Even Hell Has Knights (Hellsong)

by Shaun O. McCoy

  Rick wiped some of the water off of his brow. “Yeah, I’ll look forward to eating tonight. You’ve got enough fruit for us?”

  “Yes.” Ellen’s voice sounded distant to her own ears.

  “It’s good to see all these people working together.” Rick was looking anywhere but towards the wall. “Builds spirit. The villagers feel better. I like working with them, too.”

  “Of course.”

  “It’s a good thing, showing them how to build the walls. They’ve seen it before, of course, but it helps them just the same. They’d be able to make their own, I think.”

  “Yeah.”

  Rick breathed in through his nose and looked up to the ceiling for a second.

  “I’ll show you how to make a pie out of that fruit,” he went on. “You’ll probably pick it up pretty quickly. Pretty quickly. It’s tricky making dough out of devilwheat. You have to be really careful about what you put into it. What you put in. And cooking it is a chore. It’ll come apart really easily if you cook it too much. It dries out too much. Then you don’t really have a pie. You know. It dries out too much.”

  He blinked a few more times before speaking again. “We did a really good job—”

  Ellen reached out and took his hand. She held it for a second, and then she hugged him.

  Rick covered his face and cried.

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” one of the Carrion warriors shouted over the cacophony of water.

  Pyle peered into the chamber. It was a purely natural cavern, perhaps a mile in length. Its left and right walls were ragged and sheer. Possible to scale but it would require an expert climber to do so. Water streamed down in places along the sides of the cavern and fell freely from cracks all along the five hundred foot tall ceiling. A particularly tremendous waterfall, wider than any Pyle had ever seen, flowed out of the far end.

  Hale said something, but Pyle couldn’t hear him over the torrents.

  “What?” Pyle yelled.

  “Giant’s Tunnel,” Hale shouted.

  “Bullshit.” One of the warriors disagreed. “Giant’s Tunnel ain’t got water.”

  “The settling,” Sinna’s high pitch could be heard easily. “You can see its cracks all over the place. It must have let some river in.”

  Pyle walked in and took full stock of the place. “Would have to be under a major offshoot of the Kingsriver or Lethe. Too much water for anything else.”

  “Lethe.” Hales eyes narrowed as he peered across the cavern. “You can tell because Hell’s architect hasn’t touched the place. Completely natural.”

  Turi had lucked out, Pyle surmised. If he had tried this escape just a month ago, this place would have been one long easy run. As it was, the boy might end up gaining some ground by the end of it. It was hard even to see through the chamber. The waterfalls pouring down the rock and free falling from the ceiling filled the air with mist. That mist clung to the walls, too, making them dangerously slippery.

  Who knows, one of us might even fall to our death?

  Pyle looked down from the ledge.

  Jesus.

  The cavern remained sheer as it hit the water level. The water itself was a churning mass, running as fast as any rapid. In places it was being drained away, creating huge whirlpools. Jagged rocks thrust themselves up out of the churning abyss, seeming almost to bob in the tremendous currents, fading in and out of view as the mists moved. There would be no swimming in that sea, Pyle knew, and any fall was likely to be deadly.

  “Let’s race across,” Pyle yelled. “Leave the dog.”

  “No!” Came Sinna’s response.

  “We’ll need it if he makes it to the far side.” Hale agreed with her, of course. “There’s an exit to Giant’s tunnel over there, just left of that waterfall. If he makes it, we’ll need to be able to track him.”

  “Well, I’m not carrying him,” Pyle shouted back.

  “Of course not.”

  Hale lowered his pack and took out a stone jar. Two of the Carrion soldiers grabbed the hound by its legs and forced it on its back. Hale knelt on the hound’s throat and grabbed its jaws. The hellhound’s eyes were wild, and the beast gnawed uselessly at Hale’s hands.

  Hale poured the liquid into its mouth, shifting his knee along the thing’s throat. Some of the potion was sputtered out, but some had to have been swallowed. Hale worked quickly to bind the hound.

  Pyle walked around the ledge which they stood upon, checking the walls. He found some of Turi’s blood on the left side.

