The Underworld (Rhyn Eternal)

by Lizzy Ford

  There was too much to sort through, especially now, and he dug through the chaos of his mind to find the bond to the underworld.

  The underworld – his underworld – needed him. It was the first and only logical place to start.

  “How long does this take?” he asked, touching his head, somewhat off balance with the activity in his mind. It was distracting his senses, turning his attention inward when it needed to be focused on the threats he faced from the external world.

  “I’m not sure,” she replied.

  Gabriel shook his head and realized they’d stopped walking and were waiting at a door. Drawing a knife, he took her hand and squeezed, then opened the door. “Stay here. If anything happens to her, demon, there is nothing the Dark One can do to you that will be worse than what I do,” he warned.

  “Very well,” Jared said unhappily.

  He stepped onto the flat roof of the palace, not surprised to see four death dealers pacing around the perimeter. With the buzzing in his mind, it was harder than usual to focus. He tried to recall the names of the sentries and shook out his shoulders, aware he was about to make his first move as the official ruler of his domain.

  The sky was cloudy, the wind cold and stiff. Gabriel sheathed the weapon and approached the first guard, who froze the moment he caught sight of him.

  Gabriel kept his distance. “You get one shot at this,” he said calmly. “A quick death followed by mercy. Or –”

  The death dealer drew his weapon and charged with a shout.

  “– we can do it this way.” With a grunt, Gabriel whipped out his daggers and threw up a block deftly, aware of the other sentries running from their positions across the roof towards him. With two strikes and a block, Gabriel beheaded the first man and knelt, calling his soul to him.

  The green gem materialized in his palm, and he rose to confront the three attackers hovering a safe distance from him with raised swords.

  “Everyone gets a choice,” he boomed at the three and held up the gem. Was he shouting because of the stiff wind or to hear above the buzzing in his head? “To reaffirm their allegiance to me and be granted what mercy Death is willing to offer. Or …” He crushed the soul in his hand, the green powder turning black as it was picked up by the breeze. “… continue down the path leading to no mercy and a special place in Hell.”

  Two of them sized him up while the third lowered his sword and appeared ready to run. Gabriel guessed who would do what a moment before the two attacked, their swords flashing in the weak sun. Trained and honed for fighting over thousands of years, his powerful body responded instinctively, and within seconds, both men were dead.

  Gabriel eyed the third man, who was close enough to strike him, if he bent to collect the souls of the others. “Made your choice?”

  “Mercy.” The man placed his sword on the ground and knelt.

  “Good.” If one of every four laid down their swords, he had a slim chance of taking back his palace. Gabriel sheathed his knives and withdrew his sword. With a single blow, he removed the death dealer’s head and then knelt, collecting the soul. This one he tucked in his pocket to toss into the Lake, then shifted over to the other two.

  The buzz was maddening. Gabriel closed his eyes for a moment of relative peace. The flow of knowledge was waning, turning from a flood into a stream. It was almost over.

  He rose, did away with the souls of the remaining dead assassins, and then turned to face the direction he’d come.

  “Harmony,” he growled.

  The redhead was flanked by no less than two dozen loyal dealers, all armed to the teeth. There were slashes across one of her cheeks, as if she’d gotten into a fight with an animal. Gabriel studied her before letting his gaze drift over the others gathered. He recognized nearly every one of them. This time, instead of regret, he experienced only a flare of anger at those who chose to betray their sacred duty to the souls.

  I was chosen. He repeated silently. In all he’d ever done, he’d never abandoned the souls the way they had.

  Without a shred of fear, he approached the death dealers, stopping when the two on either side of Harmony drew their swords. Harmony appeared hard, cold, her pretty features unyielding.

  “This is the end, Gabriel,” she started.

  “It is, Harmony,” he agreed. “I am the rightful master of the underworld. I know you’ve been operating under a lack of faith in me as the underworld’s choice of Death. Because of who I am and the relationship I shared as a colleague with you, I want to offer you and your dealers a final chance to stand down.”

