Of the Abyss

by Amelia Atwater-Rhodes

  A wave of heat slapped Hansa, as if he had leaned toward an open flame. It passed and he shivered as both the sudden warmth and the insidious, dry heat of the Abyss abated. The sense of constant weight that had grown with each step deeper in the well lifted.

  When Naples took the blade away, the wound seemed to smolder, the scar-­slick surface glowing amber like hot coals.

  Naples returned the knife to his own skin, this time to make a single stroke beneath the symbol he had previously carved, mingling Hansa’s blood with his own.

  He waved Hansa off. “Cadmia, you next.”

  “You’ll be fine,” Hansa said, squeezing Cadmia’s shoulder as he passed.

  Umber inspected the mark on Hansa’s arm suspiciously, but seemed satisfied that it would do what it was supposed to, or at least that it wouldn’t do anything else. He went after Cadmia, though he and the Abyssumancer watched each other with open hostility as Naples repeated the process with the spawn.

  Finally it was Xaz’s turn. When Naples first touched the blade to her arm, she cried out and jerked back, clapping a hand over the wound as a curse hissed between her teeth. Umber arched one brow, and Cadmia rolled her eyes, but Hansa moved closer. “Is something wrong?”

  Xaz reluctantly lifted the hand she had held over the first cut Naples had made. The blood beading on her skin hissed and bubbled, letting off faint steam as white as Xaz’s face had gone. Though she hadn’t made a sound beyond the single cry, her jaw was set with pain.

  “What happened?” Cadmia asked.

  “Xaz, you’re going to have to work with me here,” Naples said, his tone bland and unsympathetic. “Your magic might not like mine, but my magic will keep you alive. You’re going to have to deal with it.”

  She knelt in front of him again and offered her arm. Her fingers trembled, so she drew them into a tight fist.

  Naples made the remaining cuts quickly. Xaz’s body went rigid, but she didn’t scream or pull away again. When he slicked the Abyssi-­bone knife with her blood, she let out a single whimper; even Naples winced at the hissing sound made when the bone touched the Numenmancer’s blood.

  When Naples released her arm, the mark left behind on Xaz’s skin was black like a cinder, with faint blue ripples.

  Naples set his own teeth as he cut the last mark in his chest, as if joining Xaz’s blood with his hurt him as much as it had her. Finally, he licked the remnants of blood from both blades before wiping them on his cloak and returning them to their sheaths. He buttoned his shirt over the symbol on his skin, which was no longer bleeding, but pulsed with dark magic.

  “The further you go from me, the harder it will be to keep you within the sphere of power,” Naples said, as he undid his cloak and spread it on the plateau to sleep on. “Especially while we sleep, I want to be in contact, so I’m not spending more power holding on to you all than I can actually recover resting. Hansa, you’re next to me.”

  “Not likely,” Umber replied, draping a protective—­possibly possessive—­arm across Hansa’s shoulders.

  “What do you think I might do with you an arm’s reach away?” Naples snapped. “He’s human, and unlike you, he won’t have the instinct to defend his energies while he sleeps. That means I can draw power off him, both to help maintain the link and to strengthen it and myself while we sleep. It won’t hurt either of you, and it’s the only way I might have the strength to make it to the fifth level.” He added the last bit when Hansa frowned, not happy about the idea of being used as living fuel.

  Come to think of it, he still wasn’t happy about it, but he realized he should have expected as much. What other use had he expected to have in this group?

  They ended up in a cuddling-­line like hostile kittens, with Naples in the middle, Hansa and Umber on one side of him, and Cadmia and Xaz on the other. Snuggled between Naples and Umber, Hansa found himself uncomfortable on about fifteen different levels, so he was remarkably glad when the Abyssumancer and the Abyss-­spawn looked at him at the same moment and both said, “Just go to sleep.”

  There were good uses for magic. Falling asleep and not having to be aware of the others . . . that was a good use.

