Cerberus placed his hind legs on the platform and looked up into the first mist-filled pit from which we’d descended. The platform lurched and rippled, and on the far side, an edge broke away and tumbled into the valley below.
“How will we get up there?” William’s voice muffled against my back.
“Cerberus, can you jump?” The hound barked and backed up as if to leap, then yelped as the ground fell away beneath his feet. He scampered forward onto solid ground. “There’s no time to think about it; we go or we’re trapped here. We have one chance, guardian. Make the leap!”
And the instant the ground bucked again, Cerberus bent and sprang upward, and I held my breath as he leaped into the mist. William’s fingers dug into my ribs as Cerberus’s claws sank into the sides of the pit. I held my eyes shut and squeezed my legs as tight as my remaining strength would allow, feeling the strong pull downward as we ascended while fully vertical to the ground below.
Despite the shaking of the Abyss, despite the rocks that plummeted close to our heads from above—one inch to the left or the right and William and I would be done for—finally, Cerberus crested and hauled us over the edge.
We had no time to slow. Cerberus trotted to the next ledge and, as soon as the way was clear of mourning souls, bounded up and up and up, until we reached the Furies’ gates. Through those we went, ignoring the shrieks of the winged ones for our insolence, and moments later we were inside the Living Wood, tree branches whipping past our heads and necks.
What a wonder that, when we first entered the wood with my father and Samia, it had taken so long to reach the other side. But now, on the back of a hellhound, we slipped through it in the space of a deeply drawn breath.
As the entrance to the forest neared, my nausea began anew. The blood river was ahead, the place where Lorenz had fallen, and though I suspected Cerberus wouldn’t be pulled under by the grasping corpse shore, I didn’t see how we would cross from one side to the other with only one talisman and three party members.
I had forgotten that the first time we crossed, Cerberus was occupied elsewhere. I had also forgotten that a hound, when well motivated, can perform feats far greater and more agile than we often give credit for.
He did not slow as we approached the forest entrance. He did not slow as we broke through and approached the corpse shore. He did not slow when his front paws touched the edge of the Styx.
Cerberus simply jumped.
We landed on the opposite side without a break in stride and kept going.
The banquet room, that hall of greed, looked just as I had remembered, and I wondered if our guardian might falter at the entrance to his domain, or if Jealousy still slunk in the shadows. But Cerberus held fast to the course, and I was wholly grateful for it. For the first time in any of these circles, I felt the pull of its vice. If we had remained there for any measure of time, I swear I would have succumbed like all the rest. But Cerberus pressed on, through the hall, through the first tunnel, and into the path of driving rain.
Upward still he ran, and we passed through the rain to the lustful vortex, but I closed my eyes and thought about Edward and my father instead of William’s arms looped at my waist. And still the ground rumbled, and still the walls threw down its stones at our heads, and still I wondered if we would escape this place unscathed.
We passed Minos, who raised his hand in salute, though he appeared mildly perplexed by our reappearance. That moment—his surprise at our passing—told a story I did not want to hear.
Why surprise? Surprise can only reflect the unexpected, meaning that Minos had expected none of us to return, and no other had passed this way. My father had not yet come down this path.
Where was my father?
There was no time for musing and contemplation, so on we went, up and up, to the throngs of shambling spirits, up and up, to the dock where we awaited Charon’s boat. Since it wasn’t there, I held a brief hope that perhaps he had just ferried across my father and that Minos had missed seeing him—he might have been resting, or distracted, or …
I am very good at self-deception. I do not consider it an admirable trait.
Cerberus began to shrink beneath us.
“Can’t he swim across?” William asked as we slid off the hound’s back. In the distance, Charon’s light appeared, and my anxiety increased. Couldn’t he row faster? Stones and debris tumbled into Acheron with a splash, and if I were a gambling type, I might have bet that entire circles of hell were doomed to collapse at any moment. If we didn’t remove William’s talisman from these depths, its holy light might bring the walls down around us.
“There must be an etiquette,” I said, for Cerberus sat at the edge of the dock, his pointed ears flattened, tail thumping once every few moments in agitation. “This is another guardian’s realm, and these waters may also contain dangers we don’t see.”
Cerberus glanced at me as if to confirm, and as Charon drew closer, I feared that the hound would leave us once we boarded the boat—but he did not, for he had agreed to escort us to the far shore, the full journey, and so he too climbed inside.
When Charon did not cast off as soon as we boarded, I did as my father had instructed.
“The fare has been paid, ferryman,” I reminded him. “You are bound to take us across.”
“Perhaps there is a new tax,” William said, and to my utter shock and mild delight, there was a touch of mirth in his eyes and in his voice. “You know how my father is always going on about the state of the roads.”
My laugh turned into a shriek as a boulder plunged into the water beside us, but by some marvel it did not tilt the boat, nor did the splashing waters reach us.
And so it was with a greater sense of ease that we journeyed to the far shore. By the time we disembarked, the quaking earth was a distant rumble, a remnant of our presence as the consequence cascaded through the circles.
