by Rin Chupeco
“We are not so cruel as to blame you for that, milords,” I assured them. I turned to Vanya, who looked both surprised and hopeful. “I think there’s someone who’s been wanting to talk to you both, though.”
Both brothers visibly relaxed. “Vanya,” Ivan groaned. “Did you know how worried we were, you little twit? Our pardon, Your Holinesses.”
“None taken. Go on,” I told the boy. “You’ve got a lot of catching up to do, it seems.”
The lordling shot us a grateful look, before hurrying forward to meet his brothers, his relief and joy clear for all to see.
“You know, I see no problem with using blood sacrifices just this one time,” Lisette said. She stared at the Hellmakers, making it no secret who she had planned on volunteering.
“No more killing, Lisette,” Odessa said sharply.
“We’ve got four goddesses on hand,” Mother Salla said. “A rare occurrence in the history of Aeon. That’s at least two chances, and I suggest making good use of them.”
“They will succeed,” Sonfei said confidently, drawing nearer to us. “I have every belief.”
What I wasn’t expecting was for Asteria to promptly turn red. “Sonfei,” she managed, looking everywhere but at him.
To our shock, Sonfei took her hand, pressed a kiss on her wrist. “The Liangzhu are standing by, and ready to move at your command, Your Holiness. Half of us will stay behind to protect both the camp and the city, and the rest shall accompany you to the Great Below.” He bowed to the rest of us and left, Asteria still staring at the ground in apparent mortification.
“Oh,” Noelle breathed. “Oh. Good on her.”
“Noe!” Odessa gasped, looking scandalized. Lan, on the other hand, threw her head back and laughed.
Since it was Odessa who possessed the galla’s gifts, she and I were to make the first attempt. As before, I channeled every conceivable pattern and felt Odessa do the same. Our incanta swirled together in a dazzling display of blues, red, whites, and greens before coalescing into something solid and sure, with all our hopes contained therein. We poured all of it into the small monument before us.
The air around the broken column sizzled, flickered, died down. We waited expectantly, but nothing else happened.
I turned around with a cry of dismay. “It didn’t—”
The gateway burst into being, knocking us back a few feet. Before our eyes it grew in size until we found ourselves staring through the portal and into a shadowy, fog-ridden darkness. Gasps rose from the others.
“How long will the gate last?” Lars asked Asteria.
“Almost indefinitely—as long as nothing within makes an attempt to close it.”
Lan shuddered. “When I was tossed back into the city of Aranth, the demons pulled it shut behind me.”
“We’ll need to keep this gateway open for as long as necessary,” Mother Salla said crisply. “Should it close . . . it will take weeks before we can stage a rescue.”
“Activate the dome, Yeong-ho,” Mother commanded. With a whir, the air around us hardened and took on a thick, glassy sheen.
The strategy was simple enough. The monument’s proximity to the Golden City meant that it would be easier to defend both at once, with the mechanika monitoring the monument and making sure the new, smaller dome was running smoothly. The bulk of Mother’s army was to use cannons and other long-range weapons to attack the swarm. The clans and some of the strongest of the Silverguards and Redguards were to defend the monument should any galla break through. Noelle, who had been making estimates of the galla swarm’s attacks, believed that the creatures arrived in roughly twenty- to twenty-four-hour intervals, allowing us to plan the journey before their expected assault. Latona ordered her men to keep watch all the same.
Yeong-ho’s barrier also covered a path back to the city, in case our forces had to retreat. I didn’t want to think about the circumstances that would lead to that. It would mean the team within the Great Abyss was—that we were—already lost.
The most difficult part of the mission lay with us. Guided by the paintings in the temple, we were bringing others with us, people who could defend each of the seven gates we would have to pass through before entering the Cruel Kingdom. I hadn’t been shocked to see Noelle volunteer, as if venturing into the underworld was something she did often. Nor was I surprised when Sonfei offered. He looked softer somehow, happier than I’d ever seen him. Asteria, too, had lost some of her harder edges, and her gaze as she looked back at the Liangzhu man was warm. I was stunned to see Mother with a gentle smile on her lips as she snuck a few glances their way.