  “Here he was,” Pyle reported. “It looks like he climbed straight up from here.”

  “Why would he do that?” A Carrion soldier asked.

  “Waterline,” Pyle answered. “Look up there. As you get higher you get drier. Easier climbing that way.”

  Hale had managed to attach the hound to his back. The man’s pack had been designed with that purpose in mind.

  Brilliant bastards, Maab’s men.

  “There he is!” Sinna ran forward, pointing along the wall.

  One of the Carrion soldiers lifted his shotgun.

  An excellent weapon for the labyrinth, but it won’t do you much good here. Boy’s out of range.

  The man didn’t even get off a shot. The boy had disappeared from view, hiding in a crevasse.

  But the blood was on the left?

  The boy must have climbed up and over the entrance. If they hadn’t just spotted him, Pyle would have led them the long way around.

  Smart little bastard.

  The cavern turned too, just slightly towards the right, as it went on. That bend in the wall was going to protect Turi as he made his way down Giant’s Tunnel.

  “We have a plan?” Sinna’s voice squeaked.

  “He picked the correct route, and he’s about an hour ahead of us,” Hale pointed out. “We’re not going to have a good shot at him until he makes it to the back. I remember there being a ledge over there. It’s right at the bend. If the settling hasn’t made it crumble, we can set up there and get a clear shot at him as he tries to get out.”

  Pyle spat over the ledge. “The settling may have made more exits.”

  His spit disappeared into the mists.

  “Let’s hope not.” Hale cinched a rope around his waist tightly enough to make the half-comatose hound on his back yelp. “We’ll have him trapped unless it has.”

  Sinna said something to the man, but Pyle couldn’t hear it over the water.

  Hale turned back to Pyle and the Carrion men. “The water will cover the noise of our guns, so we don’t have to worry about a quick retreat after we fire.”

  Sinna paced back and forth. “It’s better if we capture him.”

  Hale nodded in agreement. “If we get to the ledge fast enough, he’ll have to climb across our field of fire to make it out. We can shoot in front of him to try and get him to come on back. If not, or if he doesn’t respond, then he dies.”

  “Let’s hope he doesn’t,” Sinna yelled. “He’s been marked by Maab. And he’s pissed me off enough that I have half a mind to strap on a cock and be the first to greet him on the stone bed. The Kruks will have to wait in line for me.”

  Pyle imagined her slipping, falling along the wall. The rocks would break her bones as she hit them. Maybe one jagged outcropping would pierce her skin, punching through the ribs at her chest and letting blood spill into her lungs. She would tumble farther down, bones shattering and bruises accumulating until she hit the bottom, tainting the water with the froth of her blood before the suction pulled her under and bashed her to death upon the cavern floor.

  Bitch.

  Hale took to the wall, climbing as if he weren’t weighed down by a hundred pound hellhound.

  Fucker’s drank too much of the Minotaur blood.

  Hale looked down at them. “Our plan only works if we make it to the ledge before he gets to the exit.”

  Sinna walked behind Pyle and pushed him forward. “You’re next,” she said, her delicate mouth pulled up into
a smile.

  She smiles like my sister.

  “Galen,” the warrior announced just moments before he stormed into the room.

  Aaron had never seen the man so angry.

  Jesus, where’s Turi?

  Avery sat up, bending to try and see behind Galen. “Tell me you took him home.” Avery’s eyes were suddenly clouded over with passion.

  Galen shook his head.

  Avery slammed his fist into the stone.

  Aaron hadn’t realized how much the boy had meant to Avery. Johnny Huang was also sitting up now, and like Avery, he made no attempt at stoicism.

  “What happened?” Huang asked, “Is he—”

  “Maab’s got him.” Galen tossed his pack into the wall and then knelt before it.

  Duncan was awake now as well, looking confused. Only Kyle remained unconscious, and he had every right to.

  Maab. Klein was once one of her slaves.

  “What happened?” Aaron asked.

