We may never know the answer to that.
Tired of wondering, I pull the creaky door open and slip inside. The others follow close behind me, and they’re careful to shut the door, giving us a small amount of privacy in case a demon should walk by.
“Webber,” I say quietly, not wanting to startle him. But he ignores me. Or maybe he didn’t hear.
I go closer to him and raise my voice a little. I don’t want a demon to hear me shouting at him, but I need him to hear me. “Webber, come on. It’s time to go.” He ignores me again. We’re only a few feet from each other, so this time, I know he had to hear me.
“What’s happening?” Galenia quietly asks. At the sound of her voice, Webber flinches, but he refuses to look over at us. He simply continues his trek back and forth between the pile of wool and the wheel.
“Maybe he’s not real,” Penn says. “Maybe this is a trap for us.” He looks around the dim room, as if readying himself for an attack.
Panic settles into my stomach, and I go back to the door, but it opens easily. “No. This isn’t a trap for us,” I say, watching Webber closely as he makes a few more trips from the pile of wool to the wheel.
I reach out and grab his shoulder. “Webber,” I murmur.
“That’s enough!” he cries out, slapping my hand away. “How much more do you need to torture me?” Tears stream freely down his cheeks now. He pushes past me so forcefully that I almost fall down.
Penn’s eyes fill with anger as he helps me up. He looks about ready to punch Webber, and part of me wants to let him do it. Maybe it would snap him out of this. But no, that isn’t my way.
I go over to him again. This time, I hold out my hand rather than touch him, hoping he’ll come to me. Finally, he looks at me, really looks at me. The pain in his eyes is like nothing I’ve ever seen. It breaks my already broken heart into a thousand more pieces. But I still hold out my hand, a lifesaver in this sea of torture, if only he’ll take it.
For a long time, we just stand there looking at each other. He looks tired. His bleach-blond hair that is normally perfectly combed to one side is incredibly disheveled. His dark gray eyes have lost their confidence. No longer do they hold any kind of challenge. The light has gone out of them.
After one day in hell, his clothes look like he’s been wearing them for a week. The once form-fitting white shirt that fades to grey at the bottom is torn in several places and hangs off him, and his grey-to-black colored pants are dirty and covered in some kind of gray filth.
But I’m sure I don’t look like the prettiest picture in the world after all we’ve been through. We’ve literally been to hell and back for him, and I’m sure he can see it on my face.
I hold steady, my hand extended to Webber, knowing he’ll take it when he’s ready.
After a little while longer, his face starts to soften, as if he’s really starting to see me.
“What do you have to lose?” I ask.
He reaches out and takes my hand.
14
Before we can leave his cell, we have to come up with a plan. “I should’ve known it was you and not some cheap imitation. Your lack of an escape plan gives you away,” Webber says with a hint of judgment in his voice, almost as if he’s back to his old self.
“You’re in a very precarious position to be so opinionated on the matter,” Penn warns. Webber doesn’t respond.
“I’ll go on to the prison. The rest of you can get him out,” Penn volunteers.
“You can’t do that by yourself, Penn,” I say. “Even if I gave you clear instructions on how to get there, you’d need someone else to help you free them. Honestly, I’m not sure what we should do. The last time I was there, I tried to break their chains and nothing worked. We’ll need to work together.”
Penn frowns, but I can tell he’s relenting. “Fine. Horatia and Galenia, you can take Webber home. Michaela and I will go to the prison. If we’re not back by the start of the workday, improvise. Webber can go back to work as the Spinner, and Michaela… well, maybe they won’t notice she’s gone with everything else that’s going on.”
I snort. “Right. And maybe the one who’s responsible for all this will just bump into us on our way out and surrender.”
He shrugs. “It could happen.”
I know a shorter way out than the way we came in. But it involves going slightly deeper into hell, which the others aren’t crazy about, particularly Webber.
“Look, once they discover you’re gone, it’s gonna be chaotic,” I say. “We need to get you out as fast as possible. And wandering back through the chambers and caverns isn’t ideal,” I say.
