by Angel Lawson
A gasp drags me from my confusion, and I glance down to see Elizabeth staring out into the field. A girl is being walked across the fake grass, then a hood yanked from her head.
I look at Elizabeth, standing next to me, and then out at the field where another version of Elizabeth has been unmasked.
“This already happened?” I ask, trying to sort the scene. Obviously it had, I was there. We all were.
Marshal’s eyes dart to the stands. He stares at himself sitting next to Roland, one of the twins snuggled up on his lap. He shifts uncomfortably and says, “This is fucked up.”
Before any of us can react, a broad-shouldered figure strides onto the field—Armin. I quickly scan the field, there are no other Immortals out there—just him.
And me.
“What’s happening? Why is it only Armin?” I continue searching. “Where are the others?”
“This must be his Limbo.” Luke’s eyes flick to me. “He must be caught in this moment.”
I’m frozen as I watch the scene unfold. Out on the field, I’m yelling at Elizabeth to get to higher ground, trying to protect her while the sharp-clawed monsters attack. I fight the creatures, blood drenched and outmatched. Beats are missed because there’s no Rupert, no Miya. The memory shifts, turning into something darker. I’m attacked, jaws tearing at my flesh, and Armin, no matter how hard he tries, he can’t get to me. I wait for the God of Death to appear, his magnificent wings spread behind him, knowing he’ll carry me off to safety, but he never arrives.
Instead the monster rips the flesh from my belly, sending blood pouring out of my side. I fall, life draining from my body. Armin howls, his anguish felt in my bones, and drops to his knees in agony. Elizabeth leans into my side, covering her face and Marshal pales.
Unlike reality, in this realm, I don’t make it out of the arena.
“But that’s not what happened?” I whisper.
“Reality is fluid here,” Luke replies. “This is Armin’s Limbo—his greatest fear to live in and out of eternity. He’s not strong enough to break free.”
“Why? How? He’s one of the strongest men I know!”
“You’re his weakness, Hildi,” Marshal says, staring ahead. “Just like Roland said you’d be.”
“No.” The word rings hollow, but I fight through it. “No. I’m the one that binds. I’m the one that balances.” I step onto the field and all three of my companions cry out for me to stop. It doesn’t matter, my feet propel me forward. I know what I have to do.
“Armin!” I shout, but his name is lost in a whirlwind of color and sound. I place my hand over my ears—it’s like I’m in the center of a building storm. Time and space shift around me, and when it slows, it’s like the clock has reset and all the pieces of the game move back to the start. Once again, Elizabeth is marched from the dungeons. Victorine announces the next challenge. The creatures are released from their cage. And Armin…well, Armin emerges from the edge of the arena, braced for a fight I already know neither of us will win.
The scene unfolds around us and I look toward Luke for help. “What do I do? How do I fix this?”
“It appears Armin’s not strong enough to break from his limbo, but it’s possible for you to help him break out.”
I nod, finally understanding what’s going on. If Armin’s biggest fear is losing me, then I have to show him that I’m alive and that all of this is one nasty mindfuck.
I race across the field, feet pounding on the fake grass. The creatures howl, bringing a physical reaction. It’s not real, it’s not real, I chant as I get closer to the cage.
Armin waves his hand, sending furballs flying. His blade cuts through the air, but he moves oddly—like he’s swimming upstream. I’ve fought beside Armin before—it’s obvious this is not a man in control of his body.
“Armin!” I cry, getting as close as I can. “Armin! Can you hear me.”
Lost in the fury of battle, he doesn’t flinch or acknowledge my call.
Blood splatters across my legs and I step over a dying creature. Again, the other Hildi is attacked and it’s surreal to be here, to watch myself fight and lose.
“Armin!” I shout, only a few feet away. I reach for him, grabbing him by the shoulder, but he shrugs me off. If he notices me—even sees me—I can’t tell. His eyes are pale, glassy, caught in this repetitive limbo. As a result, I’m lost—helpless. I glance back over my shoulder to the others on the sidelines. Marshal’s jaw is set. Elizabeth’s eyes worried. Luke’s expression grim. I’m about to give up, but feel the sudden warmth run up my arm. The ring on my finger vibrates, the purple stone flickering with light.
