Maybe Walker wasn’t strong enough to keep the portal open. Perhaps the oligarchy blocked him. Either way, the end is the same. No exit portal.
There must be something else we can do. Handing over Camilla and Maxon Bane is madness.
Myla must be thinking the same thing. Beside me, she closes her eyes and raises her hand. It’s her classic pose for summoning igni. Knowing my girl, she wants to help everyone escape, but it will only paint a large target on her back.
I grab Myla’s wrist, pulling it down.
“Myla, please.” I keep my voice to the lowest of whispers. “He’ll know.” She knows who he is. Armageddon. If the Oligarchy see her power, Myla will be the first tosses out to the King of Hell.
Myla pauses. I know her heart; she wants to protect her family.
“Hiding you,” I say in a low voice. “It’s the reason we’re all here. What if Armageddon got both the Scala and the Scala Heir? With that kind of power, he could control all the five realms. This is bigger than any of us, Myla.”
My girl nods.
It’s another moment for her. Like mine with the vantys demon. The weight of power. People think it’s all about dressing in fancy clothes or having people bow to you. That’s what infamous rulers enjoy. If you really want to help your people, it’s all duty and sacrifice. Even when, like Myla, what you’re sacrificing is your desire to give up everything for your family. She must stand by as they risk everything for her.
Across the room, the Oligarchy gesture to the Scala. “Maxon Bane.” The old man half-opens his eyes. In Latin, the Oligarchy whisper the words for “Imprison them.” Igni rise from Maxon Bane’s hands and fly about the room. Electric cords bind my hands and feet. I check the room. Everyone is tied up except the Oligarchy and Tim.
The Oligarchy’s eyes blaze bright red. “Every Scala develops a special skill with igni beyond the soul column. Maxon Bane creates ropes and cages.” Their four mouths coil into satisfied grins. “Don’t bother trying to escape. Nothing can break your bonds.” They turn to Tim. “Go outside to Armageddon. Tell him we await his orders.”
Nodding, Tim creates a portal and disappears.
The Oligarchy inspects our faces. “There’s no need for all of you to suffer for the Senator’s crimes.” Their voices come out syrupy and low. “Help us. We’ll keep you safe from Armageddon.”
“And how will you manage that, exactly?” asks Camilla. “You can’t protect yourselves from him.”
I can see why Camilla was such an excellent Senator. She’s able to look uncomfortable truths in the eyes and name them. When it comes to ruling, that’s half the battle.
The portal reopens. Tim steps through, his chest slashed wide open, a mass of purple organs wriggling inside. “Lord Armageddon says thank you for the offer, but he’s here to kill us all.”
Tim crumbles to the floor, dead.
I wish I could have some pleasure from saying, I called this one. But I did call this and Tim still got us imprisoned underground.
Boom… boom…
The walls shake as something tries to break through the sands and into our bunker. Armageddon. The King of Hell isn’t waiting for an invitation. He’s coming to meet us here.
The news scares both the Oligarchy and Maxon Bane. The old thrax sits upright, his crinkled face trembling in terror. “Armageddon is here!”
A plan quickly takes shape. Every thrax promise to protect their prince. Silvinio and Devak were one of the few who broke it. Most respect the vow as sacred, just as Jali did. Lifting my voice, I call to the awakened Scala in Latin. “Thrax! Brother!”
Hearing his native tongue, the Scala turns to me. He says two words in a reverent tone: “My prince.”
Instantly, the electric bonds around my hands and feet disappear. The Scala collapses back onto his stretcher. “Come here, my prince.”
“Maxon!” cry the Oligarchy. “Imprison him!” They point all point in unison to me. But it’s a wasted effort. By calling me his prince, Maxon Bane acknowledged his vow.
“I cannot harm my prince.” The Great Scala reaches out a withered hand in my direction. “Come sit beside me, brother.”
The Oligarchy put up some additional fuss, but it’s a token effort at best. Stepping past them, I approach Maxon Bane and kneel beside his stretcher. My first order of business is to free Myla and her friends.
“I am Lincoln Vidar Osric Aquilus from the House of Rixa, High Prince of the Thrax. Release them all. Now.”