“I’ve never seen Mother smile like that before,” Odessa admitted quietly, looking like she was itching to eavesdrop on their conversation.
“I’ve never seen my mother smile like this, either.” It was hard not to hope that we would all come out of this alive, even knowing the odds.
Vanya had also insisted on coming with us. “My brothers will be fighting with you at the Abyss,” he said stubbornly. “They volunteered because—because they wanted to bring back the honor Father had lost with his betrayal.”
“Your brothers are good men,” I told him.
He lifted his chin, tone pleading. “I have to be there with them, too. I can be useful. Don’t make me stay behind.”
I hesitated. “It’s one thing to permit Ivan and Misha to fight. They both have more experience in battle. But the extent of yours is the two expeditions you’ve gone on with us.”
“Let him go,” Lisette said.
The Addax clan mistress was the last person I would have expected to side with him. “I’m not sure—”
“Let him go. This is something he has to prove. My siblings and I didn’t have a choice. He does, and he’s choosing to help.”
“Thank you, Lady Lisette,” Vanya mumbled.
“Oh, so it’s Lady Lisette, now?” But there was a tiny, happy smile on her face that I doubted she was even aware of.
Both Mother and Asteria were to accompany us, dismissing Tamera’s protests that at least one should stay behind. “The real battle will be taking place underground,” Asteria told her. “While we are away, I expect you, Lars, and Yeong-ho to remain in charge. I am counting on you three to keep my sister’s city safe until we return.”
“I will, Your Holiness.” There were tears in Tamera’s eyes. “We’ll fight them off for as long as you need, I promise you that.”
I gazed back at our armies standing at attention before us. Their generals and clan leaders had informed them about the shrine paintings, told them what to expect. They’d chosen to come with us and fight all the same, and my heart swelled with gratitude, but was gripped by fear at the same time.
What if we were wrong?
I stared past the portal and into the swirling darkness beyond it. This was the Cruel Kingdom, I thought. We’d followed the paintings in the cave as best we could, obeyed the instructions within The Ages of Aeon. The only thing we hadn’t been able to bring was the stone of immortality; the payment for our exit, the reason Inanna had invoked the Cruel Kingdom’s wrath. What would it demand from us in exchange, if we didn’t have that?
Odessa and I looked at each other. There was no going back now. But I felt a strange comfort in knowing that whatever we might face within, we at least were going to do it together.
“Ready?” she asked me. I saw the same nervousness on her face that I was feeling, but the same determination there, too.
“You don’t have to do this,” I said suddenly.
“What do you mean?”
I gestured at the gateway. “You don’t have to go to the underworld with me. You can stay here and help defend the city instead.”
“Haidee . . .”
“You know that I was the one who was going to be sacrificed, anyway. They don’t sacrifice the goddess who accepts the galla’s gifts. This is the world you’re supposed to be ruling. If anything happens to me, then at least it’s something that was always supposed to h
appen.” A few days ago, the thought had terrified me. Now, it was something I accepted as truth.
Odessa turned to me, smiling gently. Ever since successfully defending against the galla horde with me, pooling our abilities together, she was different. Whenever she’d channeled her incanta before it was almost always from a place of anger, or from impulsiveness, and I was afraid that she wouldn’t be able to come back from that. But now that she’d realized that the galla’s corruption no longer had a hold on her, she was more relaxed, more controlled—but at the same time, more determined. “I’m not going to abandon you, Haidee.”
I stepped away from her, crossing my arms over my chest. “You have everything to live for.” Odessa had Lan to think of. I had no one.
Odessa’s jaw was set in a stubborn line, something I’d done frequently enough to recognize when it was done by someone who looked exactly like me. “Lan and I talked, and we both agreed. We know the risks. We know this is greater than any of us. Wherever the Cruel Kingdom is, I intend to walk into it with you.”
