Dreamers Do Lie

by Megan Cutler

  “That's why we have to move. I can't let Arimand take you to the center of Hell. We couldn't hope to combat him there.”

  “You're wasting your time. I'm not going to fall for your tricks. Arimand knows a real exit. He proved it. And he won't rest until he sees me safely delivered from Hell.”

  Pain flashed across Moril's face. He turned his head, seeking another log for the fire. “If I were a demon, it would be dangerous to tell me that. And if Arimand wanted you out of Hell, you'd have left months ago.”

  “You want me to trust you, yet make threats like that?”

  “That wasn't… I'm sorry. I've had to be careful for a long time now. I guess thinking like the enemy has become second nature to me now.”

  “If you aren't a demon, how did you take that form?”

  “The King of Hell trapped me in that body the moment I arrived. At first, I thought it would impede me. He must have thought the same to grant me such a powerful identity. But I learned how to harness its positive attributes; how to track, and heal and access the paths only open to demons. It seems he couldn't grant me the form without also granting me the power.”

  Kaylie snorted. “If he didn't want you interfering, why didn't he lock you away?”

  “If I had entered his fortress, as you did, I'm sure he would have. But that isn't how the magic works. Besides, letting me traverse Hell in my true form is what would have interfered with his plans. He needed to make the struggle look real.”

  “How do you know so much about Hell if you aren't one of its creatures?”

  “One could ask the same of Arimand.”

  “Arimand explained his knowledge.”

  “Did he?” Moril grunted. He stood, moving outside the small circle of light cast by his fire. It had grown large enough for proper logs now, but there were none close to hand. Moril was gone just long enough for fear to fill her mind with nightmare images before he returned with more fuel for the fire.

  “I know what you know, Kaylie. No mortal family knows as much about the infernal realm as yours. It was your power that allowed me to enter here. None of us were sure it would work. But you'd been gone so long, we had to try.”

  Kaylie's mouth went dry. “What are you talking about? What do I know?”

  His gaze locked with hers and the intensity in his emerald eyes made her shiver. But she saw none of the fire that burned when the demon confronted Arimand.

  “Aside from the grace of Hell's master, there is only one exit from this realm; the Styx.”

  Her breath caught in her throat. “You lie! Why would Arimand risk his immortal soul, risk the souls of all our friends, if he could have delivered me from Hell the day we met?”

  “Because Arimand lied about his intentions. He doesn't want you to leave.”

  “So he risked eternal torment, challenged a demon of the highest caliber, and traversed three entire rings of Hell for what? So he can laugh at the end of it?”

  “He faced a demon that wasn't really a demon and, therefore, not very dangerous. You tell me why he did all of that instead of telling you to jump in the river.”

  “You just want to throw me in the river so that I won't remember him.”

  “What would be the point? If you were a damned soul, the effects would wear off as soon as you dried. But the Styx won't affect you like that. It will take you home.”

  Kaylie gritted her teeth. She wanted to pace, but didn't dare. A single step in the wrong direction could be the end of her. She pinned her arms to her sides, as if that would hold her in place.

  “You mean lift me to Heaven?”

  “No. I…” Moril lifted both hands, palms facing her in supplication. “I understand you're upset. I want to explain everything. I'm trying to help.”

  “Help? You're talking in riddles.”

  “I'm sorry. This is hard for me too. Everything will make sense when we reach the river. I promise.”

  Kaylie surged to her feet. “If you intend to dump me in the Styx, you'll have to drag me there! I believe in Arimand. I trust him. I love him.”

  Moril's face crumpled. His chest heaved and, for a moment, it seemed she had dealt him a mortal blow. He stood slowly, almost gingerly, and sidestepped his small fire to approach her. She shrunk away when he reached for her arms, but his hands on her shoulders were gentle.

  “Tell me it's not true,” he breathed. “You don't really believe that.”

  “Of course I do.”

  His hands slid from her arms. His eyes searched hers and, when they found no sign of uncertainty, grew dark. “Perhaps I should have come sooner. I can only pray I'm not too late. When you remember your life, a great deal may change.”

