his foe’s strength. To Ralavar, it was almost like fighting an advanced version of himself, a thought he found most unsettling.
The swords met again in the air as Ralavar attempted and overhead chop and Phantom managed to parry it easily. He then feigned a swing at his opponent’s legs, bringing up his sword and catching Phantom’s forearm as he did so. Blood welled from the cut, staining his white blouse. A frown creased Phantom’s brow and he cut the back of his adversary’s legs, sending the man tumbling forward before Phantom used his knee to propell him backward by digging his knee under the ribcage and literally knocking the wind out of him. Ralavar collapsed and shuddered as if in his death throes, Phantom placed the tip of his sword at his opponent’s neck.
“Tell me who this Lord Valadik is and why he wants you, and I just may let you live.” He said. He wasn’t even breathing hard.
Ralavar, on the other hand, was fighting hard for breath.
“Lord of Shadows, and his intentions were to use me to defeat you,” he answered, layering his voice with spite.
“And what is this Lord of Shadows offering you in return for your services?” Phantom asked in conversational tones.
“My life, isn’t that enough?”
“Much more than you shall receive from me, old friend.” Phantom used his free arm to wipe sweat from his forehead, leaving a smear of blood. “Tell me, why does Lord Valadik want me eliminated?”
“Who knows.” Ralavar shrugged.
“What a well of useful information you are. Now answer me one last question – if you can – who are these most delightful women I keep running into?”
“The Seven Deadly Sins. Lord Valadik controls them, and he has been sending them after you. So far you have managed to defeat-“
“Gluttony and Sloth. I would have guessed as much.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully, then shrugged, lifting up the point of his sword. “Thank you my old friend. You have been very useful.” With that, he conked Ralavar over the head with the butt of his sword, rendering him unconcious.

“Did you kill him?” Pike asked, peeking over the rim of his spectacles at Phantom. His response was a glare.
“No,” Phantom said. “I didn’t. But I have a good mind to kill you.”
“But I want to come with you!” Pike protested. “You would be dead if it weren’t for me! You owe me!”
Phantom sighed irritably.
“I do,” he said. “Not that I would ever admit it to everyone, especially not an annoying little insect like yourself, I do owe you…a great deal.” He sheathed his sword and Pike, relieved to see he was not going to have a run-in with the business end of a sword this day, happily emerged from the tall grass. Phantom explained the situation to him, and then shaded his eyes and looked to the horizon.
“North, I think,” he said, partly to himself.
“What’s north?” Pike questioned, stumbling to keep up with the long-legged man’s quick strides.
“You’ll see when we get there,”

“And then, there were five,” Lord Ralavar said as he turned to his remaining five Sins, blood streaming from his nose and dripping onto his chest as he cradled his injured wrist. He looked pointedly at Envy, who sighed and stepped forward.
“Soon to be four,” she muttered.


4
Envy/Avarice

“Oh, oh, oh!” Vanity rang her hands in distress. “Oh my, oh my!”
“Will you calm down?” Wrath hissed. “It’s not your neck on the chopping block, so shut it up!”
“Poor Envy!” Vanity wailed. “She shall share the same fate as our other sisters! Soon there will be none of us left!” she threw her arms around Envy’s neck and sobbed. They were dry sobs, because if she summoned up actual tears her mascara would run and her face would become all red and blotchy. “Poor, poor, poor Envy! You were never quite so pretty as me but I have always loved you as the sister you were to me!”
“Will you stop reffering to me in past tense?” Envy snapped, breaking apart the smothering embrace. “It’s like I’m some blamed ghost!”
“But you are, you are and you just don’t know it!” Vanity’s moans and cries were by Avarice putting one talon-like fingernail at her sister’s throat.
“Shut up, or I’ll stab you in the throat here and now.” She warned.
Vanity sniffed a couple more times for good measure, but otherwise fell silent.
There had only been a few moment’s peace when the portal that had taken both Sloth and Gluttony to the World of Form appeared to escort the next Sin. Envy smoothed her green silk gown and stepped forward. The portal appeared, not as hole exactly but more of a seamless dark mass, like a tear in the delicate fabric of Time and Space. A silver aura surrounding its perimeter simply reeked of dark enchantments and black magic. Envy took another step forward, ignoring Vanity’s horrified stares and pitiful whimpers. She stuck her hand out and touched the darkness with the tips of her fingers, immediately snatching them back. Gods alive, it was cold as a crypt! Envy took a deep breath and, with an effort that can be described as nothing less than heroic, she plunged into it.
The cold seized hold of her limbs, freezing every breath, slowing even the pace of her pounding heart. The blood pounded in her ears and her chest began to feel as if a dozen marble slabs had been placed on top of it. The darkness was stifling her, she couldn’t even tell if her eyes were opened or closed, because it didn’t really matter.
It was over as soon as it began. The sin landed spread-eagle and unconcious on a hard marble floor, and the black hole vanished, as if simply it had never existed.

