"No. I don't think so. But the curtain to the beyond, the veil, was opened to let her through. The opening may be here still."
He reached out for Gab's hand. "We're going to have to step through and go from there. The opening won't take us to Hades. You cannot get there from here. But you can get there from there."
"Are you trying to be funny?"
"Simply trying to use phrases you can understand."
She gave him her hand, biting her lips as they moved past Althea's body. Her willingness to undertake this surprised her. It was so alien, so strange, so frightening. It went against her nature, but she had to do it—for Heaven.
They had survived the last few days together, and they would get through this some way. Heaven would want her to come; she would need to see her mother and not just a stranger.
Drawing a deep breath, Gab stepped when Danube stepped, following his commands. Just as she had seen the sorcerer disappear, she now saw the room vanish.
One moment they were peering at the wall. The next they were adrift in a void of blackness and stars. Were they flying? She thought so for a moment, but then realized that they were passing through some intangible veil. They were not walking exactly, because they were in a world where things were different, where substance had a different feel.
Slowly, the blackness began to fade. This was no light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel experience, however. It merely melted into a dark gray world. Looking up did not reveal a sky, only a great vastness of gray that seemed to stretch forever.
Gab looked down and realized she was standing at last. At least it felt like she was standing, the ground beneath her feet a slick mass of oily gray clay. They were on the shore of what seemed to be a body of water. As her sight adjusted, she saw it stretched to infinity, and she noticed small waves lapping against the clay.
"Where are we?" she asked.
She had never seen anything quite like the water, which was somehow like smoke, somehow like fog, yet also like liquid.
She looked up at Danube, who was squinting, staring out through the mist that rose above the water. "Danube, where are we?" she repeated. "What are you looking for? Is this the way he brought Heaven?”
“It has to be. It has to be what he planned.”
“Then where are they?"
"They've already traversed the gulf."
"This is the gulf?"
"You remember the parable of Lazarus and the rich man, do you not? The gulf that separated hell from heaven and Earth. Or you might recall your mythology. Gabrielle, you are on the banks of the River Styx."
"This is impossible."
He nodded toward the outline that was slowly fading through the fog. "Unreality has no meaning here, and what you perceive is not as tangible as you might hope. But we are here, and Heaven is here, and whatever is manifest here, or however our minds perceive it, that is the reality.”
"I don't understand. This can't be."
"There are rules in the physical world. Our minds are designed to read the tangible things there and to react to them. This is a different realm; our minds cannot comprehend the things we see here. Thus, they are processed for us in terms that we can understand. This water is not water, but our minds cannot perceive it in its true spiritual form, so we perceive it as liquid, the closest thing we can understand to its actual makeup. It's much like a computer being given information in a different computer language. It will interpret the data as well as possible. The same will be true of beings we see. They may not have human form here, but our mind has no frame of reference so we see them as we must, as men or monsters. Remember also, this is not our realm. We are not dead, but we are not immune here either. We can be touched and killed in the same way we would on Earth."
The boat eased through the swirling mists, cruising through the murky liquid, a long, black gondola. The man who stood at the stern, guiding the craft, was clad in tattered robes, with rags wrapped around his face and head like bandages. His hands, too, were covered with tattered cloth, and his eyes were not eyes but glowing red orbs that seemed to float within empty cavernous sockets.
"Meet Charon," Danube said grimly.
The glowing eyes of the figure stared at her blankly, burning. She saw no opening for a mouth, but she had not expected him to speak.
"Danube, what can we do? The dead gave him coins in mythology."
“I think he will let us pass," Danube said. He reached into the pocket of his coat and drew out two pieces of silver. The coins were worn almost smooth, their original markings long unreadable.
A quivering, withered hand, swathed in gray tatters rose slowly and, twitching badly, reached out for the money. Danube dropped the silver into the palm, and quickly the being secreted it. Then the hand began to reach toward Gabrielle. She started to pull away, but she realized Charon was reaching out to help her aboard.
The craft rocked slightly as she eased her weight onto a seat. She gripped the sides as Danube also climbed aboard. She wanted to wake up, still not believing what was happening. This was myth, fairy tale, and yet she had been drawn into it; Heaven had been drawn into it.
Evil had reached out and dragged them into its realm. She had, in her way, always believed in hell, but it had never, in her mind, seemed quite so literal.
In a few moments the movement began, and Heaven saw the craft's bow begin to slice through the water. As she watched ripples break around the hull, she looked down into the gray liquid and gasped.
Decaying bodies floated there, ruined and fragmented. Severed limbs drifted past, and whole corpses. She recoiled, swallowing the coppery taste at the back of her throat.
"How broad is the gulf?"
"I have never had occasion to cross it before," Danube answered.
"So you don't know where we're going either?”
“Not exactly. I have heard stories and read volumes which had accounts of the beyond."
"Have others been here?"
"Some pages say that the Nazarene walked there in those three days after"—his voice broke, and he choked up for a moment—"after his death," he managed finally. “He moved through the corridors and set free those who were righteous."
"The Harrowing of Hell?"
"Precisely."
