The Bones of Makaidos

by Bryan Davis

  “But one of our goals is to separate Earth and Hades,” Marilyn said. “The genius will be helping us condemn himself.”

  “Questions of ethics are beyond the scope of my programming, but my commonsense engine suggests that you tell the genius everything so that your conscience will be clear. He or she will likely dismiss your concerns because of eagerness to work on the project.”

  “So how do we find one?”

  “I am already searching news stories for appearances of the dead. I will filter them using a list of physicists who would have enough brainpower to help us.”

  Marilyn looked at Carly and winked. “They would have to be physicists who didn’t go to Heaven. Good luck with that.”

  “Their eternal destination is not in my database. I will check all on the list.”

  “Okay, Mr. Data Sleuth. You and Carly come up with the best option. I’ll help her contact our condemned physicist in the morning.”

  Shiloh sat on the familiar bench in front of the abandoned dry goods store. Sniffing back tears, she rubbed her index finger along the marks she had etched into the backrest, one for each of the forty years she had spent in the sixth circle of Hades. Her release had been the most wonderful day imaginable, and when she leaped into her father’s arms and felt his warm embrace, she knew, she just knew without a doubt, that all the suffering, all the fear, all the anguish had finally ended.

  She stared at the stub on her hand, bandaged and still damp with blood. She was wrong. The suffering had begun all over again, worse than ever, and she was back in the clutches of her never-ending nightmare. And who could rescue her this time?

  When Morgan kidnapped her, at least her father knew where she had gone, but now no one knew. With Daddy, Billy, Walter, Acacia, and so many others in Second Eden, who on Earth would guess that she had been taken to this God-forsaken place? Sapphira and Bonnie? Maybe. But they were being chased, too. How could they come out of hiding to rescue her? And even if they did try, could they get into this part of Hades at all? Even with Hades and Earth combining, would they figure out the path?

  A loud rumble sounded from her abdomen. She pressed the heel of her hand against her stomach. Four days without food. The first three weren’t so bad. Pressure made the pain go away. But not this time. Now she would have to face the part of the nightmare she had avoided since coming here. The watering trough near the stables had kept her from getting thirsty, but the only source of food lay in the direction she hadn’t yet dared go.

  She got up and shuffled to the street. With her hands folded behind her, she strolled toward the central circle, kicking any pebble that happened to be in her path. There were no wandering spirits, no Frankie, no Bat Masterson, no humanlike entities to alter the stark deadness that settled around her. With her hand throbbing and the threats of more disfigurement looming, what could be worse? Could anyone survive the misery of being slowly butchered in a strange world?

  Yet this wasn’t really a strange world. She knew exactly what to expect—the same routine she suffered through for forty years.

  When she reached the town’s circle, she found the pitcher pump, exactly where it had always been, anchored in the raised garden area with the spout extending over the dirt at the side of the street. Shading the pump from the morning sun, a twenty-foot-tall statue stood in its usual spot, Captain Autarkeia riding a rearing horse.

  Shiloh pumped the handle. Water poured out and made a swirling puddle in the mud. Yes, it was all the same. Soon, the plant would grow, she would eat its fruit and get violently sick, and once she felt better, she would wander around until nightfall until she made a bed among the broken crates in an alley.

  She sat on the raised curb and waited. Nights were the worst. Sleeping inside the abandoned buildings always produced the most horrible nightmares, and strange noises seemed to stalk the streets. Maybe it was always the wind rattling broken window shutters and rusty chains, but the sounds were enough to keep her in hiding behind the alley crates. Besides, they provided shelter from the wind’s chill.

  Soon, the plant sprouted, and its green stalk grew at its usual fast rate. When the five-leafed bulb appeared, she plucked it, peeled away the stubborn leathery leaves, and tossed them to the side. With a sigh, she stared at the fibrous white fruit. Just looking at it brought stabs of pain to her stomach. But it had been four days since her last meal, and it hadn’t killed her the previous ten thousand times she had eaten it, so it didn’t make sense to fret about it now.

  Just as she opened her mouth, someone called from the other side of the circle. “Greetings!”

