There was one structure even more impressive than the wall or the tallest of the towers. An aqueduct spanned the chamber, supported at its tallest point by hundreds of arches, each set in at least a dozen layers on top of each other. Slowly the structure descended, sloping down at an almost imperceptible angle as it crossed the chamber and passed over and through the city until it was only one arch level high where it disappeared from view.
For a second, Arturus dared hope that there were people living behind those walls, but his hopes were crushed almost as soon as he’d formed them. Moving along the top of one of those tremendous edifices was a dyitzu. There were a few more traveling amongst the stalagmites.
“What is this place?” Arturus asked.
“It was called Londinium,” Galen’s deep voice answered, “but now it is infested by devils. Don’t go near those walls, son. Inside an Archdevil has taken up residence.”
“But people did live here?” Arturus asked.
“Yes. And they were happy for a time, before Hell reclaimed it.”
“How? How did they lose? How could they let the devils take a place like this?”
Galen only shrugged. “Civilizations fall sometimes. Usually it happens from the inside first. Men care about silly rules that have nothing to do with surviving. They confuse the importance of those with the ones that really matter. Sometimes the devils are just finishing them off.”
“Are there any places like this now, where men live?”
“No, son. The men of this day are no longer able to build and defend things like this.”
Arturus could not help but wonder what it would be like if this city could again be settled by men. There would be no Fore, no starving masses. All would be fed. People would find some shelter from their damnation. They would never let it fall again. Never. Not to an Archdevil, not even to Satan himself should he come to call. Arturus no longer felt tired. The fire of the idea caught in his mind, and the breath in his lungs seemed charged with electricity.
“Remember,” Galen said, “stay in the shadows. That way you can see them, and they can’t see you. If they come, or do somehow manage to spot you, don’t try and fight. Come get us. We may have to retreat back down the chute.”
“We have to retake it,” he told his father.
Galen grunted. “Someday, son. Maybe someday.”
But that day might not ever come, Arturus realized, and if it did, it would be long after the Carrion had claimed all of their lives.
He tore his eyes away from the city. “We’re going to die, aren’t we?”
“We won’t last much longer,” Galen admitted. “Avery’s ankle is swelling. Kelly’s ribs can’t heal. Aaron’s feet are getting worse. But we don’t have to last much longer. You see that ridge, along the edge of the chamber?”
Arturus looked to where his father was pointing. “Yes.”
“We’ll travel that, crawling if we have to, tomorrow. From there we will not be far from where Calimay stays. If we can heal, if we can find weapons, if we can find a guide, then we can find a way out.”
Arturus nodded. “You could make it out without seeing Calimay, couldn’t you, without us.”
Galen shook his head. “Not an option.”
“Could we, you and I?”
“Maybe, but that doesn’t much matter, Turi. I cannot go back before I go deeper. Before I see this force that is pushing Maab. This force made of men and devils who work together.”
“Why? Why do you have to learn about these forces? How can they possibly matter that much?”
Galen did not answer his questions. “Don’t drift off to sleep,” Galen said after a long moment. “Come get us at the first sign of trouble.”
And without waiting for an answer, he disappeared back into the cave.
“It’s me,” Kelly said.
The priestess entered Arturus’ cavern and sat down next to him. She gazed out onto the city.
“You should be sleeping,” Arturus told her.
“Can’t. The pain in my chest is too much.”
Arturus nodded.
Her black eyes sparkled in the purple light of the chamber beyond. She drank in the sight of the city, but she wasn’t surprised to see it. Arturus guessed that she must have been to this place before. He was struck by how beautiful she was. Her skin was so pale, and her hair so dark. If there were any imperfections on her face, they were hidden by the soft light. Her lips were thin, cruel, and just slightly parted. Her cheekbones were sharp, her face angular. She was beautiful in a way that Arturus had never seen in a woman from Harpsborough.
She met his eyes and then reached out, touching his arm. She leaned forward so that she was close to him. Memories of kissing Maab suddenly flashed through his mind.
“Calimay will have no reason to want to help us,” she whispered, “and your father has nothing she wants. Galen is a fool if he thinks she no longer keeps males as slaves simply because she has distanced herself from Maab. It is very likely that I will be useful to her, and she may even accept me as her own. When that happens, Turi, try to be mine. You have been sweet to me where your friends have not. If you become my slave, I will take good care of you.”
Arturus could not understand why, but his heart was beating quickly in his chest. Just the slightest bit of color was in her cheeks. Her pupils were so dilated that he could hardly see their irises. His own breathing became short.
“Thank you,” he said. “I will try.”
Her cruel lips formed a soft, warm smile. Then she stood and walked back into the caves.
He watched her go.
Ellen sat uncomfortably at the kitchen table, taking stock of her two surprise visitors. In her experience, Rick had never had a guest over—other than herself of course. What made it all the more awkward was that Rick wasn’t here to entertain them. She would have felt somewhat guilty letting just Alice into their home, but Massan, the dark and hairy Middle Eastern man who sat across from her, seemed to be the leader of the pair.
That is one fierce unibrow.