I closed my eyes briefly. “Thank you.” I wanted to sound grateful, but I wasn’t in a place to accept gratitude just yet.
She understood. She drew me closer, hugged me. “I love you,” she said firmly. “I know you know that. Whatever happens, I’m not letting you go.”
Mother, to her credit, said nothing. Like me, she’d been the one who was supposed to be sacrificed, though she’d fought against that fate by defying the Devoted and finding love. She’d fought harder than I had, I realized; I’d been mistaken in thinking she’d always been passive.
Instead, she turned to Asteria. “I could say the same thing to you,” she said quietly. “You were meant to rule Aeon, after all.”
“I don’t want to. I don’t want to pretend the Brighthenge ritual has any validity. The Devoted kept us apart because they knew we would be stronger together. Generations of goddesses died because of them. We should have fought harder to break the cycle. And now our daughters are paying for our mistakes. I won’t tell them they can’t fight with us. But I’ll face Inanna, or Ereshkigal, or whatever in that kingdom wears their faces, with you.”
Mother let out a soft, tearful sob. And then she was hugging Asteria with all her might.
Bells sounded in the city. Lan cursed.
“I wasn’t expecting another wave so soon,” Noelle pointed out, sounding grim.
“Perhaps the Cruel Kingdom is aware they’re about to have visitors,” Tamera said grimly, “and they’ve prepared an early welcome party.”
Mother and Asteria looked at each other. Their hands were clasped together. “Defend our people, Tamera,” Mother said crisply, and both turned to step through the gateway, even as a fresh wave of galla appeared on the horizon, easily double the size of the last swarm. I heard the call to arms, the soldiers who were to defend us aboveground forming ranks, preparing themselves for one final stand. Those who were to join us underground were already forming up behind me, ready to follow us into the literal pits of hell. My mouth tasted like ashes, dread seizing me once again. Had we led these people this far, only to lead them to their deaths now?
But Odessa linked her fingers with mine, and the calm, determined look on her face gave me strength.
Shots rang out as the desert tribes, the Aranthians, and the Golden City army began raining fire down on the incoming demons.
Odessa and I tightened our grips. “Let’s go,” we said in unison, and stepped through the portal as well, our soldiers close behind.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Arjun in Hell
I WAS AT LEAST 90 percent sure that I was dead. The last 10 percent was only holding out because I didn’t think the dead would be this self-aware.
The first clue was that nothing hurt. Not the ankle I’d broken, not the wound on my chest where Janella had stabbed me, which was the kind of thing I’d always assumed would be fatal. When I ran my fingers across where the injury had been, just to be sure, I found nothing but unbroken skin. There wasn’t even scarring.
I was dead, right? Even if my wound had somehow been miraculously healed, the fall would have killed me.
I glanced up, but saw only darkness. There was no indication of an opening above my head. The cavern, the treasures, Haidee—they were gone.
If I was dead, then why was there a familiar bad feeling settling at the pit of my stomach, a suggestion that some part of me was still human, still able to be afraid?
And where was Haidee? If anything had happened to her—
The dead should be cold, right? So why did I feel so warm?
I glanced down at my hand, and realized I was holding a stone.
A stone that was shining so damn brightly, in a way it hadn’t done while it was mounted at the altar. I could feel its energies traveling up my arm. I’d never felt stronger.
Right. Inanna’s immortality stone.
“Am I immortal?”
My voice echoed across the empty space, unanswered. As far as questions went, it felt like a pretty stupid one.
“Hell and sandrock. The fuck.”
No response to that one, either.
I willed myself to be calm. I wasn’t dead. I couldn’t be dead. Being dead felt too much like being alive to actually be dead. And if I wanted to stay being not-dead, then I needed to figure out how I was gonna get out of here.
Which begged the question: Where was here, exactly?