With one hand each on Cerberus’s back, the hound guided us though the throngs of waiting spirits until finally, finally, we reached the door that I had opened, the door which led to the spiraling steps, back to daylight and the world above.
My father wasn’t there.
“How long did you want to wait?” William asked. “He might be right behind us.”
I nodded, but I didn’t know if I believed that. Why hadn’t Minos expected us? So many stones and walls had fallen, blocking the way. Was my father trapped? Calling for help? Desperate for someone, anyone to come save him—
“Ellison.”
I snapped out of my trance. William’s hands gripped my shoulders.
“Ellison, we can wait as long as you want, but remember that neither of us has had food or water for a very long time, and if we remain in this place for much longer … well, I don’t want to assume too much, but how long do you think the door will remain open?”
I stared, suddenly comprehending.
I had opened the portal to the Abyss with my powers, powers that I no longer possessed. William’s renewed talisman was trying to purge the place of evil, purifying where it could, and if it couldn’t bring the underworld to its utter end …
“It’s only a matter of time before the veil is closed,” I breathed.
William nodded with a hint of sadness. “If we stay here much longer, I fear we’ll be trapped.”
We could not wait. Either my father came or he didn’t—or maybe he’d already gone before us, unnoticed by Minos, thinking perhaps I too had already left to escape the destruction.
“We leave, and we live,” William said. “We stay, and we might not. But I promised to see this through with you, and so you decide. I’ll trust your decision.”
My breath hitched. It was an impossible choice. I couldn’t bring us all this way only to risk William’s life yet again. I’d already done so far too many times, and taken too great advantage of his trust.
He needed to live.
I turned to the door. “We go,” I said, and William
nodded. He followed, and we stood on the threshold, the exit to take us back to the living world.
Cerberus, however, did not.
41
The Companion
I looked back at the hound. He sat exactly where I had found him, on his haunches at the entrance to the underworld. This time, however, instead of swivelling ears, bright eyes, and a wagging tail, his chin and ears drooped, and his wide, expressive gaze regarded me with an undeniable sadness.
“Oh, Hund.” I said, calling him by the name I’d chosen at our first meeting. I stepped quickly back to him and threw my arms around his neck. I’m not ashamed to admit I dissolved into tears in an instant. His fur grew wet as shuddering sobs rose from a place deep inside, and although I didn’t realize it at the time, I know now that I wasn’t weeping only for the loss of this loyal friend—of which I had very few—but also for the loss of the others.
Peter. Lorenz. My mother. Possibly, almost certainly, my father. And now Cerberus.
When I caught my breath, I drew back as Cerberus licked my face, no doubt enjoying the salty tears, but also doing what he could to offer comfort.
“I wish you could come with us,” I whispered. “I know your place is here, and I know that I no longer have the powers that drew you to me in the first place, but I wish you could come and meet Edward. He would love you so very much, and so would Liesl, who is kind and loving to everyone, if a little obstinate at times. But we all are, in our own way. We have stables and horses, and at the palace you’d have a warm bed and sunshine and soft grass to roll in—but you’ve never seen sunshine or grass, have you? Oh, but you could run so fast and so free in the fields … ” And I descended into ugly, painful sobbing once more. He nuzzled my shoulder and I thought that I should leave, for time was running short and he might not even wish to come with me.
Or perhaps he could not. Perhaps he was bound here.
But when I pulled away, his wide eyes looked into mine, and I thought I saw him ask permission. His gaze flicked quickly, so quickly, to the space behind me. Where William stood. The paladin, Protector of Light. And here I was, begging a guardian of hell to remain by my side, calling a hellhound a friend.
The Paladin Council would never allow it.
“So long as I live and breathe and serve the Almighty,” William said, and I startled first to hear his voice before steeling myself for the denial. “This hound is welcome in the kingdom.”
My breath caught, and I whirled about to face him. “But why? Does his very existence not counter everything you stand for and believe in?”
“Ellison, I believe in mercy and redemption. I don’t know how this creature was created or came to be here. But I do know that the moment he was met with a righteous quest, and a sweet girl with intent to protect her mother’s immortal soul walked through this doorway, he appeared without hesitation and has remained by our side the entire journey, even at personal cost.”
“But I conjured him. I called him.”
“Did you?”
I thought back on how I had called a spirit for help without designs on conjuring one particular spirit or another, and how he had come. Eagerly, over and over, as though he’d known I would need help. As though he’d known of a plot against me that would bring me here.
As if he had known I would need a friend to tarry through.
I looked back at Cerberus with amazement and awe, and he thumped his tail once.
“You clever beast,” I said. “You marvelous, clever beast. But William … are you certain you see it that way?”
“Of course,” he said, and a small, sheepish grin stole across his lips. “And besides, I’ve grown rather fond of him too. If anyone has a problem, they can answer to me.”
As if knowing, Cerberus stood, tail gently swaying.
“Come on, then,” I said. “It looks like you have a new home now, if you wish. You may choose, as you clearly did before when I first asked for help.”