Penn nods, although the other Fates look skeptical. “Fine. Lead the way.”
I take them down to the end of the corridor, which opens to a pit of lava.
“Michaela, this is a dead end,” Galenia points out, but her tone is more despondent than accusing.
Rather than respond, I point in the distance. There’s a narrow stone bridge that traverses the lava.
“We’ll be sitting ducks on that thing, Michaela,” Penn says. “I think we should go back.”
I frown. I’m convinced going back that way would be akin to suicide. I can already hear some scrambling echoing down the corridor behind us. “We can’t go back by Webber’s cell. It’ll be crawling with demons very soon, if it isn’t already. They’ve never had a successful break out before, and there are reasons for that. The Hunters are good at what they do, and they’ll be after us before long. We need a quick getaway. The outskirts of hell are just on the other side of this bridge. If we can make it, we’re home free.”
Horatia swallows hard. “If we can make it,” she chokes out.
“We knew this wouldn’t be easy. This is the way out. I promise,” I say, imploring them to make haste. “The longer we stand here and debate it, the greater the danger of being caught. We don’t know what they’ll do to us if we’re caught, but not knowing might be the worst torture of all.”
Webber laughs darkly at that. A maniacal look spreads across his face as he says, “You have no idea.”
Galenia is the first one to take a step forward. “You’ve gotten us this far,” she says as she walks toward the bridge without looking back. Webber needs some encouraging, so Penn jerks him along. His resistance ends when a roar splits the air. It’s easy to guess what’s happened—his empty cell has been discovered.
We skirt the narrow ledge that runs along the edge of the pool and leads to the bridge. It’s tricky in a few places, with fallen boulders to go around and cracks to jump over. I watch my footing carefully, but Webber isn’t so surefooted, nor is he watching where he’s going. He’s too busy looking over his shoulder with wild eyes.
It’s not surprising when Webber loses his balance and grabs the closest person, who happens to be Horatia. She goes over the edge, but not before Penn leaps forward and grabs her arm. Webber hangs from the hem of her dress, and I can hear it tearing.
“Webber, grab my leg. It won’t hold,” she begs, referring to her dress.
“Stop kicking,” he yells, the desperation in his voice echoing off the cavern walls.
“Quiet… both of you,” I whisper, worried this slip up will draw attention to us.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Are you dangling above a pool of lava?” Webber snaps.
“No, but that’s because I was watching where I was going,” I say, and I immediately clap my hand over my mouth. “I’m sorry, Webber, I don’t know where that came from.” But I do. This journey is grating on me, and his attitude isn’t helping. We’ve stuck our necks out an awful long way for him, particularly since he hasn’t even thanked us.
A very dark thought creeps into my head just then. If he fell, we could easily pull Horatia up and move on.
Just as soon as I think it, I chide myself. I’ve been in hell too long; it’s starting to affect me. We need to get out of here, and we need to get out now.
Meanwhile, Penn is sweating bullets, struggling to hold them both as he lies
on his stomach, hanging halfway over the ledge. “I’d love to hear the rest of this terribly interesting conversation, but I’d appreciate it if you’d all shut up and give me a hand.”
Galenia and I rush to his aid; I lay flat on the thin ledge, letting a small part of my body hang over, while Galenia crouches behind me and holds on to my legs. Once I’m in position, I grab Horatia’s arm. With more leverage, Penn and I are able to pull Horatia up, but she can’t clamber onto the ledge because Webber is weighing her down. Penn tries to get Webber to grab the ledge and let go of Horatia, but he can’t get their movements coordinated. Webber is thrashing around, trying to get purchase on the wall with his foot, but it’s not helping, and it’s making it hard to keep my grip on Horatia.
“Webber, you fool. You’re going to kill us both,” Horatia shouts at him. I cringe as their voices echo off the stone walls around us. Hopefully, the demons are making too much of a commotion to hear us. But I know it’s only a matter of time before the Hunters are set loose, and we’re not exactly keeping a low profile.