Phantom knew he was dreaming, for he fell asleep at the foot of a mountain and awoke in a grand hall. It stretched on forever, it seemed. The walls were emerald green, engraved with ancient gold runes that seemed to hold no meaning when read and echo emptily when spoken. The torches burned green fire and fit into sconces carved to resemble twisted, scowling faces with cold, calculating eyes and fanged maws. It gave one the eerie sensation of being watched. They too, were green. Even the marble floor was tinted greenish in hue. Something compelled him to move forward, and he did. The hall never changed nor did it ever seem to end.
Approaching faster, or maybe Phantom was just getting closer, was a bright, white light. It drifted closer, and Phantom’s pace quickened. Unlike the ever-burning torches that remained cold even though they were blazing, this light was warm, flooding his limbs with welcoming warmth.
As the light came even closer, Phantom bnecause aware of strange noises. He hadn’t noticed them before but now they surrounded him, filling his ears and racking his brain. A baby crying, a woman screaming, a Crawler hissing, a dog barking…as if the light were some sort of embodiment of chaos. Phantom plugged his ears against the sounds, but they remained in his head, pounding against his skull.
At last, his eyes flew open.
He was staring straight into the morning sun, his head hurt badly and his tongue felt heavy. They probably went hand-in-hand with the strange dream as a result of the previous night’s wine. Pike had brought food along with him, one of the perks to keeping the wanker alive was that he had also brought amongst his possessions a bottle of perfectly aged wine. Phantom drank half of it that night, feeling that after all he had been through that he deserved it.
The sun’s glare was beginning to blur his vision. He sat up, realizing he still clutched the neck of the half-empty bottle in his hand and took another swig of it. The sweet, chilled liquid tasted like Heaven and he savored it, rolling it around his tongue and pushing it into his cheek. His lips as another side-affect of the night before were numb, so a little bit of the wine dribbled down his chin. He barely had time to wipe it off before Pike grabbed the bottle from him and poured the liquid into his waiting mouth.
“Ahh. That’s a blessing, I was parched.” He said, placing the cork back into the now nearly-empty bottle. “Traveling will do that to a body. Speaking of which, where are we?”
“The Drüel Mountains,” Phantom replied, shading his eyes against the sun. “Just bordering Sèntrài.”
“So we’re heading for Sèntrài?”
“It would appear to be that way.”
“Ok, what did you do?” Pike asked, hands on hips.
“What?” Phantom turned on his companion.
“Why are you fleeing the country? Are you trying to avoid a run-in with the law?”
“I am not running from the law!”
“But you said-“
“No such thing,” Phantom finished for him. “And if you’re going to be annoying you may turn around and march right on home. I am going to Sèntrài because it suits my own purposes.”
“I see,” Pike said, although he clearly did not.
Phantom stood up, slighty swaying, and fairly stumbled towards a matted clump of brush.
“Hey! Where are you going?” Pike called after him. Phantom didn’t answer, he just stood in front of the brush and massaged his temples, as if asking for a straight thought at the moment was too much for his poor groggy brain.
“Dem,” he muttered thickly. “I knew it was here somewhere.” He moved forward, branches sticking his face and brambles scratching his skin and snagging his clothes. He batted away what he could, hacked to pieces what he could not. He was soon well on his way to clearing a path for himself. Pike waited a moment, and then followed him.
“I knew it was here somewhere,” Phantom said, sheathing his short sword and placing his hands on his hips. He stood in front of the yawning mouth of a large, dark cave. The numerous species of stalactites and stalagmites that hung from the roof and jutted from the floor added to the appearance of a giant mouth, just waiting to swallow up anyone who was fool enough to enter. Phantom took a step forward, Pike grabbed a hold of his sleeve and pulled him back.
“Has all that wine gone to your head? We can’t go in there!” he was speaking rapidly in a high, almost panicked voice. “Who knows what evils lurk inside that place? Come on, we’re going to find a road around the mountain.”
Phantom shook himself free of the smaller man’s grip.
“I’ve been here before,” he was trying to sound reassuring, but it wasn’t working. “It’s our most direct route and will take us straight up the mountain. I am not going to circle around for hours until I find a path I don’t know and take the long way to Sèntrài.”
“It’s not the long way!” Pike insisted. “It’s the scenic route.”
“You never cease to amaze me how far you can get from the point, dear Pike.”
“You don’t know what’s in there! There could be bats, cougars, bears…and did I mention bats? One of them could be hiding from us right now, just waiting for the right moment when we suspect nothing, and then they’ll descend upon us and drink our blood, turning us into mindless zombies forced to live in darkness for the rest of eternity!” he was hyperventilating now. His rosy cheeks had turned breathless red.
“My dear, dear Pike,” Phantom shook his head. “You have read one too many horror stories. All that stuff is made up. No bats are going to suck out your blood, this tunnel is perfectly safe. I practically lived here not long ago.”
Pike glanced from Phantom to the cave and from the cave to Phantom, unsure as to whether go with the feeling in his gut or the reassuring words of his traveling companion. It took him a minute, and in the end he decided to trust Phantom.
“Oh fine,” he said, spreading his hands in defeat. “I give up.”
A ghost of a smile hung about Phantom’s lips.
“Alright then, let’s go.”


In the same way he had never been interested in women who didn’t closely resemble his mother, Pike was never fond of anything that lacked a homry atmosphere. Needless to say, the cave made him uncomfortable, and the thought of hiking up a few thousand miles to the very top of Drüel Mountain did not quite appeal to him. Phantom had assured him that no carnivorous lizards were going to suck out his eyeballs, and Pike was ready to trust his friend.
But then again, when could Phantom ever be trusted?
The idea was unsettling, and Pike chose not to dwell on it. Instead he looked to the task of staying alive long enough to reach the end of his goal. Or rather, Phantom’s goal. Pike was just along for the ride.
“I would feel much better, I think, if I knew what was going on.” He panted, placing his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath during a brief pause. Phantom made no comment.
“It would certainly provide some motivation,” Pike insisted as they started up again.
“Yes,” Phantom agreed.
“PHANTOM!”
“What?” Phantom glared. “Oh fine. We’re being followed by the Seven Deadly Sins.”
“The SINS?”
“You asked.”
“But…but what could they want with us?”
“First of all, it’s not us, it’s me. And probably not me either, they want the mirror of Disillusion.”
“Well, why don’t you just GIVE it to them?”
Phantom passed a hand over his eyes.
“Because, that is exactly what I am trying to avoid having to do.” He spoke as if trying to explain things to a slow child. “The sins are controlled by some Lord Valdrick – or whatever he calls himself – and he is sending them to do his dirty work for him.”
“So,” Pike was confused. “Why does Lord Val-something want the Mirror?”
Phantom shrugged.
“Probably because I stole it from him.”

