by Sunny
"Cursed Light!" Gilford exclaimed softly. "So what the other prisoners said about her is true — that she is two people in one."
Apparently Juan and Charles had tattled on me. So much for loyalty, I thought.
You are a fool if you expected anything more from them, replied Mona Louisa.
What about you, with your four men who are no longer your men? You still expect their loyalty.
That is one of the many points where we differ. You are wrong. I do not expect loyalty from them. There is only one rule here, and that is ensuring your own survival. All other cares and concerns or feelings do not matter.
Not even Miles? I asked. I can feel your affection for him.
Not even Miles.
But I was inside her. Part of her truly believed what she was saying, another part of her was not quite so sure anymore. I caught her thought: that she had expected to be roped and bound with the other prisoners. But Miles made no move to do so. Neither did the other three men.
Calling a halt, Pietrus walked to us with a heavy tread. The bull dheu was an odd mix of both beauty and horror now with his coarsened features covered by smooth, unblemished skin. A preview of what Miles and the others would look like soon. They were already taller, and thicker bone structure had already begun to alter their faces and body builds, but no horns sprouted yet from their heads, and their skin tones were lighter than the mud-brown leathery coloring of the others.
"Bind her," Pietrus said.
"There is no need," Miles said. "She will not try to escape."
Pietrus froze into ominous stillness, obviously surprised that Miles had challenged his order. Both Mona Louisa and I held our breath.
Your man Miles doesn't seem to share the same sentiment about ensuring his own survival first, I noted.
He is a reckless fool. But I felt her gratitude toward him — that he would risk himself for her when she could no longer offer him any benefit in return.
To our surprise, Pietrus didn't strike Miles down with his huge fist or draw his sword. Maybe it was the intelligence gleaming in those eyes now, noting Rupert's, Gilford's, and Demetrius's waiting tenseness, and that the three more senior bull dheus were a significant distance away.
"If she tries to escape, I will cut off your head and feed it to the desert scavengers," Pietrus said before returning back to the front of the line.
A collective breath eased out from all of us.
"I will not try to escape," Mona Louisa promised quietly.
"I know," said Miles. And perhaps he knew her better than I gave him credit for, because he added, "There is nothing out here in these barren lands for you, milady. Your best chance of survival lies with our lord."
CHAPTER TEN
The High Lord didn't reopen the gate so much as cut open a new doorway through the sealed passage. Walking from Hell to NetherHell was like passing through a thick, suffocating force of immense pressure and utter darkness. Then some of the pressure eased and the absence of light faded away. They were met with a blaze of reddish light when they stepped out onto the other side and found themselves atop a ledge of a steep mountain cliff. Two odd-shaped suns glowed down on them in terrifying brightness. Gryphon cried out, expecting to feel the stinging bite of light upon his skin. But there was none.
"The light here cannot hurt you," Halcyon reassured him.
"I saw what sunlight did to you in the living realm. It might not sting anymore, but I know that it can soften demon flesh."
"The living sun does. Not Samice and Samm, the two suns here."
"How the fuck do you know?" Gryphon demanded.
"For a moment, you sounded just like Mona Lisa," Halcyon said. "And I know because demons used to walk this realm."
Gryphon's panic ebbed a little. "I didn't expect it to be this bright."
"One of the lures of this place. To walk in light once more and not fear it. We learned too late that it is the place itself that we should fear."
"Enough morbid talk. What do we do now that we are here?"
"We climb down this cliff," Halcyon said, suiting words to action. "And we let our bodies adjust to the denser atmosphere here. One of the many unpleasant aspects of this place, this thickened air. Some noted in the old journals that it was like swimming through honey. Likening it to mud would be far more accurate."
Now that he mentioned it, Gryphon became aware of a soft, pulling resistance on his limbs as he climbed down after Halcyon. "It feels more like honey to me. Not that uncomfortable."
"Your newer transitioned state. The discomfort is felt less by the younger dead."
Gryphon shot him a grim smile. "So you feel your age here, do you, old man?"
