Into the Abyss

by Brenda K. Davies

  The horsemen are not as close as they seem.

  “We need her alive to do as we bid, and if we kill the demon, she’ll be useless to us,” Pride continued.

  Some of Lust’s hatred waned until it smoldered beneath the surface like a burning ember.

  “Now, child,” Pride said to me.

  This time when I refused to look at him, his hand shot out and he gripped my chin. His finger dug into my flesh, bruising it but not drawing any blood as he forced my head toward him. I tried to break free of his touch before he could poison me with his overly arrogant ways, but he was keeping his power confined, for now.

  My mother shifted beside me, and her hand tightened on my shoulder. “This is my daughter,” she hissed from between her teeth. “Do not hurt her.”

  Pride’s eyes flicked toward her; I tensed to defend her as I waited for him to attack. No one told Pride what to do. But he glanced dismissively away from her.

  “I’m not playing games with you, child.” Pride’s fingers dug into my chin until my skin broke, blood trickled free, and his nail scraped my bone. A muscle twitched in my clenched jaw, but I didn’t make a sound. “I’ll tear those beautiful eyes from your head and personally hand them to your Chosen unless you do what I command.”

  “She’s not to be hurt,” my father said and stepped toward him.

  “Paupi, no!” I cried and threw out my hand to snatch his back before he could touch Pride.

  The horseman may not be infecting me yet, he needed me for something, but he would have no qualms about taking down my father.

  “You are going to take us to where Kobal’s followers are hiding,” Pride said.

  “No, I’m not,” I replied.

  “Yes, you are, because if you don’t, I’m going to take you to Corson’s Chosen and I’m going to make you watch as I cut off her hair. Then I’m going use her hair to tie a pretty blonde bow around the ears, lips, and nose I’ll also cut from her. I’m going to make sure you personally hand the package to Corson when you do agree to take us to him.”

  My belly clenched at the possibility, and when Pride smirked, I knew my eyes had shifted colors to give away at least something of my emotions.

  “You don’t like that,” he purred as he rubbed my chin. “And you don’t know his Chosen, do you?”

  “We’ve… ah… we’ve never spoken,” I admitted.

  “Yet the idea of her suffering in such a way upsets you, how sweet. You truly do have the loveliest eyes, child; I knew some fae before we were locked away. Exquisite creatures, spineless, but exquisite.” Lifting his head, he focused on something over my head. His expression became distant as if he were remembering something, and a smile curved his mouth. “One time, I tore the spine from a fae for fun; her screams were as enchanting as she was.”

  Where his finger dug into my skin, a spreading sickness seeped into my system. I could feel his rot seeping into me, and it took all I had not to knock his hand away, but he’d make me pay if I did.

  “Now,” Pride said, and his attention returned to me, “I’ll tell you what I’m going to do to your Chosen. First, I’ll cut off his cock, and while he’s still screaming from that”—he seized my hand before I saw him move and lifted it before me, gripping my index finger—“I’m going to cut off his fingers, but not all at once. Oh no, I’m going take them apart knuckle by knuckle before starting on his toes and doing the same. Then, I’m going to slice him from groin to gullet and dissect him one piece at a time until—”

  “Stop,” I moaned.

  He leaned so close to me that our noses nearly touched, and the neon lavender of his eyes deepened to a purple, the same color as the calamut leaves. The sexual arousal emanating from him caused my sick, tainted feeling to grow. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of looking away, but I couldn’t hold his gaze anymore.

  His breath tickled my nose and lips when he spoke again. “Everyone thinks Death is the worst horseman, but they’re wrong. It’s me. And do you know why it’s me?”

  I shook my head no, and his finger scratched against my chin bone. I barely registered pain, but I cringed at the sound it made.

  “Speak up, child. I can’t hear you,” Pride purred

  “No,” I whispered.

  “No, what?”

  “No, I don’t know why you are the worst of the horsemen,” I said.

