The City of Flame and Shadow

by Kim Richardson

“The trials were created by your own kind,” continued Markus, as he sensed her hesitation. “The archangels hid the sword in purgatory and put in place the Inferno Trials, making it impossible for us to take it. Only an archangel or angel can wield the sword and use it to leave purgatory.”

  “How come you know so much about these trials?” asked Milo.

  “When you’ve been here as long as I have,” said Markus, “there’s nothing I don’t know that goes on in this world. I know all its secrets. Purgatory isn’t just a world of black and white. It’s many things. And I know there’s no escape for us… but for you, it’s a different matter.” He was silent for a moment. “Perhaps they knew that one day you would come to fetch the sword. I don’t know. All I know is that the sword was placed here by the archangels.”

  Alexa kept her hands from shaking despite the panic devouring every last part of her. She glanced at Milo.

  “Why would the Legion hide the sword in this place if it’s so valuable?”

  Milo shrugged. “Maybe because a weapon this powerful would be devastating in the wrong hands?”

  “I guess we’ll never know. Will we?” said Markus, a half smile on his face. “Still, your beloved Legion likes to play twisted games with its own angels. And one of its favorites is making angels prove themselves over and over, prove their loyalty to the Legion. Seems to me they consider you angels more like their servants than their warriors.”

  At this, some of the demons laughed.

  “We didn’t come here to discuss the Legion,” seethed Alexa, whose dislike for the demon boy was throbbing in her like a bad migraine.

  “Let’s cut to the business part of this,” said Milo, his light eyes suspicious. “A door will open once we complete the trials, correct? Send us through to Horizon, back to our world?”

  “Correct,” said Markus in a voice as pleasant as though he were giving a compliment.

  “Since this place—purgatory—is your realm,” Milo said, “who’s responsible for opening the trials?”

  “I am.”

  “Of course, he would be,” mumbled Alexa, and she tightened the grip on her blade, her hands shaking.

  “It’s one of my duties,” said the boy demon. “I am bound to the trials. Think of me as the Master of Ceremony.”

  “And how exactly does that work? Do you know what we’re supposed to do in these trials?” asked Alexa. As she stared into his black eyes, she realized she might die, might suffer the true death.

  Markus’ eyes flashed. “The Inferno Trials consist of three tasks,” he said, “three challenges to prove your dedication and sense of loyalty to the Legion, to demonstrate that you are the Legion’s true angels—and not demons impersonating angels. Complete all three tasks, and the bone sword is yours.”

  “And then we can go home,” pressed Alexa.

  Markus watched her. “And then you can go home.”

  Markus raised a brow, his smile growing, revealing far too many of those white teeth. “When you complete all the tasks, the back door to purgatory will open for you. You’ll be free to go home.”

  “Unharmed?”

  “Well, now, that depends on how well you perform in these tasks,” said Markus, a secretive smile on his face.

  Alexa stared at the glowing green sword and thought hard about the words Markus had said. Demons were liars and tricksters. She wouldn’t let loopholes be their downfall. But she couldn’t find any.

  “The hour grows late, and so I must ask,” said the boy demon. “Will you or won’t you participate in the Inferno Trials?”

  Alexa’s insides twisted as pure panic flooded her veins at the thought of them not being able to return home with the sword. She forced herself to stare down that fear.

  This was what she had been built for, impossible battles. But once she had the bone sword in her hand and they faced their enemies, these trials would have been worth it.

  Alexa knew Milo’s silence was because he was waiting for her to decide…

  And then Alexa said hoarsely, “I’m in. I’ll do it.”

  “Delightful,” said Markus as he turned around and crossed the chamber. Again his youthful looks betrayed nothing of the ancient demon Alexa suspected was within him. She watched him climb up the steps and sit in the large chair. His feet dangled a few inches above the platform.

  He leaned forward on his throne and said, “Let the Inferno Trials begin!” He clapped his hands once.

