by Sawyer Black
“Aela, my dear granddaughter. Of course you deserve it. That’s why I have tried to keep you in these walls. To protect you until the roll is called.”
Big Ben chopped his hand at her. “You should stay here with Abraham.”
She shrugged out from under her grandfather’s hand and stepped back. “No. I’m sick of everyone else making my decisions for me. I’m making my own choices from now on.”
Henry laughed. “That’s what I said.”
She sent a poisonous glare over her shoulder, then she spun around. She stopped to snatch her bag from the floor and stomped away.
Abraham looked at Henry through his tumble of hair, that knowing smile on his lips.
Adam broke the awkward moment by running over and pawing through the bag at Henry’s feet. He found the bible then ran to Abraham. He held it up to the old man. “I want you to hold onto this while I’m gone, okay? You can read it, but don’t spoil it. I’m only on Galatians.”
Abraham took the book with a shaking hand. Adam wrapped his leg in a hug and pressed his cheek into the old man’s thigh. “Thanks for everything, Mister Abraham.”
Abraham pulled Adam away, and he squatted down so their eyes were level. “No, son. Thank you.”
Adam stepped back. “You are a person like a tree planted by streams of water, yielding fruit in season. Your leaves do not wither, and whatever you do prospers.”
Abraham staggered to his feet, pressing the bible to his chest. He nodded, lifting his hand in an absent wave. His dazed eyes tracked across the room until they spotted Sister Gladys. He held his hand out, and the old woman ducked under his arm. They supported each other as they left the room.
Henry looked at Adam’s shining smile. “What did you do?”
“I blessed him.”
This fucking kid.
Henry looked up, and Big Ben stood with his arms crossed over his barrel chest, his eyes narrowed in thought.
Henry didn’t like that look at all.
Chapter Eight
They walked out of Solitude and through most of the Forgotten without incident, but the closer to their destination they came, the darker the emotions rolling off of the rocks. The Dream Lights kept the Lost at bay and gathering hordes at a distance. It was only a matter of time before the lights would fail them, though.
Henry could tell Big Ben felt it, too. The set of the giant’s granite shoulders, lifting with the tension. His footsteps becoming a driving rhythm in the dirt. Henry didn’t like the fucker, but he was still glad to have him around.
They had walked all day. Buildings became smaller. Older. With more distance between them until eventually they were walking through tall grass and tumbles of stones bigger than Henry and Big Ben combined.
Miles from the crumbling city lay a graveyard for misfits. No order or reason to the headstone placement. Hills and valleys with markers jutting into the air like crooked teeth. A dark rise of earth at the distant border, and over the scraping wind was the whisper of trees, brushing their leaves as they swayed.
Even Adam was subdued. Sitting on Henry’s shoulders and whispering to himself, words too low for Henry to hear in a sing-song. Like poetry. Henry strained to make out the words, and then, in his silence, he heard.
“I will guard the feet of the ones who are faithful, and I will shroud the wicked in darkness, for the might of man will not prevail against me. My enemies will be broken into pieces. Against them, I will send my thunder. I will not fear, though thousands come from every side, and from my hand will come deliverance. My hand will be with them, keeping them from pain and free from harm. I will shield them with my glory, and hold their head high. I will guard the feet of the ones who are faithful …”
Not a prayer, but a promise.
Henry had only been to two churches in his life. St. Bartholomew's in Cincinnati, Ohio, and the Burg Spires Church of Hope. One for his grandmother. The other for Samantha. He wasn’t big on prayers, and his recent first-hand experience with God’s Word wasn’t changing his mind. But the little angel’s words sent a shiver down his spine.
Adam wasn’t talking to God.
He was talking to himself.
Big Ben lifted a fist to bring them to a stop. He squatted down and fished the Dream Light out from under his shirt. Its wan light cast a tiny spot on the ground. Henry felt rising emotion in the dark. Sharp pain from the Lost as they drew nearer.
