by Susan Ee
The demons use multiheaded sticks like the one I saw back then to whip and bite the angel slaves pulling the chariots. These sticks are topped by circles of shriveled heads all with the same shade of red hair and green eyes. The hair floats as if underwater just like the ones I’d seen before. And like the others I’d seen, these are also screaming soundlessly.
When their masters whip the stick, they come shrieking toward the Fallen, biting and ripping strips of skin and feathers off them when they land.
One of the demons looks at me. I can’t help but think that it’s the same one who saw me the last time I visited the Pit. His wings are on fire, and his glistening body glows red from the reflection. He snaps his multiheaded whip at me as all the chariots charge closer.
The matching heads scream as they come at me with an intensity that’s beyond insane. All balls of teeth and eyes and writhing hair.
All I know is that I do not want one of those latching onto me. I pump my legs as fast as I can. I do a sharp turn around a corner and run behind a broken building.
There’s a hatchway in a crumbling wall. I throw it open.
I’m about to race down the stone steps into the darkness below when one of the Watchers crash-lands on the ground in front of me.
It’s Beliel. He has a whip head chewing its way into his back.
Two more of the screaming heads land on him. One latches on and rips a strip of flesh off his arm. The other catches itself on Beliel’s hair and begins whipping around, pulling part of Beliel’s scalp with it.
Beliel grabs the one off his scalp and crushes it.
I jump in and viciously kick the head off his back. Beliel is my ticket out of here, and I can’t let him get killed. My head hurts just trying to understand what it would mean if he dies here.
The last head is chewing its way up the strip of torn skin on his arm. I yank the head and rip the skin all the way off, ignoring Beliel’s bellow of pain. I stomp on it until it stops moving.
Beliel staggers up onto his feet. I shove him down the dark stairs and slam the hatch behind me.
I try not to pant too loudly as I latch the door shut.
We seem to be in a basement below a crumbled building. The only light is from the cracks of the hatch door, and it’s too dark to see whether there’s another exit.
The ground vibrates. Large, heavy chunks of debris thunk down against the hatch.
I stiffen and get ready, gripping my sword with both hands. A sense of doom vibrates off Beliel as he stands with his ear cocked toward the hatch, as though he’s been here a thousand times before and lost the battle each time. Looking at how torn and trashed he and the other Watchers are, that doesn’t seem far-fetched.
The hatch rattles and jiggles as the heads attack it with their teeth. The gnawing and bumping against the hatch goes on forever before it finally stops.
Then a great rattling and the sound of whipping moves past outside. The demons must not have seen where we disappeared to, even if their whip heads did.
The chariot rattle fades into the distance.
I cautiously let my breath out and look around. We’re in an underground hovel of some kind. Trashed bedding lies in the shadows, a raised seat made of mud, charred remains of a long-ago fireplace.
‘Do you know what they would have done to you?’ asks Beliel in a raspy whisper beside me.
I jump. I hadn’t realized he was so close.
‘Those heads,’ he says. ‘Do you know what they scream for?’
I shake my head, then remember he can’t see me.
‘A new body. They’re desperate for it.’ He leans against the wall of the hovel with his empty sockets turned to me. ‘Welcome to the Pit. Like it or not, you’ve just joined the initiations for the newly Fallen.’
‘How long do the initiations go on?’
‘Until you become Consumed or something equally horrible. Or it’s possible the Pit lords might feel like promoting you out of maggot status. I’ve heard it only happens sometime after your wings fully turn. Then the real fun begins.’
‘It gets worse after you’re promoted?’
‘That’s what I heard.’
Something thuds on the hatch outside. I stay silent until whatever it was that hit the hatch goes away.
‘What about those screaming whip heads? Are they being initiated too?’
‘They’re the Consumed. They’re the ones who didn’t make it through initiation. There’s a legendary feast that goes on with the Pit lords. The Consumed are the ones who were sacrificed for the feast.’ He shakes his head. ‘We can grow back a lot of things, but not a whole body or even major parts.’