  CHAPTER 35

  Xaz woke sore and sweating, with a large furry body sprawled across her. Instead of waking Xaz so he could take the place next to Cadmia, Alizarin had draped himself over them. Xaz mostly had his legs, his torso crossed Cadmia, and his head rested on Naples’ shoulder. The Abyssumancer had turned so his cheek rested against Alizarin’s hair. On his other side, Hansa had turned his back on Naples and was nestled against Umber.

  “Get off me,” Xaz said, shifting to wriggle free of the Abyssi’s weight. Her muscles ached from hours of walking the day before, and her shoulder and hip were needles of pain where they had been pressed against the stone.

  “You’re comfortable,” Alizarin yawned.

  Cadmia opened her eyes, shifted, and said with a wince, “Stone is not a good bed. Let me up.”

  Alizarin rolled off everyone, stretched to his feet, and offered a hand to help Cadmia up.

  “We still on the stairs?” Hansa asked.

  “Seems like,” Umber answered.

  He pushed himself halfway up then paused on his knees, waiting for Hansa, who said, “Still in the Abyss?”

  “Unless Kavet had a sudden change of weather,” Naples replied, rolling to his feet with a smoothness that made Xaz want to slap him. How did he manage to feel so fresh?

  He slept against an Abyssi, a spawn, and a mortal. That’s powerful fuel, even after the amount he must have burned protecting us.

  “Sleep well?” Umber asked, as they both pushed themselves up.

  “Like I took a magical hammer to the head,” Hansa answered, rolling his shoulders.

  They ate a brief meal, but too soon it was time to move again, this time into a place where only Naples’ power would keep the deadly force of the Abyss at bay.

  On second thought, maybe Xaz wouldn’t begrudge Naples his rich meal.

  Alizarin went ahead again; he clearly couldn’t stand traveling at their slow, careful pace. The rest of them walked, climbed, jumped, skulked, even at one point crawled, in mind-­numbing repetition. The rank odor of the second-­level swamps fell behind them, replaced by whiffs of musk and smoke.

  “Almost at the third level,” Naples announced, as they descended a section of stairway that looked like a chunk of it had fallen away.

  With Naples’ magic suppressing the Abyss’s scalding power, the air felt dead; voices and footsteps didn’t carry any distance, but faded to nothing. The stairs were worn and ashy, black and white, coated in a fine dust that puffed lazily into the air with each footstep and not quite wide enough to feel entirely comfortable walking without angling one’s body toward the wall. Hansa, whose shoulders were broadest, seemed most off-­balance.

  Looking at the wall was easier than looking out, anyway. The edge of Naples’ spell was easy to recognize, because beyond it the air thickened and wavered like a heat-­mirage in the fading light. It was impossible to see across the well.

  Alizarin skidded up the stairs. He was still wearing his natural form when he came to a stop inches from Xaz, and she jerked back in reflex, slamming her shoulder into Cadmia. In the ensuing scuffle, Hansa let out a yelp and Umber cursed, probably as he kept his bond from tumbling off the side.

  Xaz didn’t spare a moment to look. Her eyes were on the Abyssi, whose monstrous form was coalescing into the more familiar furred body she knew.

  He looked as if someone had splattered him with paint—­if anyone had ever created a paint that shimmered in the light like the inside of an oyster shell.

  Naples, who had been traveling in the middle of their pack, pushed past Cadmia and Xaz along the open edge of the stairs as if unafraid to tumble into the well. “You’re hurt,” he exclaimed. “How much of that is yours?”

&nb
sp; Blood. Xaz wouldn’t have realized what the sparkly, lovely but viscous goo that covered Alizarin was, but Naples better knew what it looked like when an Abyssi bled.

  “Only some,” Alizarin replied vaguely. “It would be best if Dioxazine casts her spell before passing the third level.”

  “Here?” Xaz squeaked. “Now?”

  They had talked about waiting until after they passed the third-­level court, not to mention the fact that she had expected to be on level ground, where half her concentration wasn’t focused on not falling off the side.

  Naples turned to her with a look she had come to know well: a mixture of irritation, contempt, and impatience.

  “I just mean—­” She cleared her throat, which was dry from ash. “The third-­level Abyssi can see us, can’t they? The spell is only designed to hide power, not make us invisible. If I cast it, then they see us, they will know what we’re doing.”