Halcyon grunted, and concentrated on the downward climb. When they reached the base of the cliff, they found themselves on a mountain that was jungle thick with plants and foliage. They began walking, Halcyon moving in an awkward fashion, completely without his usual fluid grace. Gryphon was affected much less so, walking almost normally. He soon found himself unexpectedly in the lead and stopped, waiting for Halcyon.
"Go on," Halcyon said, waving him on.
"It's pointless for me to lead. I don't know where I'm going."
"Neither do I."
"What?"
Reaching Gryphon, the Demon Prince dropped to the ground, resting for a moment. "It has been almost a millennia since my people walked this realm. Records from that time are scarce. Even were they abundant and detailed, things may have changed greatly."
"So what is our plan? And please say that there is one."
Halcyon gave a small, tired smile. "A vague one. The separate regions of this land were ruled by different warlords. That type of structure remained stable during the time my people roamed these lands. Presuming that things haven't changed much — and yes, I know that is a big assumption — my plan is to find one of these regions and look for Mona Lisa there."
"And how many warlords were there?"
"Six, though that —"
" — may have changed," Gryphon finished for him. "Six." Gryphon blew out a breath. "Damnation. We don't have enough time to search through six different territories."
"We probably won't have to. Our best bet is to search the nearest one. Mona Lisa will likely be there."
"And where might that be, oh lord and master?"
"Your guess is as good as mine, my friend." Halcyon rose to his feet, and they continued walking.
Two separate and equally difficult tasks faced them. Finding Mona Lisa. And bringing her back before the gate closed to them forever. Unspoken between Halcyon and Gryphon was that while they might accomplish the first task, given enough time, the second was far less likely in the brief amount of time they had. But even with the burden of that knowledge, the thicker air, the unnervingly bright sunshine, it was impossible not to see and appreciate NetherHell's strange and savage beauty. The foliage was different from any Gryphon had ever seen.
Some plants were edged with spines, others tipped with thorny leaves that were lavishly colored purple, burgundy, or black. Other vegetation appeared orange or crimson-red like the scarlet sky. It all bedazzled the eyes — eyes that had dwelled in twilight darkness for over a month now.
The animals that inhabited this realm were as equally strange, savage, and bizarre. He caught glimpses of ratlike creatures that hopped like rabbits on hind legs through the thick foliage and dense brush. One hissed at him, displaying a jagged row of sharp teeth. But it was the bigger creatures that proved the most dangerous.
A large, orange-furred beast vaguely resembling a giant sloth leaped out at him. Purple fur lined the animal's back and formed striped patches over the animal's eyes. Its brows and belly were yellow, blending it perfectly among the bright leaves of the foliage where it had been concealed. Long black claws tipped its giant paws, and its snout was short and blunt instead of thin and long. Another big difference was the huge teeth and sharp aggression of the animal. It moved with wicked quickness, springing at Gryphon. With a cry, he fell back an
d rolled on the ground. A powerful jaw snapped shut much too close for comfort.
It wasn't anything Gryphon did that saved him. It was Halcyon who came to his rescue. The Demon Prince may have been struggling physically in this new and strange environment, but his mental power was unimpaired. Psychic energy swelled on the thick air, gathered like a hard invisible fist, and punched the giant creature, tossing it away from Gryphon. It squealed, grunted with pain, and loped away through the thick foliage at an awkward canter.
"Thank you for your timely intervention," Gryphon said, picking himself up off the ground. "Good thing you came along, I guess. Do all older demons retain their mental strength here?"
"Most do, not all."
"Yet you stepped toward it, not away, when you did not know if you had the means to fight the creature."
Halcyon shrugged. "It moved faster than I could; no use trying to outrun it. My only option was to stand and fight."
"Or let it eat me. and slip away while it was busy feasting on my flesh."
"Mona Lisa would kill me if I let that happen," Halcyon said dryly.
"You're already dead. So am I, for that matter."
"There's dead. And then there is true death," Halcyon said, offering Gryphon a hand up.
"Well, here's to staying in the first state and avoiding the second one. So how are you feeling?"
"I am better, less tired. My body is adapting slowly."
"Well, tell it to hurry up."