Something swept down just over their heads. Gabrielle felt her muscles tense, and she ducked down, rocking the boat with her movements as she raised her hands to shelter her head.
Danube was looking into the distance toward the form of the reptile-like creature. Its leathery wings flapped in the mist, carrying it higher and higher.
Gab spun around to see another, its face hideous, its red and yellow eyes peering down at her as it fluttered onward. Sharp, horned ridges protruded over its brow, and a long tail that tapered to a sharp point trailed behind it.
Clutched in its talons was a ragged body which had been tortured and was now a mass of open wounds and lesions. It hung limply beneath the creature, but slight movements indicated it was yet alive.
"Dante and the artists weren't far wrong, were they?" she asked, trying to control her fear.
"I am sure the things we have heard only scratch the surface."
Danube was looking ahead now, trying to see through the mist. It was impossible to make out anything more than a few inches away, however, even though the boatman had ignited a glowing orange lantern and seemed to know where he was going.
The next assault on Gabrielle's senses came from the side of the boat, screams and the gurgling of throats filled with water. As they passed on through the mist, she looked off to where a cluster of people splashed about, clinging to each other and trying to keep their heads above the murk.
They seemed like passengers left by a sinking ship. She was reminded of the Titanic as the water sloshed around them or their attempts to swim failed.
Suddenly, a huge and greasy-looking tentacle shot up from the water's depths, wrapping around one of the figures and dragging it down.
"They were trying to escape," Danube said.
; Finally, the craft pushed out of the mist, and they looked up at the rocky shore that became visible. Huge black buildings jutted from the stone, and beyond them stood tall ebon towers, a palace of the damned. As the boat glided to shore, Gabrielle began to make out the lumbering shapes of the dead. They shambled along the narrow streets, aimless and tortured by the nothingness.
"The City of the Dead," Danube repeated. The boatman eased the craft onto the rocky bank, and Danube took Gabrielle's hand to guide her onto the shore.
"Where do we go to look?" Gabrielle asked.
"He'll be headed toward the palace," Danube said.
They made their way across the jagged ground between the shore and the edge of town. In a few moments they were standing on one of the powdery streets. The dead figures moved around them as if they were not there, or if they bumped into them, the dead moved back a few steps and went around.
Gabrielle's flesh tingled, crawled. The faces were rotted masses of tattered flesh and open sores which oozed gray-black slime.
Eyes were missing from sockets, teeth from mouths; and chests were ripped open, revealing blackened organs that threatened to spill from the containment of skeletal frames.
Gab pulled back and grabbed Danube's arm when a figure passed her, the snaking ropes of its intestines dangling down its side and dragging along the ground.
"This is damnation. Spiritual decay" Danube said. “Ruined souls manifest as we can perceive them.”
"Hell is worse?"
"This is torment. In hell there is torture. All of it unrelenting."
They eased on through the narrow pathways, stepping over figures too badly damaged to do more than drag themselves along in the dirt.
"Where are they trying to go?" Gabrielle asked.
"Somewhere it doesn't hurt."
She was reminded of images she had seen, paintings and depictions of Europe during the plague. This was a thousand times worse, because waste and deterioration was all she could see.
The path that led toward the castle wound upward through a twisting rise of rock and debris. On an outcropping crouched the grimy Gnelf Master, a dark robe draped around his form, a sickle clutched in one hand. He was almost a parody, except that he was too hideous.
His leering face turned toward them as they approached, and his yellowed eyes raked over Gabrielle.
"You've come for your little one?"
Gab clenched her teeth. "What have you done with her?"
"The master took her up toward the castle.”
“You mean Simon?" Danube asked.
The laugh was sickening. “The mage who first summoned us."
"What's he trying to do with my daughter?"
“He wants to offer her to our father."
She looked to Danube, who nodded in confirmation. It was as he had predicted.
"You filthy bastards have a father?" she asked Gnelf Master.
"We call him father. He has sat on his black throne for eternity."
"What does he want with my daughter?"
The thing nodded toward the dead figures that picked their way aimlessly across the stones. “He is the ruler over all of them, but they are not fresh and pure."
"What does Simon expect to gain?"
"Knowledge," the Gnelf said. "Strength. More powerful magic. We slept here until he summoned us. Not many have learned to call on us in recent centuries."
"You welcomed a chance to get out of this place and tear things up."
He flexed the muscles of his arm. "I was given this form, your brain helped shape it for me. I can use this for a long, long time. And if you lived here, wouldn't you want to flee from time to time?"
"Take us to the girl," Danube said.
"Find her yourself. I have other tasks to perform." Danube stepped toward him. You will take us."
A snarl rasped from the creature's throat. "You seek to command me?"
"I will rebuke you to the depths of hell where all of the unrighteous belong."
Sullenly, the Gnelf eyed him for a moment before finally giving a slow nod. Hopping down from its stone perch, it began to move up the path, steadying itself with the shaft of the sickle.
Gabrielle and Danube supported each other as they climbed. The cracks and openings in the ground made each footstep a challenge, but they moved quickly up the ridge and finally to the broad canyon which encircled the palace.