  Shiloh turned toward the voice. A woman dressed in red from head to toe walked out from behind the statue.

  “Who are you?” Shiloh asked, remembering to continue faking an American accent.

  Smiling, the woman lowered her hood and sat next to her on the curb. “I was going to ask you the same question.”

  Shiloh half closed one eye. “I asked you first.”

  She laughed and touched herself on the chest. “I am Semiramis. I have come to find a way to rescue you from this place.”

  Shiloh leaped to her feet. “You have? Who sent you?”

  “Why, your friends in Second Eden, of course. Billy hasn’t so soon forgotten you.”

  “Billy?” Shiloh’s face flushed hot. Obviously Semiramis thought she was Bonnie. Had she already blown her cover? And if Semiramis was a friend, would it be okay to let her know the truth? Probably not yet. Better to feel her out and get more information.

  Shiloh sat down again and calmed her voice. “Yes, of course. I know Billy would send for me if he were able, but how did he find out I was kidnapped?”

  “Your captors sent us your finger, a hideously cruel act designed to instill fear in our hearts. Not only did the finger have your rubellite ring still on it, the box included a lock of your hair, and Billy recognized your blond highlights. Also, two former dragons, Rebekah and Dallas, have come to Second Eden, and they told us that Shiloh had been taken and Bonnie went missing later. We wondered if the finger might have been Shiloh’s, but since the kidnappers did not deliver it until after Bonnie’s disappearance, we decided that they had waited until they had her, the real former dragon girl, in their clutches.”

  Semiramis pulled a wad of gauze from her pocket along with a small bottle. “Here is material for a clean bandage and an infection-fighting potion. When I heard about your finger, I assumed you would need these. There is an adhesive strip in there as well.”

  “Thank you.” Shiloh peeled off her old bandage, red and sticky from the still oozing blood.

  “Here,” Semiramis said. “I will dispose of that for you.”

  Shiloh gave her the old bandage and took the gauze and bottle. As she applied the potion, she said, “Where did they take Shiloh?”

  “I do not know. I suspect that, once they discovered that she was not who they thought she was, they simply did away with her. There would be no need to hold her captive.”

  Shiloh drooped her head. “I see.”

  “It is tragic, I know, but we must put that aside and concentrate on how to get you out of here. As you likely have discovered, the path to freedom is not easy to find.”

  “I know.” Shiloh finished constructing the new bandage and looked up at Semiramis. “On the way here, they blindfolded me, so I couldn’t tell how I got here. I felt a lot of wind, like I was flying on something with wings, but I don’t know for sure. And now whichever way I go, I run into a transparent shield. I can see a land covered with snow beyond it, but I can’t get through. What’s even stranger is that it doesn’t snow here like it does out there. It’s like I’m in a big bubble of some kind.”

  “Yes, and that is just the first obstacle. Even if you were able to get beyond the shield, you would find a long journey through snow and ice that you are ill prepared to take.”

  “Then how did you get here?” Shiloh asked.

  “If I told you, you would likely not believe me. You see, I wa
s once in league with Arramos, the mastermind of this sinister plot to destroy Second Eden and overthrow Heaven itself, so I have abilities you would not understand. I am able to travel here with relative ease.”

  “But where is here? I mean, where physically? If you came from Second Eden, and Hades and Earth merged, how did you get here?”

  “An excellent question. When Earth and Hades joined, the seven circles had to reside somewhere physically, so most took up space in their earthly counterparts, and some moved elsewhere. The physical attributes of one land gave way to another, so that both reside together, though one set of attributes necessarily became invisible to the eyes of the inhabitants.

  “For example, Morgan’s former home in the third circle is now at the Glastonbury Tor, and the grass fields of the second circle are in the plains of the United States while the bordering forest land where the Caitiff once lived is now in the eastern U.S.”

  Semiramis spread out her hands. “This village was unique. It already had a close tie with Dragons’ Rest, which you know much about. When Dragons’ Rest was destroyed, God granted Arramos’s request to move this village to the northern lands of Second Eden, and since I dwell in Second Eden, I was able to come to you.”