"As you wish," Halcyon said with a smile that made Gryphon realize how out of character he was behaving. Quick, glib remarks were less his style and more Mona Lisa's. Caution had been the hallmark of his previous self. Caution in what he said, what he did, even what he thought. The only time he had stepped away from that lifelong caution was when he had met her, Mona Lisa, and wanted her above all else, even his safety. Some of his confusion must have shown on his face.
"Your new demon nature is more aggressive, less controlled," Halcyon said. "Being in NetherHell brings that out more."
"It doesn't seem to affect you."
Halcyon shrugged. "It affects me as well, just not as obviously. One benefit of my greater age."
"So you become evil less quickly here," Gryphon said.
Halcyon took a long moment before answering. "Let's say that I am more slowly amenable to its influence. But, eventually, it will have just as marked an effect upon me also."
"Great," Gryphon said. "Then let's get going. Time, as they say, is a wasting." It certainly wasn't their friend.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
One moment, nothing, just a vast rolling stretch of barren, dry land. Then we dipped down a valley, ascended a rocky rise and suddenly, spread out before us was this huge metropolis encircled entirely by walls. From where we stood, we could glimpse the tiny movements of the crowded populace that dwelled inside. In the center of that walled city lay a large golden lake.
"Is that water?" Mona Louisa asked — her words, my thought. The odd brilliant gold color of the water threw us both.
"Yes, the only water source available for a two-days' journey," Miles said. He passed a skinned water pouch to her, almost as if he knew the sight of water would trigger her thirst. Sure enough, it did, an almost unbearable urge rising. Hands trembling, she pulled out the cork stopper and drank. Sweet liquid wetness splashed down our throat.
The other bull dheus stopped and gulped down water also. The prisoners moaned at the sight of us quenching our thirst. Whips lashed out, and no more sounds were heard.
Mona Louisa poured some of the liquid out into her cupped hand. The water glittered yellow gold. She handed the water skin back to Miles. As he drank, she turned back to study the sprawling city down below.
A huge palace was erected closest to the water, occupying almost an entire side. The other half of the lake was edged more distantly by tall terraced buildings and round domed homes. More houses and buildings fanned out from there in an orderly mass. Lush plants and spiky palm trees were sprinkled like colorful jewels among the buildings. It was a most unexpectedly colorful and crowded oasis.
"Our city-state," Miles said, slinging the water pouch back over his shoulder.
A city-state indeed. Much more sophisticated and larger than what Mona Louisa or I had imagined from the bull dheus' primitive appearance.
The two suns had set, and three moons had risen in their place when we finally reached the closed gate. Up close, the walls that had seemed so tiny in the distance loomed tall above us, over thirty feet high. At a shout from Pietrus, the metal gate swung open with a creaking groan. We marched inside.
Traveling down the wide central street, we caught glimpses of men and women, but no children anywhere. The people, unlike the guards manning the battlements, were of normal size with lightly tanned skins, not the dark leathery hide of the bull dheus. But all had the same barnacle growths covering their skin. The women wore veils but the men's faces were left uncovered. All looked hideous, no matter how prosperous-looking or beautiful their attire. They had the bored look of city people who had seen it all, and scarcely glanced at the prisoners as they shuffled by. Their cold and shrewd gazes slid over Pietrus's smooth face. But when their gazes fell upon Mona Louisa's ivory-white skin and perfect flawless beauty, their eyes, both men and women, filled with lust and envy, hungry desire. They stopped whatever they were doing and crowded around her.
"Stand back!" Miles growled, pulling out his sword. But still they came closer, hands reaching out, as if their compulsion to feel that smooth loveliness was stronger than their fear of his sword… until it began to swing and cut. Demetrius joined in, adding the threat of his whip. It whistled through the air, cutting both skin and cloth as he shouted, "Back away!"
Through it all, Mona Louisa stood cool and dispassionate, her composure as smooth and unblemished as her lovely skin.
Why aren't you afraid? I asked.
Because my men will protect me.
Such assuredness. Almost arrogant in her certainty.
Why aren't you surprised at the people's reaction to you? I wondered.
