“What’s ever enough? In for a dime, in for a dollar,” said Spyder.
“Does that attitude make you a hero or a fool, I wonder.”
“They’re the same thing. Fools get themselves cornered. Heroes are just the fools who get out of it.”
Count Non nodded. “Being a fool might just be your greatest strength. A fool can do what a wise man won’t,” he said, and shifted his pack from on shoulder to the other. “In the Tarot deck, the Fool is depicted as a young man about to step off a cliff into empty air. Most people assume that the Fool will fall. But we don’t see it happen, and a Fool doesn’t know that he’s subject to the laws of gravity. Against all odds, he just might float.”
“If fucking up is power, I should be the Hulk by now,” said Spyder. He took a breath. “Goddamn. I’m going in. I told myself I wasn’t. I’ve been sort of turning it over in my mind this whole time.”
“Thinking goes against the fool’s strengths. Just do what you have to do.”
“Truth is, I kind of always knew I was going, from the first time Cinders bought it up. But I couldn’t admit it,” Spyder said, spinning the Hornet from side to side. “There’s an old Buddhist saying that whenever you ask a question, you already know the answer.”
“I’m glad to hear you bring up the Buddha,” Count Non said. “All that medieval Christianity that informs your descriptions of Hell had me worried. We can learn a lot from the Buddha. In Hell, you’ll be all right if you remember his most basic advice: follow the Middle Way.”
“All the books say that Hell’s a naked roller derby on broken glass. It’s nothing but extremes. Think there’s a Middle Way down there?”
“If you’re on fire, do you jump into the pool of water or the pool of gasoline? Even in the most extreme circumstances there’s a choice.”
“I wish I could see the place. Being blindfolded the whole time sounds like balls.”
“That’s the first choice you have to make. Is seeing Hell’s décor worth being trapped for eternity?”
“I’d have to give that a big No,” said Spyder. “How about you? How do you feel about playing blind man’s bluff?”
“It’s all the same to me. This won’t be the first prison I’ve visited. I’ve been locked away in dark places. After a while, the darkness becomes a comfort and light is the stranger.”
“You’ve been there, haven’t you? Hell, I mean. You’re dancing around the subject, but I have this feeling.”
“My people have done business there.”
“What kind of business?”
“It varied. I’m not proud of much of it.”
“Why didn’t you say anything when I was wanking on about it? If you know the place better than me, why didn’t you speak up?”
“You were doing a fine job. I didn’t see any reason to interrupt.”
“Is there something you can tell me that I should know? Anything that can help us?”
“That’s not permitted,” Count Non said.
“What does that mean?”
“Hell is a place of extremes, yes, but extremes are relative. What’s extreme for Spyder isn’t extreme for me. Shrike’s extreme isn’t Primo’s or Lulu’s. The details of Hell are different for everyone. Telling you about my dealings wouldn’t do you any good and might just confuse you. I wouldn’t want to be the cause of you getting hurt. Or worse.”
“You’re killing me with tender mercies. There’s nothing you have that can help us?”
The Count sighed. “I’ve been talking about it this whole trip, trying to prepare you. You’re as ready as you’re going to be. Remember the Buddha’s advice. And don’t ever lose heart. Hell is designed to drain lost souls of hope. Don’t let that happen. We’ve already agreed that you’re a fool and so far, despite a few bruises, you’ve been lucky. That’s halfway to a hero. No matter what happens, what you see or hear or experience, be the fool that lives. That’s my best advice.”
“I was hoping for a magic helmet or something.”
“Don’t be afraid, little brother. The stars are on our side. When the moon points to the hellmouth, the underworld’s defenses are down and all the gates are open. ‘In that day the Lord with his sore and great and strong sword shall punish Leviathan; and he shall slay the dragon that is in the sea.’”
“You can talk some shit, Count.”
Count Non tossed a stone straight into the air. As it arced down, Spyder tilted up the Hornet and ripped the stone to powder.
“There’s airships over us,” said Spyder.