He rubs his empty eye sockets. ‘But when you’re in the Pit, there are infinite opportunities for more misery. The Consumed cry out by the thousands to be included in a head whip for the chance to claim a new body.’
I’ve never seen Beliel so chatty. This earlier version of him is going to take some getting used to.
‘If they get their teeth into you, they’ll burrow before you can blink. They’ll work their way up to your head where they gnaw until your head falls off. Then they plant themselves in your neck. Sometimes, they fight, and two or three of them plant themselves before it’s all done. That’s a sight that makes you wish your eyes had been gouged out.’
I look at him to see if he just told a joke, but there’s no change in his expression.
‘A Fallen body is a prize, but they’ll take anything with limbs. They’ll even take rat bodies with the hope that they can move up the food chain so long as they can find the next victim. So watch your feet.’
He slides down the wall, sitting against it. ‘Rumor has it that some of the most powerful Pit lords were once Consumed. Of course, by the time they reach Pit-lord status, they’re beyond insane.’
I like to think I can handle insanity, but this is taking it to a whole new level.
‘So always be on guard,’ he says. ‘You could lose more here than you could possibly imagine.’
Is Beliel really looking out for me? There must be an ulterior motive, but I can’t think of one right now. ‘Why are you telling me all this?’ Maybe he’s not Beliel but just someone who looks like him. He sure doesn’t sound like him.
‘You saved me out there,’ he says. ‘I pay what’s owed, good or bad. Besides, I have a soft spot for Daughters of Men. My wife used to be one.’ His voice trails off, and I can barely hear his last sentence.
‘You’re offering to protect me?’ The disbelief clearly comes through in my voice.
‘No one can protect you, little girl, certainly not a newly Fallen whose eyes haven’t grown back yet. Anyone who says they can protect you is lying. It’s just a question of friend or foe. That’s all.’
‘And you’re telling me you’re my friend?’
‘I’m not your enemy.’
‘What the hell kind of bizarro world am I in?’ I whisper to myself.
I don’t expect Beliel to answer, but he does. ‘You’re in the ruins of the hellion world.’
I think about that for a minute. The hellion world? Not the Fallen world? The hellions and the Fallen do look very different. ‘They’re not the same species, are they?’
‘The Fallen and the hellions?’ He snorts. ‘Don’t let anyone hear you even suggest that. Both sides would tear you to pieces and feed your bits to the Consumed.’
‘This was the hellions’ world before the Fallen angels came? The hellions are the natives of the Pit?’
‘I doubt they were much of anything before the Fallen came. All they’re good for is causing torture and pain. Disgusting little rats. They’re even beneath the Consumed, who won’t eat them because even without a body, a Fallen refuses to drop that low.’
I remember how the hellions tortured both Beliel and his wife, and I can see why he hates them. But there might be two sides to this story.
I look around again at the dim basement.
There are remnants of shattered pottery, bits of faded clo
th, broken metal and wood. Someone used to live here. A family of someones, maybe. A very long time ago.
37
Beliel tilts his head, listening. ‘Open the hatch. The other Watchers are coming.’
I’m not keen on letting the others know where we are. I don’t want them to kill me before Raffe can recruit them.
Raffe. He should have landed near Beliel, just like me. What does it mean that he’s not around?
‘Do it, girl. They’re our best hope for survival.’
I hesitate a moment longer. He might be right. Or he might be setting me up for a trap.
Beliel takes the choice out of my hands. ‘We’re in here!’
I quietly slide my blade back into her sheath and put the teddy bear on top. I can’t fight my way through that many Watchers anyway, so I might as well try to keep Pooky hidden for now.
Someone bangs on the hatch. ‘We knew you’d be alive, Big B. Open up. Don’t be shy.’
The wood rattles.
‘You want to live, little angel slayer?’ Beliel nods toward the hatchway. ‘They’re your best chance.’