“What are you doing?” Phantom demmanded a few hours later as Pike plopped down on a flat-top rock.
“I can’t go on,” Pike moaned. “Just continue without me.”
Phantom rolled his eyes.
“Ok,” he said, and turned. The cave was dark, but a growth of giant glowing mushrooms known as Geni kept everything but the farthest corners free from shadows. Phantom turned back to Pike, who was still trying his best to catch his breath. “It’s not that much farther, if you get up and move we’ll be at our first stopping point in another hour or so.”
“Let me rest first, then we’ll discuss actually getting up and moving somewhere.” Pike titled his head back to rest against a stalagmite that served as a back for his rough formation of a chair. Phantom sat down on a mushroom to rest his own limbs as he waited for his companion to recoup. The top of the fungi was covered with a light dusting of power that was greatly coveted in some regions as a deadly poison. Phantom’s eyes gleamed as he produced a small penknife from his pocket and a little vial hanging from his belt on a braided scarlet cord. Using the knife, he scraped some of the precious powder off the top of the Geni and placed it into the mouth of the bottle. Once the vial was filled he replaced it and the knife, then wiped his hands to get off any of the extra residue. By the time his task was finished, Pike announced he was officially ready to move on.
“This way,” Phantom gestured to an opening on the side of the cave. Pike squinted behind his spectacles and peered at the entrance.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Yes,” Phantom said, and started forward. The cave was favorable for shorter persons. Even Phantom, who was just barely five feet tall, had problems with his head brushing the roof of the cavern. Pike went the first few steps with no problems, for he was an entire three inches shorter.
“Who dug this cavern? Dwarves?” he asked grumpily, bumping his head on a low-hanging stalactite.
“It is a natural formation,” said Phantom, ducking low to avoid sharing the same fate. “Even most dwarves would have a hard time getting through.”
“Trust you to know that. Ow!” Pike rubbed his skull. The roof was getting lower, and Phantom was having to stoop. “Ow, ow, ow! What gives?”
Phantom didn’t answer but rather continued forward.
The cavern was began to shrink smaller and smaller as they advanced. Soon they were both crawling on their stomachs, and Pike was having a hard time squeezing his plump form through the narrow passage. Phantom, being slender as a whip, was even beginning to doubt himself.
Pike began to panic.
“It can’t possibly get any smaller!” he exclaimed, panic building in his voice. “We’ll get stuck! We’ll be buried alive!”
“No, we won’t!” Phantom hissed, able to swivel his head just enough to glare at the man over his shoulder. “We’re almost there. Just a little bit more.”
The cavern pressed in on them from all sides, squeezing the very breath from their lungs, it seemed. And it was so dark and stifling, the rocks chewed up their hands and scraped against their faces until they were sure that they were leaving drag marks.
After what seemed an eternity, Phantom’s head poked out, scattering small rocks and bits of dirt. He squirmed and wriggled until he was able to scramble completely out.
“Help!” came Pike’s panicked voice. “I’m stuck!”
Phantom turned back to the hole and grab the man’s arms, tugging with everything he had in him. Pike whimpered and moaned, muttering something about needing to be greased out, when at last with a rip of fabric and a squeal of protest, he was out and standing with Phantom on the ledge.
“Wow,” he said, his voice echoing oddly. They had entered an entirely different section of the cave that was wider than the other one by far. The ledge they were standing on was elevated off the ground. Neither could calculate how far, for they could not see the ground. The roof scraped low over their heads, but if they fell it was a long way to the bottom, if the fall itself did not kill them first the impact as they hit the ground (if indeed there was one) would also prove fatal.
“Great, how do we get down?” Pike asked.
“I don’t know,” Phantom said quietly. “I didn’t think this far…” he trailed off.
“What is it?” Pike demmanded. Phantom pointed wordlessly to the space in front of them. A stone slide about three feet wide that dipped dangerously at one point stretched out as far as they could see. It was made up entirely of green and gold bricks. The surface was slick, as if coated with ice. Pike bent over it and put his hand to the stone.
“It’s cold, like marble,” he said, and looked up incredulously. “Are you certain this cave was not dug by dwarves?” he looked back to the slide. “I wonder where it ends.”
“Only one way to find out,” Phantom stepped forward and placed his boot between Pike’s shoulderblades and gave him a slight shove forward. The little man’s eyes flew wide as he tumbled and landed flat on his stomach. The slide went straight down, and so did he, at a frightening speed.
Phantom watched him disappear from view and listened for the cracking of bones or any other sign indicating his companion had hit the bottom. After a moment’s wait there was still nothing, and he determined that the only way to find out was to try it for himself. He sat down at the top of the slide, hands resting on either side. After taking a deep breath he shoved himself forward and started his descent.
At first, the slide only went straight down, and after a while it began to get a bit tedious. But then Phantom came to a series sharp turns with which he had to maneuver his body so as not to fall off the edge. Up ahead, he could see the point where the slide splitted into two different sections, one of which was completely gold and the other which was completely green. He wondered which to choose, but he needn’t have bothered, because the slide chose for him. The next time he looked up he was sliding down the green path, and the gold path was well far behind him.


While Phantom was sliding down the green slide, Pike was sliding down the gold one. He hadn’t noticed, of course, because his eyes were shut tightly and his fists were clenched as he waited for the end.
The end never came, although he thought for a brief second that it had when the slide came to a sudden halt and he dropped. Wind whistled past his ears and made his baggy clothing flap, he probably could have flown had he put his mind to it. The drop seemed to last hours, but for all he knew it could have been only a few seconds. At last, he landed on top of a pile of something hard.
He opened his eyes slowly. First the right, then the left. He had not, as he suspected, landed on top of the bones of past trespassers. Instead, he had landed on a heap of gold coins! Perhaps he was dreaming, or maybe he had died after all and landed in Heaven. Either way, he was perfectly content. He sat up and looked about. There were more than one pile, and they were all at least ten or twenty feet high. It was not just gold, either, it was jewels and rich clothes, silver goblets and string after string of pearls. It was was diamonds, opals, sapphires, rubies, emeralds, and aquamarine. Pike’s eyes widened and he rubbed his hands together. All this wealth, his for the taking!
He looked around for something with which to carry some of the stuff, but all he could find were either little jewel boxes that were much too small or were golden trunks filled with treasure and weighed a ton. He was hovering on the brink of dismay when he had a sudden thought. Taking the leather bag that was slung over his shoulder, Pike emptied it of its contents and began to fill it with whatever he could fit in. And what wouldn’t fit in the bag fit into his pockets, until there was no possible way he could hold anymore. He put rings on his fingers and bracelets on his wrists, he stuffed his shirt full of pearl strands and filled his shoes with ancient coins. Once he could not fit another thing on his person, Pike cast one last longing glance at all the treasure he would not be able to take and then attempted to stand. It hadn’t occurred to him how much all that gold would actually weigh, and once he had finally managed to stand up he toppled back over the side, the weight of his wealth dragging him down with nothing to hold onto.
His head hit the floor and red pain washed over him. He moaned and closed his eyes, only to have them fly open right after when a voice shrieked, “You greedy little goat! What do you think you are doing?”
Pike tilted his head upwards to see a woman standing over him. A most gorgeous woman. She wore a dress the same shimmery gold as her surroundings, and her hair was adorned with strands of precious jewels. One hand was resting on her hip and the other was resting limply by her side, clutching a bejewled dagger. Pike stared at her for a long moment, but pain forced him to close his eyes again, and he felt a prick against the soft skin of his jaw, as well as a thin line of blood drip down his neck.

