by Dy Loveday
Oh, Jane!
Maya clutched her stomach and gasped, bending over. Tears leaked out of her eyes and dripped into the ash, turning it pewter. Her best friend was gone, and it was Maya’s fault for getting her mixed up in this nightmare. What a lousy friend she’d been.
If this was Balkaith, maybe the witches could return Jane from the afterlife? Her shoulders slumped in defeat. The idea was ridiculous, and foul too. She imagined Jane, her wide, purple mouth laughing. Tears ran down Maya’s neck and she let them fall, hunching her shoulders against the tightness in her throat.
Her soul felt thin, like the times before the bad entities struck. The thought scared her and she wiped her face on her wool coat, smearing it with a mix of tears and bloody gunk.
Tufts of gray-green grass pushed through the dirt, rustling in the humid breeze. The place smelled of exotic spices, steamy air, and the repulsive, rotten stench of some decaying animal. Shade fell across her body. A plant swayed above her at the very edge of the circle. A cluster of translucent amber rocks hugged the roots of a huge magenta flower. It twitched in the wind, roughly her height, shaped like an hourglass but with a vermilion throat filled with rows of sharp thorns. The plant stretched forward on its thin stem, and Maya flinched, automatically raising trembling hands. The plant closed its throat and opened it again, and a viscous fluid dropped on her leg.
Maya rolled away and gave the plant a wary glance. It was drooling. She pushed herself to unsteady feet and dusted her hands of the unsavory mess clinging to her palms. Horned beetles the same color as the flower crawled over the odd plant. Fat striped snakes writhed in low puddles.
Her heart beat fast as she squinted up at the extravagant moon sitting in a powder-blue sky. She dabbed her nose with her hand. It came away wet with blood, ash, and God only knew what else. She patted herself down, the movements uncertain and unsteady, her center of balance off. His smell surrounded her, and she scrubbed her mouth on one hand to remove the taste.
The irony of landing in this world without him hit, but she refused to think how he must be laughing at her.
Off to the left, a long peninsula clawed its way out into the blue-black ocean. At the end of the bluff, two white crenulated towers basked in the sun, surrounded by colossal stone walls.
Closer to where she stood, the headland curved and rose sharply. A coal-black promontory fort lay around seven or eight hundred feet above, facing the sea. To the far right two more towers—black this time—marked the end of the castle walls. Her head spun with vertigo and she swayed, almost spilling back into the ash.
Craning her neck, she followed the sheer rock formation that continued beyond the fort until it disappeared into white cirrus clouds far above.
“Well,” she said softly. She held her hand on her chest, suddenly fearful the whole lot would come crumbling down on her head.
Strange birds screamed far off, a lonely sound. The smell of brine and seaweed flooded her lungs and she shuffled outside the circle, looking for a path and, even though she didn’t want to admit it, for Resh.
She frowned. Where was he?
“He saved you from the Khereb and bought a truckload of trouble for bringing you back. Look what you’ve done in return,” a small voice said.
“He’ll be fine. The asshole can survive anything,” she retorted.
“What about the poison in him?”
Damn, her conscience was pissing her off. Except it wasn’t her voice. Something black fluttered just out of her field of vision and she jumped in shock.
“Pia?”
The raven flapped its wings and tried to alight on her shoulder.
“No. Gaai. You’re a foul-mouthed creature. If I hadn’t found you in the Abyss, you’d still be there,” the raven said in a high-pitched, throaty voice and dropped to the ground near Maya’s feet. It hopped once, scrambling over rocks, heading for the flower. The raven jumped on the crystal and cawed, fluffing its throat feathers so they looked long and spiky.
Maya’s shut her mouth with a click of teeth. “I didn’t know you could talk.”
“Earth’s powers are diluted from the wars. We couldn’t talk in that atrocious pigsty.” The bird dodged the snapping plant and whipped its head around, ducking its sharp beak down the flower’s throat. With an ugly squeal, some horrid pink flesh ripped free. The raven tossed it back as if it were a tasty hors d’oeuvre.
The plant trembled and gnashed saw-like teeth.