  “Mercy is a human trait,” Harmony replied firmly. “You lack the strength and the mindset required to be Death. I’m going make things right.”

  Gabriel didn’t let her words sink in. After many lifetimes as the top assassin for Death, he knew better than to believe such nonsense. “I’ll take that as a no,” he said. Raising his voice, he addressed those with her. “Does she speak for all of you? If not, step forward.”

  He was greeted by silence.

  Harmony started to smile. “My turn for an ultimatum.”

  Gabriel waited, making a show of shifting his armament around to prepare for a brutal battle with those before him. He’d faced down more than this before, demons even. His reputation was known far and wide, and he was going to use every ounce of it to dissuade those he could from fighting him.

  “You stand down. Hand over the title of Death, and I’ll let you leave this place alive,” she said.

  Gabriel hefted the long sword strapped to his back and gazed at the blade. “No can do, Harmony.”

  “There are over six hundred of us!”

  “Not a problem.”

  Harmony frowned at him. “If you think your friends can help you, Gabe, think again. No, in fact, look again.” She pointed.

  Gabriel glanced where he indicated, and his gaze stuck. “You awoke the ogre?” he demanded. “There’s a reason past-Death didn’t wake them when the demons invaded. If you brought them out of hibernation to take care of a few men …” He shook his head.

  The massive creature gradually moving towards the palace wasn’t all that that caught his attention. It was trailed by a storm unlike anything he’d ever seen. It appeared to be uprooting and swallowing the forest as it grew nearer. The sky at its core was black, the swirling clouds and dark fog enveloping everything in their path. Tendrils of blackness shot forward to grab trees and haul itself closer. It was neither a true storm nor a true monster, but some kind of twisted hybrid, something that didn’t belong in the underworld. Gabriel faced the direction fully, unable to explain the horrific sight.

  “What else did you wake up, Harmony?” he asked, his concern for his safety eclipsed by the storm that looked powerful enough to shred the underworld.

  With the flow of knowledge lessening, he was able to make out the faint cry of alarm of the Lake of Souls echoing in its thoughts. The storm came from the opposite direction, but if it wasn’t stopped, it’d suck up the Lake and its souls easily.

  “Harmony, what did you do?” he demanded.

  “Take it or leave it,” Harmony said, ignoring him.

  Gabriel faced her, disturbed. “There won’t be an underworld to rule over, if you don’t stop whatever it is you did!”

  “I need an answer, Gabriel.”

  “I will hand deliver the soul of anyone who raises a sword to me to the Dark One,” Gabriel replied. “That is my answer.”

  Harmony lifted her chin to the man beside her. He signaled the largest men among her loyal flock forward. Gabriel stretched his neck and lowered himself into a fighting stance, ready to knock the head off of every man they threw at him.

  I am Death. No one takes what’s mine.

  Suddenly, Jared appeared, shoved out of the invisible doorway leading to the secret passageways that Gabriel had come through as well. The demon landed hard on his knees in the space between Harmony and Gabriel then bounced up, looking around.

  “What the fuck, Jar
ed?” Gabriel snapped.

  “Just thought you might need … back up,” the demon said, gaze settling on the death dealers.

  Gabriel snatched him and dragged him close. “Where’s my mate?”

  “Relax. She’s safe in the walls.”

  Gabriel sought any sign the demon was lying. His instinct told him Jared wasn’t. “Try not to damage my extremely rare weapons, asshole.”

  Jared offered a grimace and pried himself loose, stepping aside to draw his weapon.

  “This is your plan?” Harmony looked between them, amused. “A cowardly demon and a former human to take on the might of Death’s army?”

  “Death’s army has been disbanded,” Gabriel replied. “You all are traitors now. I’ll rebuild after I collect everyone’s head and soul.”

  “Have it your way.” Harmony turned away. “Bring in the rest!”

  The entrances to the roof opened in unison, and death dealers spilled out, surrounding Gabriel and Jared.