His eyebrows, or eyebrow, might have actually been thicker where they met over the bridge of his nose.
For her part, Alice seemed calm and collected. She had her hair down, and was absently running her fingers through it, clearing it of tangles.
I should get them something. Not food. That would set a bad precedent. Rick would be mad.
“Water?” Ellen asked.
“Please,” Alice answered.
“If you wouldn’t mind,” Massan’s deep voice intoned.
She smiled, getting up from the table. The scoot of her chair against the stone seemed unnaturally loud for some reason. She walked over to their supply closet and got a trio of cups.
“Rick,” Rick announced his presence from outside.
She heard the crunch of footsteps on gravel. Smiling, she grabbed a fourth cup.
“Ellen,” she called back, and then—because Massan and Alice didn’t seem too keen on announcing themselves—she added, “Alice and Massan are here too.”
The pair stood as Rick entered. Rick smiled and shook their hands. Neither of them would meet his eyes, however.
Are they guilty? Are they here to beg for food?
“Alice,” Rick said, smiling. “Good to see you. You should see what Ellen has done with the Dreamcatcher. She’s posted it up right over her bed. And Massan, always a pleasure.”
“Thank you for having me in your home,” Massan said.
There was an odd silence. Ellen interrupted it by passing out the glasses of water. Alice’s stomach grumbled as she took a sip.
“Sorry,” she mumbled, looking down at the table.
“I’ll get you some food,” Rick said.
“No.” Alice shook her head. “I’m not here to be a charity case.”
Massan let out a little high pitched laugh which seemed almost feminine. “That she is not. But I am.”
“You need food?” Ellen asked.
Massan gave the laugh aga
in. “If only I was asking for something as simple as that.”
Rick pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. “What do you need?”
“I haven’t been the most helpful to you,” Massan said, “that I admit. I have driven many a hard bargain, and at times when all has not been well, I’ve asked for a charity pound of dyitzu for a trade.”
Rick stopped him by leaning forward. “Don’t pretend you haven’t been a friend to us. I’ve seen how carefully you let your scales slack until you feel you’ve paid us back the pound. You’ve kept secrets for us as well, and we’ve kept secrets for you.”
Massan nodded. “Thank you. But don’t let this obligate you. What I ask for, well, I will not be sorry one bit if you say no.”
“What do you need?”
“Remember when I got lost, years ago, and found myself up near Macon’s Bend?”
“Yes.”
“I was actually even farther than that. I was at Tucumcari. You know the place?”
Rick’s eyes narrowed. Ellen didn’t know what was going on, or where this place was, but this was a very serious conversation.
“I know it.”
“Do you know the way?”
Rick’s eyes narrowed farther. He took a long drink from his cup and then looked at the ceiling. “It has been nearly a decade since I’ve traveled that far, when Arturus was still very young. But yes, I could get you there. Near there. In those days it wasn’t called Tucumcari, but it was in about the same spot.”
“Are you willing, then?” Alice asked, suddenly eager.
Ellen looked at Rick. One could usually tell almost exactly what he was thinking from his expression. Not so now. Now he might as well have been Galen.
“That depends. Why do you wish to go?”
Massan turned to Alice. “Go on.”
“I’ll be right back,” the girl said.
She trotted out of the room, her footsteps spilling gravel out of the hallways.
“I’m going to have to sweep that up,” Ellen muttered to herself.
“Karma,” Rick joked, but she couldn’t understand what he meant by it.
Massan didn’t either.
“I find it difficult to guess why you would want to go so far out,” Rick said. “I know things were bad in the village, but I didn’t think they were that bad. Is Kara wanting to go, too?”
Massan shook his head. “No. She will stay. And I have every need to return. I am not fleeing Harpsborough.”
“Why then?” Rick asked.
“You know, sometimes I joke about how bad it was to be lost. To be so far away from home. I even told your son once that I would have made a deal with an Infidel Friend to get back.”
“Oh?” Rick asked.
“I wasn’t joking. I did make a deal with an Infidel Friend. And now it’s time for me to pay the Piper.”
More footsteps crunched on the gravel.
Alice.
But the footsteps seemed too loud, for some reason.
She’s brought someone.
Molly entered the kitchen. Alice came in after, standing at the doorway, watching.
Molly moved to stand beside Rick. “Please.” The girl seemed as sincere as Ellen had ever seen anyone be. “Take me to Tucumcari.”
Whatever stoicism Rick had managed to gather about his person was gone now. His jaw was agape. He looked at Massan.
Massan nodded. “She wants to get infidels. Not to hurt Harpsborough, but to help rescue Cris. You know he could hardly walk when the Fore exiled him.”
Alice stepped into the kitchen. “And they might be able to help find Aaron and Turi and Galen as well.”
“She’s right,” Molly said. “I’ve followed the Golden Door’s path. It leads into the Carrion. I love Cris. I can’t let him die.”
Ellen felt her chest swell suddenly. She looked at Rick, taking up his hand. “We have to! We have to help them!”