  “I got in there and met my friend.” Galen loaded a few rounds into his Heckler and Koch clip. “I thought Arturus would be safe. I’d put him in a back corner while the ritual was going on. He spotted Julian in the crowd. He did the right thing, I feel, and tried to rescue him. It didn’t work out.”

  Aaron noticed that Galen’s hands were shaking.

  Is it anger that makes him shake, or fatigue? Has he slept since we got here? He must have, it’s probably been five days.

  “Has it been five days since we left Harpsborough?” Aaron asked aloud.

  Galen nodded. “We’re probably already bricked in. If not, it will happen shortly.”

  Aaron felt the breath go out of the room.

  Avery struggled to his knees. “We get the boy first. Then we worry about getting home.”

  Galen stopped rustling through his pack and looked at the hunter.

  Aaron saw that Johnny was nodding. Duncan at first looked unsure, but his expression hardened, and then his head began to nod as well.

  “That’s right,” Aaron said. “We can’t leave him behind, but Avery, you can’t walk. As far as I know only I can.”

  Johnny Huang stood up. He grimaced, but the effect was convincing.

  “Okay,” Aaron conceded. “Johnny, you’re good too.”

  Galen loaded the clip back into his MP5.

  “Do we have a plan?” Aaron asked the warrior.

  “Yes. The Carrion people are breaking up from their ritual. They’re heading back into their separate hiding holes. We hit one of the groups, kill everyone but their leader and find out where he is.”

  Aaron joined Johnny in flanking Galen as they left the chamber.

  “We’ll be back soon boys,” Aaron assured them. “Don’t you worry.”

  “Hey!” Avery called.

  They stopped in the doorway.

  “Yeah, what’s up?” Aaron asked.

  “Good hunting.”

  The six Carrion warriors were spread out on the rocks around him. Sinna was a bit higher than the rest. Pyle hadn’t expected her to be such a good climber. If she wanted, she could have outdistanced them all. Maybe not Hale, if he was unencumbered, but as it was he had a hundred or so pounds of dead weight strapped to his back. As Pyle watched, one of the hound’s legs twitched.

  Almost dead weight, anyway.

  Pyle couldn’t blame Hale for choosing the lower route. It had certainly looked promising. Even with the trouble they were having, they would still probably save time crossing the cavern’s bend. If Hale was right, and the settling hadn’t taken out the ledge he spoke of, they should be able to rest in just a few minutes. The stone here was slippery, however, and Pyle would be surprised if they all made it across Giant’s Tunnel alive. For the first few hundred feet his fear had masked the pain. Now he was too tired to be afraid.

  He had to be careful when he looked for handholds using his right hand. Two of his nails were missing, and the pain would blind him if the tops of his fingertips touched the stone. Sometimes he didn’t even have a choice. The swelling on his forehead throbbed mercilessly, giving him a pounding headache and making the world swim around him.

  He saw the hound kick again.

  It’s starting to wake up.

  Hale was looking over his shoulder in alarm. The hound was enough of a burden asleep. Awake, its unbalancing movements could well cost the Carrion man his life.

  “We’re coming around the bend,” Hale shouted. “Keep your eyes sharp.”

  The man wasn’t lying. Pyle could see more and more of Giant Tunnel’s back wall as they climbed. It would not be long before Turi would be exposed.

  “I see the ledge!” Sinna’s shriek sent spasms of pain pulsing through Pyle’s head. “The settling didn’t take it.”

  Hale shouted something else, but a waterfall was streaming down from the ceiling right next to him, so his voice was lost in the din.

  Pyle did his best to use the same handholds Hale had. The settling and the water had weakened the rock enough that some of the more promising outcroppings couldn’t hold his weight.

  The ones that can handle Hale and the hound should be fine for me.

  Pyle stopped. The next section of stone was particularly smooth, and a small stream, perhaps three feet across, made sure that it would be slick as well.

  Now how did Hale make it across that?

  He took a deep breath and looked out across the cavern.

  He could see the right corner of the back wall now, and the ledge wasn’t too far away either. Pyle looked back the way he’d come. It certainly wasn’t any distance at all compared to how far they’d climbed already. He glanced down to the churning sea below him.