  “I’m really not much for fighting. At least, not when they have weapons and can fight back,” the demon said. “If they’re alone in a dark alley with no weapon, it’s different.”

  Gabriel glanced at him, none too pleased at his choice of companion, before finding Harmony again with his gaze. “You’re not staying for the victory, Harmony?” he called after her.

  “No need. We’ve caught your friends. I’m going to personally render them dead-dead then come back for your head.”

  Gabriel’s jaw clenched. It didn’t seem possible that Rhyn would be taken alive, and he didn’t know what damage the ogre might’ve inflicted on the handful of loyal death dealers that remained. His mate was safe, but he didn’t know what had happened to human-Deidre, Andre, Darkyn, Rhyn …

  “You have a plan, right?” the demon asked.

  “Can you shapeshift?”

  “Not without the portal to Hell being opened.”

  “That’s not happening.” Gabriel whirled his sword and took a step towards the death dealers inching closer. “The plan is to not get killed until I come up with a better one.”

  “This is a good plan.”

  Sensing the creature was mocking him, Gabriel glanced over. The demon appeared as sincere as a demon could, and it dawned on him there was probably a reason Jared routinely ended up in dungeons.

  Figures I got the shittiest demon in Hell at my back.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Something’s wrong,” past-Death said moments earlier, pushing away from the wall in the dark passageway. “He should’ve been back by now.”

  “Stay put, cupcake. I like my head where it is,” Jared growled.

  She fingered the hilt of the knife at her waist. A familiar, blue-green glimmer caught her attention, and she peered into the darkness. It was leading away from the roof, back down the hallway. The glow had tried to lead her somewhere before and appeared to be waiting for her again.

  Fate had identified the deity that died in the dungeon as Peace. Since entering the cell, she’d been haunted by something, perhaps the deity itself in some sort of dreamwalk form. If there was one deity that could end this chaos, it was this one. How was it possible for it to be alive when she’d seen the bones?

  “Will you at least peek out and check on him?” she asked.

  “I did a moment ago. He was killing the sentries. He should be done and the roof clear by now.”

  “Look again.”

  The demon grumbled something.

  “Please,” she added.

  Jared opened the door. The relative brightness of the underworld blinded her.

  “Take care of him, demon.” Past-Death closed her eyes and shoved him out of the passageway. “I need to do something.” She slammed the door closed and stood blinking until the sunspots left her vision.

  Turning, she spotted the green-blue glow once more and strode after it. The stones scraped and groaned as the passageway molded into a new direction, one she wasn’t dictating. Past-Death drew a dagger and continued into the darkness, heart pounding.

  A doorway appeared. She slowed and approached it with some angst, uncertain how much to trust the spirit of a deity she accidentally killed in the dungeon. With a deep breath, she stepped through …

  … and into the hallway of the subfloor above the dungeon.

  The burst of color was halfway down the hall already, past the room teeming with death dealers where Jared had slaughtered several earlier. If they noticed her, if any one of them decided to leave the room before she passed them and reached the stairwell … her hands shook and she wiped sweat from her brow.

  For Gabriel.

  Steeling herself, past-Death moved quickly down the hallway on tiptoes. She sucked in a breath and held it as she darted by the open doorway packed with death dealers. A quick glance made her think they had recently returned from the battle outside.

  She raced down the hallway and caught her small frame against the wall of the stairwell before descending fast. Past-Death waited to hear the sound of pursuit, for someone to figure out she was there. None came, and she stopped at the bottom of the stairs, scouring the area for any sign of the glow.

  The sound of a cell slamming made her gut twist. She ducked into the nearest open cell and pressed herself against the inner wall, out of view of anyone passing. Three death dealers trotted by her. She waited for their footpads on the stairs to cease before easing out of the cell.

  The glow was in front of the cell the dealers had just closed. It disappeared through the petrified wood door. Past-Death went to it and stopped.

  “Hello?” she called, hitting the door with the flat of her hand. “Can anyone hear me?”