Big Ben inspected the stone under his feet, and he turned to look up like he was sniffing the air. He headed off the path and into the cemetery. Winding his way through rocks and broken stone, he paused every few yards to consult the ground with the small blue light which was growing dimmer over time.
After several of those stops, a row of leaning mausoleums bloomed from the shadows. Big Ben tracked to the third one, cracked and grown-over with sickly brown moss. He motioned Aela to his side, and she slid a ring of keys from her bag. She worked the lock open, and Big Ben bent to the door, placing his hands against it, his white teeth shining out of his dark face with effort.
The door grated open enough for his big body to barely fit. He stepped aside and waved them through. Henry lifted Adam from his shoulders and filed in behind the rest of them, turning to add his shoulder to Big Ben’s. The door inched closed, seating against the warped frame with a deep clash of stone.
A candle flared to life. Big Ben turned to clap Henry on the back. “Thanks.”
That must have hurt.
Henry nodded and shrugged his backpack off, dropping it by the door.
Aela handed Henry a candle, lighting another from its dancing flame, and she turned to sit on a stone bench. “This is the last Way Home before the forest.”
Henry looked at the full shelves. “Who stocks all this shit, anyway?”
Big Ben leaned Demon Piercer into the corner. “The Sisters of Solitude.”
“What, they just walk around with an armload of food and clothes and shit?”
Aela nodded. “Their vows make them invisible to the Lost.”
“Okay, but what about the Ravagers?”
Kasey slapped Solomon on the shoulder on his way by. “That’s what we’re for.”
“Fine, then why are the Way Homes here?”
Big Ben rolled his eyes as Aela doffed her boots with a sigh. She crossed her foot over her thigh and leaned over to massage the sole. “My grandfather believes the Lost can be led back into Solitude. He thinks they can all be saved, and I think now that he’s seen Adam heal one, he won’t stop until they’re all within his walls.”
“But you don’t believe it?”
She glanced at Adam, who was looking up at Big Ben in fascination. “I’m not sure. I’ve seen the terrible things they’re capable of. Just because we found one that we could bring back doesn’t mean they all can be saved. Or that they deserve to be. That’s what all this is for. It’s so the Lost can become the Found, and they can use the contents of the safe houses to find—”
“The way home,” Henry finished.
Big Ben clapped his hands with a grin. “Sister Gladys told me there was a cellar beneath us. And that it may or may not be stocked with beer.”
“Very good.” Kasey jumped up and headed through the low doorway behind Big Ben’s shoulder. Solomon followed, and Adam ran over to put his hand on Henry’s leg. “Can I go?”
“If it’s okay with Big Ben, sure. Just don’t drink too much.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m not allowed to drink. I’m just a kid.”
Big Ben swept his arm out. “Come on, little man.”
Adam ran through the door, and Big Ben looked Aela with raised eyebrows. “You coming?”
“No, I think I’m going to stay here with Henry.”
“With Henry?” His eyes narrowed. He pursed his lips and nodded, the muscles in the back of his neck flexing in angry spasms. Then he turned without another word and disappeared into the back of the mausoleum.
His footsteps pounded down the stone stairs, and Henry cl
eared his throat. “Remind me to sleep with my eyes open around that guy.”
“No, he’s … fine.”
“What, are you two a thing?”
“He thinks so, but I just … I’m not ready for another one.”
“Why not?”
She put her foot flat on the floor and leaned forward, elbows to knees. “Do you believe in redemption?”
“I kind of have to, don’t I?” he said, waving his stump over his ugly mug.
“But what if you did something bad? Something so bad …”
He wanted to touch her. Put his hand on her shoulder and tell her it was okay. But he was ugly. A monster.
“What did you do?” Henry asked.
She leaned back with a bitter smile. “Never mind. I’d rather you saw me as I am now. Not what I was.”
Wouldn’t we all.
“So, what’s in the trees?”
