“What can we do?” Horatia asks.
“Save Webber. Free the souls in the prison. Hope that’s enough to stop whatever’s happening,” I say. I have no other ideas, so I can only pray it’s enough.
Penn gives voice to my darkest fears. “What if it isn’t enough? What if whoever’s doing this doesn’t even know about the prison? They’re just cutting threads, happy as can be, with no concept of the consequences? If that’s the case, the prison will keep filling up until we find the culprit.”
“Guards were posted at the weaving room not two days ago, Penn. I wouldn’t want to trifle with those Archangels. This goes deeper than someone just cutting threads,” Horatia offers.
“Well, it seems like someone trifled with them and got away with it,” he says. I can tell he’s not convinced.
He looks to me earnestly. “You can’t take a child before her time. Before she’s even had the smallest chance to fulfill her fate, whatever it is. Her parent’s fates are surely intertwined with hers. The cascading consequences are absolutely dire. You must see that you can’t do this.” He says it as if it’s a truth. One I must abide.
“I can’t leave her, either,” I say. “She will die tomorrow whether I come for her or not. If I leave her, she’ll become a ghost, and she’ll torture her poor family until they all die. Then she’ll be left on Earth alone. Is that what she deserves?”
He frowns. “Those can’t be our only choices.”
“For now, they are. If we don’t fix this, the names will keep coming, and the situation will only get worse,” I say, sounding more confident than I am. I reach for his hand, and he lets me take it despite his outrage at the situation. As I stand up, I feel energized and slightly more ready to face the night ahead. Maybe, just maybe, we can handle this. “There’s work to be done,” I say.
The Fates all look back at me with grave expressions. I say a silent prayer that we will succeed tonight as we file quietly out of my room and off to the gates of hell once more.
Once we’re on the other side of the gate, we don’t speak. There’s nothing to discuss. We’re all focused on our mission. We have to succeed.
Part of me feels a little bitter. We shouldn’t be here. Not again. Not so soon. But I know that’s just hell taking its toll on me, feeding on my emotions. Diligence, God said. That’s what I need. Not wallowing. Diligence. I repeat it in my head as we walk through the outskirts of hell, and the mantra makes me stronger.
Our cover story is the same as it was before—I’m bringing the others on another tour of hell. We can only hope we won’t run into the same demon we saw yesterday. The odds are slim, and I’m willing to bet on them. If we do see him, we’ll demand the release of our friend. No cloak-and-dagger stuff—just let him go and we’ll be on our way. Of course, we’ll still plan on making a short detour to the prison, but he doesn’t need to know that part.
Either way, it’s a problem for my future self. My current goal is to get to Webber, and I can only hope there’s a minimum amount of complications. But I know it’s a foolish thought; hope doesn’t exist here in the depths of hell.
As we wander the dark caverns, Penn finally breaks our silence. “How come this prison couldn’t be on the outskirts of heaven? We could be wandering in a much more pleasant place. And Webber would be living it up! He wouldn’t even want us to come back for him,” he says. I think he means it as a joke, but no one laughs. It feels impossible to laugh here.
I lead them through another turn and down a dank corridor, trying to find my way to the hall of black doors where we left Webber, but I’m quickly realizing I don’t recognize this area. I stop and glance over my shoulder. It all looks the same to me. We were all so upset when we left Webber here last night. My feet led the way to the door seemingly of their own accord. Now, it seems like an eternity has passed since we were last here. My soul is stretched too thin. I’m tired, and it’s showing.
As I glance back and forth, I come to a terrible conclusion. I’m lost in the depths of hell with everyone I hold most dear.
10
Penn picks up on my distress right away. “Okay,” he whispers to me. “Let’s not panic. The holding area was on the outskirts of hell, not that far from the prison. I think we went too far. Let’s go back a bit.” He turns, and pushes through the girls. They turn and follow him. I go to the back of the group, following a Spinner through the depths of hell. It feels so wrong on so many levels.