  Jesus.

  “I see him!” One of the soldiers shouted.

  “Where?” Hale had found a solid foothold and was leaning back to get a better view.

  “Near the corner, about a hundred feet over.”

  Pyle saw the young boy for just a second, moving across the stones.

  He’s almost at the bottom.

  Turi was in trouble now. He was going to have to climb up nearly an eighth of a mile, climb sideways nearly twice as far, and then cross the tremendous waterfall before he could make it to the exit. And all of that had to be done while nominally within the range of the Carrion shooters.

  We’ve got you boy.

  He turned his attention back to the climb. Hale must have used a handhold on the other side of the stream. Pyle gritted his teeth and shoved his right hand deep into a crevasse. His arm shook with his agony as his unprotected fingertips were pressed into the sharp rock. Tears formed in his eyes. Pyle shook his head to clear it, reaching out with his left hand to try and find something to grip across the water.

  He tried one prospect, but the stone was slick, and at a bad angle. If he were to put all his weight on that stone, he would surely fall. Blood trickled down his forearm, coming from his fingertips and collecting in the crease by his elbow.

  Whatever pain I feel, Turi is feeling it worse. He’s got bleeding feet, no food, no chance for sleep, and he’s all alone.

  The sound of a stone skittering across the wall caught Pyle’s attention. Pyle blinked away the tears from his eyes. At first he thought the rock had come from above him, from one of the Carrion soldiers, but a second rock flew in. It was definitely coming from out there in the cavern. Pyle looked across to the far wall. He couldn’t see much because much of his vision was blocked by the waterfall which had drowned out Hale’s speech earlier.

  Then he saw another stone, coming from the back right corner of Giant’s Tunnel, sailing through the air at them. It got caught in the falling water and disappeared.

  “Is that coming from the boy?” Sinna shouted.

  “Yeah,” Pyle answered.

  “Kid’s got one hell of an arm,” one of the soldiers noted.

  Fucking idiot.

  “Kid’s got a sling,” Pyle shouted back.

  “Where’d he get a sling?”

  “His robe, may
be.” Pyle watched the next rock.

  It wasn’t aimed for them. Turi was firing at the far wall.

  “Can he hurt us with it?” the soldier asked.

  “He’s got pebbles, not sling bullets,” Pyle squinted his eyes, trying to focus his blurry vision on the far wall. “His aim’s going to be bad. And the air will take the speed out of his throws anyway.”

  “Well, why’s he throwing them?”

  If you’d shut the fuck up for a minute I might be able to figure it out.

  He saw another of Turi’s slingstones. He watched it travel through a maze of falling water to impact again with the far wall. Pyle searched around that area. He saw something move.

  Dyitzu.

  There were two of them, traveling along a ledge across from them. Pyle could tell that they weren’t sure where the sling stones were coming from.

  Turi’s next shot was back towards Pyle’s direction. The dyitzu watched the rock fly.

  That little shit.

  “Move!” Pyle shouted.

  He searched fervently for another handhold with his left hand. He didn’t find anything promising. He reached out with his foot, trying to find a crevasse he could jam it into.

  The first few dyitzu’s fireballs were already coming. One buried itself in the waterfall, but another just clipped it. Half extinguished, the remaining ball of dyitzu fire spun out of control until it slammed into the side of the cavern.

  “Use the water for cover,” Hale ordered.

  More of the fire came shooting in, missing by a wide margin. The next set was closer, though, and one fireball landed right above Pyle.

  Fuck.

  Pyle reached into the stream itself and found a handhold. He pulled his body into the water. His left foot found some support, and he used it to let go with his left hand and search for another handhold.

  There, that’s what Hale must have found.

  He tried to get a good grip, but his fingers, now slippery, couldn’t cling to it. More fire came in, impacting above him. Some of the fire was mixing with the water there and began streaming down towards him.

  Pyle tried another hold, but the stones fell away. Steaming water and dyitzu fire poured over his right hand, singeing his unprotected fingertips. A scream escaped from Pyle, but he dared not let go. He remembered burning his face off.