  Releasing my chin, he rose to his full height again. “Then, let me educate you!” he cried with a zeal bordering on insanity. “The humans dubbed me the deadliest of the sins, but as you know, the dimwitted humans separated the sins from the horsemen when we are all one in the same. I suspect this is because, as mortals, humans believe nothing can be worse than death. We both know that’s wrong though, don’t we?”

  “Yes,” I said when he paused long enough that I realized he expected an answer from me.

  “Ah, yes, so the humans fear death the most,” he sighed. “But my fellow rider, Death, simply kills you, but there is no fun in that. The fun is in the play. I am the horseman who takes great pride in making suffering an exquisite, eternal thing. I am the horseman many humans called the boogeyman and hid under their beds from; I am the one demons cower from.

  “I am the horseman no one can avoid. Not everyone falls victim to gluttony or sloth. Not everyone gives in to their lusts and greed. Not everyone goes to war or experiences famine; there are even those rare beings who never know envy. Many know rage, but there are some who never experience true wrath. And, if immortals play their cards right, they may never experience death. I mean, look at how old some of the angels are. Look at how old we are.”

  I had no idea how old the horsemen were; I wasn’t sure anyone knew. They’d been sealed away after the jinn, but that was only because the horsemen had probably been harder to trap.

  “But everyone, and I do mean everyone, experiences at least one second of pride in their lives. Children take pride in things before they can name the emotion they’re experiencing. All the other horsemen can be avoided, but no one avoids me.”

  He was so smug he didn’t realize his arrogance would be his ultimate demise. If that time ever came.

  “And I am far more twisted than my fellow riders,” he said.

  I couldn’t help but glance at Lust when I felt the smallest trickle of apprehension from her. She’s afraid of him.

  I gulped before meeting Pride’s beautiful eyes again.

  “You’re going to take us to the others now,” he said to me.

  I opened my mouth to say no, but the word froze in my throat. I’d rather die than give into these creatures, and I could say no if this were as simple as my death. I would sacrifice myself to help stop the spread of the horsemen’s evil, but what Pride intended to do to the three of us was a fate far worse than death.

  And what will he do once you give into him? He’s not going to let you walk away; he’s not going to free Magnus or Wren. And with Corson in his hands, what could he learn about the king?

  “No,” I croaked.

  The simple word was the toughest one I’d ever spoken, but once it left my mouth, I knew it was right.

  There was a moment in which it didn’t seem as if he heard my response, and then fury emanated from him.

  “I was hoping you would say that; more fun for me,” he lied.

  I didn’t get a chance to reply as he turned, grabbed my mother’s head, and tore it from her shoulders before anyone could react. I recoiled when her hot blood sprayed over my face and clothes. A scream rose and lodged in my throat when her body toppled in front of me. Pride released her head, which thumped on the rocks before rolling to settle near my mother’s shoulders.

  The scream burst free of me as I collapsed to my knees. “No!”

  Pride’s hand landed on my shoulder. Bearing down on me, he dug my knees painfully into the rocks as he pinned me in place.

  Through tear-filled eyes, I turned my bleary gaze to my father as strange, choked sounds tore from him. Collapsing beside me, he gath
ered my mother’s body into his arms and sobbed while he rocked back and forth.

  “Vya,” he whimpered in a voice I didn’t recognize.

  I did this to him; to her. I did this!

  No, he did this!

  Lifting my head, I glowered at Pride as my heart shredded into a thousand pieces.

  CHAPTER 39

  Magnus

  When I made it to the top of the bars, I kept my legs and one hand locked on them. From here, the mark was only a foot away from me. I stretched out with my free hand and felt over the symbol. I’d expected it to be etched into the ceiling, or maybe branded onto it, but it was smooth against the sandstone, almost as if it were a part of it.

  Frowning, I pulled my hand away and examined the marking more closely. “There has to be a way to break it.”

  Rereleasing the bar, I used the side of my hand to rub at the mark. I scrubbed until my skin scraped off and my blood stained the ceiling, but the symbol remained untouched.

  “You know,” Wren said, “I think if it were as simple as rubbing a piece of the symbol away, they wouldn’t have put it within easy reach of the bars.”