Phantom’s ride ended in a hall that was, oddly enough, exactly like the one he had dreamt about the previous night. The walls, emerald green engraved with strange gold runes, held ever-burning torches that blazed green fire in sconces carved to resemble grotesque faces. The hall stretched on forever with no visible end, and behind him was a dead end. There were no doors or openings, and the only way was forward.
Sighing heavily with the realization that he had run out of options, he started walking. There was a slight breeze that caused the torches to flicker, so he knew there had to be an opening somewhere. Meanwhile, the hall never changed. Everything remained the same, even the runes on the wall. If Phantom had bothered to study them he would have realized that they were written in Akli, considered a dead language by most. In its time it had been the main language spoken in Sèntrài, and these particular runes formed a canticle that repeated itself and echoed down the hall wherever it was written, as a ward against mortal intruders.
The runes had no affect against Phantom. To him they were just empty, dead, without any meaning. His mortal body began to shake, jerk, and twitch in odd places, but he had not a mortal soul, so he forced his body to steady itself and continued on his way.
The hall finally ended at a door. As Phantom approached it, he could see that it too, was covered in runes of Akli, but different ones. The door was also protected with numerous glyphs and spells in other languages, some older and forgotten, some newer and considerably less powerful. Again, these had no affect on him, but he still probably couldn’t unlatch the door or pull it open to get in. Luckily he didn’t have to worry about that, the door was wide open, and that was where the breeze was coming from.
After throwing a cautionary spell of protection over himself just in case, he stepped through.
Immediately, his head was filled with thousands of different thoughts at once. He fell to his knees, unaware that he was screaming, and looked around wildly for the source. It was filled with the sounds he remembered from his dream, and they were so loud and so numerous that his head began to hurt and his eyes began to water. Again he looked around, and although his vision was clouded he could still make out the figure of a woman standing nearby. She was dressed head to toe in green. She wore a green sleevless ball gown and had green ribbons braided into her long dark brown hair. He saw her as she approached him, reaching out with one hand for his neck.
“Your necklace,” she breathed. “It’s so beautiful.” There was a pause, and she drew her hand back, her voice now bitter. “You know what all those sounds are?”
Phantom shook his head, relieved to know that she could hear them to and that he wasn’t going crazy. His head was hurting worse than it had in days, and the noise made it impossible for him to sort through his thoughts.
“I have always liked to watch you mortals, and have always envied the things you have. Most of all I’ve wanted your voices. How different they are, varying from woman to man and from man to beast. My voice has always been the same, and it will never change.”
Phantom thought she had a lovely voice, but of course he couldn’t say so. So many words crammed in the back of his throat danced their way onto his tongue, but they struggled to come out all at once and ran into each other, creating a slur of unintelligent speech.
“You have a wonderful voice,” the woman continued. “Young and strong. Once I slip the Mirror from your neck, I can rip your voice from your throat. Won’t that be lovely? Then I can put it in a box like those shiny little baubles in my sister’s collection.” Her green eyes flashed, and she stamped her foot, so hard the ground fairly shook. “Avarice always gets what she wants!”
Phantom struggled to gather his thoughts, but it was impossible. He glanced around the room for any possible means of escape, only then did he noticed that only one end of the room was green. The other end was pure gold.
Another woman stepped into view. She was dressed entirely in gold, and in one hand she carried a dagger while in the other hand she dragged an unconcious Pike by his shirt. She dropped him to the ground with a heavy thud.
“I caught an intruder in my treasury, Envy,” she said.
“And I found the man who has the Mirror of Disillusion, Avarice.” Envy replied.
Envy, Avarice, the sins…
Of course! Phantom knew now what was going on. He closed his eyes, drawing long, slow breaths, and pushed Envy’s spell into the very back of his mind, bringing forth his own thoughts. Envy and Avarice went hand in hand, it only made sense that he would have to face both of them at the same time.
Thoughts sorted once more, he looked up just in time to see Avarice turn to face him, dark fury clouding her features.
“That’s my mirror!” she shrieked. She lunged forward, her long gold nails like unsheathed claws, and Phantom moved away just in time. Her dagger nicked his shoulder, opening the wound he had achieved in the fight with Ralavar, which had until now been healed over. He stood, slipping in his own blood, and began to run. Avarice chased after him, screaming in her rage and frustration. Envy gave an exasperated cry.
“You always get to do the killing, why do I never get to do the killing?” she wailed. She too, lunged forward, but Phantom tripped her and she staggered forward, using her sister to break her fall.
Avarice screamed again and twisted around with uncanny spead, stabbing her sister in the back with her dagger.
“He has my mirror!” she shrieked. “I want back my mirror!”
“It was never your mirror!” Envy wailed, and she grabbed hold of her sister’s throat. Avarice choked and continued to stab her sister. Blood flew everywhere, splattering Phantom across the face as he watched the two sins kill each other. Avarice raised her knife one last time, and at the same time Envy squeezed her hardest. Avarice’s hand came down one last time, and then she died from lack of air. Envy too, died, her sister’s dagger through her heart as she lay in a pool of her own blood.


5
Vanity

“No!” Vanity screamed. “No, no, no! Dead! They’re both dead!”
“I suspected as much,” Lust remarked as she lay draped leisurely over the arms of her master’s throne.
Wrath stomped over to the crystal, fury raging in her eyes.
“The fool,” she spat. “He thinks he’s ridding the world of us, but he is wrong! You can’t kill sin, you can’t kill evil. He may be killing us but if he thinks he is playing hero by ridding the world of all sin he is wrong!”
“He is not trying to play hero,” Lust replied coolly. “He is focused only on self-preservation and his own goals.”
Vanity twisted her beautiful hands and bit her lower lip so hard she nearly drew blood. Everyone knew which Sin Lord Valadik would send out next, if he decided to send out any at all. Even so she prayed that he would not send her, she was simply too young and beautiful to die!
Of course, she thought. If I retrieve the mirror for him, it doesn’t matter how scarred I get in the battle, he will restore my beauty as my reward. Perhaps he shall make me even more beautiful than I am now – if that is possible!
Oh yes, the idea had merit.