  A muffled sound came from the other side.

  “I can’t hear you!” she said more loudly, gaze darting towards the direction the dealers had gone.

  “Yes.” This time, the voice was clearer. “We’re here.” It sounded like a woman’s voice, and her heart soared at the thought she’d found Deidre at last.

  Past-Death leaned back and pulled the keys she’d kept from her pockets. She tried both of them without success and cursed.

  “Just … wait,” she said lamely and took a step back.

  There was no way she’d be able to get the keys, unless she dreamwalked. But doing so meant she wasn’t able to control how long she was out. Worse, she’d be exposed, if the dealers returned.

  “There must be some benefit in being the mate of a god!” she complained, pacing. Hearing the words aloud, Past-Death whirled and faced the door.

  Gabriel had officially taken his place as Death. By all rights, and from what she knew of Immortal and deity mates, she should have access to some of his power.

  “When I was Death …” she trailed off and placed her hand against the petrified wood of the cell door. To her delight, she heard the sound of the lock being drawn. Past-Death pushed the door open. “Hello?”

  There were three forms in the cell, two of which she knew. Andre the Immortal, and Tymkyn, once her best tracker. The third, Karma, was the woman she’d seen Deidre leave with, a creature that made her retreat farther into the hallway.

  They were staring at her in different levels of wariness. Tymkyn appeared disbelieving, Karma distrusting and Andre’s brow was furrowed. He sat with his back to the far wall, blood drenching his clothing.

  The glow she’d followed to the dungeon was perched on Andre’s shoulder. In the silence that followed the door opening, past-Death gazed at it hard, not quite understanding why it had led her to the prisoners when she was looking for Peace.

  “Where’s Deidre?” she asked, pulling her focus from her mind.

  “Gone,” Karma said sadly.

  “Not dead!”

  “No,” Andre said and got to his feet with some difficulty. “She went after Darkyn.”

  “So there are two demons loose somewhere in my underworld,” past-Death said, uncertain what to think. Gabriel’s underworld. Whatever.

  Tymkyn started to smile then
ducked his head. He moved towards Andre and wrapped an arm around the Immortal.

  The blue-green glow was sticking with Andre, at least until he stepped foot outside the cell, at which point it darted down the hallway.

  Past-Death moved for them to exit the cell, puzzled. She turned to follow the glow with her gaze and saw it disappear into the cell that once held the deity.

  “Where’s Gabe?” Tymkyn asked.

  “Roof. Fighting sentries,” she replied, distracted. “Wait here for a moment.” Past-Death trotted down the hallway towards the locked door. She placed her hand against it and waited for the lock to click before pushing.

  The glow was settling back where she’d originally found it, on the ring located at the center of the pile of bones. Crossing to the remains, she bent to retrieve the ring and straightened, peering at it.

  “You’ve been following me around, haven’t you?” she murmured. “You led me to them and back here again. Any chance you’ll just appear and fix everything?”

  Nothing happened.

  Was it possible a godship could be passed through a relic such as the ring? She didn’t have the memories to know for certain, but something about this ring had gone out of its way to find her, take her to the three in the cell, sit on Andre’s shoulder and bring her back here.

  “Deidre?” Karma called. “We must leave.”

  She pocketed the ring and left. The three waited in the hallway, and she hurried to them, thoughts racing with options on how to help them leave.

  Footsteps and the sound of rustling weapons and armor from the direction of the stairs made them freeze. Past-Death tried to determine how many came. It sounded like much more than the four of them could face with no weapons and one wounded.

  “Hide,” she whispered. “We have to hide. Maybe we can throw them off and run.”

  “Better idea,” Tymkyn said and motioned her forward. “I will not face Gabriel’s wrath if you get hurt on my watch. Take the Immortal.” Carefully, he helped stabilize Andre while past-Deidre replaced him supporting the wounded man. “I’ve seen what this little girl can do.” Tymkyn motioned to Karma. “You two hide, and we’ll take care of them.”