  I didn’t reply as I rubbed harder, but the mark remained fully intact. Drawing my fist back, I ignored the discomfort in my body as I battered the ceiling. My knuckles broke open, more blood spilled free, but I ignored it as I was determined to tear through the symbol and rip it to shreds.

  Minutes later, sweat slid down my cheeks, my battered body ached, my hand was broken, and I hadn’t made so much as a scratch on the surface. The only difference in the marking was my blood drying on it.

  “No!” The scream tore my attention away from the symbol as the word rebounded down the hallways and echoed throughout the ruins.

  Amalia! I recognized the voice instantly and the anguish in it.

  What had they done to her? What were they doing to her?

  I’ll kill them ALL!

  Releasing the bars, I landed on the ground as her scream reverberated in my head. My shoulders heaved, and my horns curved away from my head. The still new sensation of them sliding forward was strange, but it came with a rush of power that I felt all through my body.

  “Who was that?” Wren stared at the back wall of her cell as if she could somehow see through it. When her head turned toward me, her eyes were haunted, but then her jaw dropped. “Magnus, your horns!”

  I have to get out of here! I have to get to her!

  Clutching the bars again, I forgot any pain as I ascended and, without thinking, battered my horns into where my blood stained the ceiling. Whereas my fists had failed to penetrate the symbol, my horns caused bits of sandstone to break free and rain down on me. I pulled my head back and slammed my horns into the ceiling again.

  As more dust broke free, the bars wobbled and a faint grinding noise sounded from somewhere above me.

  “Magnus,” Wren said slowly. “I… ah… I’m not sure that’s a great idea. It sounds a little—”

  The rest of her words were drowned out when I rammed my horns into the symbol again. My horns took the brunt of it, but this blow jarred my spine all the way to my tailbone. Head throbbing, I pounded the ceiling with my horns again.

  I don’t care if I break every bone in my body, I’ll destroy this thing.

  Pulling my head back, I was about to ram the symbol again when the low grinding noise became an ominous groan.

  It’s booby-trapped.

  I had only a second to register this, release the bars, and lunge toward the front of my cell before debris broke free from above to pelt my shoulders and back. A chunk of building the size of a boulder hit me between my shoulder blades and knocked me to one knee.

  When another one crashed onto my other shoulder, I fell to my knees. Debris piled up on my back so fast I was certain it would bury me alive. Dust clogged my nostrils and filled my mouth when I drew in a breath.

  Choking, I tried to spit out the cascading rubble, but there was no escaping it. My next breath brought the debris all the way into my lungs.

  “Magnus!” Wren’s scream barely penetrated through the thunderous clatter of my grave falling around me.

  Amalia! I have to get to her.

  The thought of her gave me a fresh wave of strength. When I stretched my arm out, my fingers curled around a large rock, and I used it as leverage to pull myself out from under the crushing weight of debris. Rocks slid away from my back as I strained to pull myself forward inch by excruciatingly slow inch.

  And then, some of the weight gave way enough for me to scramble to my feet. The rubble causing the floor to rise beneath my feet forced me to run in a hunched-over position toward the front of the cell. I would have only one chance at freedom before everything collapsed on top of me.

  Lowering my shoulders, I ran full speed at the bars.

  • • •

  Amalia

  Pride lifted my mother’s head from the ground and held it before me. I recoiled from her unseeing eyes and gaping mouth.

  “Are you going to tell me no again?” Pride asked as he waved her head at me.

  He wanted to see me break and watch me crumble, and I was so close to doing that, but I couldn’t. If I did, he’d destroy me, and I would never give him that satisfaction.

  “You bastard,” I whispered.

  My father lunged for the head, an inhuman sound issuing from him. His hand snatched at the air and came up with nothing as Pride swung it beyond his grasp.

  “Give her to me!” my father bellowed.

  I winced at the raw agony pouring from him, but gradually his sorrow became replaced with a building rage that would make the erinyes proud. And the erinyes demons more than lived up to the name the humans had given them—furies.