Maya recoiled in distaste. If possible, the smell worsened. “Where’s Resh?”
“Where you left him. In the Abyss. You need to find Alexandr, and fast. The Tribune must bring Resheph back and the poison gives them little time.” The bird stared at her, unblinking, and skipped over the stabbing plant without glancing in its direction.
“I had no idea … damn him. If he’s such a hero, why can’t he find his own way back?” But the words sounded flat and hollow. “Is Alexandr up there?” She gestured with her head to the fort.
The bird nodded at an overgrown trail, no wider than Maya’s shoulders. “Get ready for a climb.”
“Isn’t there another way?” She pulled off her coat and stuffed in into her bag.
“The arch-warlocks don’t leave the fortress. We’re outside the towers. You’ll have to climb part of the way.”
“Right.” But her voice broke, ending on an off-key note, sounding lost in her own ears. She looked up at the thin, black path weaving up the rock face. The coppery taste of blood sat on her tongue, and her head felt gripped hard by a too-tight rubber band. She hated heights.
* * * *
The narrow path coiled like a snake up the hillside. In some areas Maya and Gaai had to scramble and grip rock to avoid tumbling back to the plateau. The raven used his wings in the most difficult places, keeping pace with Maya. She fought a persistent urge to look down, frightened vertigo would alter her perspective and she’d fall and die.
She focused on the trail, ignoring the knowledge that a careless error would send her tumbling down the steep slope. The sun moved to a high point in the sky, beating down on her head and casting spots before her eyes. Every now and then she took a small sip of water from her backpack.
And kept climbing.
Her T-shirt rode up her back, soaking up the sweat, but more dripped down her face and stung her eyes. Her feet squelched in the heavy boots, her jeans had rubbed her legs raw. The path came to an abrupt end at a narrow ledge.
Maya puffed hard, searching for the place where the path continued. The ledge jutted out of the mountain, the width of her body, surrounded by sheer rock face.
“You can wait here,” said Gaai as he flew onto the ledge.
Maya hauled herself up with a grunt of exertion and sat cross-legged, panting, her back against the cool rock. Pulling off her backpack, she tossed it down within easy reach. She had the urge to throw her arms against the cliff and cling like Velcro, but she might never let go.
“What’s next?” she asked, trying to catch her breath. A salty breeze brought welcome relief to her hot cheeks.
“I’ll be back soon.” The bird hopped along the smooth surface of the ledge.
Maya stared at him. “How long?”
He tossed his head back, indicating the fortress and flew off.
She sighed and settled back against the ridge. The entire coast unfolded before her eyes. Giant waves rolled in, crashing inexorably against boulders, spraying water high. The incline looked sickeningly sheer and she pulled her gaze away, sinking back against the solid wall with a hollow stomach.
A gust of wind flattened her hair back from her face as she settled in for God only knew how long. Ominous purple-gray clouds crept into view. A few drops of rain spat on her head. Her hands burned, ripped raw under all the dirt and ash, while blood and sweat stuck to her clothes and face. She sagged against the wall, tilting her head to stare at the clouds.
She gradually unclenched her fingers. Right now she’d do just about anything to get off this aerie. She wor
ried her thumb with her teeth. Perhaps she’d judged Resh harshly. People did the weirdest things under pressure, things they never thought they’d do.
He hadn’t told her the truth, sure but he’d had a task to do and he’d changed his mind once he’d met her. She, on the other hand, had rifled through his thoughts like a snoop reading someone’s diary.
Her heart pounded in her chest. It was awful to admit, but maybe she had a little problem with spells. His magic had offered a terrible temptation, like the best of relaxation charms. She’d wanted more of his power and pulled as hard as she could to get it.
Her mother’s low-pitched voice rang in her head, “Take the spell. It’s easier that way.”
Dark shapes skittered across the ground and the air wavered. Her mind pulled away from her body, an observer.
If a hallucination hit up here, she’d die. Grasping her backpack with urgent hands, she tore it open.
Her fingertips settled on hard glass.
There was one spell left.
* * * *
Fluorescent blue stars sparkled in the distance, twirling and spinning incessantly. Resheph tumbled through the void, weightless in a realm without gravity. Pia drifted with him through the dense blackness, unable to join with him without a material body.