I could be stubborn and wait until they force it open. But what’s the point? I reluctantly walk up the stone steps and open the hatch.
The Watchers pour in, filling the small hovel.
‘Nice find,’ says Thermo, looking around.
‘Maybe we can relax here for a few seconds,’ says Little B.
‘Oops, time’s up,’ says Howler, slapping his hand on Little B’s shoulder. ‘Back to being tense and hunted.’
The rest just scan the room, silently taking everything in as they walk into the hovel.
More than a dozen Watchers crowd into the space. Some of them sit down on the dirt while others lean against the wall, closing their eyes like they haven’t rested in years. No one talks. No one fidgets. They just rest as if they’re sure they won’t get another chance for several more years.
A loud thunk on the hatch interrupts the quiet.
Everyone tenses, turning toward the opening.
A flapping hellion crashes and tumbles just outside the open hatch. An angel skids after it in a jumble of white feathers and curses.
‘Raffe!’ I rush up the stairs to him. ‘Where have you been?’
He looks up at me from the ground with disorientation in his eyes. The spotted hellion flies out of his grasp. It flitters in a panic into the hovel, and the Watchers swat and kick at it until it frantically flies back out of the hatch.
Raffe blinks at me a couple of times as he slowly gets up.
‘Are you okay?’ I’ve never seen him so disoriented. He looks like I must have when I first arrived here.
And then it hits me that maybe he did just arrive. At first, I think what a great coincidence that he landed near me, but of course, I’m not the connection – it’s Beliel. We went through him, so we arrive near him on the other side.
‘Did you just get here?’ I ask.
But he’s not looking at me. He and the Watchers are staring at each other as each Watcher comes out of the hovel. They position themselves in a circle around him, as though in a dream.
‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘I guess you guys know each other.’ I awkwardly step back.
‘It can’t be,’ says Flyer.
‘Commander?’ asks Hawk with doubt in his voice. ‘Is that you?’
‘What do you mean Commander?’ asks Beliel as he turns his empty eye sockets to Raffe.
‘It’s Archangel Raphael,’ says Thermo.
‘What the hell did you do to get yourself down here?’ asks Cyclone.
‘Your wings . . .’ says Howler. ‘How are they pristine?’
It’s ironic now that Raffe finally has his angel wings back that he’s in the land of demons.
‘Are you on a mission with Uriel?’ asks Thermo, sounding skeptical. ‘I thought he was the only archangel who could come down here. You haven’t turned into a diplomat, have you?’
‘Maybe it’s a trick,’ says Hawk. ‘Maybe it’s not really him.’
‘What was the biggest kill you ever made?’ asks Cyclone.
‘A foot taller and wider than the biggest kill you ever made, Cyclone.’ Raffe brushes dust off himself.
‘It really is you,’ says Cyclone.
‘What happened?’ asks Flyer. ‘How are you here?’
‘Long story,’ says Raffe. ‘We have much to catch up on.’
‘Betrayer!’ Beliel looks furious. He slams his body against Raffe. They hit the ground and grapple as Beliel tries to pummel Raffe.
The others grab him and pull him off.
‘You swore!’ yells Beliel as he struggles against his buddies. ‘I left her in your care! Do you know what they did to her? Do you?’
The Watchers subdue Beliel, putting a hand over his mouth and whispering in his ear to calm down.
‘We should talk,’ says Raffe, getting up. ‘Is this a good place?’
‘There are no good places in the Pit,’ says Hawk.
‘We should go someplace where we have easy escape routes,’ says Thermo. ‘Anything that might be looking for a meal just heard its dinner bell.’
In the distance, something screams. It’s hard to tell how close it is.
Beliel stops struggling, but he’s breathing hard and fast. He may be blind, but there’s nothing wrong with his ears.
‘Let’s get out of here,’ says Cyclone. He takes the lead. The rest of us follow.
