To Hell And Back (The Lily Harper #3)

by H. P. Mallory

  And just like that, I was suddenly me again. The pain and nausea instantly vanished—nothing but a distant memory. I found myself on all fours on the dirt floor. I was panting, and my breath came and went in short little gasps that made me light-headed and dizzy. As soon as I regained my bearings, I sat up and faced Tallis, turning my attention to my sword, which still lay pressed against him.

  While focusing on the shiny steel of my sword’s blade, realization dawned on me. I was completely, undeniably convinced that my sword had been communicating with me. My sword had been the one to inform me what Tallis needed and how I could help him. I still didn’t understand how it was possible, or why, but there was definitely an intense connection between Tallis and me and that connection was borne through my sword.

  I took another deep breath and stood up as I tried to determine what I should do next. It was one thing to know what had to be done, and another thing to know how to execute it.

  You must release the pollutants from Tallis’s body, I repeated to myself, growing angry when the answer didn’t appear right away.

  “Release the pollutants? What does that even mean?” I yelled out, throwing my hands up in the air with unconcealed frustration. “What does that mean?” I repeated more softly as my gaze fell on Tallis again. He’d already fallen victim to whatever sleep had claimed him for the last five or so hours. I suddenly felt like I wanted to cry, because although I didn’t like seeing him straining against his ropes and thrashing around, it was a definite improvement to the catatonic state he’d been in previously, and was now in once again.

  Donnchadh’s pollutants had to be contaminating Tallis, stealing whatever strength and will Tallis had left to defeat the warrior spirit inside him. I had to act and I had to act quickly …

  “But I don’t know what to do!” I screamed out loud as tears filled my eyes. I just felt so helpless, so completely useless, as precious seconds and minutes kept slipping past. Each second that elapsed meant Tallis was losing the fight, and there wasn’t a damn thing I was doing about it.

  But I don’t know what to do! I repeated, this time in my mind.

  My palms grew clammy as sweat began beading along the small of my back, tickling me as it dripped. I started to pace, searching for an answer, and trying to understand what it meant that I had to release the pollutants of Donnchadh. I paced forward and backward four times, hammering myself with the question of how to solve this riddle.

  And then, like a beacon in the darkness, the answer appeared.

  I remembered an instance a long time ago when I was walking through the Dark Wood alone. I’d stumbled across Tallis in the snow. He’d been sitting on his haunches with his black kilt hiding his lower half. His bare back with the Celtic tattoos on his upper arms and the image of the leafless tree which dominated the entirety of his back faced me. But, at the time, I hadn’t so much noticed his tattoos as I had the blood which poured from the branches and roots of the tree on his back, making the tree, itself, appear to be bleeding. Tallis’s blood had stained the white snow beneath him, but the snow hadn’t absorbed it. Rather, it appeared that the snow had rejected Tallis’s blood because it flowed into a single channel, which emptied into a small creek in front of him.

  I recalled my utter confusion at seeing Tallis pick up a cat o’ nine tails before he began flogging himself with it. I’d watched in horror as the multiple braided leather thongs, attached to silver blades, dug into his flesh, and his body bled out its response. Only later did I learn that this was Tallis’s way of atoning for his ignoble past. What I’d failed to realize, until now, was that this same ritual was also responsible for releasing the pollutants from Donnchadh, pollutants that would otherwise disallow Tallis’s spirit from predominating over Donnchadh’s.

  My eyes grew wider as I understood what I needed to do.

  I can’t do it to him, I thought to myself as I shook my head and felt sick to my stomach. I can’t hurt him.

  You have to! I chided back. Because if you don’t, Donnchadh’s spirit will take over and Tallis will be lost.

  No …

  If you don’t release the toxins that are suffocating him, you’re allowing him to die, Lily. You can’t allow Tallis to die! I reprimanded my other voice.