  The air shifted around Alexa and then an unnatural darkness fell. But then the darkness lifted just as quickly as it appeared, and before them was a pedestal made of black stone in the shape of crying mortals holding up a round platter with their bodies. And on the platter, contained in a brazier, burned a green fire. A small knife sat next to it.

  “Three drops of angel essence into the fire is required to start the trials,” said Markus casually, picking at his nails. “Proof that you are what you say you are. As I said, only angels can compete.”

  Milo moved towards the pedestal, but Alexa pulled him back forcefully.

  “I’ll do it.” And before he could stop her, Alexa grabbed the knife and slashed it across her palm. Her skin seared for a moment, and all she could think was that the pain was real, just as real as it was in the mortal world. Which could only mean that if they died in the trials… they would surely die for real.

  She raised her hand above the flames, which didn’t burn, and squeezed three drops of her essence into the flames. The flames burst into the air, rising high through the chamber, as though accepting her as a true angel.

  Alexa stepped back, her hair whipping around her violently. And through the slits of her eyes she could see the flames flicker and then go out.

  Next to the pedestal was a doorway lit in green flames. Alexa peered inside, but all she could see were shifting gray shadows and darkness beyond.

  “Can you tell us what the first trial is?” asked Alexa, trying to keep her voice even although she could feel herself shaking uncontrollably.

  “I’m sorry, but that goes against the rules. You must find out for yourselves,” said the boy demon as he leaned back on his throne.

  “Can you give us a clue?” pleaded Alexa. “Any bit of advice?”

  Markus smiled and leaned forward on his throne. “Don’t die.”

  “Well, that’s helpful,” mumbled Alexa.

  “What is it you angels say again?” said Markus, “Ah, yes. May the souls protect you.”

  Alexa pocketed the knife and looked up. Markus watched from the chair, like a king seeing his enemies being sentenced to death. When he smiled down at her, with the face of an innocent boy, she couldn’t help the chill that rippled through her.

  At that moment, she felt a hand slip around hers and turned to see a tightlipped Milo staring down at her. If he felt her shaking, he didn’t show it. Her stomach flickered as he squeezed her hand gently, and she found herself squeezing it back. She needed him with her, needed his strength. She wanted to say something, but she hardly knew what.

  With a last look at Milo’s handsome face, Alexa braced herself, and together they stepped into the flames.

  CHAPTER 20

  DARKNESS ENGULFED THEM, and they felt the sensation of hands squeezing them. Their clothes flapped around them in a strong gust of wind. Alexa didn’t let go of Milo’s hand as she walked through the flames and the darkness. His callused hand was a comfort, the only warmth in the dead realm.

  The groans and guttural grunts of demons and of the dead disappeared, replaced by the crackling flames. She had one last fleeting view of the chamber and the bone sword before the flames engulfed her. Alexa caught blurred glimpses of other chambers and rooms, which were whipped out of sight before she could get a proper look. Then the darkness lifted and the flames subsided.

  Alexa gasped. Despite her haste, her panic, her fear of what awaited her with the first task, she could not help but be intimidated by what she saw.

  They stood in a barren landscape of ash, fire, and
smoke. Again, the world was colorless. Black rivers snaked around mountains of ebony rock and out of sight. Gasping pools spilled with ash, as if the realm was vomiting the filth of its entrails upon the lands. The air was a poisonous fragrance of sulfur and spoiled meat. Stretches of barren ridges, deep hollows cut into the terrain, stood like an obscene graveyard in endless rows. Black caves spotted the mountains like open mouths ready to swallow everything into their depths.

  Alexa felt as though she was staring at the surface of some alien world. But there was something else. Something cold and heavy lay around her neck that had nothing to do with her embarrassment.

  She reached up and her fingers found something solid, smooth, and ice-cold. It was circular, and went all around her neck like a—

  “Milo,” she said and looked up at him, “what do I have around my—”

  Milo’s chin reflected an emerald green glow from around his neck. “A collar,” he answered, “and from your expression, I gather I have one too.” He raised his fingers to his collar, his face a curious mix of resentment and fear.