The stone bridge which led across was narrow, and looking down into the abyss, Gabrielle saw the glowing slime that coursed through the gorge far below. It was a bright magenta ooze, and slithering through it were reptiles, thousands upon thousands, small and giant.
She gripped Danube's arm tighter as they made their way across the bridge. Somehow she knew what a fall would mean. Sinking into the sickening slime would be bad enough, but to be trapped there with the snakes would be eternal terror.
The cries of the people mired below rose to her ears, and she tried to shut out their screams as she passed.
Finally the Gnelf opened a huge door and led them into a narrow black foyer. Torches blazed there, emitting a light that was almost green. Shadows flickered off the obsidian walls, and the smell of decay drifted to Gabrielle's nostrils.
The screams that came from somewhere far back in the palace were high pitched and filled with agony. The sounds of torture, of the searing of flesh and the breaking of bones mingled with the cries of agony.
"Welcome, “ said the Gnelf. "I am sure we will find your daughter here. Somewhere."
Chapter 23
The halls were narrow and twisting, jagging back and forth around corners stained with blood. Bones lined the corridors, and the hideous beings that crawled in and out of the crevices had glowing eyes and slimy bodies that gleamed in the dim light.
Heaven walked past them, wincing at the sight of them as Simon tugged her along. He held her hand the way a parent might lead a child, but he was far less gentle than her mother. She knew he held her hand not to insure her safety but to keep her from fleeing.
He showed no sympathy for her inability to keep up and paid little attention when she cried out upon seeing something frightening. Controlling her tears, she scurried along at his side, trying to keep up with his long strides.
The Gnelfs led the way down the long corridor, their small forms clad in dark brown robes much like the one Friar Tuck wore in her Robin Hood book. Their cackles echoed through the hallway, and they turned back occasionally to leer at her.
Simon ignored them, his eyes focused straight ahead. He was excited. Heaven could sense that. Like he was looking forward to opening a Christmas present.
She wondered why he was taking her along. She didn't feel fear exactly, but the thought that he might harm her did cross her mind. He had hurt others. She couldn't stop thinking about what he'd done to Althea, and she knew he was responsible for the Gnelfs bothering her all this time.
The Gnelfs were nasty, but they didn't seem as threatening anymore. They were concentrating on what was ahead also. She bit her lip, wondering if what awaited was worse than the Gnelfs.
She hoped Mommy would follow her somehow. If there was a way, she knew Mommy would find it. Mommy wouldn't let her be harmed without putting up a real struggle.
They rounded another corner and walked up a slick black slope which stretched up to a pair of tall black doors. The Gnelfs quickly swarmed around the doors, their hands scrambling for the latch.
Then, together, they pulled the doors back, holding them open for Simon. A broad smile crossed his face, and he walked forward with Heaven. They moved through the doors, into a broad, high-ceilinged room.
Heaven looked through the darkened room, the only illumination from purple stones set in the walls. Simon continued to smile, and dropped to one knee, his head bowed.
"I have come to you, Master," he whispered.
She closed her eyes. She did not want to look at what she saw.
~*~
Danube held Gabrielle's arm with his bandaged hand as they rushe
d through the narrow corridors, kicking aside the oozing things that moved beneath their feet. Gab's heartbeat quickened. She was not feeling exhaustion now, but confusion and the unreality of it all made her almost dizzy.
She kept thinking they were going to round one of the corners and find Heaven's body torn to shreds or in the jaws of one of those nightmare beings. Hell had always seemed a concept, a myth. Not that she hadn't believed it in a way, but she'd never expected to encounter it in this literal sense. This wasn't hell, she realized, but it was bad enough.
And whatever it was, she didn't want her daughter here. It was no place for a child. She wanted to claw to bits the man who'd brought her here. Who was this bastard that he thought he could use her daughter to get what he wanted? Whatever they found when they caught up with him, she would fight to save Heaven. Some way or other she would free her daughter.
There had to be a way to save Heaven. Nothing they had ever done could make them deserve this.
Gab had plans for Heaven, for her education, her life, and they—dammit—would be fulfilled. No devils or magicians would destroy that.
She was still thinking that as they moved through the final narrow passage behind the Gnelf and watched him climb up a slope toward some open doors. They were about to pass inside, into what Gabrielle realized was a huge throne room illuminated with glowing stones, but their movements were hindered when the Gnelf in front of them was joined by a dozen others: The Gnelfs swarmed forward, and before Gab could struggle, their hands closed on her, tugging her away from Danube and dragging her forward.
As she was hurried toward the center of the room, she could see Heaven standing beside the magician who crouched before the throne.
The child's face was turned away from the figure on the throne, and though her eyes were shut, she had no visible marks of injury.
Gabrielle started to rush to her daughter, but the Gnelfs held her, their tiny hands closing on her forearms, gripping them so tightly that she could not move. She looked back toward Danube, but he, too, was in the grip of the small green monsters.
She jerked her head around toward Heaven, looking past her at the figure on the throne. She had not yet focused on him, but now she braced herself to view something hideous.
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