First thing Phantom did was tend to his own wounds. He took off his shirt and ripped it into strips, using the cloth first on his forearm and then wrapped it around his hands, which were bleeding from the million tiny jagged cuts they had received during the crawl through the tunnel.
By the time he had finished, Pike was starting to stir. Phantom stuffed the remaining scraps of cloth into his pocket and went over to him. He noticed for the first time how much jewelry Pike was wearing, and how the bag he carried was bulging. Then he understood. Avarice had found Pike in her treasury. He had arrived there a little before Phantom had arrived at Envy, and had been helping himself to the sin’s wealth. The poor bastard.
Pike turned his head to face Phantom and the first thing out of his mouth was; “What happened to your shirt?”
Phantom held out his hands as a reply.
“Oh,” Pike struggled to sit up, jingling like a christmas sleigh. “Dem,” he muttered, feeling about himself. “Forgot I tossed the wine.”
“The last thing you need, my moronic friend, is wine. Tell me, why did you toss the wine in favor of jewels? If we die on this journey of dehydration, none of this wealth shall be of any use to you. Did you think of that, pray tell?”
Pike shook his head shamefully.
“No,” he murmured, looking down guiltily. “I didn’t.”
“Well, I don’t think it was entirely your fault.”
“Really?”
“Of course not. We both know that your wits left you long ago along with your common sense.”
Pike’s expression wavered, uncertain about whether or not he had been paid a compliment. Phantom shook his head.
“I rest my case,” he stood up. “We better get going.”
“What sins were those?” Pike asked, trying his best not to look at the gruesome aftermath of the event.
“Envy and Avarice.”
“How did you kill them?”
“I didn’t have to. They killed each other.” He looked to the bulging leather bag Pike was dragging behind him like a sack of potatoes. “We’ll use that money of yours to get us food and lodging in the next town. That is, if we leave this place alive.”
“Bottle of laughs you are,” Pike reached for the flask on his belt, but remembered he had chucked that in favor of a strand of multi-colored crystals. Phantom carried a water bottle on his back, from which he drank from sparingly, but he refused to share as part of Pike’s punishment, he said, for dropping their food.
“The only problem now is getting out of this cave,” Phantom said. “Any ideas?”
“We could try over there,” Pike pointed towards a small door across the room, leaking purple light. A frown creased Phantom’s forehead.
“Odd how I didn’t see that,” he muttered.
Pike beamed, proud to be the first one to spot something that would help them.
“Well, I don’t see any other options, so come on,” he grabbed Pike’s hand and practically dragged him across the room over to the door. Close up, the could see the door was made out of silver, gilded gold leaves and vines twisted into elaborate patterns framed a a single budding rose in the middle. There was no handle, but rather the door simply pushed open. It was heavy and hard to move, but eventually they got through to the other side.
The other side was nothing but empty space on either side of a silver staircase. The staircase led up to another door, but beyond that there was nothing.
“Should we try it?” Pike asked, praying that the answer would be “no”.
“Yes,” Phantom said. “Or else we’ll be wondering the rest of our lives what might have happened.” He put his foot on the first step. It held firm, and he took another step.
Once he was five steps up, Pike began to follow him. There was no handrail, and the stairs were narrow. Pike couldn’t help but glance over the side every now and then and think of how if he fell it would be a dreadfully long way down.
The staircase spiraled on upwards. The climb itself actually felt shorter than it was. In no time at all, it seemed, they had reached the top.
The door, now that they were standing right in front of it, seemed to be made of amethysts. The purple gems glowed with a bright inner light. This one did have a handle, it was silver and shaped like a flower. Pike looked at Phantom, who shrugged and reached out, his long fingers wrapped around the knob. It was jammed. While he fussed with it, Pike took a peak around the side of the door and was surprised to see nothing behind it, just more black space. Were they going through all this trouble to open a door that led to nothing?
He pulled himself back. Before he could ask, Phantom had unstuck the door using a spell, and it opened without the hinges making a sound. To both their surprise and amazement, the door opened up to a room, a very odd room.
The room was a full 360º circle. The floor was glass, and the walls were paneled with mirrors. In the middle of the room was a raised stand, of course colored purple, and on top of it stood a woman, who was wearing all purple, from her long purple hair to her purple lips and flowing purple dress. She stood so still Pike wondered if she was made of wax. In her hand she held a small silver handled mirror. The only way they could tell she was alive at all was because every now and then she would reach up to touch a part of her face and mutter to herself about how perfect they were.
Who knows how long they stood there, just staring at her. She was beautiful, in her own odd way. Phantom’s reverie was shattered when Pike stood on his toes and whispered into his ear, “Is that Lust?”
“No,” Phantom snapped back. “Does that look like Lust to you?”
“Um, yes,” Pike answered.
Phantom snorted.
“It’s Vanity,” he said. “Can’t you tell?”
“Not really, or I wouldn’t have asked if it was Lust.”
“It’s so bloody obvious.”
Distracted by their whispered conversation, Vanity turned her head and studied them. She managed to force a smile.
“Hello,” she said to Phantom, although she was looking at the Mirror of Disillusion. “My, what a lovely Mirror. May I have it?”
Phantom covered the Mirror which now hung against his bare chest protectively with one bandaged hand.
“No,” he answered.
“So, so, so,” she purred. “May I see it then? It’s such a lovely thing.”
“You have plenty of mirrors,” Pike said, casting one eye over the room. “I doubt you need his.”
“I just want to see it,” she stretched out one white hand. Phantom hesitated, then lifted the chain from his neck and laid it across her palm. Pike looked at him in alarm.
“Are you INSANE?” he whispered.
“Shh,” Phantom put a finger to his lips. “Don’t worry, I know what I am doing.”
“Thank you,” Vanity cooed, cradling the Mirror in both hands. “I just want to look at myself once, and then I’ll give it back, I promise.”
“Yeah, right.” Pike scoffed.
Vanity shot him a black look that completely marred her beautiful face and lifted up the Mirror of Disillusion.
“AIEEEE!” she screamed. She dropped the mirror immediately, but Phantom caught it before it hit the ground simply by extending one hand and grabbing the chain. Vanity’s reflection still remained on the surface, and Pike saw what had caused her to scream. Instead of her beautiful face it had shown the face of a crone, old and ugly, with liver spots on her forehead and wrinkles within her wrinkles. Bushy gray eyebrows settled over a hawk-like nose with a wart on the end, and a few sparse hairs grew on her chin. Thin, nearly invisible lips parted to reveal crooked, green teeth. Pike looked away.
“That’s you, Vanity,” Phantom taunted. “Oh, you may be beautiful outside, but inside, you are ugly. Ugly as your reflection. That is what the Mirror of Disillusioning is, it shows your true self.”
Vanity, still screaming, rushed to one of the windows against the wall to assure herself that she was still beautiful and that the reflection had been no more than a horrible prank. But before she could reach it, the glass shattered from its frame and fell to the floor. Her screams grew more shrill and panicked, and she moved to another mirror. The same thing happened to all the mirrors she approached. A simple wave of Phantom’s hand was all it took for the mirrors to burst.
When all her mirrors had been destroyed, Vanity put both hands to her head in distress and sank down to her knees on the stand, groping about for the small hand mirror. It wasn’t there, of course, Phantom was holding it.
“Are you looking for this?” he asked. She looked up, real tears running down her cheeks along with her mascara. Her hair was disheveled and her face was red from sobbing and hysterical screaming. She wasn’t quite so beautiful now, but Pike felt almost sorry for her.
“Please, give it back,” she begged. Phantom taunted her further by tossing the mirror from hand to hand until Pike leaned over and said, “Give it back.”
Phantom shot him an annoyed look, but then he shrugged it off and looked back at Vanity.
“Here, catch,” he tossed it into the air and it landed in her lap. She snatched it up and her hand flew to her mouth when she glimpsed at her haggard appearance. She was still making attempts to smooth her hair back into place when she whimpered and fell forward, her blood streaming between her fingers as she clutched her chest.
Phantom walked over to her and placed his boot on the small of her back as he pulled his dagger out.
“Why did you have to do that?” Pike asked, looking at Vanity.
“You felt sorry for her,” it was not a question.
“Well, yes,” Pike admitted.
“I put an end to her misery,” Phantom said, wiping his dagger clean. “Trust me.”
“You cold, callus, unfeeling, uncaring…!”
“Are you quite finished?”
“Hardly,” Pike took a deep breath as if to continue on his tirade, but Phantom shushed him with a word.
“Come,” he waved his dagger in the direction of a dark hole in the wall that was behind a bent and tarnished silver mirror frame. “Our exit.”


6
Wrath

“Can I have him?” Wrath asked viciously, turning to Lust. Her sister yawned, uncaring.
“Go for it,” she replied. “We both know the master is in no condition to make a decision right now.”
Wrath fingered the whip on her belt.
“I’ll be back soon,” she vowed. “And I’ll have the Mirror with me.”
Lust smiled but didn’t reply.