  Were demons so well versed in deceit they could accurately portray human emotions? What did Moril know that made him look at her that way?

  “What makes you say that?” her voice was barely more than a whisper.

  He glanced at her over his shoulder. He looked worn, weary, defeated. A thin smile graced his lips. “Well, for one thing, you love me.”

  Chapter Twenty: Mortal Memories

  Blurry figures danced across Arimand's vision. He blinked and the nearest resolved into Dwenba. The old woman's eyes were red, her cheeks splotchy, but the set of her jaw determined. She placed a cool cloth atop his forehead and struggled to muster a smile. “Awake?”

  Far away murmurs echoed, “He's awake.” Eselt's ragged beard drifted into view.

  “Kaylie?” Arimand asked, trying to ignore the scratch in his throat.

  “Taken.” Dwenba's voice cracked and she quickly turned her head.

  Rage boiled in Arimand's gut. He remembered the demon's foul illusion distracting everyone else. He had stumbled alone in its wake as long as he dared. Each step had been agony. The blow had left his head throbbing and tiny lights danced before his eyes in tune with each pulse of his heart. His footing had been uncertain, his body weak from blood loss, and he had fallen into oblivion with the creature still in sight.

  He tried to speak, but the passage of air through his throat caused a coughing fit. Dwenba helped him roll onto his side and thumped his back until it passed.

  Someone handed Eselt a water skin and he knelt beside Arimand's head. “You'd best take a sip or two, lad. It can't hurt any worse than you've already had.”

  Arimand nodded and allowed Eselt to hold the skin for him while he focused on swallowing. As soon as the cool liquid struck his tongue, despair overwhelmed him. How could he have let this happen? He should have been able to leverage the swamp for more advantage, or found some way to outwit the demon. There was no telling how far the creature had already carried Kaylie.

  As the effects of the water faded, outrage boiled away the last of Arimand's gloom. This was only a setback. He would free Kaylie from the demon and see her safely to her destination.

  He endured this cycle several times before the grit disappeared from his throat and the pounding behind his temples lessened. He needed to regain his strength somehow. He had no other options.

  When finally he could sit, he noted his wounds had been cleaned and bound. Concussion was probably the worst of the lot, but in Hell it couldn't do more than slow him down.

  “How long was I out?” he asked, pleased that he had recovered his voice.

  “If we're measuring the hours right,” Eselt replied, “a full day.”

  “You drifted up and down a few times,” Dwenba added. “I tried to speak to you each time, but you always faded too quickly.”

  “Damn,” Arimand muttered. Longer than he'd hoped but not as long as he'd feared.

  “They've got a dreadful head start, I know.” Eselt sighed. “But none of us can find the safe path. I lost six men before we gave up.”

  Fury filled Arimand's head with a heady buzz, not because his companions failed to hunt the creature, because he had allowed them to fall into this pit. And so close to their destination at that. He drew deep breaths until the fuzzy sensation eased. He needed his wits for the task at ha
nd.

  “I think I know what it means to do. Help me up.” Eselt took his extended arm and offered his shoulder when Arimand's first step stumbled. “We'll have to change directions. Get everyone ready.”

  “Now wait just a moment,” Eselt growled even as he steadied Arimand a second time. “We can't set off at random when that thing is already so far ahead of us. If you're wrong, we'll lose what little chance we have to catch it.”

  “We can't just follow them,” Arimand insisted. “We have to try and cut them off. That means finding a shorter, intersecting path. It also means we have to move fast. No more rest unless we can't drag our sorry legs one step further. And the longer we spend arguing, the greater it lengthens its lead.”

  As Arimand spoke, Eselt's eyes narrowed, his lips pressing into an ever-thinning line. For a moment, it looked as though he was going to protest. Then he turned his head and started barking orders.

  ~*~*~*~

  Kaylie should have scoffed at the notion she loved a demon. Instead she recalled Moril's plea on the burning boat. Try to remember. Was this what he meant?