Even though Beliel is obviously furious with Raffe, he still walks with his back to him like they weren’t archenemies. He also follows the group as if it never occurred to him to not cooperate. His bulging muscles start to unclench, and the tension in his shoulders softens as he walks.
The hate-filled edge I’m used to seeing in Beliel is not there, even in this horrid place. Whatever happened to him to make him that way hasn’t happened yet.
We follow the Watchers away from the hovel just as the screaming of those Consumed whip heads fills the air again.
Raffe pulls me into his arms and takes flight.
38
‘Stay low,’ says one of the Watchers, ‘where they can’t see you.’
Raffe swoops down and flies at almost ground level along with the Watchers. We swing side to side, barely avoiding broken wheels, piles of rubble, and burned-out husks of something unrecognizable.
Behind us, the Pit lord with the flaming wings comes roaring after us. He whips his screaming heads at his set of newly Fallen who strain to fly as fast as they can. The spotted hellion that came with Raffe flies beside the Pit lord like a giant winged rat, pointing at us.
We glide along the broken street until we turn a corner and come face-to-face with a set of screaming heads.
Raffe shifts me so that he’s holding me from behind. Without speaking, I know what he wants me to do. He can’t carry me and fight at the same time. I pull out my sword.
Raffe swoops left, and I cut a swath through the Consumed. Their teeth and hair fall to the ground as the blade slices through them.
Behind us, the Watchers fan out in a wedge formation with us in the lead. I’m the only one with a weapon, so it becomes my job to cut through whatever gets in our way. The Watchers punch and kick their way behind us.
I’ve never fought on a real team before other than with Raffe, but we all fall into a rhythm that doesn’t require words for us to coordinate.
Someone yells behind us.
We all turn to look. The Pit lord has caught Flyer, who was at the end of our formation. Flyer is bent over on his back over the edge of the chariot with the Pit lord pressing on either side of him so that his back is about to snap in half.
Everyone exchanges a quick look, then the entire formation veers, returning to rescue Flyer.
The air is filled with the screaming Consumed looking for bodies.
Hawk and Cyclone lead the charge back to Flyer with a fierce war cry. They are the first hit with the screaming heads. Instead of trying to avoid them, they charge right
into them, getting hit with half a dozen each.
As soon as they land on Hawk and Cyclone, they begin chewing and burrowing into their flesh.
Hawk and Cyclone grab the hair of a couple of heads per hand and yank them off their skin. They swing the heads by the hair and use them to bat away the others. Their hands drip with blood as the Consumed hair cuts into them, but they don’t seem to care.
The other Consumed converge on Hawk and Cyclone.
Four other Watchers zip in and pluck and smash the chewing heads off the two kamikaze Watchers, acting as their support to keep them alive. Meanwhile, the rest of us fly in toward the Pit lord while Hawk and Cyclone distract the Consumed.
Instead of waiting, the Pit lord lets go of Flyer and leaps at us.
His blazing wings sweep the air with flames, looking like he’s shooting toward us in a ball of fire.
His fiery wings make it impossible to come at him from any direction other than head-on. And Raffe and I are directly in front of him.
As the Pit lord swipes his blazing wing at us, a Watcher charges between us, protecting us with his body as he punches the Pit lord. Instead of punching back, the Pit lord grabs him by the throat and closes his wings. For a moment, we can’t see anything but a giant ball of fire as his wings encase the Pit lord and the Watcher.
When he opens his wings again, the Watcher is in flames. His remaining feathers along with every scrap of hair on his body are on fire.
The Pit lord drops him, and the Watcher roars as he falls, landing hard and rolling on the ground, trying to smash the flames out.
The Pit lord comes back for us. Raffe holds his air space while the other Watchers rescue Flyer.
Raffe nods to one of the Watchers who then takes position below us. I’m guessing he’s there to catch me if I fall.
‘Don’t you dare let me go,’ I say.
‘I’m not letting you get burned,’ he says.
The Pit lord charges us in a halo of flames.
Raffe veers down, avoiding the burn.