A memory of the dream I had with Morgan flits through my mind.
Panicked, I run my hand along the front of my vest. I pull out the pouch.
“Help!” I call to the others. “I need your help!”
That shakes them from the sidelines, and they jump into action, racing across the field.
“Hold him down!” I shout. “I need his hand.”
Confusion crosses Marshal’s face but he doesn’t question me. He lunges for Armin, ramming his body into his back. Marshal’s quick—a formidable fighter in his own right—but Armin is a beast. Where is Agis when we need him?
Gods, where is Agis?
Luke goes for his legs, managing to knock him off kilter, but he bats them both away like flies. Elizabeth waves her hands, muttering under her breath. The air shimmers around Armin and the attacking men. Before my eyes, a sliver of magic binds his hands, twisting like vines. Marshal flings himself at him, putting him in a headlock, and Luke straddles him below the knees.
“He’s strong,” Elizabeth says, “and can probably get out of those binds. Move quickly.”
I loosen the strings on the pouch and dip my fingers inside, pulling out a silver ring. All three of my allies watch me with curiosity. I climb over Armin’s waist and sit on his belly. When I reach for his hand, even though he’s bound, he resists.
“Armin, babe, I need you to stop struggling.”
He looks through me as though I’m not there.
I grapple with his fingers, which are balled in a tight fist. Like the magic here knows that if I get the ring on his finger, this will be over. It only fuels me more.
“Marshal, help,” I plead. Over his shoulder I see that Other-Hildi has been attacked in the belly. The death blow. If I don’t get this ring on now, we’ll have to start all over again. Gods, will we end up in limbo with him? Repeating this over and over again. Is this our limbo?
That jolts me into action, and I pry his fingers open. He fights against me, but I manage to slide the ring on his finger, pushing it to the hilt. A jolt runs through my body and from the shiver that runs through his, I know whatever magic Damien infused in that ring has ignited.
“Armin?” I ask. I touch his cheek. He blinks, extinguishing the glassy, pale eyes.
“Hildi?” He looks around, back at Marshal who is holding his breath. “You were…” Armin frowns in confusion. “Where are we?”
“Doesn’t matter,” I tell him, kissing the ring and then his mouth. When we pull apart, I see that the field and arena have slowly faded. The cheering crowd vanished; Other-Hildi, Other-Elizabeth, and everyone else vanishes like smoke. When I look again, it seems that unless it’s another illusion, we’re on the edge of a small village.
Behind me, Luke releases Armin’s legs, but Marshal stares down at the ring for a long moment before standing and walking away.
Elizabeth whispers a spell and the binds vanish. Armin grabs me the instant he’s freed, pulling me into his arms. “I thought—I thought—”
“I know. It’s over. I’ve got you.”
“Never let go.”
I help him from the ground, and he teeters on his feet. He’s thinner, pale, who knows the last time he had something to eat. I look at the others, who appear as tired as I feel.
“I don’t know about you,” Luke says, breaking the silence and eyeing the road that leads
to the village, “but after that, I could really use a drink.”
8
Marshal
Luke had one thing right: I definitely need a bloody drink.
We cross into the small village on the dusty road. It looks like a hundred other shitholes I’ve passed through in my lifetime. I eye the troughs with murky water outside businesses for horses and note the candlelit windows.
“What is this place?” Elizabeth asks.
“It’s kind of a weigh station,” Luke replies, nodding toward the tavern. “Kind of a no-man’s land for people traveling to rest between circles.”
“Who lives here?” Hildi asks. Her hand is linked with Armin’s. Their rings glint in the pale light. I watched her pull that ring from the pouch, hearing the slight metal clink inside. How many rings did she have? Was there one for me or had I lost the right when I betrayed her to side with Roland?
“Lesser demons loyal to my father that he has no use for. He’s aware that people traveling the circles need fuel and sleep. It’s not as much fun if his victims can’t compete adequately.”