  “I was unable to convince them that I have a right to claim all of you exclusively,” Alizarin answered patiently. “The lord of the third level insists you join him for a feast if you want to pass his court. He did promise me I could have you all back after?” The last sentence was questioning, accompanied by a tilt of his head that betrayed a jagged tear down the side of his face, only partly concealed by his fur.

  Xaz didn’t want to imagine what an Abyssi feast might include, but Naples, the crazy bastard, had the gall to look intrigued.

  “Feast?” Cadmia chirped tightly from the end of the line, as if her endless curiosity was warring with the knowledge that this probably wasn’t information she wanted in her head.

  “Cast the damn spell, girl,” Umber growled.

  Was Xaz misreading his face in the dim light, or was Naples trying not to laugh?

  Naples caught her gaze and must have seen the judgement in her expression. In explanation, he wondered aloud, “What do you think they could get Hansa and Umber to do by saying it was the only way to pass?”

  “Xaz?” Hansa prompted, the panic in his voice suggesting the answer to Naples’ question was, More than any of us want to imagine.

  “I’ll do the spell,” she said. “How do we stop them from then seeing us?”

  “As long as they cannot sense you, I can distract the court while you pass,” Alizarin answered. His color brightened and his ears lifted again with relief.

  “Will you be all right?” Cadmia asked.

  Alizarin grinned, as if he were not already covered with his own and others’ blood. “Abyssi do not kill each other casually,” he answered, as if “all right” and “dead” were the only two possibilities. “I will find you again before you reach the fourth-­level court.”

  He scurried back down the stairs, leaving Xaz with anxiety coating her tongue like sour milk. Could she do this?

  The Numini had sent her on this mission. They had to think she could succeed. But one of them had already failed once, hadn’t he? Did their influence really reach this deep into the Abyss?

  She looked up and down the stairwell, wishing there were somewhere more comfortable to work, then slipped past Naples and moved as far beyond him as she could without passing into the deadly heat of the Abyss.

  Their water was scarce and precious, but she knew better than to risk smearing grime on the tools she intended to use to reach for the Numini, so she used as much as she needed to wash her hands before kneeling on the narrow staircase and opening the leather pouch Naples had given her.

  Inside was a tiny glass vial filled with a clear, iridescent liquid that cast a pure silver glow, and a feather as long as her forearm the color of rose gold. The objects pulsed with power. Just holding them made her heart leap into her throat, skipping merrily, as if she had just seen an old friend in a crowd.

  Xaz rested the Numini’s feather across her palms, and reached mentally into and through it.

  I am here of your will, she said, casting the words to the Numen. An Abyssumancer could shed blood to invoke magic, but the Numen’s power was best directed through words. If that is the case, then I believe you must be listening for me.

  She pictured a sphere of soft white power around their group, acting as a veil between them and the eyes of the lower Abyssi.

  “I invoke the Numen realm for protection,” she said aloud. “I invoke you twice, to hide us from those who would harm us.” She couldn’t remember how young she had been when the Numini had taught her the power of a threefold invocation to cast and bind the magic. “I invoke you thrice, to—­”

  She didn’t get through the final words. Power rushed through her, striking like lightning and filling the sphere she had pictured with brilliance. The shock wave began at the edges of the circle and slammed inward, so she felt it flow first over and through Cadmia, recognizing her as kindred. Umber braced against the power, but even so it sent him to his knees, hands gripping the staircase as if to battle a hurricane’s wind. When it slapped Hansa, he stumbled and fell against the wall, then sprawled on the stairs with a painful thump.

  Then it hit Naples and the Abyssumancer cried out, shuddering as the Numini’s power raked over him and the carefully formed bubble of power he had cast to hold back the Abyss.

  Ears ringing and vision rippling, Xaz struggled to draw breath in a world that had suddenly become all smoke and ash. Her eyes, lungs, and skin burned as Naples’ magic contracted, hiding itself from the Numini like a turtle in its shell.

  “Naples!” she choked out.

