He seized a cup from his throne, bone against metal making a sickening scrape. He hopped down the many stairs to the water’s edge, bent gracefully, dipped the cup in and lifted it. “Come here, pretty girl. Drink with me.” He reached out his other hand as she closed the final few steps to the bank. From beneath the water’s surface, myriad human bones rose and formed a makeshift bridge.
Percy fought the terror wishing to overtake her. Crossing the river struck her as something she ought to avoid, not to mention the horror of setting foot upon such a bridge. Also, she would avoid all fruit.
“But what if I want to go back?” she said breathlessly. “If I’m freshly dead, perhaps there’s still a place for me on earth. For me, my child…”
“Your husband, too, I suppose. Or are you an unfortunate? Ruined, are you?”
Percy stiffened at the insult. “My husband, too.”
Those sculpted then scapular shoulders shrugged. “Very well, you may wait. I suppose there’s a chance you might still live. Sometimes there come rare miracles.” He cleared the river in a sudden gazelle’s leap to stand beside her, sliding a bony hand around her waist. He bent his head close. “You know I’ll have you in the end. I always have everyone in the end.”
Percy leaned away but did not jerk aside, suppressing her revulsion. She mustn’t insult him, manipulation was key. “Not everyone stays here,” she countered, her voice somehow calm. “This is not a final destination for all.”
“True, but all pass through. And some I want to keep. I’m looking for a new wife, you know, as my old one’s too much trouble. I’m looking for several, actually, in case I lose more of them.”
“Oh?”
“Once my servant finally tells me where she’s gone, I’ll scatter her bits across the earth and end this silly drama for good. Drink up, pretty thing. Don’t worry. This won’t bind you. It’ll make you wiser, sadder, perhaps, but it won’t bind you.”
Percy wasn’t about to believe him; surely he had baited her predecessor with the same lie and pomegranate seeds. She turned horrified eyes into the golden cup, hoping to mask her shaking hands. Bringing it to her lips, she heard the liquid hiss within, murmur, beg, cry.
Darkness walked a step ahead of her to inspect something at the water’s edge. Percy took the opportunity to set the cup upon a stone post, and moved to fall in again at his side. It was an upraised hand begging for help that had caught his eye—or eye socket. He stepped upon the risen palm and pushed it back below the surface.
Percy’s heart thundered anew. “But, how is it you don’t know where she is? Your wife, I mean. I’d have thought you omnipotent.”
His pretty lips frowned before he had no expression but a row of teeth. “No, no, I leave omnipotence for another being who is strangely absent. You and I, my sweet, are pawns. I may be a knight or a castle to your pawn, but we remain pieces in some elaborate game whose point none of us knows.”
“Then, why find her?”
“Who, my wife? Because she’s mine!”
In many ways, she sensed, Darkness was an angry child. Percy wondered if she could use that against him. “Oh, I see. Of course. One must of course fight for what is theirs.” He appeared placated. He grinned, and his row of teeth gnashed in delight, and unable to help herself Percy added, “Unless it never was theirs to begin with.”
Darkness glowered. His bones rattled. And that’s when she saw it: the key she sought hung upon his sternum, when he was bone. It was encased in flesh when he was solid. If she could grab hold when he was bone, if she could grab and run…It was enough to make her nauseated with panic.
As if by the grace of a higher power, her mind’s eye saw a vision: The key was in her hand. She was running toward Alexi, her bright light and fierce protector. If she pretended this were a dream, another of her visions, would it help?
Her eyes blinked back to the present moment and gazed upon empty eye sockets. Her heart surged with resolve. Darkness’s head was cocked at a disturbing angle and he asked, “Do you toy with me, girl?”
Percy smiled demurely. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Are you toying with me?”
“I toy with everyone.”
Percy nodded. “Of course. Because you’re very potent.” Giving a coy smile, though fighting an inward shudder, she glanced at the tower behind his throne. “Why do you keep your seat of power here? It’s hardly decorated, all this stone. I’d have thought you’d want something more lavish.” She was risking much, pressing for information about that roomful of friendly blue fire, but she had to try. Her vision had just shown her victorious.