“How thoughtful of him,” Elizabeth says, sarcasm dripping.
“No one comes through here unless they’re traveling the rings. And if you’re traveling the rings, you’re not a standard resident in Hell.” We pass a supply store, and what I assume is a brothel from the women standing up on the balcony. Up ahead is a tavern with a drunk falling off the front step. The King of Hell certainly knows how to cater to the needs of his visitors. Luke stops in front of an inn. A restaurant makes up the main floor. “We can stay here for the night.”
We cross through the threshold and I see a waitress in a tight-fitting uniform holding a pitcher of ale. She looks up as we walk in, assessing each one of us, particularly the blood on our clothes. I wink and she gives me a sly grin.
“Maybe we should stay longer than a night,” I mutter, just loud enough for the Valkyrie to hear. I’m hurt and bitter. My all-time favorite and petty way to lash out is by hurting those around me.
Luke finds a table in the corner and pulls a chair out for the Fairy. I sit, the ache of exhaustion settling in my ancient bones. How long had we been on the move? It feels like days since we went through the portal and escaped the Academy.
The waitress walks over. “You’re not from around here. You with the others?”
“Others?” I ask.
“We’ve had a bunch come through lately—caught up in the King’s fight. I thought they’d all made it through a day or so ago.”
“Yeah,” I reply, not looking at the others. “We got a late start.”
She smirks. “Well, now that you’re here, what can I get you?”
“Your strongest drink.” I reply. “Two, and whatever they want.”
“Have any food?” Luke asks, looking as tired as I feel.
“The cook here makes a hellrabbit stew. It’s passable.”
I wrinkle my nose, but Luke nods and tosses a handful of coins on the table. “Five bowls to go with five,” he looks at Hildi and Armin, “make that four rooms.”
“Send two of the bowls upstairs,” Hildi says. She’s got her arm around Armin’s waist. Whatever adrenaline kept him going in Limbo seems to be wearing off. “Armin’s fading on me.”
The waitress pulls a key out of her pocket and hands it to Hildi. “Top of the stairs, end of the hall. I’ll make sure your food gets delivered.”
“You need help getting him to your room?” Luke asks.
“I’ve got it,” I reply, standing quickly. “It’s not the first time I’ve had to carry this one off.”
I duck under Armin’s arm and brace him on my shoulder. He’s heavy as hell. “Did you even sleep while you were in that place?”
“I don’t know,” he replies, shaking his head. “My memory is foggy.”
It takes a while, but Hildi and I get him upstairs. I bear his weight as she unlocks the door. He steps inside and I grab the Valkyrie’s arm. “We need to talk.”
Her jaw sets. “Armin, go ahead and wash up. I’ll be there in a minute.” My brother gives the two of us a long look but nods. Hildi shuts the door. “What?”
With lightning speed, I dip my fingers into the pocket of her vest and pull out the pouch. I hold it to my nose and inhale. Strong magic tickles my nose. “What’s with the rings?”
She snatches the pouch back. “None of your gods-damned business.”
“Anything that happens during all of this is my business, Valkyrie, like it or not.”
“No, Marshal, it isn’t. I don’t know where your loyalties lie. Sure, you came back to find me, but you were also dying. You betrayed me—us. All of us, including Morgan and the Guardians. How dare you make demands.”
I narrow my eyes at the woman in front of me. She’s furious, letting loose on something she’s obviously wanted to say for a while. Her anger is dark—sexy. “Do you think it was easy falling in line under Roland? Could you really not see it was a ruse? Someone had to stay close to him, someone needed to be on the inside so that he didn’t let Victorine wipe us off the map.”
“You’re not that good of an actor. You’re greedy, Marshal. You want unlimited power, riches and women. You said it yourself, Roland could give you those things. The Immortals couldn’t.”
I laugh. “Gods, you’re foolish. Do you not remember when I saved you from Marielle berating you in the dormitory hallway?”
“How gracious of you, since the next thing you did was demand I clean your sex-stained sheets.”