  It took me another few seconds before I could accept the idea that I would have to whip Tallis in order to make him bleed out Donnchadh’s pollutants. It wasn’t a task that was easy to accept but once I’d made peace with it, I faced the problem of locating the cat o’ nine tails. I turned around in a circle to take stock of my surroundings. But figuring it wasn’t as though Tallis would flaunt the thing by hanging it up in clear sight, I imagined I’d probably have to search through his belongings. That wasn’t a daunting job because Tallis didn’t possess much. He was a minimalist, to the max.

  For the next five minutes, I searched Tallis’s house, and came up empty-handed. Feeling utterly deflated and even more concerned about Tallis’s inner battle than before, I collapsed into a heap beside the still man. I felt like crying.

  “Where would you keep it?” I asked while shaking my head. Feeling sweat beading on my lower back again, I proceeded to bang my left elbow on the wooden post of the bed as I tried to scratch my back. A sharp pain inundated my arm, but it didn’t concern me. Instead, I got onto my hands and knees, and bent over so I could search beneath Tallis’s bed; the one place I’d overlooked.

  Sure enough, the offensively cruel implement was pushed into the corner, between the bedpost and the wall. Elation suffused me, all the way to my ears as I reached for the thing. Then, remembering what I was about to do, all the elation fled just as quickly as it had come.

  You can do this, Lily, I prepped myself. Wrapping my palm around the leather handle, I pulled it out from beneath the bed and faced Tallis, whom I found in peaceful repose.

  But I knew better. It was just a matter of minutes before he’d start thrashing back and forth and speaking incoherently. Yep, there was no way around this brutality, and wishful thinking would only cost Tallis and me more valuable time. Sighing, I faced my first challenge—rotating Tallis over since he was currently tied to the bedposts. There was no way I could turn him over in his present state which meant I’d have to untie him … And that didn’t exactly sound like a good idea.

  There’s no other way! I told myself as visions of Donnchadh attacking me returned anew.

  But I was right—there really was no other way.

  I leaned down next to Tallis, placing the cat o’ nine tails on the floor beside me. I started to untie Tallis’s left wrist from the bedpost, keeping an eye on his face the entire time while scanning him for any sign of awareness. But I didn’t notice anything. Once his left hand was loose, I retrieved the line of rope. Then holding my sword in place against his chest, I wrapped the rope around his middle, from his chest to his back, and around to his chest again. I knotted the rope and pulled against it as hard as I could to ensure that it was tight and my sword wouldn’t budge. I figured since my sword had protected me in the past against Donnchadh, it was the best protection I had now. Especially since I was in the process of untying him …

  “I’m not going to untie your legs, just so you know,” I said out loud and then wondered why I was basically talking to myself. But not finding an immediate answer, I focused on the task at hand again. I figured Donnchadh would be easier to control with his legs bound; well, that is, if it were Donnchadh that I’d soon be dealing with. And, really, it wouldn’t be difficult to flip Tallis onto his stomach with his legs still bound. I just had to be careful to make sure my sword didn’t castrate him in the process.

  I started untying the rope around his right hand, but not before taking a few seconds to determine whether or not he was still asleep. With his eyes closed and his breathing regular, I figured I was safe. Once both of his hands were free, his body started to slump forward, owing to the laws of gravity. I pushed against him, and kept him in a sitting position to make sure my sword didn’t inadvertent
ly geld him. Carefully rotating him until he was lying on his side, I straightened out his legs so his private parts were in no way near the sharp edge of my sword’s blade.

  “Hmm,” I said as I studied his back. I could access it perfectly while he was on his side, so I didn’t need to push him all the way onto his stomach after all. That was good news for his nether region. In order to protect his neck and head from the cat o’ nine tails, I tucked his head down and forward as far as it would comfortably go. That done, I turned to my next item of business. Glancing down at the cat o’ nine tails where it lay on the ground, I picked it up.

  Do it, Lily, I ordered myself once it became clearly obvious that I was stalling. ’Course, I’d never so much as held a cat o’ nine tails before, so it only made sense for the thing to feel unfamiliar and awkward to me. Imagining that I was standing too close to Tallis, I backed up a few steps and strained to remember the way he’d flogged himself when I’d come across him in the snow.