  Dejected by the lack of response, her captor sank to his knees, feeding more logs to the fire. He sat with his shoulders slumped and his head bowed, silent.

  There was something about him. Why couldn't she remember? Was it the creases beside his eyes when he frowned? The slight way he favored his left side? Or was it the tender, almost reverent way he spoke her name?

  It didn't take long for Hell's howling wind to numb Kaylie's hands and feet, making her long for the cloak she had turned into bandages. The endless icy rake drove her to the fireside, seeking warmth.

  Moril didn't speak, but passed her a pair of oversized gloves. She murmured her gratitude as she slid them on.

  As the heat warmed her, exhaustion set in. She tried to remain vigilant; the man on the other side of the fire had abducted her. But the demon could easily have killed her, if it wanted to. Besides, the longer she remained stationary, the better her friends' chances of catching up. What harm could it do to rest?

  Kaylie lay beside the fire, knees curled against her chest, eyes locked on the flames, and allowed her mind to drift.

  She became aware of her surroundings all at once; the crackle of the fire, the rattle of the wind through dead branches, the soft hiss of her companion's breath. She blinked, squinting against light that seemed suddenly bright. She must have fallen asleep.

  Eyes darting in all directions, she pushed herself upright. Moril sat on the far side of the fire, a series of branches arrayed on the ground beside him.

  Biting the inside of her lip, Kaylie cursed her startled reaction. She might be able to stall further if she pretended to go back to sleep. Would Moril let her rest as long as she liked? Or would he resume the demon shape and carry her off while she slept?

  “Ready to go?” Moril's quiet question interrupted her frantic thoughts.

  Kaylie narrowed her eyes and pressed her lips into a thin line. What do you think, demon?

  ”I'm not going to drag you.” Moril dipped one of his chosen branches into the fire to light the tip. The others he hefted under his arm as he stood. “I understand why you don't believe me. And I know nothing I say is going to convince you. If you really want to wait for your beloved Arimand, so be it. But you'll miss your opportunity to learn what I know about your life.”

  Kaylie clenched her teeth. She'd been too eager when he mentioned their association. More than anything, she wanted to know who she was, where she came from and how she arrived here. Exhausting Arimand's knowledge of Corvala had gained her precious little. But if Moril was a demon, everything he said about her life might be a lie. Did she dare take the risk?

  What if something in her memory could help her free Arimand? Her heart skipped a beat.

  Even if Hell's deeper rings were smaller, they should be weeks away from the Styx. What could it hurt to follow the demon-man for one day? That should give her enough time to determine if he knew anything worthwhile. She'd have plenty of time to dig her heels in and force his hand later.

  Moril offered her the torch. With a soft sigh, she stood and accepted the burden. He lit a second torch for himself before he doused the fire with damp swamp earth. Then he kicked the logs apart, erasing all sign of their passage. He tucked his bundle of sticks onto his back, beneath a strap he had already secured, and motioned for her to follow.

  Moril used Arimand's method to determine the safe path through the swamp. Kaylie focused on mirroring his movements, uncertain he would dive into the muck to save her, despite his assertion they were lovers. At least they weren't moving any faster than Clan Vorilia now that Moril had abandoned the demon shape.

  If Kaylie could determine how either man found the safe areas, she might try to slip away. But her attempts to prod the ground revealed nothing. The soil beneath her feet felt woefully uncertain when she tested it with the base of her torch. She was stuck relying on the demon-man. She wouldn't know if he was leading her deeper into Hell until they reached the border of the next ring. She had to stall until Arimand caught up, and she refused to contemplate how hard that might be.

  It took several hours to work up the courage to speak. “You said people need me. What use could they have for a dead soul?”

  Moril paused and glanced over his shoulder, eyes wide with surprise. A grin crept slowly across his lips. “You aren't dead.”

  Kaylie rocked on her heels, nearly losing her balance. “How else could I end up in Hell?”