I clench my jaw. The truth is on the tip of my tongue. Did I fuck any of the girls at the Academy while playing my game? No. I haven’t had anyone but the Valkyrie since being released from the Shaman. She’s the only one I want. The only one I desire. The thought of her body consumes and possesses me. Will I tell her that? Fuck no. Not when she’s keeping secrets from me, too.
I want to know the truth about those rings.
“If you really think so little of me, then why did you help heal me? Why do you think I’m still here?”
She eyes me warily, exhaustion evident on her gorgeous face. “I don’t know. I really don’t. There are pieces in this game that I don’t understand. You’re one of them.”
I reach out and touch her chin, feeling the zing of electricity shoot down my arm. Hildi swallows thickly, letting me know she feels it, too. Chemistry and attraction have never been our problem. Trust has always been the main issue. “Tell me one thing—is one of those rings for me?”
“It’s not for me to decide,” she replies, eyes shining. “Do you deserve one? Have you earned the right?”
To what? Wear the ring like my brother? To be bound to Hildi? I’d done her wrong by choosing Roland’s side at the Academy, even if it was for strategic reasons. Downstairs, I’d wondered how I could hurt her by flirting with the waitress. I’d let my jealousy become irrational, picking this fight with her. Do I deserve to wear one of the rings?
No.
I knew the answer. She’s right. I’m greedy. Petty. Jealous.
I’m not the kind of man Hildi needs in her life. Not now, maybe not ever.
I hold her eye, pale blue like a summer sky, then I bend, kissing her hard on the mouth. Sparks crackle between us and I wrap a hand around her waist, pulling her to me. Our tongues sweep against one another—a deep groan rumbles in my chest—and gods, I want her. I want this. I want all of it, but I release her, pushing her back against the door.
“Go take care of him,” I say, gruffly. “He needs to be ready for what lies ahead.”
I turn before she can reply, before I make this worse. Those rings—the bonds, they aren’t given lightly. They have to be earned. Agis earned his with his loyalty, to the point of near-destruction. I’m no good to the Valkyrie until I’ve proven myself.
If that’s even possible.
9
Hildi
Marshal storms off, and I make no effort to stop him. My lips burn from the kiss—my body always reacts to him. It’s
a curse, and it muddles my instincts. I know Morgan told me that he’s part of this, but I still don’t trust him.
How can I?
I enter the room and get a good look around. The space is incredibly small and feels even smaller with Armin’s massive frame stretched out on the bed. My anger soothes as I take in his bare, muscular chest. A thin sheet covers his hips, low enough for me to soak in his tight abs. Any wounds from the arena are gone—illusions from the tricks of Limbo. I feel his gaze on me as I walk to the small dresser. There, I remove the sheath strapped to my thigh and unlace my boots. There’s a basin of water on the tabletop and a bar of soap. I scrub my hands, removing the dirt and grime from the day. Or has it been days? I can’t tell. I pull the tie from my hair, letting it fall over my shoulders. I look at his reflection in the mirror, eyeing his body and his handsome face. Our eyes meet in the mottled mirror.
“What?” I ask.
“I like it when you look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you see me. The real me. You always have. In that place,” he swallows, “I couldn’t reach you no matter how hard I tried. I couldn’t get to you. I should have known it was fake because the Hildi in that arena never looked at me the way you did.”
I walk to the edge of the bed and sit. “It’s designed to confuse. The Devil isn’t stupid. He knows his victims, you know that, right?”
“I do, but I just…I didn’t know if I’d ever see you alive again.” His fingers twist in my hair. “The last time I saw you, the real you, Agis was carrying you away. There was so much blood, Hildi.”
“I know, but he got me to safety. Healed me.” He sits up, stomach muscles tensing, and he touches my cheek. I kiss his palm. “I’m okay.”
“Are we?” He grimaces. “We’ve got to get to this City of Dis, which is five circles of hell away, and our allies consist of a traitor, the half-breed son of Lucifer himself, and a fairy.”
“Hey!” I say with afront. “Leave the fairy out of this, but speaking of allies, do you know where the rest of the Legion is?”