“Come on, let’s pull them up together,” I tell Penn. We tug Horatia’s arms with all our might, and I can only imagine that with Webber pulling her down and us pulling her up, she must feel like she’s being torn apart. She bites down on her bottom lip, and I appreciate her effort to keep the noise down.
Penn grunts as we heft Horatia halfway onto the ledge. Her entire upper body is safe, but Webber is still dangling. I hold her in place while Penn reaches over and tries to retrieve Webber. Despite the fact that Webber is panicking, Penn grabs hold of his shirt with one hand and his arm with the other, and muscles him onto the ledge.
There’s a moment where he’s free of Horatia, and I’m not sure Penn will get him up onto the ledge we’re all so precariously piled up on, so I squeeze my eyes shut and hope for the best while I hold on for dear life to Horatia.
When I’m finally brave enough to open my eyes again, I see Webber in a heap against the wall, and Penn looking like he’s about to beat the living daylights out of him. “Penn. Not now. Help me with Horatia,” I warn.
“This isn’t over,” he says, his voice low and menacing, matching the terrifying tone of our surroundings. I’m starting to worry about Penn. He’s not himself. This place has sunk its claws in him—it’s affecting him more than it is the rest of us, and I can only imagine it has something to do with his affinity toward humanity. I can hardly fault him for that.
But to my relief, Penn leaves Webber panting in a heap by the wall and comes to my rescue. Working together, it’s easy for Penn and me to hoist Horatia up onto the ledge. We hug her when she’s safely on the closest thing to solid ground we have at the moment.
Penn goes back to Webber. “That’s twice you’ve nearly killed us all. If you think for a second I was on board with coming back here and saving you, you’re wrong. Next time you pull something like that, it will be your last. Mark my words, Webber.”
We all spend a tense moment shifting our weight on the edge of a pit of lava, waiting to see if Webber will respond.
When he doesn’t say anything, Horatia speaks up. “Who’s for Webber walking in front from now on?”
We all look back at him, still lying on his side up against the wall, staring into the lava pit with terrified eyes.
It’s in that moment that I’m reminded of our larger purpose… and the fact that we’re losing our chance at achieving it the longer we delay. “Webber, either you make your way to the front, or we move on without you,” I say, hating myself for saying it, hating him for putting me in such a terrible position.
He looks up at me with that lost, wild look in his eyes. “You wouldn’t dare,” he says, but he’s scared, not defiant.
“Don’t force my hand,” I say, standing up straight. He slowly stands, and we press ourselves against the wall, making it easier for him to climb over us.
First, he must get past Penn. It’s a tense moment for all of us. I fear he will throw Webber into the pit, and frankly, I wouldn’t entirely blame him for it. But though Penn glares at Webber in hatred and balls his hands in fists, he allows Webber to stumble past him without hitting him. The rest of us try not to touch him either, and we certainly don’t let him grab onto us as he makes his clumsy way to the front. I, for one, don’t want a repeat of what just happened. I’ve always known him to be a bit of a weasel, but I’ve lost what little trust I had for him. So when he tries to grab my hand for balance, I twist away.
“No. Don’t touch me,” I coldly say. Hell is getting to me too. I think it’s getting to all of us.
Once he’s at the front, I position myself behind him. The three other Fates, with Penn in the rear, follow. Finally, we make it to the base of the bridge.
“We will be very exposed on the bridge. It’s important that we get across as quickly as possible.”
The bridge is nothing more than a stone walkway. No rails, no ledges, nothing to protect us from falling into the lava. Our only lucky break is that it’s wider than the ledge we just walked across. Two of us could walk shoulder to shoulder without any problem, although it’s safer to walk one by one.
I push Webber out onto the walkway first, following close behind. “Run,” I command.
But as soon as we step on to the bridge, fire rains down on us from above. “It’s a trap. Go!” I urge, but Webber is frozen in place. “You’ll get burned if you stay here. Go!” I yell, pushing him more forcefully.
Finally, he starts to put one foot in front of another, but not before a fiery piece of ash falls in my hair, setting it alight. Galenia beats at it furiously, putting out the flames with her bare hands.