I should’ve gone straight to the prison and made my way from there. I could never forget the location of that horrible place. Moments into this mission, I’ve already forgotten my main directive. Diligence.
While I try not to despair, Penn manages to guide us back to recognizable territory. Before long, I know exactly where we are.
“I recognize this skull.” Although there are many skulls buried in the walls of the caves of hell, this one stands out to me. It’s missing teeth—one tooth on top and one on the bottom, making its grin grotesquely comical. Almost like a jack-o-lantern.
It rests at the crest of a fork in the caverns. When we pop out from the tunnel, we’re left with two options. One leads to the prison, so I can infer that the other leads to Webber.
“We should stick together until we find Webber. Then we’ll go from there, okay?” I say, hoping I sound authoritative enough that they won’t question me. Penn isn’t convinced.
“Why don’t you and one of the girls go get Webber, and someone can come with me to the prison?”
Galenia looks back and forth between us. “I think we should stick together. At least until Webber is safe.”
Horatia agrees. “I’m sorry, Penn, but unfortunately, Webber is our main objective right now.”
“He got himself in that mess,” Penn grumbles. “As far as I’m concerned, we have bigger fish to fry.” He keeps the anger in his voice just below the surface, and I’m glad for that. Fear, anger, aggression, these emotions are like beacons to the demons, so it’s important that we all keep ourselves in check.
“We do have bigger fish to fry. Once he’s safe,” I say. We need Penn’s single-minded focus to help us accomplish our mission, but we can’t very well leave Webber behind.
Galenia steps in. “What happened to coming back for him?” she asks, looking at him with pleading eyes.
Reluctantly, he relents. We go—one of us rather begrudgingly—down the hall to the sorting rooms where we last saw Webber. I count the doors as I go, hoping beyond hope that I’m counting right. Everything is so foggy from yesterday, and it all happened so fast. I try hard to play the moment over in my mind. “It was the fifth door on the right, right?” I ask. No one answers.
“Let’s try it and see.” I take a breath and open the door. None of the doors in hell are locked. There’s nowhere for the souls to go, and most don’t even try to escape. They don’t even see it as an option. Demons and Reapers are the only ones who know the doors aren’t locked. Surely Webber thinks he’s trapped, just as the souls do.
The cell is dark, making it impossible to see very far inside. The red glow from the hallway spills inside some, making the darkness retreat to the very back of the cell. This leaves a small area where he could be hiding. “Webber?” I whisper into the darkness. No reply.
“If you’re in here, now’s not the time for caution.” Silence. I sigh and glance back at the others, who are keeping watch in the hall. We haven’t seen any demons so far, but I doubt our luck will hold. Taking a risk, I decide to walk the perimeter of the room. I don’t want to move on without him if he’s right under my nose. But we don’t have time to search every cell this way. We still have the prison to address. I pick up my pace as I walk, feeling my way along the wall when I reach the total darkness in the back. I try not to think about what I’m touching as my hand runs over cold, smooth bumps.
I can’t accept the fact that he’s not here, that they’ve moved him deeper into hell. My hope to find him fast and move on is withering in the face of the growing idea that
we might not find him at all.
As I shuffle forward in the darkness, no one speaks. Slowly, I circle back around to the door, having found the cell empty.
“Maybe I picked the wrong cell,” I say, hoping that’s true. But here in hell, truths are hard to come by.
No one says anything as Penn and Horatia take the door to the left and Galenia and I take the door to the right. Theirs is another empty space, but mine has someone inside. Unfortunately, it’s not our quarry.
“Who are you?” the soul asks, his voice quivering.
I frown sadly at him. I can’t help him. “I’m sorry to have disturbed you,” I say before shutting the door.
He runs to it and pounds hard, making a tremendous amount of noise. “Please! Don’t leave me here! You have to help me!”
Soon, we hear the telltale shuffling of demons approaching. With nowhere else to go, we all duck into Webber’s empty cell.