  “Shit,” Naples hissed, unsteadily lifting himself onto his hands and knees.

  Naples didn’t give any warning; he crawled up the stairs until he reached Hansa and set a hand to the prone guard’s arm. “Sorry for the lack of foreplay,” he whispered, giving Hansa a very brief kiss before pushing him back against the stairs and opening his shirt.

  “What—­aack!”

  Naples straddled him and made a slash on Hansa’s chest, just above his heart. Not shyly, he locked his lips over the wound. At any other moment, Xaz might have been disgusted, but she could feel Naples desperately rebuilding the power protecting them. She struggled to keep her own magic from shying away from his.

  For an agonizing moment, she feared the two couldn’t coexist, but at last the heat and pressure slipped away and both protective spells solidified. Xaz was able to draw a full breath again, a sensation so wonderful it was hard to imagine it hadn’t dazzled her every other moment of her life.

  “Breathe, you damn girl,” Umber growled. Xaz looked past Hansa and Naples to find the spawn braced over Cadmia’s limp form. Xaz’s power had been gentler to the Sister of Napthol than it had been to anyone else, but the Abyss had not been as kind.

  Umber leaned down and set his lips to Cadmia’s, his breath making her chest rise and fall.

  Another breath, and finally Cadmia began to cough. “What . . .” Her voice was barely a squeak, and she cut off after one word with a grimace.

  “Don’t try to talk yet,” Umber advised. His voice was also hoarse, though not as bad. “You got a lungful of the Abyss. Naples lost the shield for a moment when Xaz’s spell took effect.” He glanced back to Naples to confirm; the Abyssumancer was still lying on the ground, but he let out an affirmative-­sounding grunt. “You were closest to the edge, and you’re most human.”

  Cadmia nodded, rubbing her throat.

  “Get the lady some water,” Naples advised.

  Umber nodded, and Hansa fished out the water. Cadmia drank a few, painful sips.

  “Did the spell—­” Hansa broke off halfway through the question when his voice broke. He helped himself to some of the water, then went back to Naples.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  Naples nodded, his hair shifting in the ash. “Check on Xaz.”

  “I’m fine,” Xaz said, as soon as the others had confirmed they were all right. Her brush with the Abyss hadn’t been pleasant
, but the Numini’s power rushing through her had protected her from the worst of it. She was more nervous about what the Abyssi in the third-­level court might have felt when her spell took effect and Naples’ snapped closed and back open. “I think we should move past the court and out of the light as quickly as possible. Alizarin might not be able to distract the other Abyssi long.”

  “Can you stand?” Umber asked Naples, who was still stretched out on the stairs.

  The Abyssumancer drew a deep breath, rolled onto his stomach, and pushed himself to hands and knees. “I think so.” All evidence of the energetic grace Xaz had envied was gone as he rose agonizingly to his feet.

  “Can you walk?” Hansa asked Cadmia, helping her up.

  “Can you?” she replied, when her tug on his hand made him wobble and need to catch his balance with a hand on the wall.

  “We can move slowly,” Xaz allowed, seeing the way the two humans stumbled, “but we need to move.”

  “We’re moving,” Umber said. He draped his arm around Hansa’s waist.

  This time Xaz led the way, and the others followed. Coated in ash, throats and lungs scorched, they limped onward.

  As they passed the maw of the third-­level court, they walked with soft, hurried footsteps, wincing at each crunch of loose scree, and the tiny splashes they made as they waded a shallow, hot stream that meandered through the open arch and cascaded over the edge. By tacit agreement, no one commented on the sounds they could hear from the court: snarls, growls, and howls mixed with noises that could not be named with mortal vocabulary.

  The well had never been bright, but now the limited light cast by luminescent creatures faded until they were groping their way down the stairs, feeling for the step-­edges with their shuffling feet. Naples summoned an orb of foxfire, but it was a faint, yellow creation that barely revealed the way even when it hovered only inches above the ground. He had it follow the edge of the stairs, so they could at least tell when there were sudden dips, and know where the stairs ended and the endless fall of the well began.