“This place stinks,” remarked Pike, scrunching up his nose. The walls of the tunnel were coated with a slimy residue that rubbed off on whatever had the misfortune to scrape against it and then clung to whatever it could grab hold of. Pike tried to rub the stuff off on his pant leg, but that only worsened it. “It smells like someone dumped out the contents of a loo.”
“Decay and death, you’ll be used to it by the time this is all over,” Phantom replied, sweeping aisde a cobweb with one hand.
“Marvelous,” Pike said sarcastically. He had shed his cloak not long ago due to the increasing warmth of the tunnel and now it lay draped over his arm. Phantom, still shirtless, did not seem to be having a problem.
“Don’t worry, my dear Pike, it’s almost over. Only two sins left to go.”
“And then, food,” Pike began dreamily. “And none of that stringy Crawler meet, either. I want venison and ham smoked over coals and I want bread rolls as big as my face, golden-brown and fresh from the oven. I want sweet, chilled strawberry wine…”
“That’s enough, Pike.” There was a subtle warning in the words. Pike clamped his mouth shut.
The tunnel was warming up. The walls began to glow brightly like live coals and were even hot to the touch. The loose dirt on the floor turned to ash, and the air smelled stale with smoke.
“Is the Drüel Mountain a volcano?” Pike asked.
“No,” Phantom answered tersely. “I have a feeling we are approaching the Sixth Sin.”
“And which sin would that be?”
“Wrath,”
“My least favorite of the Seven.” Pike’s clothes were beginning to stink from the mixture of sweat and precious metal against his skin.
“Don’t worry, it won’t be any worse than the others.”
Yeah, thought Pike. That’s what you think.

The cave smelled slightly of sulfur. It caused Phantom’s eyes to water and his vision to blur. He irritably blinked the moisture away, he had to remain as focused as possible.
He had some time ago lost track of where they were headed. Of course, when they started he knew they were headed straight for the top, but the whole thing with the secret cavern and the slides that took them downward through him off course. He wasn’t sure they were even in the World of Form anymore. And even if they were, was it possible that they were going down in the mountain, instead of up? And what if they were in the Realm of Spirits? Where were they then?
He shook the thoughts away. He was familiar with both places, it was the in-between he hated.
The cave did not get smaller but it did get smellier. Pike had pinched his nostrils together and was complaining non-stop about the acrid smell. Which, as he put it, smelled like a troll fart. Phantom pursed his lips, wholly agreeing. The cave did possess a certain…odor.
“And the worst thing is that it will be rubbing off on us.” Pike said as he tried not to touch the wall. “Blood of the gods, a person would have to have his nose amputated before moving here!”
“Would you stop concentrating on the smell and help me out for one bloody second?” Phantom asked, irritated. The cave was getting warmer, and beads of sweat were glistening on his forehead and on his bare chest. “Lud, you are a waste of life!”
Pike looked truly offended.
“I’m sorry…” he began slowly. Phantom silenced him with a dismissive wave of his hand.
“Whatever,” he said. “Just help me look for the exit.”
For the next few moments, both concentrated fully on an escape from the tunnel. Phantom found it first. He placed his hand on a rock and it moved, taking a good chunk of the wall away with it and revealing a way out. Phantom bowed, indicating Pike should be the first to enter.
“No way am I going in there without any foreknowledge on whether or not it is safe.” The man protested, hugging his leather bag still bulging with the bulk of heavy jewels close to his chest. Phantom rubbed his chin.
“And what is your definition of ‘safe’ exactly?” he wanted to know.
“Free from all things lethal,” Pike explained.
“Such as…?” Phantom pressed.
“Bats, spiders, and venomous snakes,” Pike said, shieding away from an uncommonly large and hairy beetle that crossed his path. “Beetles, too.”
“You are being ridiculous. Go in.” Phantom commanded. “Or do I have to push you in?”
Pike glared and stepped into the dark hole. It was so dark he could not see his own fingers although he put them directly in front of his eyes and wiggled them. Heat immediately brushed against his cheeks, turning them a shade brighter of red. Blood of the gods, it was like stepping into an oven. Pike turned around to warn Phantom, but his companion had already stepped in and shut the door behind them.
Lovely, we’re trapped. Pike thought sarcastically. What convinced me to tag along with this odd chappy I’ll never know. But if I survive this I swear I shall never again move from in front of the tele. I prefer to watch other people have adventures, now that I come to really think on it. Too bad I didn’t happen upon that conclusion earlier, it would have saved me a lot of pain and humiliation.
“What are you thinking about?” Phantom’s finger jabbed him in the small of the back, prodding him forward. “Get a move on.”
Pike shot Phantom a dark look – mainly because he knew it was too dark to see.
“Pike, I can feel the heat of your glare.” Phantom said impatiently.
“That’s not the heat of my glare, that is the heat of this cave,” Pike said. “I am going to die of heatstroke.” He pulled off his white shirt and set it on the ground. The pearls that he had stuffed down his neckline scattered all over the place, making a noise that sounded somewhat like mini hailstones rapidly barraging the cave, which reverted the sound back to them only upped about a thousand octaves. When it was all over, Phantom was glaring at Pike, whom he could just barely see only by the bare white skin of his naked chest. “Thank you,” he said, his voice dripping sarcasm. “For announcing our presence so elegantly to anyone and everyone nearby.”
“I’m sorry!” Pike exclaimed, tired of apologizing.
“Whatever.” Phantom said wearily.
“Cad,” Pike said venomously.
“Moron,” Phantom replied evenly.
Pike sighed and sat down, putting his face into his hands.
“There has to be some spell at work here,” he said, his voice slightly muffled.
“Pike darling, I’d still be mad at you even if there wasn’t a spell working its way into my brain.” Phantom assured him. Pike looked at him from between his fingers.
“So someone is putting a spell over us?” he asked.
Phantom nodded an affirmitive.
“Lovely.”
A light ahead of them broke through the awkward silence that followed. It was not a warm, welcoming light as one might expect, but rather it was orange and fierce, with tongues of flame casting shadows on the wall. It sort of made you just want to turn around and run the other way.
“I think we’ve found her,” Phantom announced. Pike rolled his eyes heavenward but made no reply.
They continued forward, and Phantom brought their progress to a halt by extending one arm and preventing Pike from falling over an edge. This snapped the little fellow back into reality and he looked around, eyes wide.
They had walked straight into a fire pit.