  Stop stalling and do it already! I yelled at myself.

  Without another excuse, I raised the hideous object above my head, and brought it down with as much force as I could muster, which wasn’t excessive. The braided ends with the razor blades hit Tallis’s skin, but barely half of them left a mark. The marks they did manage to leave weren’t anything compared to what he’d done to himself in the snow.

  There was no response from Tallis at all.

  You have to do it much harder, I told myself. I inhaled deeply, recognizing the truth in my words because this first attempt merely left shallow scratches on his back. Only a few of the blades drew any blood, and the few drops of blood they did draw were miniscule, at best. I lifted the device above my head again and brought my arm down as hard as I could. The resulting impact of the leather thongs against Tallis’s back made me grit my teeth.

  But my extra effort paid off. Each braided end flogged his skin, and more than a few of the blades embedded themselves into his back. When I pulled against them, I found they wouldn’t budge. I gently pulled a few more times before deciding my tender ministrations were pointless. So, steeling myself, I yanked on the cat o’ nine tails as hard as I could. The handle reeled back at me but all of the blades freed themselves from Tallis’s back.

  Angry, red lacerations immediately spread all over his skin, bubbling over in seconds with thick, syrupy blood. Tallis’s blood was much darker than I expected. In fact, it was so dark, it appeared almost chocolate brown, and was much more sludgy and viscous than human blood should have been.

  Donnchadh’s contaminants, I thought, figuring the answer made sense.

  Rivulets of the gluey stuff began to run down Tallis’s back, covering the black ink of his tree tattoo. But I knew this wasn’t enough blood to purify him. Nope, I’d probably need to drain as much of the contaminated blood as I could until it started to run red and fluid. Glancing back up at my handiwork, I realized I had a good way still to go.

  I lifted the cat o’ nine tails up over my head again and brought it down even harder than I had previously. The blades stuck into his flesh as before, but this time, I didn’t waste a moment trying to gently extract them. I jerked on them, using as much strength as I could manage and the blades pulled themselves free, leaving deeper and more numerous wounds on his back. The fudge-like, brown blood began bubbling out of the new wounds, resembling chocolate snail trails that snaked to the ground below. Without respite, I flogged Tallis again, hating the sound of the leather when it snapped his bare skin. But I hated thinking about the damage I was inflicting on him even more.

  Luckily for me, he didn’t make a sound. He didn’t flinch. Nothing.

  I whipped Tallis with the cat o’ nine tails another four times before I felt content with the number of wounds I’d inflicted. The color of the blood that was streaming down his back changed from a deep brown to a lighter, brownish-red and was no longer gluey in consistency. However, it still wasn’t moving as freely as it should have. Either way, I was exhausted and doubted if I could ever hold either of my arms over my head again.

  “That’s it for now,” I said, my voice revealing my exasperation and fatigue.

  I watched Tallis’s blood pool into a large puddle on the dirt floor; and just like the snow I’d witnessed earlier, the earth refused to absorb it. The blood just continued to puddle on the ground until it resembled chocolate Jell-O pudding. Then, all at once, the puddle completely dissolved into the earth without a trace, as if it had never been in the first place.

  Dropping the cat o’ nine tails, I approached Tallis, stepping over him so I could check his breathing and make sure he was still alive. The expression on his face was just as placid as it had been before I flogged him. His breathing seemed more regular, and less labored. Or maybe I was just imagining it.

  Intending to clean up the wounds I’d inflicted on him, I reached for the muslin and doused it in water. I sopped up all the remaining blood that trickled from the various gashes on his back, and observed the wounds already healing themselves. That was one of the benefits of being immortal … Tallis could heal himself.

  I supposed being possessed by an unruly warrior spirit did have some advantages …

  “Near to a fount that boils”

  – Dante’s Inferno

  FIVE

  Tallis slept for another two days and two nights.