  “Do you remember dying?” Moril resumed poking the path ahead of them.

  “No, but I don't remember much of anything.”

  “This might be easier if you tell me what you do remember.”

  Could this be a trap? Even if it was, Kaylie didn't remember enough to trigger it. “Flashes, mostly. A wall. A garden. A tree overlooking the wall. Voices, more than anything. My parents' voices, I think. And a story. I think my father used to tell it to me. Arimand said it's Corvala's history. The one about the princess who married-”

  “An Angelic Avenger. It isn't just a story; it's your family's history.”

  “My family?”

  “Yes, you're a direct descendant of that woman. That's why your family knows so much about Hell. For years, you've served as caretakers to the research regarding the King of Hell and his minions. When it comes to navigating this realm or combating its forces, you taught me everything I know.”

  She knew how to fight demons? That information would have been useful yesterday. “Is that how I ended up here?” Had some demon dragged her down after she lost a battle? Had it been him?

  Moril sighed. “That's complicated. Corvala has long kept the four surrounding empires — Vesald in the north, Onroth in the east, Iyrnt in the south, and Nywor in the west — from devolving into endless war. Their rulers constantly seek to expand into each other's territories. They will take any opportunity to dispute a border or claim a reparation.

  “Corvala acts as a mediator, the only party considered acceptably neutral, perhaps because we're so small. Our people have a special diplomatic immunity. At least, we're supposed to. But something happened a few months back that changed everything. Blight rotted the crops in the fields and plague swept the outlying villages.

  “It was easy to identify the source as dark magic, but not where it came from. The empires jumped on the opportunity to blame each other. That's how the war started.”

  Butterflies fluttered in Kaylie's stomach. Arimand had been careful not to say much about Corvala's current state, though he had spoken at length about its history and culture. Moril's words conjured flashes of the mad rush to locate an alternative food source while they attempted to isolate the afflicted fields. The frantic search for a cure while panicked citizens demanded the burning of plague victims to prevent the spread of disease. Kaylie swallowed hard. Could these be memories?

  “We tried everything. Even our strongest clerics couldn't turn the tide. As the death count mounted, it lo
oked as though the empires would take any excuse to sweep into Corvala under the guise of protection or rescue.” Moril shook his head. “That's when you determined the source of the darkness. It didn't come from the mortal realm. It came from here.”

  “The King of Hell attacked your country?”

  “The King of Hell attacked your country. And you were the only person capable of combating it. Your power allowed you to enter the damned realm and negotiate with its ruler. But where that quest began, my knowledge ends.”

  “Are you saying I walked into Hell?” Was this her physical body? She laid a hand on her chest, seeking proof of her mortality.

  “No, only your spirit could enter Hell. You projected yourself somehow. I'm not really certain how it works. The most powerful mages in the country stand by your bedside, day and night, weaving spells that protect and preserve your body while you're absent. But we fear their magic will soon fail. We don't know what will happen if they exhaust themselves, or if there's a way to call you back to your body. That's why…”

  Kaylie stopped walking. Moril took several steps more before he noticed. He paused and turned, concern creasing his brows. “Kaylie? Are you all right?”

  “The voices…” The chant that haunted her nightmares. The chorus she hadn't been able to dispel since the beginning of their voyage. She assumed every damned soul heard them as part of Hell's torment. Why hadn't she asked Dwenba, Eselt or even Arimand? But hadn't Arimand said he stopped dreaming after his arrival? Had she had it backwards all along?

  “What voices?”

  She looked into Moril's eyes. They reflected the flickering light from his torch. “I hear them in my dreams. I thought they were just nightmares, but…”

  New light filled Moril's emerald eyes. “Then there's hope! We didn't know what to think when you didn't return. We knew time in Hell moved at a different rate, but we didn't know the difference between one day here and one day there. After the first week, the blight subsided. The clerics found a cure for the plague. The sick began to recover. The crops even began to flourish in the fields again. But you didn't wake. Another week passed, then another, and we feared the worst.”