His cruel, beautiful mouth twisted. “Curious, aren’t you?”
“I was born so. I suppose I died so.”
“Well, then.” Darkness held out a skeletal arm. “Shall I show you?”
Percy choked back disgust, smiled and took his flesh then bone arm.
Once Alexi had gotten again to his feet, he glared at Beatrice, who held another ball of flame in her hand, her expression intent. She pointed at the floor. Alexi followed her gaze. His eyes widened, and he watched two particular dots. He had to force himself not to cry out as the red flame sidled closer to the blue.
There was a sparkling line to the side of their demarked forms. A door. One of the new doors. Beatrice gestured and pointed below.
“I might see in, and watch for her safety?” he asked.
She gestured to the perimeters of the portal in which she stood, held out her hand and made a dramatic motion that seemed to speak to his head exploding.
“Yes, yes, I’ll not go in.”
She widened her eyes and held up her hand, emphatic.
“Yes, I promise. But thank you for showing me the way.” Glancing at the map, he counted the corridors between and deduced where he should head. “Looks like the second floor. I’ll not leave you to fend for yourself, Percy, beloved fool. I will do what I can.”
He tore up the stairs and out toward Promethe Hall’s grand staircase.
Darkness strolled with her, but Percy was clear to remember their path. She was encouraged by the fact that Aodhan stayed in view, far behind, visible to her only at the far corners of her eyes, stepping in and out of shadow.
When her guide’s feet were skeletal, they echoed oddly against the stone. There was subtle movement around his heel and toe bones. Percy didn’t stare. She truly didn’t want to know what sprang from Darkness’s step. She assumed it wasn’t spring foliage.
It wasn’t difficult for her to remember their route; they essentially moved in a wide circle. Their path curved around the dais, around the vast brick tower. The moatlike river rushed to their right and onward, its tributary path unknown, perhaps farther underground, and upon closer inspection Percy noticed that the items floating on its surface were not ordinary detritus; the occasional bone or odd remembrance, a flower, locket, portrait or letter were this waterway’s flotsam and jetsam.
Darkness watched her watching the items. “All the little things people think matter. None of it matters here. Trash, all of it. Human life.”
“Do you hate humans?” she couldn’t help but ask.
“They’re the reason I’m here. Their sorrow made me at the dawn of time, their habitual discontent keeps me here, empowers me in the grey space of the freshly dead and those who live as if they were dead—and the dead who wish they lived.” He giggled at his own awkward poetry. “Some dead enter here and refuse to leave. But eventually even they, who distrust balm of eternal peace, give up their ghosts and fall into the river, their bones making it more and more shallow as they pile up, year after year.”
Percy shuddered.
“I frighten you,” Darkness murmured.
“No, it’s interesting,” Percy argued.
“It’s all right. I frighten people.” He leaned close. She could hear his bony jaw snap against her ear. “I like it.”
Percy tried not to shrink away but couldn’t help it, and the subsequent chuckle was unspeakably unpleasant.
&n
bsp; “You’ll grow accustomed to it. Even my enemies are now inured to life in the Whisper-world.”
“Enemies?” Percy thrilled at the path of the conversation. “You’ve enemies?”
Darkness gnashed his teeth. “It started with my bride—the force I took rightfully for my own. She was made of feminine joy, loyalty and youth. She was a creature of light. We were meant to be. We make the necessary pair, she, the light to my shadow!” he crowed. But then his beautiful face was pained, and his skull, too, grimaced. “She already had a lover, stupid girl, treating him like some angel, some paragon. I burned him to a crisp. But he lived on in human pawns, and her damnable heart would never surrender.”
Percy didn’t bother to hide her disturbed expression, for Darkness seemed to enjoy it. “What happened?”
“Muses followed what was left of him, seeing themselves as his votaries. They jumped into human flesh to form a rather troublesome cult.”
“What do they do?”
“My sustenance is the sorrow and misery gathered unto me by restless minions I send to mortal earth. But the blasted Guard sends them back empty, starving me, while they live on! But in the end, all human flesh must come through here. Even they.” He grinned. “They arrive in sets of six. Horrified to see me, of course.”