  “We have collars?” repeated Alexa, her voice rising with fear. “What do you mean we have collars!”

  “We have collars.”

  “I know we have collars!” shouted Alexa, her fear replaced by rage. “Why would the archangels put collars on their own angels? It doesn’t make sense. What kind of trial is this? It’s like we’re already condemned to fail—like we’re already prisoners.” Alexa pulled at the collar, feeling a sudden suffocating sensation. She ran her fingers all the way around. “I can’t feel a clasp. There’s no end or beginning.”

  “A perfect ring.” Milo’s eyes flicked uneasily over Alexa’s face. He was just as confused as she was.

  Alexa gritted her teeth and pulled again. “Aren’t we on the same side? They’re treating us like… like slaves, like we belong to them, like we’re their property.” More their servants than their warriors, Markus had said, and Alexa was beginning to believe it. The words sounded bitter in her mind, and a new hatred for the Legion started to build in the pit of her soul.

  “I don’t know, Alexa,” said Milo, his eyes on Alexa’s collar, “but for whatever reason we have them. They seem to be of the same metal as the bone sword. They must be connected somehow.”

  “I don’t care what it’s made off. I just want it off!” said Alexa as she pulled with all her strength. “Can you get it off me? Get it off me!” Alexa struggled with her collar, but her fingers kept slipping off. She couldn’t really get a good grip on it.

  “Alexa, stop.” Milo pulled her hand away. “Just relax before you hurt yourself. You can’t afford to work yourself into a frenzy right now. You need to preserve your energy for the trials. If these collars were supposed to inflict pain, I think we would have felt something from them by now. And I don’t think anything we do will get them off either. I think they’ll come off after we complete the trials.”

  “I’m so mad at the Legion right now. I don’t even know what to say,” said Alexa, but she dropped her hands to her sides. “They’d have known that putting these things on us would make us angry, that it would have affected us in some way. So why do it? Why start a trial with your champions uptight? It’s like they wanted us to feel this way—confused and distracted. It’s wrong. It’s disturbing. I think I’ll have a real conversation with the archangels when this is over.” She paused. Then she tried and failed to control the emotion in her voice when she added, “Which is why Sabrielle never told us the whole truth about this place. She knew if we knew about the trials, the collars, we’d never agree to it.”

  “Are you sure about that?” said Milo. “You were pretty determined. I don’t think anything that anyone said to you would have made your change your mind. You’re as stubborn as they come, Alexa Dawson.”

  Alexa pursed her lips. “Yeah. You’re right.” She closed her eyes and rubbed them for a moment. “This is so crazy.”

  “There’s something else,” said Milo, his voice sounding hoarse.

  “Great. This just keeps getting better and better. What is it?”

  “I feel…” began Milo. A look of confusion crossed his features. “I feel a little weaker, more tired, I think. Like I’ve used up part of my energy already, without doing anything.”

  Just as the words escaped Milo’s lips, Alexa sensed a tiredness in her limbs, as though she was recuperating from a long journey and wasn’t well rested. It was as though her energy was being drained out of her slowly, deliberately. And just as she thought it, she felt a tug around her neck, around her collar.

  “It’s the collars,” she said, her anger bubbling. “They’re draining our energy on purpose. It’s like they don’t want us to pass these tests. I never thought the Legion were a bunch of cheats.”

  “They’re not,” dismissed Milo. “They wouldn’t do this.”

  “Yeah, well, they did—they have,” snapped Alexa. “They’re doing it right now.”

  “How much time do we have?” inquired Milo, as though he were trying to change the subject of the collars.

  Alexa glanced at her watch. “We have about three hours left, which means an hour for each trial. Any ideas what the first trial will be?”

  “None, you?”

  “Something bad, probably majestically bad.”

  As though in answer, a hoarse cawing reached her ears, like the sound of angry crows. Alexa turned towards the sound, the wind whipping around her as she brushed the hair from her eyes.