Maya had tossed him from the union like refuse. Worse, she shouldn’t have had the power to break the spell. Would she know what to do when she arrived? Gods forbid, if she confessed what she’d done, the Tribune would lock her up and throw away the key.
The force of her expulsion had ripped through him like fire. He hoped to find her safe and sound so he could wring her bloody neck for endangering them both.
He hadn’t had enough magic to transmute them both across the Abyss, so he’d tangled their souls instead. She had more power than he’d expected, forcing her way in his mind with ease. He’d underestimated her; one mistake after the other, piling up on each other.
“So, what have we here?” a gravelly voice asked.
The sound cut through Resheph’s soul as if it had been doused with a high concentration of acid.
“A warrior, of the Enim Empire. Lacking good fortune and in need of assistance,” Resheph said, considering his next move.
The spirit chuckled, but it sounded cold and smug. Its form coalesced and a smoky luminescent shape appeared. A well-formed naked man leaned indolently against a high-backed chair, one hooked finger raised, pointing at Resheph. Revealed by a glowing light, his golden hair and jade eyes gave him an angelic look. The spirit grinned, showing sharp teeth that spread a chill of icy warning down Resheph’s spine. The spirit stood close enough for Resheph to feel cool air coming off its body.
Wisps of vapor uncurled, swirling from its hand. The cloud took the shape of a serpent and homed in on Resheph. He flinched, throwing his weight back, but the smoke followed, sticking to his body. The substance cascaded into his mouth and nose, bringing with it the taste of decay. Metal hooks embedded deep into muscle and he howled. With gritted teeth, he flung himself back, fighting the shackles.
“Your poor fortune is my advantage,” it said softly. “The scent of your soul is most distracting.” The spirit’s lower abdomen flushed a deep red. It opened its mouth, showing several layers of bloodred teeth, and sucked in a deep breath, dragging Resheph closer.
The creature threw its head back, laughing. Its jaw hinged open, showing a bifurcated tongue and fleshy maggots wriggling in a contrast of alabaster on red.
Resheph writhed. Of all the gods in the Abyss, he had to come across one such as this. Groping in his mind, he tried to catch a spool of magic and stream power into a spell.
He erected mental barriers, building a wall of magic. The creature lifted its hand, blowing another cloud of vapor into his face. Arctic cold thundered into Resheph’s skull. Something snapped in his head and agony raced through him, numbing his reactions. He gritted his teeth as his powers surged then raced away, drawn in lines of fast voltage strikes toward the creature.
The spirit’s eyes narrowed and it gestured. “Oixifed, I bind you, warrior. Your spirit and soul are mine.”
The spirit’s voice reverberated in Resheph’s brain, overflowed his thoughts. He bellowed a repelling curse.
The spirit laughed. “You may call me Agares, ruler of the eastern zone.” Agares’ voice changed, becoming guttural. He morphed into a pale old man with greasy long hair, sitting on a gnarled crocodile. A hawk sat on his wrist. The hawk tore at Pia’s feathers, ripping into her flesh. The bird screamed. “I am he who is clothed in the body of others’ flesh, governor of submission and madness. Fall before me in adoration.” Agares’ pupils glittered.
Resheph fought off the gorge rising in his throat.
“What use am I to you, demon? You already have my magic. There is nothing left to take,” Resheph said.
Agares threw his head back and laughed again. “Why, your suffering gives me pleasure. You’ll find I can be quite inventive with your soul. Perhaps I’ll find a way to bring your physical self across. How tidy that would be. Your gods have abandoned you. You’re being punished for calling a guardian to the Earth realm.” Agares sniggered. “Your powers are my reward for finding you first.” He brushed his hand across Resheph’s cheek in a loving gesture.
Resheph’s muscles jerked and a spasm shook him. Inside his mind, emptiness existed where magic had once been. He clenched his muscles, reducing the shudders to convulsive twitches. Thank the gods. His body would soon appear in Balkaith, an empty shell.
“What is it you want for returning the raven to Balkaith?” Resheph panted, knowing he debased himself by begging.