  When my father leapt at Pride again, I dove forward and wrapped my arms around his waist. I managed to stop him from grabbing the horseman. “Paupi, please no,” I pleaded.

  The death of my mother also doomed my father, but I craved a few more minutes with him, and I did not want Pride to destroy him. The lump in my throat threatened to choke me as my father’s emotions poured from him. My parents had spent over eighteen thousand years as each other’s Chosen.

  I could only hope Magnus and I might have the time they’d shared, but to lose someone after so many years, and after enduring so much with them, was a loss I couldn’t fathom, but I felt it from my father. He may still be breathing and speaking, but he was essentially a living corpse.

  When my father struggled to break out of my arms, Nalki intervened and helped me restrain him.

  “No, Eron,” Nalki murmured. “Your death will solve nothing.”

  My father collapsed like someone pulled the bones from his body. Sobbing, he gathered my mother’s body to him again.

  “Now,” Pride said, his eyes focused on me. “Will you take us to them, or shall I get your Chosen?”

  Around me, the shock of some of the jinn was fading to become replaced with disbelief and anger over the murder of my mother. Their postures were rigid as they glanced from my mother to Pride and back again. In his arrogance, Pride miscalculated the depth of the jinn’s loyalty to each other compared to him. And so had Olgon as some of them turned angry eyes toward my uncle.

  But not all of the jinn were angry; some were fine with what happened, and they would allow Pride to do as he pleased. Olgon was one of them. The knowledge his brother would die hadn’t fazed him.

  “Child—”

  A sudden vibration rocking the ground caused Pride’s words to break off. I stared at the rocks beneath my knees, half expecting the ouroboros to have returned to life and burst from the rocks.

  Embracing my father, I pulled him closer, and Nalki released him. My heart thundered in my chest. I waited for a fissure to race across the ground as the earth split apart to swallow us whole. Maybe the Abyss finally had enough of being abused and decided to destroy us all. I wouldn’t blame it if it had.

  My father shook in my arms, but his tears had dried and his eyes
burned with rage. Except this time, he wasn’t glaring at Pride. No, he focused his hatred on Olgon.

  The rumbling became a crescendo reverberating throughout the valley and quaked the walls behind me. Debris broke free and bounced down the wall before pelting my back. My father grunted when a large stone caught him in the head, but he didn’t attempt to protect himself from further injury.

  I tried to pull my father away from the rubble jarring loose behind us, but Pride remained in our way, and I didn’t want my paupi anywhere near that monster. Beside us, Nalki hunched over and threw his arms protectively over his head.

  What is going on?

  I folded myself over my broken father to protect him from the more massive falling rocks and gritted my teeth when they pelted my back. And then, the rain of them eased, though the ground still quaked. I chanced a glance up to discover Nalki leaving himself less protected as he knocked some of the larger rocks away from us.

  Then, the ground heaved and thrust us all forward as a rending noise filled the air.

  “Amalia!” my father cried. He wrenched free of my arms, threw himself over me, and pinned me to the ground. This brief return to reality for him wouldn’t last, but this glimpse of the man he’d been before these bastards destroyed him was wonderful to see.

  Then, the ground stopped shaking, and I found the ensuing quiet nearly as terrifying as the disturbance.

  Lifting my head, I looked up in time to see rocks and sand blow outward from the ruins. The thick cloud of debris exploding over the top of the crater sent some of the jinn scurrying away as boulders whistled through the air before crashing to the ground. Rocks hit the monolith and bounced away, but none of them left so much as a scratch on the metallic surface.

  “Magnus!” I screamed, somehow knowing he’d done this. “Magnus!”

  Clawing at the ground, I started to drag myself out from under my father when he released me. Probably because he wouldn’t have let anyone stand in his way of getting to my mother.

  I leapt to my feet as more boulders crashed into the pit, shaking the earth and leaving craters in the ground. A few of them nearly took out a couple of jinn, and Sloth finally stirred on his mount. When he kicked his horse, it grudgingly plodded forward.