Percy gulped. “And then?”
“I’m supposed to let any who wish move on to Peace.” He waved his hand in disgust. “Not them. I’ve gathered them up, found them out, given them no peace. I’ve now collected them all into my woe.” He giggled, and his jaw chattered.
They were now on the opposite side of the dais, where the rounded stone wall of the tower continued seamlessly. There was a lock, dangling down from a thick and rusty chain from the endless shadow above. Out of the corner of Percy’s eye, she saw Aodhan gesture for her to ply him further.
“Where are they? Your enemies?”
Darkness scowled. His skeletal jaw clenched. “Why?”
Percy affected embarrassment. “Forgive me. All of this is so fascinating.”
“They’re not more interesting than me. They’re not more important than me,” Darkness growled. “She always thought that. Always coddling and entertaining them, praising them for their work against me. But I found them, tore down their precious sanctuary, ruined their haven and locked them all up! I enjoy punishing her and her hapless servants. They’ve become hollow, pitiful little wraiths, weak and useless. And she’s gone, so they’ve no one now to help! They’ll turn to me, they will, once they see she’s abandoned them.”
Percy leaned in. “I believe you. I believe in your power.”
“Do you?”
“Show me.”
Darkness looked wary. “Show you what?”
“I want to see what you’ve done to them,” she said, achingly. “I’m so curious, I just might ask to stay…” She waited until his scapula was a shoulder and dragged a finger down his arm.
He shuddered with an uncomfortably desirous sound and grinned at her, his ruby eyes sparkling. Growling hungrily, he dragged a skeletal finger down her cheek, returning the favour. Percy forced her shudder to appear one of desire.
Darkness plucked the key from his sternum and shoved it into the hanging lock. There was a rumbling and grating sound. “You’ll see, Pearl, how pathetic they are—and how powerful, I. You’ll. Want. To. Stay.”
Percy’s fingers itched to grab the key, but the moment had to be right. She inched surreptitiously closer to the lock.
Across the river, large bricks fell away to reveal a vast metal door, like the kind she imagined on ancient castles. The door swung open, and a bright but flickering light came from within: hundreds—thousands!—of ghosts, from every race and era of humankind. A few of them blinked, coming forward toward the opening, confused by the prospect of freedom from their cell. They were hollow forms, luminous only in flickering heartbeats. Separately their fires were all but burned out, but together they glowed. All The Guard that ever were.
Darkness made a sweeping gesture, and the river overflowed its banks toward the prisoners, lapping at the toes of those who dared come forward. The water hissed and nipped at them with predatory teeth. The Guard spirits whimpered like wounded animals, crying inhuman sounds and shuddering, staring at the water in horror, retreating as if scalded. Darkness giggled again.
Percy’s heart broke for these poor mortal souls dragged innocently into a service they never wholly understood and left to rot, left off worse than dead, simply for trying to keep Darkness from harvesting his requisite horror. Her pity turned to anger. Her bosom burned with light, and several things converged at once.
A bent-shouldered man, once dark-skinned and handsome, stepped up onto a fallen rock and away from the oncoming tide of water. Staring at Percy, his dark eyes wide, he straightened, his tunic hanging less like rags and more like a priest’s robe, and two words flew from his lips in what Percy recognized as Arabic: “Our Lady!”
The horde turned to stare across the water at Darkness, then at Percy. The assemblage of spirits fell reverently to their knees.
Darkness narrowed his eyes at her. His skull’s eye sockets burned even blacker.
“She’s here!” crowed a horrifically familiar voice. Percy whirled to behold an ash body with a head full of snakes, dragging and scraping into the chamber, a mere torso scrabbling toward them: Lucille Linden. Still the Gorgon lived, having half assembled while Beatrice and Aodhan were otherwise occupied. She squealed, her throat gurgling molten ash and her broken serpents rattling against the stones. “Right before your face, you damn fool! Mortal! Dash her brains against the rocks!”
Percy could feel her own light burning brighter, helplessly reactive.
