by Sawyer Black
Henry didn’t know what he was saying anymore. It probably didn’t matter. Adam stiffened as Henry pulled him in tighter. This boy had been through a hundred lifetimes of pain. How many more to go? He murmured comfort into his ear, and all at once, Adam gasped, collapsing against Henry’s bloody chest.
“Henry!” Shuddering sobs, and Adam took a quivering breath. “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry, Henry.”
Big Ben drew a whooping breath, and the nun rushed to his side, dropping to her knees beside him.
The old man stepped back with his hands ushering Aela behind him.
Henry watched the pool of his own blood spread beneath him. The big bastard’s sword had dug deep. The perfect weapon against a demon’s skin.
Henry closed his eyes, feeling himself sink into the ground. Darkness closed in on him. He had been trying to teach Adam a lesson about … something he couldn’t remember.
The darkness below him opened into fire as he fell. Heat from the flames burned the air from his lungs. His skin bubbled and burned.
Finally.
Henry was on his way to Hell.
I’ll find you, baby girl. Daddy’s coming.
Chapter Five
A face hovered in front of him.
Dark and cracked like an old boot. Eyes squinted in their inspection, the old brow wrinkled in concentration.
“I got a booger on my lip or something?” Henry asked.
The face jerked back in surprise. An old woman in black robes rocked back in a chair next to his bed. Her small hands fluttered up to her chest like birds. Her white-lined hood flew back to expose gray hair in tight curls.
“Oh my,” she squeaked.
She pulled her hood back up and folded her hands in her lap. “You must forgive me. I’ve never seen a demon up close like this.”
Henry stretched and sat up, throwing the sheet back and swinging his feet over the side. His claws clicked off rough stone. “And what do you think?”
“To be honest, I’m rather unimpressed.”
Henry laughed at the ceiling. He looked back down, and she was joining him with a smile of her own. He gave his head a rueful shake. “You and my first prom date, Sister.”
She sobered and pointed to a white ewer on the stand next to the bed. “The boy said you’d be thirsty. After he laid hands on you, your soul came back into your body in a rush of light, and your wounds closed. He healed you sure as I’m breathing.”
Henry grabbed the pitcher and tipped it up eagerly, then stilled when he saw the wall at the head of the bed. Clocks covered every inch of the white plaster. Ticking silently. Hands marking off seconds. Animated eyes darting back and forth. Pulsing LED dots. Nixie numbers glowing in tubes.
He drank the water with his eyes scanning every face, all of them moving in perfect unison. 7:05 am.
“I’ve never seen a soul fall to Hell, before.”
Henry dragged his eyes away from the time. He finished the water and set the pitcher down with a gasping breath. “Huh?”
“Or to be pulled back. It’s something I’m glad I lived to witness.”
He flashed back to Adam’s claws slashing in his fury.
Henry shook his head. “I don’t follow, Sister.”
The nun leaned forward. “Usually when somebody dies here, they simply cease to be. No Heaven or Hell for the souls that are trapped. Not without passage. But a savage fire opened beneath you, and the flames licked up to consume your flesh.”
Henry swallowed his disappointment. To be alive here instead of in Hell felt like betrayal. Like Boothe asking him to kill a sweet little boy.
A boy with a fucking temper.
Henry raised his eyebrows in mock disbelief. “No shit?”
“Yes. And that’s why I think Abraham brought you inside. The fires of Hell are reserved for the punishment of humans.”
“That’s some shaky logic.”
She smiled. “I thought so, but he leads us. Who am I to argue?”
“That’s right. Who are you?”
“Sister Gladys Hines.”
Henry stuck out his good hand. “Henry Black. Pleased to meet you.”
Her eyes moved from his hands to his face. She set her jaw and took his hand in a firm grip. One pump, and she let go, snatching her hand back to her lap.
Good enough for me.
“So, where’s Adam?”
“He’s by the Dreaming Tree. Big Ben is teaching him how to hold his sword correctly.”