A demon bangs on the cell next door. “Hey,” he hollers. His loud voice echoes through the halls. The man immediately stops pounding and goes quiet.
“Don’t make me come in there,” the demon threatens.
We listen to his steps recede, and even after he’s long gone, we sit in the silence and darkness, not quite sure of what to do next.
“We could ask a demon where he went. Tell them we’re trainees, and we’re curious to know what happened to the soul we brought in yesterday,” Horatia suggests.
Although it’s not a bad suggestion, I’d rather not seek out the attention of demons. It seems like we’d just be asking for trouble. On the other hand, what better place to hide than out in the open? I waffle for a moment before I land on a decision. “I think we should at least try to find him on our own. Asking a demon can be our last resort,” I say.
“The demon yesterday said Webber thought he was better than others. That might narrow down where they brought him. If they decided that was his punishable crime. If they chose something else…” I take a deep breath. “He could be anywhere.” My mind spins with the possibilities. Hell is broken into many different areas, each focused on punishing a particular set of crimes. We’ll never cover all of hell in one night. The search could take more than a lifetime. That’s just the nature of hell. You’re not meant to leave.
“We shouldn’t have left him here,” Galenia says.
“We had no choice,” Penn says in the darkness. “We had to go or be trapped here right along with him.”
“We can’t afford to dwell on shouldas and couldas. We need to focus on what we can do now,” I say as I squeak the door open, letting a sliver of light into the cell. Poking my head out, I scan the hall in both directions. No one is out there wandering, so I ease my way out and lead the others deeper into hell.
At the end of the corridor, the holding cells taper off, and the walkway opens to an expansive stone room that maintains the same creepy, red glow. The smell of sulfur is even worse as we move deeper into hell, and I fear I may never get it out of my nose, let alone my hair. There’s a tall but seemingly controlled flame in front of us. It travels the length of the room, extending at least three feet above my head.
“What is this?” Horatia asks.
“It’s the maze,” I say. “It’s where those who’ve misled others for one reason or another are trapped. They’re doomed to go round and round inside for all eternity, never finding their way out.”
“That’s terrible,” Galenia says.
“It’s meant to mirror what they’ve done in life to others.” I say, my tone matter of fact. As Reapers, we’re taught not to dwell on the punishments. They are carefully crafted, calculated, and assigned. The punishments assigned to human souls are earned through a misspent lifetime on Earth. Nothing more, nothing less.
“Do you think he could be in there?” Horatia asks.
“Not really. But if he’s there and we don’t look for him, we’ll always regret it,” I say.
“He did sort of mislead us about his skills as a Spinner. He always said he’d be a better Spinner than Penn, and we all know how that turned out,” Horatia says. Webber always coveted Penn’s job, saying he’d do a superior job to the best Spinner in history. Well, when Penn was banished, he finally got what he wanted. But it turns out he was much better suited to life as a weaver, although I’m not sure he would admit that. Not even now.
Even if we manage to rescue him from hell, I have no idea what his future will hold. We all know he’ll be replaced as the Spinner as soon as a suitable candidate can be found. And someone has already replaced him as Weaver. So he can’t go back to his previous job either. It’s a problem for a day when our problems are more superficial than they are today. First, we have to get him out of this dreadful place.
“Well, there’s only one way to find out,” I say, gazing at the wall of fire.
“You’re going in there?” Galenia asks, clearly horrified.
I laugh. The sound feels out of place, and it echoes throughout the caverns. Clapping my mouth shut, I listen for the footsteps of demons running toward the odd noise in their home.
When I feel safe—well, as safe as I can feel in hell—I shake my head. “No, I’m not going in there. But if Horatia stands on Penn’s shoulders, she should be able to get a good view of who’s inside. Just try to be discreet. If any of the souls see you, they’ll want help.”
Horatia and Penn are the two tallest members of our group. The fire is taller than I am, but their combined height should allow them to see past it.