Just as Darkness opened his mouth in rage, there was another sound—a roaring and tearing—and a portal opened high and distant in the air above and behind them. Percy looked up to see Alexi’s silhouette in it, an upper Athens foyer and The Guard behind him, chanting strengths and encouragement and she realized her world was not now as far away as she once imagined.
Darkness whirled. “You? You live. And. You. Dare.” His fury choked him as he shot a bony hand straight for her throat, toward her gathering light.
Percy dodged his initial clawing thrust but was unable to avoid the hard upswing of his fleshy fist, mashing her lip against her teeth, strands of her hair yanked away in bony fingertips. She reeled back in pain as red blood spurted onto her grey dress. Putting her hand to her lip, through the pain she nonetheless noticed how Darkness retracted his bones from her light.
“Damn you!” bellowed Alexi from above, from behind the portal. His booming voice carried, and it stunned all inhabitants of the Whisper-world over whom it washed. Out of the wave of fire bursting from him, a great and furious bird descended, made of roaring blue light. Its great wings and fearsome claws tore and beat against the alternately beautiful and skeletal body of its enemy. “She’s not yours for the taking! She never has been!” the phoenix roared, Alexi’s words reverberating from its mouth.
Darkness batted at its fiery blue wings and talons in rage and irritation, if not in defeat. Lucille’s remains were kept at bay by other tendrils of blue fire, her writhing coils of hair hissing and snapping. In the distance there came barking, growing louder. Percy didn’t want to wait for a third monster to face, so she seized her opportunity, snatched the key from the lock and ran.
The Guard poured from their prison, clustered in sixes as they sought to cross the river, puzzled as to how to ford the dangerous waters. These legions filled the vast grey landscape with increasing hope, freshening the mildewed air, and their arms stretched out toward where Alexi stood as an angelic sentinel, a conduit for a glorious rain of cerulean flame. The leaders drank in this energy, invigorated, he their direct source to the fire of the Grand Work making them powerful once more, and with them, the other Guard. Percy felt as if she were witnessing a masterwork painting come to life, a heavenly host arming itself at the gates of hell.
It w
as a terrible strain on Alexi’s powerful but mortal body to be the sole bearer of such power and send it forth to others. Percy’s heart seized with love and concern. She had to get out and pull him away.
“Angels have no sway here!” Darkness hissed. He cast aside Phoenix’s blue fire as if it were a heaping cloak, his own red shroud flaring up around him like armour. The ticktock of his skeleton to flesh now lingered more moments in bone. He growled, turning to Percy with his eyes bloody fire. The river hissed and gurgled, and a surging wave rose that would surely rush to drag her under.
Something began in Percy’s mind as soft music, and a voice not entirely her own flew from her lips—a voice that had once proclaimed great things, banished Gorgons and saved The Guard’s lives. “Perhaps not angels, but I once did,” an elder power murmured.
An arc of light burst from Percy, landing a vicious slap upon Darkness’s skull. Particles of bone flaked from his cheek. The light then spread over the river, and the black water became frosted glass, which The Guard instantly poured across, swarming the opposite bank. Countless leader spirits added their power to the firebird form still harassing Darkness. Their shackles of firelight could not hold him in this realm, but they slowed him.
Darkness reeled, swatting at the blue fire all around. He stared down his empty breast, then at the empty lock, where the key had been. Flickering into the shape of a man, he gave a pathetic wail in Percy’s retreating direction: “You’d tear my heart again?”
Percy turned, a comfortable distance now between them but continued moving—she didn’t trust the very shadows not to seize her. “This body doesn’t know you,” she cried, her voice again her own. “And it seems you never had a heart to lose.”
“You. Will. All. Pay.” The voice of Darkness was amplified over the water, echoing, and he broke all remaining tendrils of flame with a blow. He flung an arm forward and the river gushed up, a wave of black water and morphing stone that that crested toward her.
“Oh, I’m quite sure,” Percy muttered. Standing firm, she gripped his key so tightly she thought its grooves might make her hand bleed.
The Darkly Luminous Fight for Persephone Parker Page 28