A stab of jealousy rose into Henry’s throat, but he swallowed it down. “He is, huh?”
Sister Gladys stood, pushing off the arms of her chair with a grunt. “He’ll never apologize. You should go see him. Abraham has closed off most of Solitude to you, but he wants you to see the tree.”
“Why?”
“Aela told him about how you saved her life. That can’t go unpaid. Now, get dressed. I’ll be in the hall just outside.”
The door clicked shut behind her, and Henry looked down to realize he was naked. Next to a nun.
And she was unimpressed. Fuck.
His backpack was leaning against the wall behind her chair. He dug through it and pulled out some fresh clothes. He was going to miss that T-shirt, but he had more, and for the hundredth time since learning he could, Henry thought about taking his Mike Serafino form. Dress him in some decent clothes. Maybe impress the nun.
He shook his head and finished lacing his boots. He slid his scarred nubbin into the coffee can and stood.
The train’s gotta slow down some time.
Then I can get off.
Henry stepped into the hall, and Sister Gladys smiled up at him. Several nuns passed with their heads down, carrying bundles wrapped in white cloth. Nuns walking in the opposite direction with empty hands. He looked up, and his jaw fell open. Clocks hung from the ceiling, running from one end of the hall to the other. Pendulums swinging. Second hands sweeping.
“The fuck is with the clocks?”
“To those who have waited thousands of years for salvation, time is very important.”
“Salvation from what?”
“From this place, Henry. We are all souls hidden from His sight. We can’t make the journey to be by the Lord’s side until we escape.”
Mandyel’s words came to him. “He plants His seeds in difficult climates, ones that might in fact kill them. That way, they will not trust in themselves, but rather in God.”
She looked up at him from the edge of her hood. “That is just so, Henry. But it has been a long, long struggle.”
The end of the hall opened onto a towering room filled with the twisted trunk of a massive tree. A thousand yellow flames in ornate fixtures made the room into a park beneath the noonday sun. Henry skidded to a halt, nuns scattering to get around him.
The air above was full of branches, twining through the leaves of other limbs, heavy pods drooping at the tips. A spiraling raceway ascended to the ceiling, nuns scurrying up and down in long files. They pulled the pods free, spreading the heavy wrapping of leaves aside to expose the interior crop.
Clocks. Books. Food. Guns. Each item went into a clean white cloth, and the nuns carried their bundles away.
Sister Gladys pushed a hand against his back to get him moving, and Henry stumbled into the room with his mouth open, turning in a circle as he walked. The top of the tree was lost in the shadows, and he couldn’t tell how tall it was.
“This is the Dreaming Tree,” Sister Gladys said. “When God rested on the seventh day, He dreamed about Solitude, and it sprang forth as you see it. A place outside of time, where the people who were born from His dreams lived in peace.”
“Then what happened?”
“His third gift to us.”
Mandyel’s words again. “His first gift was His form. His second was His will.”
“That is also just so, Henry.” Her face crinkled into a surprise smile.
“So, what was the third gift?”
“Entropy!” The old man’s deep voice
echoed out from behind the tree.
That must be Abraham.
He walked as if he didn’t need the cane, but he stumped it into the floor anyway. “Or as we understand it, time. Or maybe more to the point, the passage of time. God woke, for His work was not yet done, but his dream continued on.”
Big Ben’s hulking form edged past the tree with Adam’s bouncing frame right behind him.
“Henry!” Adam cried, and he was off like a shot, jumping across the roots without looking, skipping across the room as if flying.
Henry dropped to his knees to catch the little guy, rocking from the impact and laughing into his hair.
“I’m sorry, Henry.”
“Me, too, but you were kinda out of control. You were hurting people who didn’t necessarily deserve it.”
“But he was gonna kill you.”
“I know. He kinda did.”
Adam pulled back with his lower lip quivering. “But I said I was sorry.”
“I heard you, but one of these days, that might not be enough anymore.”
Adam’s brow drew down. “What do you mean?”