I was in a large tunnel; that much I could make out. I opened my fire-gate, relieved that I could still use incanta, and conjured small, tapered flames atop my fingers—I’d lost my Howler in the fall, dislodged from my arm during that long, terrifying plunge down—to survey my surroundings. The walls looked to be made of the same type of rock as the small temple, and I wondered if this place was located beneath it, even farther underground. I didn’t want to think about whether or not I was trapped here.
I didn’t have much choice. The way forward led into more darkness. Turning in the opposite direction, I found myself staring at a wall—a dead end. If I wanted to leave, I’d have to keep walking, and hope there was nothing else down here with me.
Minutes passed. How long had I been here? An hour? Two? A hundred? I felt like I’d been walking forever. How many more miles before the path ended? I glanced down at the stone in my hand again. If I was still alive, then this must be the reason for it.
I could see now why someone would have secreted it away, built traps around it and cast illusions to hide it from the rest of the world. I thought about Janella; she had plunged into the chasm with me. What had become of her? And where was Haidee? The thought of her potentially injured somewhere made my chest hurt, made me feel inadequate and useless. She needed the stone; I didn’t.
Something snagged my ankle, and I stumbled. With a grunt, I looked down.
A hand had sprouted out of the ground. It had wound itself around my foot, and its grip was strong.
I blurted out every expletive I knew, kicking frantically at its wrist. It relinquished its hold, but more began to creep out of the floor, fingers curling, the paleness of their skin stark against the muddy earth. More ripped at my pants leg and climbed up my arms, tried to sling themselves around my neck. Some clearly had an objective in mind: hands clutched at my wrist, fingers attempting to pry the stone out from my grasp.
I set fire to the whole damned floor.
They fell away, and I didn’t bother to see if that had killed them, only scrambled up off the ground and ran for my life. The darkness yawned before me, but I was more eager to chance what lay in its depths then remain with those ghastly hands.
The Corridor of Yearning, I thought without breaking my stride. Wasn’t that some of the tripe in The Ages of Aeon that Vanya had yammered on about? An area of hell where souls greedy in life were doomed to spend an eternity. Maybe I wasn’t dead. Maybe I was unconscious somewhere, and this was all a nightmare fueled by the lordling’s damn tall tales that had embedded themselves in my subconsciousness.
Or maybe my injuries had driven me mad somehow. This couldn’t be real.
The ground gave way without warning, and I skidded to a stop, scrambled back. I stood before the edge of a cliff, looking down into a gaping black hole that showed no signs of a bottom. The Gorge of Wrath, then, I thought numbly, where those unable to control their rage in life were made to fall forever.
Arjun.
It was a whisper of a sound, soft and coaxing. It came from behind me.
Arjun.
I knew that voice. I hadn’t heard it in nearly eight years.
I found myself trembling. The stone felt unbearably hot against my palm.
Arjun.
I didn’t want to look behind me. But I knew that they would be willing to wait as long as they needed, until I did.
I turned.
Had Jerbie still been alive, he would have been about the same age as I was. But death had cursed him to be ten years old forever. The hole in his head obscured his features somewhat, but I would recognize him anywhere. I had buried Jerbie myself. My fire-gate had first manifested the day he’d died. I’d lost my hand because my rage had caused me to lose control.
Arjun, it said. Arjun, you promised me I could have a turn with it.
A small spinning top. Mother Salla had salvaged it from some old wreckage. She’d given it to me as a reward because I’d found the most fish that week. The day before his death, Jerbie had needled me endlessly about it, asking for a turn to play. He never had his chance.
It’s my turn now, it insisted, inching closer. I backed away, and felt loose rocks crumble beneath my feet, the heel of my boot scraping along the edges of the cliff. Jerbie’s eyes were nothing but hollow sockets now, but his ghost’s gaze was trained on the stone in my hand. Its voice rose, the pitch rising.
You promised, Arjun! Let me have it!
He wasn’t alone.
Multitudes of eyes shone out from the darkness behind him; hundreds of ghosts were crawling out to confront me. That they were victims of violence was evident in their maimed bodies, their malformed and bloody faces. The stone was a beacon to them; they shuffled forward, gazes hungry.