The bitterness left her smile, and she sighed in relief. “We don’t know. Nobody’s ever come back. Until Adam looked into that Ravager’s mind, we just thought, I don’t know. Dragons? It could have been anything.”
She looked up to stare at the ceiling. “Nowhere is big. Endless. But no matter which direction you go, you come back to the Tree that holds up a sky that changes from sunlight to shadow after you see it for the first time.”
Henry nodded. “Like an open house working for buyers.”
“And past the Tree is the mist that hides the Forgotten. Like the drain of some cosmic sewage system. We need community. Yes, many of the people in the Forgotten, and in Solitude, were criminals. Many of them still are. And being born in Nowhere doesn’t make you free from sin. Far from it.”
The bitterness twisted her face again. Henry had to stop his hand from rubbing her arm. An unconscious gesture that usually made Samantha feel better.
“A lot of the Lost have no place in the Forgotten. Running from their pasts. Hiding from the angels that gather souls for ascension. The demons that troll for souls that belong in Hell. All those people should count for something. They ought to be able to live out their lives here without judgement.”
She laughed, glancing at Henry in embarrassment. “Anyway, the Fortress that Adam saw? Nobody’s heard of it. And that frightens me. If Nowhere is endless on the outside, how deep does it go in here?”
“Well, I guess we’ll find out tomorrow.”
She stood. “I guess you’re right. I’m going down to see if there’s any beer left. You coming, too?”
He waved her off. “No, I think I’ll just stay up here. Out of the way.”
Her face fell. She knew what he was saying.
I don’t want to fuck up your good time with my presence.
“This may be your last chance,” she said.
“I’ve got more to regret than missing out on one last party.”
He watched her leave, and he lowered himself to the floor in front of the door. He curled up on his side, his hand under his head as a pillow.
A fortress inside an unknown city in the trees. A forest where nobody has ever gone. Adam had seen where the Ravagers took his father, and Henry couldn’t help but wonder at the convenience of finding the one guy who could tell them where Baelzor was. Just waiting for the one person who could find it.
He imagined Mandyel lifting his drink in a toast. A thousand moves ahead.
Henry heard laughter drift up the steps, and he closed his eyes with a smile, hoping Mandyel was half as brilliant as everyone seemed to think.
Maybe then they could survive this and he could get his daughter out of Hell.
Chapter Nine
“Henry, I miss the sun.”
“Me too, buddy. We still going the right way?”
“It’s always straight ahead. Where it’s darkest.”
The dirty light of Nowhere, like a perpetual black cloud, seemed bright compared to the shadows under the trees. Wet leaves and mud squelched underfoot. A marshy reek of rot was ripe in air that hung like a fog.
The branches above them swept back and forth in a restless rhythm that made Henry think of a great beast blowing its breath on his body.
The wide path through the black forest twisted and turned like a riverbed. Like walking into a tunnel, the way ahead disappeared into darkness. Henry felt thoughts breaking between the trees around them. Emotions turning from hesitant fear into hunger and purpose.
He grabbed the Dream Light hanging from his neck, but it was cool.
Rasping laughter from the shadows to his right.
By the way Big Ben’s head whipped around, Henry knew that he’d heard it, too.
Henry shook his head. “Abraham was right. We should have brought an army.”
“Quiet,” Big Ben said.
Kasey crept up to Henry’s left. “I don’t think it matters anymore. They’re all around us.”
“How many do you think there are?” Solomon called from the front of their line.
More laughter, and Henry saw flitting movement.
Kasey spun toward the sound. “They’re everywhere.”
Henry dialed his thoughts away from the fear, tuning into the hunger surrounding them. “Adam, I think you better draw your sword.”
“No,” Big Ben said in a harsh whisper. “It’ll draw attention to us.”
Aela lifted the pale glow of her Dream Light overhead. “Henry’s right. It’s like they’ve been following us. Waiting for something.”
Big Ben shook his head. “They’re just waiting for the Dream Lights to die. The end of the trees is right around the next bend in the path, and we’ll be in the open again.”