  “How?” Shiloh asked. “Do you just walk through the shield? Is it passable going one way and not the other?”

  “It is passable only to those who are dead.” She lowered her gaze. “This is the truth that I dared not tell you earlier, but now I think you need to know. You see, I, in fact, am dead.”

  Shiloh drew her head back. “You’re dead?”

  “Ah, yes,” Semiramis said, looking at Shiloh again. “It is true. I died to Earth’s realm millennia ago. Being dead is a great disadvantage most of the time, but it allows me to come and go from this village as I please. And the presence of the sixth circle created a gateway for me to come from the Bridgelands where I once worked for Arramos as the guardian for Zeno’s Chasm.

  “When Arramos learned that I had lost faith in him, he decided to put me away for a while, until I, as he put it, came to my senses. I was far too valuable to destroy. So he snatched me up in his claws, flew down here, and deposited me in this very spot. That is why you felt the sensation of flying. You likely rode on his back to get here.” She looked up into the clear blue sky. “It is impossible to get back up without help from another flying creature, perhaps a helpful dragon.”

  “So how did you know to find me here?”

  “A guess, really. I had to come to this region, anyway, so it made sense to look here. You see, I had to leave the village where Billy is, because, although I saved the life of one of their children, they did not trust me. I felt, however, that Billy trusted me, at least a little, so now that I have found you, I will send for him. It took me more than a day to get here, and with the mounting snow, it will likely take more than that to get word to him, then another day for him to come. Perhaps he can fly on a dragon and get here more quickly. We will have to see.”

  Shiloh stood again and, sliding her hands into her jeans pockets, walked a few paces away. “That would be great, but …” Heaving a sigh, she looked at the doorway to the Feed Store, the place where Bonnie had given her life to save her own. She had been so sacrificial, so willing to do what was right no matter the cost to herself.

  Raising her hand, she looked at her bloody bandage. Sure, being Bonnie was costing her body parts, but if word got out that she was Shiloh, the kidnappers would likely kill her. But did that matter? Shouldn’t she be willing to risk death, just like Bonnie did? Yet, if she revealed who she really was to this woman, could she be trusted? The whole point of her masquerade was to protect Bonnie, and any hint that Bonnie was still free would put her in danger. Still, it wouldn’t be right to ask Billy to put his life on the line to rescue her without letting him know who she was. Yes, he would do it no matter what, but giving him the opportunity to make the decision based on truth would be the honorable thing to do.

  Semiramis rose from the curb and touched Shiloh’s arm. “What is it, Bonnie? Speak your dilemma, and I will try to solve it.”

  She spun back to Semiramis. “Don’t tell Billy I’m here.”

  “What? Why not? Don’t you want to escape?”

  “Of course. It’s just that …” Shiloh looked away

  “You are not willing to draw Billy here on pretense.”

  “That’s right. I wouldn’t want to—” Shiloh swung back toward Semiramis. “What did you say?”

  Semiramis laughed gently. “Do not fret or fear, Shiloh. It was not difficult for me to discern who you are.”

  Shiloh reverted to her British accent. “How did you figure it out?”

  “When I mentioned that Billy might be coming, you were seized by a dilemma. If you were really Bonnie, there would be no hesitation.”

  Shiloh crossed her arms and scowled. “I’m such an idiot.”

  “It is an unfortunate truth that those who hold to high morals have a very hard time deceiving others. Withholding truth creates dilemmas that do not occur to the unscrupulous, and even if they did, they would not be bothered by violating codes of honor.”

  Shiloh looked at Semiramis again and spoke in a pleading tone. “So what are you going to do?”

  “Send for Billy, of course. Since he is honorable, he will not view you as any less valuable than Bonnie.”

  Shiloh tightened her chin and nodded. “Okay. Thank you.”

  “Come with me,” Semiramis said, taking her hand. “I want to show you something.”

  Flinching at Semiramis’s touch, Shiloh went along, pondering the strange woman. Maybe this is what dead people felt like, cold and tingly. It stood to reason that she would be different, even in speech and mannerisms, but why was she so willing to help? What was in it for her?