“Angels, too,” the Count said. “To the west.”
“If your people did business with Hell, did they work for Heaven, too?”
“Of course.”
“You aren’t not on the flying monkeys side, are you?”
“You mean the Brotherhood and their angelic lapdogs? They can all kiss my ruby red arse,” said Count Non. “Would you prefer it if I was on the other side?”
“Both sides can blow me right about now,” said Spyder. “I’m just jumpy is all. That Bible talk of yours had me wondering.”
“It’s a family habit and hard to break.”
“You aren’t a preacher or something?”
“My father is.”
“I knew it.”
“When the urge hits, perhaps I should switch to Greek.”
“It couldn’t hurt.”
FORTY ONE
Vanilla Roses
“Is this the place?” asked Shrike.
“I believe so,” Primo replied.
“Believe?” Spyder asked.
“A figure of speech. This is the place.”
“What happens now?” asked Lulu.
“We wait,” said Primo, “for the moon to move across the sky and reveal the location of the entrance to Hell.”
Shrike was hunkered on the ground, her hands moving slowly across the face of the braille map. Spyder knelt down beside her. The desert night wind came in dry, frigid gusts that threatened to drag the map off into the dark.
“Does this feel right to you?” Spyder asked.
“As far as I can tell, we’re where we should be,” she said. “We’re in Primo’s hands now. Is the moon up?”
“Been up for a while. That’s what worries me. We might have missed it.”
“We still have tomorrow night.”
“We lost all our food and most of our water back at the OK Corral.”
“Then, let’s hope we still have a chance tonight.”
“Can we start a fire or something?” Lulu asked. “The wind comin’ off these hills is giving me some serious raisins.”
Count Non shook his head. “That’s not a good idea. Not with enemies overhead. They would spot even a small fire.”
Lulu shivered in her light cotton jacket. “I’m seriously dying over here.” Spyder took off his leather jacket and draped it across her shoulders.
“What about one of those caves?” asked Spyder. “We can do like the other night, start a small fire and stack some of this scrub over the entrance. Maybe cover it with our coats.”
“It’s still dangerous,” said the Count. “What do you say, Shrike?”
“If nothing else, moving around and gathering brush will warm us. Do you see anything yet, Primo?”
“No, ma’am. Whatever your decision about a fire, I’m going to stay here and watch the moon.”
While Primo and the Count kept track of the sky, the others began pulling the dry, shallow-rooted brush from the loose desert soil and piling it in a nearby cave. While Lulu and Shrike broke up some of the brushes into kindling, Spyder spread their coats over a pile of brush at the cave opening. Count Non volunteered a heavy wool cloak that he pulled from his weapons bag.
When he’d covered the entrance, Spyder slipped inside, trying not to disturb any of the brush that kept in the light. Kneeling next to Shrike and Lulu, he struck a match and lit the kindling they’d laid out. The sticks caught quickly and the little cave filled with light. The heat came up
more slowly, but in the frigid night, they felt their skin begin to warm and it felt good. Spyder leaned into Shrike as Lulu huddled up on the other side.
Lulu pulled off her blindfold. “All they can see is the fire, right?”
“Yeah. They won’t know where the fire is,” said Spyder. “We having a good time yet?” Spyder asked.
“Shit, this is better than dinner and a spanking,” said Lulu.
From outside the cave came Count Non’s voice. “Sorry to disturb you, but you should come and look at this.”
“Who should?” called Lulu.
“All of you.”
“Dammit.”
They crawled out of the cave slowly, gloomily, leaving the warmth behind. It felt even colder and more miserable now that they’d had a few minutes of comfort. The three of them remained huddled together as they went to where Primo and the Count were waiting.
Spyder followed the men’s gaze upward to the night sky. “It’s the moon,” he said. “Been there. Done that.”
“Look beyond that peak,” said Primo.
“Oh man,” Spyder said.
“What is it?” asked Shrike.
Spyder felt Lulu shiver.