Henry shook the incredulity from his head. “How the fuck do you know? You got a map or something? Why’d you bring us out here all by ourselves, anyway? I thought you didn’t know what to expect, and Aela told me nobody ever comes in here. Adam, draw your sword. It’s time to get mad, buddy.”
The toy sword became a white beacon, and Adam rose into the air on buzzing wings. Henry shrugged out of the backpack and peered into the trees.
Glittering eyes hid at the edge of the light on both sides.
Henry caught Big Ben’s glare over Aela’s head, but before he could say anything, the air split with the screeching of attacking Lost.
Pouring out of the gaps between the trees, they headed straight for Adam, staring into the flames of the sword he held over his head. Henry roared and jumped forward, his boots sliding in the muck.
Adam swung the sword, and one of the Lost fell, its head spinning into the dark.
Teeth sunk into Henry’s forearm.
“Fuck!”
He smashed the coffee can down onto the top of a gray head, and the teeth crumbled as they tore free of his flesh.
He lost sight of Adam behind a swarming mass of twisted bodies, clawing and biting. Henry dropped into the shadows and hurled himself through the dark, bursting into the glow of light from Adam’s sword.
He swung his claws, and the blood streaming from his arm mingled with the splashes painting the snarling faces around him.
Adam screamed in pain, and Henry’s vision turned red.
Rage exploded into his brain, and all the sick passion of the Lost fell away. Time slowed, and Henry saw the attacks before they happened. Their intent painted across the canvas of his anger, he drove his claws into everything in reach.
Adam’s sword dimmed as he collapsed to the ground.
The souls of the Lost glowed red inside their bodies like road maps of energy, pulsing with their heartbeats. Henry stood with his legs spread, one foot planted on each side of the little fallen angel, and the bodies piled in a circle that grew with each swing of his claws.
Each bite.
Each punch of his ruined left hand, the coffee can splintering and tearing from the force of his blows.
Their life force swirled into his nostrils.
Instead of letting it drain into the ground, he inhaled.
And Henry burned.
Another group of the Lost spil
led out from the trees. Sticks as weapons. Dirty stones and rusty knives. Henry roared into their midst, and they broke around him, slashing and beating. A spearhead drove through the neck of a thin female in a rotting wedding gown.
Kasey spun into the next target, and Henry tore the arm off a Union soldier brandishing a fractured flintlock rifle.
Aela at the edge of his vision, stabbing her knives, her lips drawn back in a grim snarl.
To his right, a flash of a tattered butcher’s apron covering the wasted form of a male swinging a pitted cleaver.
Henry struggled to stay put, over Adam’s shuddering body beneath him.
Henry caught the blade in his thigh and felt it grate against bone. The butcher toppled with his guts splashing through the slices in his abdomen, and Henry inhaled another soul.
A sharp stick tore through the skin under his arm, breaking off as the Lost fell against him, biting into the meat over his ribs.
Henry tore the point free and drove it into the Lost’s eye. It burst, squirting fluid and blood over Henry’s fist. Its scream joined the others.
A rock smashed into his knee, and his leg folded in with a ripping that roared over everything else. Henry snarled as he spread his arms to catch the wiry male driving into his chest.
He spun to land on the twisting body and thrust his face into the Lost’s neck. He tore the throat out with a bite that scraped against the Lost’s spine, and blood flooded his mouth a split second ahead of the trapped soul’s energy.
He pressed into the bloody mud and stood with his weight on his good leg.
He spit the flesh from his mouth and raised his claws for the next one. But there were no more.
He gasped, hot breath steaming from his mouth. The red left his vision. The last of the life energy he had absorbed worked on the torn ligaments of his knee. The bleeding wound in his side. He growled as the pain of healing seared through him, and he looked down, then spun with his eyes wide in panic.
Where’s Adam?
The question left him cold. His demon vision darkened, and he realized everyone was covered in blood and dirt. Lost in the dark.