Maxon Bane flicks his hand. “I obey my prince.” All the igni bindings disappear. I scan Myla, ensuring she’s well. She gives me an approving nod, and that means everything.
We’re trapped underground, but together, we can do this.
Maxon Bane grips my arm. “They say Armageddon is coming. I must escape!”
“Yes, Armageddon attacks,” I say gently. I turn to the Oligarchy. “I wish him portaled to safety. What do you want in exchange?”
The Oligarchy lower their heads and close their eyes. “Group Think is a jumble. It isn’t safe to portal anywhere.”
I don’t believe them. Tim just opened a portal a minute ago. “So, you still think to trade him to Armageddon.” I return my attention to the Scala. “We’ll keep trying, brother. But we must stay here for now.”
Maxon Bane’s tightens his grip on my arm. “Ignite your baculum. Give me an honest death, my prince.”
“No, brother.”
If the Oligarchy can’t open a portal, perhaps Walker can. After all, he got close a few minutes ago. I turn to address Walker, but I should never have taken my focus away from the old Scala. Maxon Bane grabs my dagger its holster. Fast as a heartbeat, the ancient thrax buries the blade deep into his own chest, stabbing himself through the heart. His white cloak blooms red with blood.
“No, brother!” The old man’s chest heaves and falls silent. His wrinkled hand tumbles off the stretcher. I set my fingertips on the old man’s neck. “He’s gone.”
The Oligarchy’s eyes blaze blood-red. “Traitors! Murderers! You’ve killed our–” The dead Scala moves. The Oligarchy shut their mouths.
One by one, the igni seep from the Scala’s lifeless form and swirl around his body. He begins to breathe again. The dead man opens his eyes; both glow bright blue. Around him, the tiny igni multiply into a wide column of light.
I don’t need a hunter’s intuition to know this is very, very bad. The dead man points to Myla. His movements are jerky and odd. “I give my powers to the new Scala.”
What happens next takes only a matter of seconds. Each moment burns into my brain as if hours passed. Thousands of igni burst out of the old Scala’s body, forming a swirling column of brightness. That small tornado of power swirls across the bunker floor, heading straight for Myla. Thousands of tiny lightning bolts attach to her skin and slide inside. She gasps in pain.
Myla! I try to run to her. My mind goes swiftly, but my body and the world are simply too slow.
The dead thrax leans back on his stretcher. His eyes close. His breathing slows. “Esme. I come to you. At last. Esme.” He smiles and falls silent. His chest ceases to move. This time, he really is gone.
More igni slip under Myla’s skin. The column of Scala power dims and thins until the last of the igni enter her body. The room becomes perfectly silent.
I pause a few yards before Myla. She positively glows with power and beauty. The pain, whatever that was, has ended. She offers me a smile and I return it.
My girl survived. And she’s the Great Scala.
The Oligarchy bow so low, their foreheads hit the floor. “The new Scala.”
Myla rounds on them. “Yes, I’m the new Scala. And now we’ll discuss how to drive the demons from my homeland.” I turn to Walker. “Bring me the angel Verus.”
The Oligarchy keep speaking with their heads seemingly stuck to the floor. It would be comical if Armageddon weren’t outside and trying to kill us. Once again, they speak in unison. “We cannot allow unauthorized portals at this time
, Great Scala. There’s some kind of interference in Group Think. It’s not safe.”
“Really? How’d you like a quick trip to Hell?” Myla raises her hand, hundreds of igni encircle her palm.
The Oligarchy stay prone to the floor. “We can allow portals for you, Great Scala.”
“That’s more like it.” Myla snaps her fingers. “Walker, go get Verus.”
Walker nods. A portal opens. Its edges blur and waver. Gritting his teeth, Walker steps into the black emptiness and disappears.
Myla points to the folding chairs. “Grab a chair, boys. We’ve lots to talk about.”
The Oligarchy finally stand. “As you wish, Great Scala.” The Oligarchy pick up the metal folding chairs and drag them across the concrete floor.
In some ways, this is heading into familiar territory for me. Negotiations and treaties are what I do. But in another sense, this is all upside down. Myla just became the Great Scala. That was an awesome sight, but also frightening. I simply must be sure she’s all right.
I step up behind Myla. “May I have a minute, Great Scala?”