“You know,” Pike said after a long pause as he adjusted his spectacles. “This is rather close to what I always thought Hell would look like.”
Phantom only nodded his head in agreement.
The ledge they were standing on was actually a raised dais on which were three steps leading up to another dais on which sat a throne. And on the throne was Wrath.
Phantom and Pike slowly rotated until they were facing the Sixth Sin. The throne upon which she sat was made of human bones. The legs were made with leg bones, the arms with arm bones, the back was like one giant ribcage that wrapped around to a point where it stopped and connected with the arms. The top was made of spinal cords that came together at a point and were held together by a grinning skull.
Wrath herself was dressed all in red, her red gown spread out like a fabulous bloodstain. Her hair was the same sparkling crimson as her dress, her eyes were like smoldering coals.
Phantom shivered at the sheer morbidity of the scene. The look behind her eyes hinted to him that she was weaving some special plans for their torture, and the way she was fingering the braided rawhide whip on her belt did nothing but support this theory.
Surrounding the entire dais was a deep pit, and the pit was lined with geisers that spouted fire every third second. The flames on the bottom leapt higher and highter until they licked the hem of Wrath’s dressed and blackened the tips of her bare toes. A cold smile twisted her cruel features.
“Why are you here?” she demmanded. Her voice was odd, almost electronic.
“I might ask you the same thing,” Phantom countered, fingering the mirror. “Although I have a hunch I already know what your reason is.”
“Dem right. Hand over the mirror.” She held out her hand commandingly.
“No,” said Phantom, looking her straight in the eye. She immediately clammed up, and withdrew her hand.
“Why not?” she asked, sounding like she might explode.
“Because, you didn’t say please.” He told her with a charming smile.
She hissed in fury and stood up, drawing her whip from her belt and allowing it to unfurl slowly, the spiked tip hovering just an inch above the ground. Without warning, she lashed out. The whip stung Phantom’s left cheek and he felt the blood well up but he didn’t move, he just continued to look at her.
This, somehow, made her even more furious and she lashed out again. This time Pike was misfortunate enough to be standing in her way, and he received a large welt on the back of his calf. He howled against the pain and tears rolled down his round red cheeks. Phantom had no time for pity, as that when she lashed out again with deadly accuracy, he had to dive out of her way.
“What a nice chair,” he said by way of distraction. “I wonder where you got the bones. Did you kill all the victims yourself?”
“I did,” Wrath said, a distinctive note of pride in her voice. “I killed them all one by one, ripping them apart painfully and mercilessly. And no amount of begging or pleading could convince me otherwise.”
“How cruel you are. Must’ve been quite a show.” He dodged another blow with the whip.
“It was,” Wrath assured him.
“Wish I could have seen it,”
“Oh, you will be experiencing it.” Wrath promised as she struck once more with her whip. Phantom caught it in mid-strike, it wrapped around his hand and down his arm, the very tip digging into the flesh just above his shoulder.He grimaced and pulled, hard, jerking the whip from her hands.
She screamed in fury and her hands plunged into the pockets of her sash as she pulled out a dried eyeball and a vile of Geni poison. She held the ingredients in one hand while she used the other to cut her wrist. Then she crushed the ingredients together, using her blood to wet and mix the ingredients, and flung the poison at Phantom.
The poison hit him full in the face, but did not have the desired effect Wrath had been hoping for. It did not burn holes into his skin or eyes, nor did it cause him to drop to the ground screaming and thrashing in the throes of death. In fact, he took the back of his hand and wiped it from his face as if it were merely water. She hissed again and dug once more into her sash for another spell.
“Pike,” Phantom began, keeping one wary eye on his attacker. “Do you have any Holy Water?”
“Right here, sir!” Pike pulled out a small bottle of it that he kept hanging from his waist.
“Thank you,” Phantom said, taking it and unstopping the cork. There was only a little left, but it would serve its purpose. Without waiting for her to come up with another spell, Phantom took the bottle and thrust its contents on the Sin.
Wrath screamed again, this time in pain, and clawed at her face and eyes, which were burning as if with acid. Phantom took advantage of her temporary blindness and rammed a fist into her chest, sending her toppling over the edge and into the fiery pits.
Pike watched her fall with horrified eyes. Little red creatures with pointed faces and red hats known most commonly as Fieries that seemed to resemble the fire itself reached out with their hands and grabbed onto her clothes. Whatever they touched was immediately burned. There were thousands of them, as if the entirety of their mass made up the pit itself, and they swarmed over her, dragging her under. She went as if pulled down by quicksand, the smell of charred flesh burning in the air.
Phantom wiped the blood from his cheek.
“Ony one Sin left,” he said quietly.

“You must not fail me, my pretty one,” Lord Valadik croaked. Lust smiled prettily and put a slender finger to his lips. “Shh,” she said. “You musn’t talk. Just rest, I shall take care of them. I’ll bring back the Mirror for you, and then we can spend a little time alone while I tell you how I did it.”
Despite the enormous pain he was in, Lord Valadik managed an evil smile.
“I always knew there was a reason I liked doing business with you,” he said.


7
Lust

“How are we supposed to find the last Sin?” Pike asked.
“I have no idea,” Phantom answered.
“And how will we know it?” Pike wasn’t about to give up. Phantom waved his hand vaguely.
“Believe me,” he said. “You’ll know it.”
Pike was worried. His friend had hardly raised his voice above a gentle whisper since the ordeal with Wrath. It was as if all this killing and adventuring were finally taking their toll. The man deserved a holiday. Pike vowed that as soon as this was all over he would make sure that he got one.
“I have another question,” Pike said. “How do you plan to deal with this Sin once we find her?”
Phantom smiled slightly.
“I have an idea,” he said.

Phantom was resting. Pike had determined that he would find the Seventh Sin on his own, if need be, rather than disturb his friend. Phantom hadn’t slept in who-knows-how-many-days. Time seemed almost irrevelant in the Realm of Spirits.
Pike had been walking for about an hour when he finally realized that he was going in circles. He checked the map again only to find he had been holding it upside down.
“Confound it!” he shouted, twisting the map of the cave this way and that, trying to find somewhere, anywhere, to go to. All the caves had been either marked “closed off” or “unexplored”. Which of course, was zip help.
“Demmed useless piece of rotting crap,” he growled, wadding the map up and tossing it against the wall. He couldn’t even go back the way he had come! Now he would have to find his way home by merely using his instincts. I’m gonna die.
He took a turn, actually he took several. One of them had to lead somewhere, he figured. So he just picked a random direction and followed it, praying that it was the right one.
Oddly enough, he lucked out and it was.
The scent of cinnamon filled Pike’s nostrils. The scent surprised him at first, but then he breathed it in again, more slowly. It was cinnamon, yes, but there was something warm and welcoming about it, something rather…enticing. It was seductive and sensual and comforting all at the same time. Pike grinned. He had found Lust.
He ducked to avoid hitting his head on the low entrance of the cave but he was clunked in the forehead anyway. After muttering a few profound curses and rubbing his skull he turned to face the scene before him.
The cave had been fashioned to appear extremely comfortable. Divans and couches were spread all over the place. Low-burning candles that burned slowly and dimly were in every corner, lighting up the room with a sensual glow. A stick of incense on the dresser was burning as well, and that was were the scent was coming from. Everything was colored in a warm, cinnamon brown.
At the far corner of the room, Pike immediately noticed Lust. She was sitting on the only bed, which had a sheer veil canopy as the only thing that separated her and her quarry. Her hair was that same warm, cinnamon brown, and her movements were fluid and graceful, as if she were floating rather than walking. She placed one hand on the dangerous curve of her waist and pulled her low v-cut neckline down over her full breasts, exposing a rather interesting cleavage that Pike was suddenly seized with the desire to see more of. He fought the instinct somehow and forced himself to remain neutral, but it was hard.
“Welcome,” she purred, her voice throaty and desirable. “May I help you?” she tugged the neckline down a bit further.
Pike took a step forward without knowing it.
“Yes,” he said, watching fascinatingly as her hands moved down the front of her chest and began unlacing her bodice. She smiled coyly.
“I’ll be glad to serve you,” she cooed. “In any way I can.” The bodice was unlaced, and breasts which had been pushed up now fell back into their natural position. The bodice was tossed aside, and her skirt soon shimmied itself down to gather around her ankles. Next would come the chemise, which she was already working on untying.
I actually think I like this one.
“Please, have a seat,” she gestured seductively to a chair very nearby the bed. Pike accepted the offer, and was glad to sink deeply into the plush, overstuffed cushions and give his poor weary muscles a rest. He glanced around the room, drinking in everything. The inscence, the smoke from the candles, the entire atmosphere was beginning to soak into his head and cloud his reasoning. When he looked back at her, he saw that she had been bold enough to remove all her clothes and was waiting for him at the edge of the bed, her hair loose from its bindings and falling in rich, warm waves around her shoulders. Her ankles hovered in the air over her thighs as she waited, a coy smile still hovering about her lips.
“Come on,” she said. “Let’s get a bit more…comfortable.” She rolled over, and Pike found himself moving to the edge of the bed that she had occupied just moments before. She smiled and shifted to her knees next to him and molded her form against his, her body heat sending shivers of pleasure through his limbs and he realized that he was still shirtless. He blushed.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said, and he could feel her soft lips just ever-so-gently brush his cheek. “You’re here to relax, remember?” she pressed a hand against his generous belly and pushed him backwards, and his head sank into the soft pillow. She removed his spectacles from his nose, and then kissed his forehead, her hair brushing against his cheek.
“Well,” Pike said thoughtfully. “I suppose…” her kiss silenced him, and he closed his eyes.