“We have to get out of here,” she yells above the roar of rushing fire all around us.
“I couldn’t agree more,” I say, pushing Webber along, urging him to pick up the pace. Finally, an ember lands on his shoulder, burning through his clothing and contacting his skin.
He cries out in pain, and then flat-out runs toward the other end of the bridge. We breach the halfway point, and we’re far enough for me to see the opening to the corridor that leads to the outskirts of hell. We’re so close…
Then I hear an ominous voice from behind me.
“Reaper,” it calls, and I screech to a halt. It’s as if my feet obey his commands rather than my own. The others crash into me, but Webber keeps running on ahead. That’s for the best.
“Go,” I command the others. “Go. I will handle this. I’ll be right behind you,” I promise, and they reluctantly step around me. Penn is the last to move past me, and he squeezes my hand in passing.
“Michaela,” he says, but I silence him. I don’t know if this is goodbye. If so, I don’t have time to process that. I only know that I need to save them so they can save Kismet and the others. And I can give them the time to do that.
“Go! I’ll meet you at the gate.” Penn frowns and reluctantly follows the others.
The hunter is at least three times my size. Fiery light shines through the cracks in his black skin and waves of heat pour from his eyes and mouth. Black horns curve around his face, connecting with a line of fire. He holds a stone ax of some kind, though I’m not well versed enough in demon weaponry to identify it. All I know is it’s bigger than my body, rectangular and worse than deadly. With it, I know he can erase me from this world. He growls at me and the sound blends with the fire roaring all around me, amplifying the racket.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he snarls. I can physically feel the heat from his words, and it blows my hair back around me, making me stand up a little straighter.
“The right thing,” I say. I’m scrambling for ideas as he steps out onto the bridge. I can’t just stall him and expect to survive. I have to either stop him or get him to go in another direction without me. But how?
That’s when it occurs to me. The souls. Will they protect me here in hell? The ghosts tried to hurt me, but they owe nothing to anyone here in hell. But it feels like it’s worth a shot now that
I'm standing in front of the Hunter. Anything is worth a shot at this point.
I raise my arms as the Hunter’s fierce growl sends ripples through my dress and warms my face.
“Souls of hell. You are needed. Come to me now,” I say as calmly as possible, looking up toward my raised arms. When nothing happens, I start to feel foolish.
The Hunter laughs—a terrible sound that makes rocks fall from the walls and crash into the lava below. It splashes up onto the bridge, taking chunks of the structure along with it as it seeps back into the depths. “You’re a fool. The souls of hell know there’s no redemption for them. You are alone, Reaper.” I turn to look behind me, and he’s right. My friends are gone. I breathe a sigh of relief. Hopefully, they’re safe, for now.
Continuing to hold my hands up above my head, I say again, louder this time, “Souls of hell. You are needed. Come to me now!” I clap my hands together, making a sound like thunder. The Hunter stops advancing on me as a ball of light appears between my raised hands. A soul appears out of nowhere in front of me. Wordlessly, he turns to face the Hunter. Suddenly, there are more and more souls, until there is a wall of them separating me from the Hunter.
There is an angry roar that shakes the very foundation of hell, but I don’t feel the heat from it. The souls are completely blocking him from me. The bridge starts to collapse under the Hunter’s rage, and the souls start chanting.
“Go.” They say the single word over and over again, as if they are one soul, not thousands. It’s a haunting and sad sound, making it difficult for me to leave them. But I know what I must do. This will probably be the end of them, but at least they will have redeemed themselves by helping another soul.
The Hunter is breathing fire at them, melting them out of existence one by one. They’re advancing on him, trying to overwhelm him. I honestly can’t tell who will win. Part of me wants to stay and watch, but their relentless chanting finally spurs me into movement.
“Thank you,” I say before I turn and run.
I find myself alone on the outskirts of hell. Demons are rushing everywhere, but none of them seem to take notice of me. I can only hope it stays that way. Sneaking from one hiding place to the next, I make my way toward the gate, looking for any sign of my friends.
The Children of Wisdom Trilogy Page 28