“I’m Myla.”
So, she’s having issues adjusting to her new role. No judgment here. When I was twelve, I wouldn’t let anyone call me prince for an entire year.
“I see. Follow me, please.” I slip Myla’s hand in mine, guiding her into the small antechamber off the main room. It’s a snug space with dark walls lined with supplies. Once inside, I shut the door, drag out a cot and sit down. I pat the space beside me. “Let’s talk.”
A wild look overtakes Myla’s blue eyes. “This is no time for chit chat. Hell’s about to break loose. For real.”
If she thinks that’s convincing me she needs to go back out there, it won’t work. I lock gazes with my girl. “A few minutes ago, you sucked in enough supernatural electricity to power a universe. We’re not doing anything until I’m sure you’re okay.”
Her bottom lip quivers. “I’m fine. Maybe.”
Rising, I wrap her in a deep hug. My poor, sweet, and supernatural girl.
She leans into my shoulder. “This whole thing began because, like a dumbass, I wanted to know who my father really was. Now it turns out that my dad’s an archangel who’s in Hell, getting tortured for all eternity. So that sucks. Then I meet you, get all lovey and—BOOM—I’m the Scala Heir. Which was weird, but hey, the old Scala could have lived another thousand years, so no big deal, right?” She pokes me softly in the belly. “Am I right or am I right?”
I smile. “You’re right.”
“Well, he didn’t last a week. Now I’m the Great Scala, which is a very sketchy job description that involves everyone trying to control me.” She sniffles into my body armor. “If I’d just listened to Mom, I’d still be fighting Arena matches, skipping school, and living what now looks like a pretty sweet life before I mucked it up.”
I rub her hair in long strokes until her sniffles end. “I’m so sorry this happened to you, Myla.”
Myla loops her arms around my waist. “Maybe after this is all over, we can see if someone else can be the Scala? An heir must be running around someplace. Or, I’ve heard of some pretty amazing magic users. Maybe one of them can zap the igni into someone else.” She groans. “I want to get today over with, kick Armageddon’s ass out of Purgatory, and forget any of this ever happened.” She nuzzles into my shoulder once more. “Except the you part, of course.”
I kiss the top of her head. “Let’s get through today. We can discuss everything else later.”
A long moment passes before she speaks again. “You’re right.”
I cup her face in my hands. “Are you ready to go back now?”
“Nope.” She points to her lips and grins.
I know what she needs.
I kiss her once, gently. “And now?”
“Yup.”
We link hands and step toward the door.
“Oh, Lincoln?”
I pause. “Yes, Myla?”
“Thank you.” Myla blushes. “No one else thought to ask me how I was after, you know.”
I give her palm a little squeeze. “We’re a team, right?”
“Absolutely right.”
Once again, I consider telling her about the Tithe. There’s something I’m missing regarding with her father, angelic blood, and the Tower of Wonders. Yet as soon as the thought occurs to me, I push it aside. My girl has too much on her shoulders right now. Once the situation with Armageddon is well and truly over, we can talk then.
For now, there’s still the King of Hell to handle.
40
I’ve lived my life negotiating treaties. In terms of this one, the setting is a little odd, considering how it’s in a bunker and on metal chairs. Yet beside that, it’s rather regular. Walker returned and with Verus and her guard, but it does seem as if opening portals isn’t easy for anyone right now. The Oligarchy may not have been lying before.
Even so, don’t trust them.
Cissy, Zeke and Adair stay in a side room. Myla’s friends are making sure Adair stays out of trouble, which is greatly appreciated. This situation is tough enough without the House of Acca getting added into the mix.
The negotiations start off poorly with the Oligarchy suggesting we hand over Myla. I’m ready to rip their bony heads off, but Myla threatens to send them to Hell and that idea gets passed aside.
Did I mention how I hate the Oligarchy? Evil.
In the end, Myla negotiates that Purgatory will return to quasi rule. The Oligarchy will leave while the angels will ensure they stay gone. It’s a brilliant plan; my girl will indeed be an excellent queen one day. The only negative is, of course, the constant pounding over our heads from Armageddon. The deal with getting the Oligarchy out of Purgatory—and freeing Myla’s people—is contingent on us figuring out a way to inspire Armageddon to leave the area as well.