“Two moons,” Spyder said. “There are two moons in the sky.”
Shrike lowered her head, but didn’t say anything.
“Who has the juice for this?” Spyder asked.
“The Brotherhood, perhaps,” said Count Non. “Perhaps the Black Clerks, though I’ve never heard of them doing anything remotely this mad before.”
“It could be a confederacy. Two or three of the groups wanting to stop us could have combined their powers,” Shrike said. “This is bad.”
“There’s something worse,” said Lulu, looking back at the cave.
Spyder turned and saw that the fire had ignited some of the brush by the entrance. The whole cave was burning like a merry beach bonfire on the Fourth of July.
“If someone’s looking for us, I think we just sent ’em a flare,” said Lulu.
“There’s something in the flames,” Primo said.
Black, moiling smoke slid from the cave, up the mountainside. But a slower, heavier smoke hung white in the air, turning in slow motion tornadoes. Things coalesced inside the spinning whirlpools, shape-angled, skeletal. A glimpse of bared teeth. A sharp arc of metal. Heavy, restless boots.
“Soldiers,” said Spyder. “Primo, that cave we want is above us, right?”
“Yes, sir. Up the mountain.”
“Maybe we should go now.”
Spyder took Shrike’s hand and they ran up a narrow switchback that cut back and forth across the face of the Kaslan mountains. Coming from far behind them, Spyder heard the clattering of metal and leather. He hoped the smoke soldiers were slow, or still smoky, so the mountain wind might blow them away. As the group ran, however, the sound of the soldiers’ weapons came closer. Shrike pulled away from Spyder and ran back down the mountain, her sword up and ready to strike. Spyder was frozen in place, his mind a blank. What was she going to do against a soldier made of smoke? But when Shrike made her first slash, Spyder saw the blood and heard a scream. He realized that while the soldiers might have come from smoke, they were now just flesh and blood. He, Primo and Count Non charged down the hill while Lulu opened up behind them with the four-ten.
Spyder sent a couple of the soldiers off the edge of the trail as they tried to avoid the spinning Hornet, while the Count gutted one, then another of the smoke soldiers. Spyder saw other soldiers forming at the foot of the mountain. While the others attacked the remaining few pursuers, Spyder grabbed Shrike.
“Do you know any magic to make the wind blow harder?” he asked.
“One spell.”
“Use it.”
Shrike got down on one knee and rolled up her sleeve. Whispering a low incantation, she pulled back the metal bird on the lancet, locking it into place. A moment later, the bird snapped down and Spyder saw blood run down Shrike’s hand. The wind kicked up at their backs, pushing them toward the edge of the cliff. Spyder grabbed Shrike and pulled her back against the mountain.
Below them, the hurricane that now blasted down from the mountain scattered the burning scrub from which the soldiers were coalescing. Half-formed soldiers splattered onto the sand, a wet corruption of skin, bone and exposed organs.
Overhead, immense, dark things blacked out parts of the sky. Search lights played across the desert floor, illuminating the underbellies of the airships. The lights pooled around the bodies of the dead soldiers near the cave.
Count Non and the others trudged up the hill into the wind, finally reaching Spyder and Shrike.
“We should keep moving.” The Count had to shout to be heard above the wind.
“Can you turn the wind off now, pretty please?” Spyder asked.
Shrike raised her hands and uttered a few words. Nothing happened. She indicated that they should start up the hill. “Sometimes it takes a few minutes,” She said. “This isn’t like turning off the TV.”
They started up and within a few minutes, the wind began to slack off. The airships kept up their search, lighting up the bodies of the slaughtered soldiers on the trail below. Looking for us among the dead, thought Spyder. He felt a surge of excitement, having come through another fight. Primo came up from the rear, still scanning the sky, trying to find some clue in the mad light and crisscrossing shadows cast by the twin moons.
“That archway in the rock above us,” he said. “I think it’s pointing to an opening in the rock face.”