The vertigo of memory washed over Henry, and he nearly fell over. Amélie looking up at him with that exact expression. Pouting confusion. “But I said please,” she had whined.
“Yeah, because that’s what you’re supposed to do, and that was very nice, thank you. But sweetie, that doesn’t mean you get what you want just because you said please. Sometimes, the answer is still no.”
He pulled Adam back and looked into his eyes. “That’s no excuse for losing your shit like that. And it was no excuse for me to use him to get to Hell.”
“Is that what you were doing?”
“Kinda. But I wanted you to learn something, too.”
“What?”
“I don’t really remember, buddy.”
“You were trying to get to Amélie, weren’t you?”
“I think so, yeah.”
Adam stepped back and put his hands behind his back. “Do you forgive me, then?”
“Of course I do.”
He grinned and reached up to put his hand on Henry’s forehead. His little face smoothed into a look so serious, that Henry wanted to pull his head away from the child’s touch, unsure of what was coming.
“I forgive you, too,” Adam whispered.
Henry felt like he had been doused with freezing water. Adam dropped his hand, and Henry panted until he caught his breath.
I’m done crying.
“Thanks, buddy.”
Adam pulled his plastic sword from the metal scabbard and brandished it in Henry’s face. “Big Ben showed me how to stab. He said if I catch a motherfucker in the nuts with this, it’ll stop ’em cold.”
Henry barked laughter, and Big Ben rocked onto his toes, rolling his eyes up to look at the branches of the Dreaming Tree.
“We’ll save your daughter, Henry.”
“I know we will, buddy.”
He stood and looked over at Sister Gladys. Her eyes shone with unshed tears. “An angel’s forgiveness is no small thing.”
“Neither is a demon’s, Sister.”
Her face crinkled into that sweet smile that Henry was falling in love with. “I’m beginning to think so.”
Abraham stepped over a root and came level with Henry, dropping an arm across his shoulders. “Adam’s been telling us quite a story.”
Henry felt the power in the old man’s arm and smiled to himself.
This old man is not as old as he wants everyone to believe.
“Yeah, well, only the parts where I was awesome are true.”
Abraham’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. He raised his head to look up at the tree, lifting his cane to point. “What do you think of our tree? Our Dreaming Tree?”
“It’s a tree, all right.”
“It’s a magic tree, Henry.”
The old man’s false joviality grated against Henry’s nerves. “So, what’s it do?”
“It creates whatever we dream about.”
“So, it’s not just a clever name.”
That unamused smile again, and Henry wanted the old man’s arm off of his shoulders. “All of Nowhere is full of magic like this, but you are standing on the very spot where God rested his head.”
Henry looked down at his feet. “And I’m allowed to just walk all over it?”
Abraham dropped his arm and stepped back with a smirk. “It’s just rock, Henry. No, the sacred thing in this room is not the room. It’s the tree.”
Abraham walked to the trunk and placed his palm against it. “Those born here, they dream the things they need. Those who wander in from the Forgotten, they remember those things. The tree grows them, and we harvest those dreams. Even you yourself may have a cocoon growing something just for you.”
He turned and regarded Henry with a penetrating stare. “And I wonder what that thing might be. I’m very interested.”
Henry shrugged. “Couldn’t tell you. I did see some guns come out. Like little black peas in a holy pod.”
Abraham nodded. “They’re not reliable. Complicated technology tends not to work, except for the clocks, and we don’t really know what drives them. It’s not like we have someone running around winding them all up. We have some steam power and coal fires, but nothing more complicated than a sawmill.”
“Like the start of a renaissance fair, huh?”
Abraham smiled and nodded like Henry had told him something from a book that he’d already read. “Yeah, but here’s the thing. This is why time is so important to us. We’re running out of it, you see?”
“What do you mean?”
Abraham crooked a finger, urging Henry to follow. He turned and stumped around the tree.
Henry took the same path, passing in front of Big Ben close enough to feel the bull’s breath wash across his face. He heard Adam’s skipping steps, and the boy ran around with his plastic sword in front of him, heading an imaginary charge.