There was a snap of lightning. A sheet of yellow parchment appeared before Agares. Complex magical symbols and red Latin script written backward danced across the page.
Agares raised a dirt-brown fingernail to his lip. “Master wants you.” He morphed into a dark-skinned skeletal beast with prominent black wings, red eyes, and a narrow doglike head. He gestured to the yellowed parchment. “The seal of Molokh, written in blood. Our lord offers a pact. You have something he wants.”
Agares yanked Resheph’s unresisting soul toward one of the twirling lights. He would have fought if he could. Pia’s eyes were open, staring at nothing. She no longer moved or resisted. Her head flopped in Agares’ claws. Neither Alexandr nor the Tribune could save them from this. Only Besmelo could intervene, and as Agares said, he’d defied the gods’ law back in Maya’s apartment.
“Come, my love. Off to the kingdom of Molokh, realm of splendid twilight.” Agares licked his lips with obvious delight, jerking Resheph along like a mutt on a lead. “Perhaps our lord will let me have leftovers.”
“Vade retro, Agares,” muttered Resheph, trying another spell.
Agares laughed, and they flew toward four mighty pillars, two white and two black.
Resheph’s thoughts turned dark and cold.
If he had to deal with Molokh and wager his soul, he’d ensure the demon regretted it. He’d settle the score before he descended into madness.
Chapter 10
Disintegrating
Maya’s short nails tapped a staccato on the ledge. Rain splattered in shallow puddles across the hillside. The rock shelf leaned on a slight angle, causing water to trickle in thin rivulets off the lip and flow down the slope.
She draped her jacket over her head and pushed her back into a slight depression in the wall.
The wind picked up, howling with a low moan. Maya McAdam.
She shivered, wrapping the jacket over her head like a cowl and gripping her elbows. The sky darkened as the sun moved behind scuttling clouds and fingers of black shadow clawed over the cliff, grouping at her feet as if the ledge was the last piece of resistance in a world gone bad. Goose bumps ran up her arms.
The shadows coalesced and the image of spidery figures formed inside.
Come. Join us, they whispered, low and humming.
Maya groped for the spellbox and she flicked it open, sta
ring at the coiling mass at her feet, sure if she took her eyes off it, the vision would reach forward and take her. Rage boiled so fast it blindsided her. Rage they’d followed her here, rage against her mother for drugging her when she was too young to protect herself, rage with herself for taking spells.
A hard little tab pressed into her finger and thumb, and she lifted it slowly, pushing the pill between cracked lips and swallowing.
The shadows were so close she could see the creatures’ heads arched back, their thin arms thrown wide as they swayed and swirled. One spidery hand reached forward and imprisoned her boot, giving it a solid tug. Her backside shifted on the ledge, sliding inexorably toward the edge of the cliff, and she lashed out viciously with her other foot, pressing into a marshy mixture that smelled of wet earth.
Jump. We’ll catch you. The shadow oozed closer.
She opened her mouth and screamed in fury, trammeling the ledge with hands, both feet caught in the mess, while the taste of decaying leaves hit the back of her throat and dirt ground between her back teeth. The shadows trembled, rocking and increasing in tempo and the ledge creaked, an awful grating sound. She bellowed out a hot stew of words.
Her shoulder blades ground against the rock wall, and then there was nothing there. She fell backward into empty space, charms tumbling over her head as she landed on her back with an umph in a cavern hiding inside the mountain. Her head thumped against cold stone and the wind spewed out of her lungs in one long cough.
She sucked in a gasp. “God,” she wheezed. The wind whistled past her ears, rushing past her face into dark tunnels. A door slammed somewhere far above. She had a quick impression of several pairs of long legs standing beside her body. The back of her neck broke out in cold sweat and she braced herself for Balkaith’s warlocks.
The vision didn’t back down. Black fingers clutched the roof of the cave. Geometric shadows slipped like a stream over the cavern ceiling. Except they didn’t just stay there; they rushed at her. Several circled like vultures and one dived low with a grapnel hook. She ducked, throwing her arm up to protect herself, and the chain whipped past her ear.