Rick looked again to Massan. “With the village the way it is, they won’t want anyone leaving. Might cause a panic. They’ll try and stop you. And an infidel—”
“I know you don’t hate them like the Harpsborough people do,” Massan broke in. “I know it. I know there’s more love in your heart than that. And what does it matter if you make a deal with the devil when you’re in Hell, when everything you love is out of reach? They’re not like everyone thinks, Rick. They’re not all evil. One took me home, for no reason. I didn’t have to give him anything. He just took me.”
“Pro bono,” Rick said, “like what you’re asking now.”
“Yes. But I’ll pay you back,” Massan said. “You know I’m good for it.”
Rick stood, finished his water, and put the cup back down on the table. Ellen watched him as he walked behind the cooking counter.
He rubbed at his stubble covered chin. “Leave Ellen and I for a moment, all of you.”
Molly took Alice’s hand, and the pair left the room. Massan followed them.
Rick waited until their gravel crunching footsteps faded away and moved to stand next to her. “I want to do this, but I don’t like how it might affect you.”
“Why?” Ellen asked, suddenly filled with desperation. “I’ll be fine. The journey will do me some good. Get me experience. I’ll have to—”
“It’s as safe to travel as it has ever been, Ellen. That’s not why I’m worried.”
Ellen was confused. “Why then?”
“Because you think this might get you Turi back. But it won’t. It won’t. They won’t be looking for Turi. They’ll be looking for Cris. And they’ll find him if they can, and they won’t find him if they can’t. And it doesn’t matter anyway, because we have to face the fact that Turi’s dead. We have to face it.”
Tears streamed down Ellen’s cheeks, but they weren’t tears of sorrow. Not for her sorrow, at any rate.
Rick’s not saying this to me. He’s saying it to himself.
She stood quickly and hugged Rick. She hugged him as hard as she could.
Rick broke down in her arms.
“It’s okay to have hope, sometimes,” Ellen whispered into his ear. “Galen wouldn’t be too mad. You don’t have to keep it for long. You can give it up long before Hell has a chance to take it away from you. It’ll be okay. You’ll see. We’ll promise together. We’ll only hope for a little while. Just a little while.”
Rick cried for a bit longer. Finally he straightened. “Get your things. Not everything, just what’s useful. I’ll get us some food. This will be a long journey.”
Ellen grinned, doing her best not to run as she made her way to her room. The room that had been Turi’s room. The room which she hoped would be his again.
Hope.
They would get the infidels.
Hope.
The infidels would go to find Cris.
Hope.
But they’d find Turi instead.
Drip drip. Drip drip. Drip drip.
Arturus peered into the haze. The mist hung so thickly in the halls of Hell that a dyitzu, even if it were only a few feet away, might be undetectable to his eyes. Hell’s architect had worked over most of this area, but some natural features remained. Walls made of stone bricks melded into uneven natural rock. Here and there stalactites and stalagmites jumped out at them from the mists, breaking through the floors and ceilings, sometimes meeting each other. In other places, water dripped from the stones above them.
Drip drip. Drip drip. Drip drip.
“Damn this mist,” Avery said.
“It comes from the Lethe,” Galen explained. “We are below the level of that river. There is a great lake where it pools some miles before it meets the river Erebus. These mists flow down from there.”
Galen led them up stairway after stairway. The mists lessened as they rose, but even after a few hours of travel, the haze covered the floor in opaque sheets. The half natural, half worked pattern of the stone stayed the same, though, so Arturus knew they were traveling within a vein. The intensity of the purple stone v
aried some as they moved. Galen seemed to be aiming for a bright purple, but not so bright as to be neon. The effect this purple illumination had as it coated the mists was beautiful, but frightening.
There is nothing like this back home.
Galen froze.
The rest of the hunters followed suit, but when Johnny went to draw his pistol, Galen stopped him with an upraised hand.
Aaron, who already had his rifle held at the ready, slung it behind his back.
“We seek Calimay,” Galen said to the mists. “Would you be kind enough to take us to her?”
A trio of Carrion born entered the chamber from a dark passage. Arturus hadn’t seen them or heard them at all. Two were soldiers, each armed as if Maab’s—with shotguns and pistols—but they wore grey shirts with their black pants. The woman with them was dressed like a priestess, but her robe was a deep lavender rather than the black satin Maab’s servants preferred. Her shoulders were far broader than those he’d seen on any of Maab’s priestesses, and her cheekbones were wider too.
“Why should we trust you?” the priestess asked. “How do we know you are not Maab’s spies?”
Galen shrugged. “I’ve no idea how you would make sure we’re not spies, but I can tell you how you can trust us.”
One of the soldiers raised his eyebrows.
“Oh?” asked Calimay’s priestess.
Galen handed her his Heckler and Koch. He motioned for Aaron and Johnny to do the same. Aaron complied immediately. Johnny grumbled, but did so as well. They looked to Avery, but he had no weapon at all.
“I find it hard to argue with you there,” the priestess said as she eyed Kelly. “Come. We’ll take you to Calimay. She’ll figure out if you’re spies or not . . .” She grinned wide, the purple light of the chamber glinting off of her teeth. “And if we can’t tell, we’ll still kill you.”
Knight of Gehenna (Hellsong Book 2) Page 12