  During that time, he continued to toss and turn, thrashing around and mumbling incoherently. But the more time that elapsed, the less frequent were his bouts of unease. By the second day, I figured out Tallis’s disquiet was an indication that Donnchadh’s pollutants were building up inside his body and needed to be purged. That meant I had to release the impurities from Tallis’s body, yep, by flogging him with the cat o’ nine tails. Once the lashing was over, he would sleep like a baby.

  Tallis’s peaceful sleep wasn’t the only sign that the floggings were helping him. His blood was no longer coagulated and dark brown like it was the first time I took the cat o’ nine tails to his back. Now, it was a bright crimson that flowed freely as soon as the blades of the leather braids tore his skin.

  It is Monday morning, Bill’s phone announced via a buzzing text message. I was lying on Tallis’s bed, the gigantic Scotsman beside me on the floor, snoring peacefully. I had just been about to get some zzzs, myself, before the phone alerted me back to wakefulness. With a grunt, I fished it out from my fanny pack, which lay beside me, and flipped open the top of the phone.

  Thanks, Alaire, I texted back clumsily. I’d had to whip Tallis so many times, the palms of my hands were red and blistered. Consequently, I’d wrapped my right hand, which suffered worse than my left, in the muslin after soaking it in cold water. It seemed the muslin was the only thing to relieve the stinging from my chafed and blistered skin.

  I daresay you are in the midst of your voyage to meet me at the gates of the Underground?

  Not exactly, I typed back, thinking he was probably going to have a big hissy fit once he read the rest of what I had to say. In fact, I’m running late. Really late.

  There was a ten-second delay before he responded. Explain.

  I heard myself sighing audibly as I faced the sleeping Tallis and suddenly wished he’d wake up so I could give him a clean bill of health and be on my way back to the Underground City. But that was just wishful thinking … The nature of the business which called me here requires me to stay for another day or so, which means I probably won’t be able to see you until Friday, or maybe even later.

  I shuddered as I awaited his reply because I knew Alaire was used to getting what he wanted and wouldn’t be a good sport when he didn’t.

  This will not do.

  I sighed again, frustration growing inside me. I really didn’t feel like justifying myself to Alaire at the moment. No, I was exhausted and my hands were still burning as if I’d just plunged them into boiling water. And my arms and my shoulders didn’t feel much better—my muscles ached after the numerous floggings I’d had to deliver. I probably ne
eded my sleep as much as Tallis did. I’m not sure what you want me to do, I responded testily. Even if I were to leave at this exact moment, it would STILL take me four days to reach the gates of the Underground from here.

  You are in breach of our agreement, Ms. Harper, Alaire texted back almost immediately. I could detect the anger seeping through his terse words.

  My teeth began gritting of their own accord and even though I wanted to tell Alaire where he could shove it, I knew I couldn’t. Not while Alaire basically still held all the cards in the deck known as “Lily Harper’s Future.” I’m sorry, but it couldn’t be avoided. I decided to add an unhappy face emoticon, hoping it might make Alaire feel sorry for me.

  There was another long pause, and I wondered if maybe he was contacting Afterlife Enterprises to make sure I did get the infraction he’d promised to waive. As soon as that thought formed in my head, anxiety started brewing in my gut and I felt nauseous.

  Hello? Are you still there? I typed, suddenly scared to death that I had just earned my first infraction. One more and I’d be headed to Shade, where I’d have to stay for the next hundred years …

  Apologies for the delay, he replied as my heart continued to hammer in my chest. I have dispatched a guide to accompany you from your current location back to the gates of the Underground City.

  I exhaled a pent-up breath I hadn’t even realized I was holding. So apparently Alaire hadn’t been on the line with Afterlife Enterprises, which meant I wasn’t in jeopardy of earning my first infraction! I could only hope … But that didn’t explain the guide he’d dispatched.

  Thanks for the guide (I think?), I texted back, my heart climbing up my throat. I was still too concerned about whether or not my neck was still on the line in the infraction department to even contemplate why Alaire would send me a guide in the first place.

  You are quite welcome.

  Then I thought I probably should inquire. So maybe I’m missing something, but I’m not sure why you’re sending me a guide?