As she’s climbing up onto Penn’s shoulders, Horatia says, “There’s so much fire, but there’s no smoke or heat.”
“These are the flames of hell,” I explain. “They will only burn or choke those they’re meant to burn and choke. The souls inside have probably long since moved away from them. The fire is only on the outermost edge, to discourage escape. The souls who travel through it think they’ve gained refuge in the corridors of the maze, but things only get worse for them the further they go. Spikes jut out at them from all angles so they can’t sit down, horrific creatures crawl on them, people chase them… basically anything that keeps the soul moving constantly, without rest.”
No one says anything. It’s a terrible fate, but there’s nothing any of us can do about it, so Penn hoists Horatia up.
They tumble on the first try. “This dress is a bit… cumbersome, Michaela,” Horatia says. “How do you get anything done in it?”
I smile. “Carefully.”
She snorts and tries again, hoisting herself up on Penn’s shoulders. “Helpful.” She’s quiet for a long moment as she searches the maze. Finally, she whispers, “I see someone close by, but it’s not Webber.”
Before she can climb down, I implore her to keep looking. “Do you see anyone else?”
“Yes. There are so many souls inside…” Her voice is low, and her face has lost its color. She’s despairing. One by one, that toxic emotion will take all of us if I let it.
“Don’t lose hope now. We will find him,” I say, desperately trying to give her some hope in this hopeless place.
“How? There are too many to count, let alone identify.”
“Should we call out to him?” Penn asks as he holds onto Horatia’s ankles.
Galenia wrinkles her nose. “I don’t think we should draw attention to ourselves. If we’re discovered here, we’ll be no good to him.”
“What do you think, Michaela?” Penn asks as he shifts his weight, balancing Horatia carefully.
“I don’t think he’s in there. And if he is… he’s as good as lost to us anyway,” I say darkly. There’s no way we could save him from the maze. There’s one way in, but there’s no way out. Truthfully, though I don’t tell them as much, we needn’t have looked. If we found him in there, we’d only be able to say goodbye. He wouldn’t have heard us, but at least we would have had closure.
We’re all silent for a moment while Horatia climbs down.
“What now?” she asks once her feet are firmly back on
the ground.
“We go deeper into hell.”
11
We walk the perimeter of the maze for what feels like an eternity, and I start to worry about how much time we have left. We can’t be caught here during work hours. If we are, Lily will be left behind to become one of Earth’s lonely shades, and the Reapers will be short another hand. Not to mention the fact that all the Fates will be lost. The creation of human life will come to a complete and total standstill.
Of course, trying to calculate what time it is in hell is nearly impossible. It’s designed to feel infinite and excruciating.
“We need to watch the time,” I say as we finally make it to the other end of the maze. The room starts to narrow in, leading to another corridor. I’m not looking forward to going back to the cramped caverns, but at least it’ll lead us away from the maze.
I pause in the entryway to the next section, listening hard for wandering demons. When I hear nothing, I press forward. It’s an odd area, and the group has a hard time processing what we’re seeing.
The long hallway we’re walking down is lined with cells on either side. The cells all have old-fashioned wooden doors, embedded with small windows covered by iron bars. It’s reminiscent of an old dungeon, save for the red glow that bathes everything in demonic light.
Taking a divide-and-conquer approach, we each choose a cell and peer inside. There are tremendous amounts of people in each. But on further inspection, there is only one solid soul in each of them. The others are a bit transparent. The soul at the center of the mass I’m watching is holding his ears. He’s being verbally assaulted by the others. They’re asking questions, placing demands, telling stories, and jabbering continuously. It’s an unceasing hum of sound.
The reflections are tugging at him, pulling his hands away from his ears, demanding to be heard, to be heeded, but not necessarily to be answered. When he relents and brings his hands down, the reflections only press in harder and speak louder.
The Children of Wisdom Trilogy Page 26