Henry felt the change in the air on the other side of the tree. A faint mustiness. A dimming of the light.
The farther from the trunk he walked, the darker the wood became. At the limits of the branches, where they touched the walls, the leaves were black and curled. The pods wrinkled and shrunken.
“The most fertile ground in all of Nowhere was under the Dreaming Tree. But our tree is dying, and the Forgotten has succumbed to the rooting nightmares. Most of the twisted city above us is given birth by the pain and fear of those incapable of moving on. They can’t even find this place, and we’ve had to close our doors, lest we are overrun by those souls so sick … We couldn’t possibly care for them all.”
Henry reached up and touched a blackened limb, and the slick skin gave way under his finger.
Abraham closed his eyes and lowered his head. “The tree does not bear the fruit it once did. We will die when it does. And its death fast approaches.”
Adam lowered his sword and looked up at the sick branches. “Can I help?”
Abraham looked at Henry from under his brows, his gaze intense through his hanging bangs. “Well, I don’t know. Would you like to try?”
Adam turned his face to Henry. “Can I?”
“Sure, buddy.”
He grinned and walked to the trunk with his hands held out in front of him. They touched the bark, and he closed his eyes. His breathing slowed, and Adam bowed his head.
Henry looked at Abraham, but his eyes were fixed on the boy’s back. Henry shrugged and looked back at Adam, and the child jumped back with a relieved sigh. He spun and whipped out his sword, slashing at the air with gusto.
After several swings, he slowed, noticing everybody’s stares. “What?”
Henry threw his hands up. “That’s it?”
“Yeah.” Adam grinned and pointed over his head. “See?”
They all looked up. The black was turning to green. Leaves spreading out and filling in. Pods swelling. The disease tracked back toward the trunk and in moments the
tree was healed.
Henry took a deep breath of the pure air, and pale flowers blossomed overhead, covering the tree in a bloom of brilliant white.
Sister Gladys fell to her knees, her hands clasped in front of her breast, wide eyes tilted up in amazement.
Adam danced up and put his hand on Henry’s thigh. “I dreamed about ice cream last night. I can’t wait!”
Chapter Six
Abraham rushed through the halls of Solitude, his cane striking the ground and echoing off the ceiling and walls. The city’s residents scattered in front of him, then recoiled in horror when they saw Henry following with Adam perched on his shoulders, holding onto his horns like reins.
Big Ben pulled even with the old man. “He shouldn’t be in here.”
Abraham waved him away. “He’s no danger, Ben.”
“But you said he would stay with the tree.”
“I know what I said.” Abraham careened around a corner, narrowly missing a woman pushing a cart full of pies. She jumped back with her hand to her throat. Henry came around right behind him, and the woman sagged against the wall with a squeal.
Henry waved as he passed. “Howdy.”
Big Ben turned to walk backward so he could face the old man. It was clear Abraham wasn’t going to slow down. “We can’t have him just running around like this. There are women and children in these halls.”
“Dammit, Ben. I don’t care. This is more important than your concerns. Times they are a-changing!”
Sister Gladys ran by like a pigeon running for breadcrumbs, her robes held up with one wrinkled hand. She jabbed up a finger. “Close your everloving mouth and stop being a fool, Benjamin. Can’t you see what’s happening?”
Big Ben turned and slowed his pace. “I see a couple of ignorant old geezers too caught up in what a book says instead of paying attention to what’s right in front of their noses.”
“That’s enough, Ben!” Abraham had the tone of a man continuing a tired argument that he no longer cared to win, like a parent saying, “because I said so,” when all other reason failed to sway a child.
Henry smiled.
Suck it, Benjamin.
Abraham slid to a stop in front of an iron door. He dug through his pockets, and came up with a giant ring of keys. He closed his eyes, ticking off keys as he spoke. “The Sanctum. Wine cellar. Armory. Jessica’s room. Ah, yes!”