  A mass of winged creatures watched with hungry, black eyes from the mountain tops and then pitched themselves into steep, silent dives. Wings tucked back for speed, they plummeted towards their prey.

  Large wings spread from their backs. Against the failing light, Alexa could see the veins pulsing through the thin membranes. Their heads were flat, as though they’d been bludgeoned by a giant hammer. They opened their maws and screeched, revealing hundreds of sharp fish-like teeth.

  “Milo,” she breathed, keeping her voice low, “we’ve got company.”

  Milo followed her gaze and cursed loudly. “Hellwings.”

  “Hellwings? What the hell are hellwings?”

  “Exactly what they sound like,” he answered. “They’re the guardians of purgatory. They’re skilled hunters, expert trackers and killers. They make sure no souls ever get out. Think of them like killer guard dogs with wings.”

  Before Alexa could let her fear settle in, a disharmony of grunts and shuffling came from behind them. She whirled around, but her scream caught in her throat.

  There was an army of the dead.

  Slowly the mass moved, lifting clumsy legs and swinging them forward, resting for a moment, and then swinging the others a little past the first. They shuffled and waded through a thick carpet of ash with a lumbering, rolling motion that made an eerie, scuffling noise above the whistling winds.

  Some of the creatures were clothed and had strings of flesh hanging on decaying bones, while others were nothing but scrambling skeletons. A gust of wind brought forth a smell far worse than anything Alexa had ever came across—a mixture of rotten flesh, feces, and blood. It hit her like a slap in the face, and for a moment, she’d forgotten about the winged demons. There was only this army of the dead.

  “The dead are coming,” said Alexa nervously, “dead things, hundreds of them.”

  “Alexa… I think we have a bigger problem.”

  Alexa turned her head against the wind to look at Milo. “What could be worse than a hundred winged demons and an army of the dead?”

  With a troubled expression he said, “My spirit sabers are gone.”

  Instinctively, Alexa moved her hand to her waist and her fingers brushed her weapons belt. It was empty.

  “My soul blade’s gone too. They took our weapons.” Alexa felt the clutch of fear as she saw the winged demons descending upon them at great speed. They had nothing to defend themselves with.

  Something tugged at Alexa’s body, around her neck, and
she felt a drop of her energy escape, like a drop of water leaking from a pierced pipe. A slight feeling of nausea rose in her as a wave of ice rushed over her already-chilled body.

  Her collar was draining her life’s energy away.

  Clutching her hands into fists, Alexa heard the moans and thrashing of the dead as they slowly drew closer.

  And then wings and fur and teeth came charging.

  CHAPTER 21

  “COME ON! THIS WAY!”

  Milo grabbed Alexa’s arm and pulled her into a run. Together they rocketed towards the only clear path away from the winged demons and the army of the dead, following the black river. The strong winds pushed against them, and Alexa kicked off hard with her legs to keep from slowing down. The fear of what was behind them propelled her forward with a new sense of strength.

  Alexa clenched her teeth to keep from screaming. She swore to herself if she lived to see Sabrielle again, she’d punch the smile off the archangel’s face.

  “Where are we going?” Alexa shouted as she jumped over a black boulder that could slice a person in half.

  “No idea,” came Milo’s voice ahead of her. “I thought running was the best option until we figure out what to do.”

  “We can’t run forever,” yelled Alexa over the roaring winds. “Sooner or later we’re going to have to stop and face them.”

  “I know that,” yelled Milo, “but how do you plan on doing that? We don’t have any weapons.”

  Alexa hurtled over some rocks and cursed Sabrielle again. “I don’t understand how this could be the first task. Did they expect us to fight these demons with our bare hands?”

  “Looks like it.”

  “Salt would work,” said Alexa, remembering how she’d vanquished her very first demon without a blade. “If we could find some.”

  “I think we would be more likely to find water than salt here,” shouted Milo as he put on speed.

  Alexa ran forward to catch up. “So what happens—”

  By the time Alexa heard the beating of wings, it was already too late.