As always with the Oligarchy, it all about what’s easiest for them.
That’s a sticking point. How does one get rid of the King of Hell? It looks as if negotiations will crumble. Then Myla volunteers to use her igni powers and send Armageddon to Hell. I volunteer to stand beside her, of course. Camilla, Zeke and Cissy offer to act as a distraction. Turns out, there’s a back exit to the bunker. Myla and I can sneak through that hidden way and crawl up onto the ridge. The ledge overlooks both the main door and Armageddon. From there, we’ll figure it out as we go.
I’ve gone into all-out demonic wars with worse plans.
And my Myla? She’s amazing. I know she’s anxious about wielding her powers. But I believe in her. She’s got this.
Walker, however, disagrees. He makes one last plea to Myla. “You saw the old Scala at the iconigration. He almost collapsed sending a few dozen icons to heaven. Even at his best, he could only move a few hundred at a time in one place. You’re talking about five thousand demons across all of Purgatory.”
Myla rounds on him. “You’re being a downer, Walker. I’m a first-generation archangel, whatever that is. Plus, I’m an arena fighter, a Lewis, and someone with a lot to lose. I can do this.” She forces on a confident face, and I love her for it.
My woman appears so fierce in this moment. Like a statue or a painting. When we get through this, I’ll have to commission one for the royal feasting hall. I ignore the small voice that says there will be no feasting hall, no queen. We all have doubts. Yet in this moment, I choose yes, we will kick ass.
I choose Myla.
Verus runs off to write up the treaty terms. Myla turns to me. “Time to face my demons.”
Camilla points to a spot along the back of the room. “There’s a secret exit behind those shelves. It opens to the great dune behind the rock wall. We’ve checked the periscope. Armageddon’s troops are deployed on the low sands in front of the wall. If you stay behind the dune, you’ll be hidden.”
There’s some concerns about the Oligarchy. Specifically, I’m concerned about leaving them alone in the bunker. In the end, Verus volunteers to babysit the four
of them. After that, Camilla heads to the bunker’s exit with Cissy and Zeke behind her. Myla’s mother has changed, so she’s now dressed as a senator. Cissy wears the robes of a Junior Senator and Zeke is dressed their guard. By marching out the front door, they’ll grab Armageddon’s attention … and hopefully, serve as a diversion for me and Myla.
Meanwhile, Myla and I explore the shelves along the back wall. It doesn’t take us long to find the panel that Camilla told us about. With a light shove, the shelves easily slide away, revealing a low and dark tunnel in the concrete wall.
We’re off.
Myla and I crawl through the tunnel. As promised, it empties out onto back side of the hill outside the bunker. I’ve been on my share of demon patrols. Crawling up to a sniper’s spot isn’t anything new to me. But Myla’s only been in arena fights. She should be overwhelmed and testy, but she isn’t. I’m so proud.
Together, we belly-crawl to the peak of the hill and take up position. At this point, it’s like we’re snipers without a rifle, looking down on the enemy below. That thought is comforting, somehow. Familiar.
I quickly catalog the body position of all our enemies. A legion of troops surround the bunker’s door, which s a round portal set into the sand. A massive manus demon stands at the center of the crowd. This gorilla-like monster is the largest creature I’ve ever seen. Hoisting its long arms high above its head, the manus slams its fists onto the desert floor, scooping up piles of sand and throwing them off to one side. With each throw, he gets a little closer to the bunker door.
Boom, boom…
That’s what’s been rattling over our heads. The manus has been trying to break in, or scare us into coming out.
The circular door springs to life, igniting into a ring of white flame. The manus demon leaps out of the fire’s path. Camilla, Cissy, and Zeke step outside.
Straightening her shoulders, Camilla speaks in a calm voice that echoes through the desert. “I come here today on behalf of angels, ghouls, thrax, and quasis. This unwarranted invasion of our–”
I gently tap Myla’s upper arm. “We’re on.”
Myla nods, takes in a long breath, and closes her eyes. As she’s done before, she raises her hand. Sure enough, a handful of tiny lightning bolts swim around her palm. It’s breathtaking.
Lincoln: Angelbound Book 2 with bonus novella, Duty Bound Page 34