  Semiramis led her past the final building in town and into a field of bare ground, decorated only by prickly pears and acorn-sized stones. Of course, Shiloh had walked through this field many times in search of a way out, so she knew the invisible shield lay only twenty or so paces away. Yet, even if she didn’t know, the boundary was obvious enough, an abrupt line that separated the dry, desertlike landscape from a sea of snow.

  From her vantage point at the top of a high hill, she could see tens of thousands of acres of valley lands. Only the tops of evergreen trees and a few boulders protruded, creating splotches of green and gray that dotted the white expanse.

  “As you can see,” Semiramis said as she gestured toward the scene with her hand, “the snow has already mounted beyond what can be easily traversed, and it is still falling. I will do what I can to fetch Billy, but if the snow persists, I might have to wait a few days. Keep watching through this wall, and when the thaw comes, know that your deliverance is at hand.”

  Shiloh nodded. “I will watch. I was here for forty years. I can handle a few extra days.”

  Semiramis kissed her on the cheek, a frigid kiss that made Shiloh shiver. “Whatever you do,” Semiramis said, “do not trust Arramos. He is treacherous.”

  “Don’t worry. I won’t.”

  Semiramis raised a finger. “And one more thing. I will need a token of some kind that will prove that I found you. Elam and Ashley do not trust me. In order to mount a rescue, Billy might need their support, and—”

  Semiramis lifted the shirt and read the lettering. “What does, ‘He’s not a tame lion’ mean?”

  “It’s hard to explain. Just give the shirt to Billy. He’ll know it belongs to me and what it means. And if anything happens to me or Bonnie, and he discovers that you’re part of the reason, you’ll find out what it means, too.” She tried to bend her brow just enough to show a fighting spirit. “You’ll find out the hard way.”

  A nervous smile quivered on Semiramis’s face as she folded the shirt. “Well, we won’t have to worry about that, will we?”

  Shiloh smoothed out her sweatshirt and drilled her stare at Semiramis. “I hope not.”

  “Well, then, I will be going now
.” Semiramis stepped through the shield and out into the waist-high snow. A man walked out from behind a boulder and tromped toward her on snowshoes. With severe burns marring his face and a limp in his gait, he seemed to be in pain, but when he reached Semiramis and gave her a pair of snowshoes, a strange smile appeared. They spoke for a moment, both laughing afterward, but Shiloh couldn’t hear their words or their laughter.

  She pressed a palm against the shield. Apparently soundproof, it felt like glass, but her hand left no mark. Backing away, she sighed. Even if Billy showed up, how could he rescue her? Thinking about a knight in shining armor charging in on a noble white steed sounded like the most wonderful sight in the world, but if he could only stand outside and knock, what good would it do? She had already tried to break the barrier with a hundred different objects—stones as big as her head, an old sledgehammer, and even a rusty drill. Nothing worked.

  Closing her eyes, she turned away and took a deep breath. She could do this. She could endure another few days, even a week or two. At least someone knew where she was and how to get to her. After forty years of dreadful misery without hope of rescue, these days would pass quickly, wouldn’t they?

  She lifted the plant’s fruit to her mouth, bit off a large hunk, and marched toward the town’s circle. As she chewed, the familiar sweet taste coated her tongue, and the gentle scent of honey filtered into her nostrils. The flavor was even better than she remembered, probably because she was so hungry and hadn’t tasted it in such a long time.

  When she reached the circle, she squinted at the statue. The descending sun was just touching Captain Autarkeia’s head, and as it continued its downward journey, his shadow fell over her eyes.

  Pain stabbed her insides, like ten spears being driven into her belly. Clutching her stomach, she dropped to her knees and then to her side, now lying fully within the lengthening shadow. As the agony increased, she looked up at the man’s face. He seemed so kind, so caring, as if he would reach down from his mount, scoop her up, and ride off to safety, far away from this hellhole. Yet, he just sat there and looked. He wasn’t Timothy Autarkeia or the great Makaidos. He was nothing more than a hunk of carved stone.