“Lead the way, man,” said Spyder and slapped him on the back. Primo flinched from the blow. Spyder saw that he was holding his side. Blood stained the front of his white shirt, and oozed from between his fingers.
“You’re hurt.”
“It’s nothing,” Primo said. “We’ll be away from them soon.”
Primo went quickly up the trail, but Spyder could tell that he was more badly hurt than he was letting on. The little man constantly looked northward at a stone archway in the rocks above. In the crazy mix of shadows, Spyder couldn’t really see what had Primo so excited.
Thunder rumbled behind them, then lightning. The ground shook. Heat and a wave of static bristled over their skin. Spyder could tell that it wasn’t thunder in the sky, but more of the light weapons he’d seen back in the airship battle. Rocks tumbled down at them as searing white bolts blasted into the mountain. They pressed themselves as close as possible to the rock face and kept moving. Looking up, Spyder thought he saw angels circling the mountain top, high above.
“There!” yelled Primo, between thunderclaps. The mountain rumbled up through their legs. “I need to climb. Please give me a leg up.”
Spyder still couldn’t see where Primo wanted to go, but he crouched by the little man’s leg to give him a boost. Primo took a breath. His remaining hand was bloody and his balance was a little shaky. Holding on to Primo’s shoulder, Count Non steadied him enough to step onto Spyder’s hands and begin the climb.
He must have cat eyes, thought Spyder. Using his one arm, the little man climbed steadily up the rocks, reaching a deep, recessed shadow just a few yards above their heads. “We would have walked right passed it,” Spyder said to himself. The ground shook and rocks came down, almost knocking Primo off his perch at the lip of the cave.
“This is it!” Primo called. “Climb!” The mountain trembled and Primo used his one arm to brace himself in the cave entrance. Where his bloody hand touched the mountain, the rock turned black. The blackness spread outward and around the cave like paper crisping in an invisible fire. “Hurry!” Primo shouted to them.
“Look out!” Spyder screamed.
Primo frowned, cocking his ear, trying to hear Spyder above the thunder. The little man was now standing in a circle of curdling black set against the mountain. Spyder tried to wave him away from the entrance.
“Do you smell something?” asked Shrike.
Above them, Primo screamed as crooked black spikes spun
out of the rock, drilling through Primo’s body, pinning him to the rock. As Primo struggled, Count Non started climbing toward him. Too late. Double-edge blades, as long as Primo’s arm, sprang from the sides of the mountain and closed on Primo like the jaws of a colossal mechanical beast. The blades sliced cleanly through the little man and he was silent. Then the spikes rotated out of Primo’s mangled body, allowing the pieces to fall quietly over the rock face. If there was any sound, Spyder couldn’t hear it above the thunder and his own screaming. As the spikes disappeared into black rock the side of the mountain turned back to a dull gray. Count Non dropped down beside Spyder.
“They’re gone. Primo and the cave,” said Spyder. “I can’t see anything.” Rocks tumbled down the mountain at them.
“We can’t stay here!” shouted Lulu.
“Help me up,” said Shrike. “I’m climbing.”
“It’s gone!” shouted Spyder. “We can’t see anything.”
“I don’t need to see it,” she said. “Can’t you smell it?”
“What?”
“Flowers.”
“The smell of the Inferno is like vanilla roses,” said Count Non. “If you can follow that scent, we’ll follow right behind you.” Shrike nodded and the Count lifted her onto the rock face. Shrike climbed slowly, carefully, feeling her way up the wall, groping with her hands and feet for each purchase on the cliff.
Below, the desert floor was turning red and liquid as the sand superheated to glass where the airships’ light weapons hit. Spyder pressed his forehead into the mountain. For the first time in what seemed like a long time, he stepped outside himself and looked at where his sorry ass had landed him: clinging to a murderous mountain on some imaginary island, with warrior angels above and demons below. If you could see me now, Jenny, he whispered. If you could see me now.
Count Non put his hand on Spyder’s shoulder. Spyder looked up and saw Shrike kneeling on a ledge, gesturing for them to come up.
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