Phantom stamped angrily as he marched down the passage. He couldn’t believe Pike had been enough of an idiot to go and get himself lost, with the Seventh Sin of Lust running amock!
Well, actually, I can.
He turned, knowing exactly where he was going to end up and what he was going to do when he got there. The fate of the world rested in his hands right now…which he could only hope would prove to be capable ones when they were needed the most.

Phantom found himself in a grand hall. He rubbed the back of his skull, trying to remember exactly when he had passed out, and then twisted his neck to see if he could find out where he was.
The hall was magnifacent to say the very least. In an odd, sort of macabre kind of way. The floor was made of glass, with tendrils of red running through each tile like veins. The walls and domed ceiling were painted with scenes of all nine layers of Hell. The only furniture, a massive obsidian throne that dripped rubies like blood and that was covered in a mesh of sticky silver cobwebs. An sitting on top of it was the most grotesque, horrible creature Phantom had ever seen.
“Who the heck are you?” he asked, without thinking.
Lord Valadik rose to greet his guest.
He was in terrible condition. During the fall of his sins he had lost an eye, acquired a broken nose and broken wrist, acquired knife wounds in many more areas than one, and had had the entire left side of his face burned away to practically nothing, the flesh completely melted away and leaving nothing but bone with patches of muscle still stubbornly clinging. Phantom could not help but flinch as he stood.
Lord Valadik opened his mouth to reply to the question, but Phantom held out a hand.
“Wait, let me guess,” he said. “I have seen all the sins. And sins are only part of Evil, and you must be Lord Valadik, who has control of the sins. Which, I’m guessing, makes you Evil?”
Lord Valadik bowed. Phantom snapped his fingers and grinned in self-satisfaction.
“Dang it, I am good,” he said, folding his arms.
“You have killed all my sins,” Valadik said woefully. “Or six of them, as far as I know, Lust is not yet dead.”
“No,” Phantom said. “But she will be.”
Valadik sighed.
Phantom felt to adjust the mirror on his neck, but just as he was doing so, the chain, sensing its master was present, snapped in two. Phantom reached down to pick it up but his foot shifted and knocked it across the floor. It came to rest at the worn toe of Valadik’s leather boot.
“The Mirror of Disillusion,” he said with some satisfaction. “You must admit there is no equal. I know you’ve used it once, on Vanity…” he looked up. “But have you ever thought to use it on yourself?” he turned the Mirror and thrust it towards Phantom’s face.
The face of the Mirror shifted and changed as it had when Phantom had turned it on Vanity, but only this time, the face turned inky black and then remained completely still. Phantom waited a moment and then a look of irritance flashed across his face.
“Yes,” he said. “Good luck even finding my soul.” He knocked the Mirror from Lord Valadik’s hand, catching it just before it hit the ground. “Valadik, you fool, I am the Mirror’s master now!” the chain to the Mirror instantly reconnected, and he placed it around his neck once more.
Valadik howled in rage.
“No!” he screamed. “You can’t do that!”
“I’m afraid I can,” Phantom shrugged. “Ah well. Sorry old chap, better luck next time.”
Valadik gritted his teeth.
“For you, there is no next time!” he exclaimed furiously. He stepped back, spreading his arms. “Foolish boy! You can’t kill me! Evil cannot be destroyed!”
“How true,” Phantom replied nonchalantly. “However, with one exception. I can’t kill Evil, but I can kill an incarnation of Evil. So I can kill you, Lord Valadik, even if I cannot destroy what you are.”
There was a pause, and then Valadik threw back his head and laughed harshly.
“And how do you propose to do that?” he sneered. “I am invincible! Nothing can touch me!”
“Again, true with one exception. Nothing can harm you except what happens to your Sins happens to you.” Phantom was almost enjoying himself.
“So?” Lord Valadik scoffed. “You’ve killed all my sins! I’m not dead yet.”
Phantom sighed.
“I hate it when villains are dull,” he muttered. He gestured to the shadows. “Pike, will you bring our pretty little Sin in, please?”
Pike emerged from the shadows, dragging Lust by her hair, who was kicking and screaming and shouting foul obscenities. Phantom admired her language but was a bit shocked to see she was naked and wondered what Pike had been doing to occupy his time. In one hand, the little man carried a sword much too big for him. Lord Valadik’s eyes widened.
“Pike,” said Phantom. “Lop off her head.”
“Aye, captain,” Pike saluted, and dropped Lust, using both hands to grip the sword handle and lift it up. For only a minute, he seemed to hesitate. “Um,” he said, looking askance at Phantom. “Must I?”
“YES!”
“Oh, fine,” Pike muttered, and struck off Lust’s head.
Valadik screamed, and blood sprayed everywhere as his head, too, fell.
Phantom sighed in relief.
“Glad that’s over,” he said, and cast a suspicious look at Pike. Pike threw up his hands defensively.
“Nothing happened!” he protested.
“Sure,” Phantom wiped sweat from his brow. “Whatever you say.”
“Really!” Pike looked down at Lust as if regretting his actions but realizing all the same that they were nessecary, and then looked back at Phantom. “So, where to now?”
“For you, home. For me, Sèntrài.” Phantom replied.
“Fine by me,” Pike said, shouldering his heavy leather bag. “I’ve got a king’s ransom in jewels here that is just begging me to be spent. Once we get back to the World of Form, we’ll stop in the nearest town for a pint, my treat.”

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Tag der Veröffentlichung: 24.03.2010

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