One glance at them, and you can see plainly what draws them — the beauty of my unblemished skin.
At her words, I was suddenly, painfully, aware of how much of that unblemished skin we were exposing. Not just hands and face, but a lot of bare leg, too. The cloth I had ripped off the bottom half of my dress left the new hemline at mid-thigh. Not terribly immodest but compared to the men and women here, who were covered from head to toe. some of them even wearing gloves… compared to them, Mona Louisa was almost flauntingly naked.
Beauty and unblemished skin — they are one and the same here, Mona Louisa observed.
Not quite the same, I returned dryly. Much as I had hated her, I could not deny her beauty — it was of the jaw-dropping variety. I sincerely doubted the crowd would have had the same visceral reaction to my plain face and less well-endowed body, perfectly smooth though my skin might be.
And yet with your plain face and flat-chested body, you managed to captivate your men as I never did mine. Until now, she thought, remembering when she had touched Miles's face and seen how he had looked at her. He loves me now, as he never had before. Her thought was both pleased and sad.
He didn't love you before? But he was loyal to you, even unto death.
Obedience and loyalty are not the same as love.
And the others?
They do not love me, not as Miles does was her cool observation. Their loyalty is more to him, although they no doubt feel a certain nostalgia for what I once represented. But it is him now that they follow and obey, not me.
I was surprised at her clear and accurate surmise of what she so possessively still thought of as "her men." I had wondered, for a moment, if she had deluded herself to the strength of their feelings for her.
I am not one to dodge the truth.
Her calmness, I realized with greater respect, was based on her sureness in Miles, that he would protect her, and that Gilford, D
emetrius, and Rupert would follow his lead.
We pushed through the crowd and were suddenly standing before the grand palace. More bull dheus, tall and brutish-looking, stood guard at the entrance. A few came to our assistance, keeping back the large crowd that had followed us.
Stepping inside the palace was like entering a completely different world of beautiful, savage splendor that was both civilized and primitive. Live-sized statues of half-animal, half-man creatures stood in the corners of the grand entryway in all sorts of different poses, their faces terrified, twisted in pain. But it was the statue of the gargoyle in the center that drew the eye most strongly. His strong face, his large powerful body with wings just starting to unfold, was rendered in perfect, lifelike detail. But all else was far from perfect, I saw, as we walked down the wide hallway. There was dust and dirt everywhere. Bits of filth and neglect evident among the opulent luxury of the palace. The gaudy was mixed among the tasteful. Fine paintings hanging next to primitive pagan artwork, evidencing the varying tastes of the different warlords that had conquered and ruled this city-state. I wondered which most accurately reflected the current ruler, the gaudy or the tasteful. But whatever his taste in art, the untidy condition of the palace itself spoke poorly of the present sovereign.
At our approach, the looming doors at the far end of the hallway opened, and we stepped into a room so big, it made you feel small and insignificant. A red carpet rolled out like a flat tongue for a very long distance, leading to a raised dais. We were in the throne room. And upon the throne sat something I saw through Mona Louisa's eyes but didn't fully see or perceive, because it did not sit so much as slouch in the chair, still and unmoving, like one of the statues we had passed. For a moment, I thought it was simply that, a statue, until it stirred, stretched, and sat up, taking lazy notice of our presence.
A gargoyle. But one so unlike the one that had tried to rescue me. As frightening as my first glimpse of a real gargoyle had been, I was immensely glad that I had seen Ghemin's father first. Otherwise I would have thought that the deformed monstrosity before me now was the truth of their kind. Only the color of his skin — a dark charcoal gray — and the black horns — thick and wide and fully developed — were the same. All else was vastly and completely different. The purple robe and fine silk garments only served to highlight the ugliness of the wearer. Lumps and bumps inches thick, not the thin surface crust visible on the bull dheus, covered every inch of that gray skin like a repulsively warty exterior. He was hideously ugly. As if coral had floated out of the sea, adhered itself to the surface of his skin, then died there, giving up all the beauty and life it had possessed in the sea, leaving behind only crumbled skeletal remains.