He yelped and leaped forward, rising on his hind legs to plant his paws on my shoulders and lick my face as he had when we’d first met. As I laughed, he dropped down and trotted through the door, leaving the infernal Abyss and all its horrors forever more, leading the way back to the realm above.
42
The Return
My sore legs complained as we ascended the winding steps. The stairs were far too narrow for Cerberus to change form, but on more than one occasion I rested against his back for support. William suggested that I might ride Cerberus like a small pony, and the hound himself seemed to agree, but truthfully, I feared falling asleep and slipping off—and there was nowhere to go but down, far down, onto the hard stone below. The higher we climbed, the greater the risk, and I did not wish to tempt any further dangers now that we were so close to the end.
I couldn’t help but think what might become of Edward if neither I nor Father returned. He might have been growing up quickly, but he was still a child all the same, and I doubted the king would willingly take him in as a ward.
In time, light filtered down to us from the sky above. Daylight shone brighter as the minutes passed and as we drew closer, I began to crave the sensation of its warmth on my skin. I had no concept of how long we had spent below, though our ability to survive without food and with little water suggested it hadn’t been more than a few days since we’d lost our packs. At least William had eaten everything in his pack, so perhaps he’d had a reserve to draw on before receiving his boon. Without my powers to give me strength, however, my mouth and throat had become parched and unbearable.
“When we reach the palace,” William said, pausing for a moment to regard me with resolve, “I’m going straight to my father and telling him that we’re to be married at once.”
I nearly fell down the steps in surprise. “Well, that is unexpected.”
He cocked his head and winked. Who was this boy? “Is it? I think it’s long overdue. Uh, unless, of course, you’ve changed your mind.” He spoke the last with a rush of worry, and I shook my head, reaching out to reassure him.
“Of course, I haven’t. But do you actually think he’ll allow it? We both defied him. You broke a prisoner out of her cell. And besides, after all I’ve done … ”
William sighed heavily, wrapped an arm around my waist, and drew me to his side. “How many times must I tell you? I love you for you, not because of your powers or lack of powers, or what you can do for me. And these mistakes you’ve made? Need I remind you of my own shortcomings? Love doesn’t come and go with the breeze, beloved. We misstep, we repent, we find a way to do and be better next time, and we move forward.”
“It’s not so simple as that. It can’t be. I brought you here, and the loss … if not for me… ”
He kissed my forehead, my lips, the tip of my nose. “I chose to come, Ellison. You brought me nowhere. And now we leave together, with perspective and growth. And I, for one, am tired of being denied agency by my father. I’m tired of you being undervalued and dismissed, despite every good act you’ve done, simply because our families believe different things.”
I swallowed down the truth he had obviously not overheard in the cavern. All those good things I’d done? Had not been good at all. According to Celia—
Hmm. Celia’s words. Did I trust her statements regarding the consequence of my actions? That the torn veil had allowed as many evils into the world as I had thought we were taking out?
And because I was so tired, because I could not be certain that it had been another of Celia’s lies or efforts to intimidate, I said nothing. Instead, I smiled, and he returned it, and we proceeded upward.
“What will you say first?” I asked as the first rays of sunlight began to stretch toward us. I gasped in delight as a beam touched my skin, warm and soothing. “I should go to Edward and retrieve him from Liesl. She’s done me a great favor that I’m uncertain how to repay.”
“Good idea,” William said, speaking over his shoulder. We had almost reach
ed the top—so close to freedom from the dark and dingy depths, and my excitement grew with each step. “And I think it will be wise for me to speak with my father alone, before—”
“You can speak to him now,” said a voice above us. A face peered down into the pit and arms suddenly reached in to grab us under the shoulders, so close were we to the lip of the opening. I might have welcomed the assistance for my spent limbs, but those who gripped me did so with such force, and held on so tightly, that I cried out in surprise and pain.
“Release us immediately,” William demanded as he was pulled over the edge, and I shrieked again as I was lifted off the stairs and dropped ungracefully onto the earth. Cerberus growled and lunged, barking as he leapt out of the pit at the soldiers who surrounded us. The shrill ring of drawn streel filled me with panic, and I tried to call my will out of instinct to protect my friend—but of course, I had the gift no longer.
“Don’t touch him!” I yelled and made a failed attempt to stand as William drew his sword and held it aloft. It was still encrusted with Celia’s blood. Apparently, there had been no time to clean the blade while the Abyss collapsed around us.
I watched in revulsion as a soldier swung at a lunging Cerberus—the only soldier brave enough to take on a hellbeast, it seemed—but as the sword arced through the air, William caught it with his own and easily knocked the soldier’s weapon from his hands.
“Leave this hound,” William shouted. “The next one to strike at this dog will feel the sting of my blade.”
The soldiers took a step back, wary but clearly divided in mind. They appeared to be acting on orders, for two men scrambled to grab my arms and haul me to my feet. I cursed and struggled to escape, and Cerberus’s lips curled over his dagger-like teeth, eyes yellow and blazing as they zeroed in on the men who held me.
“Hold,” William said to the hellhound. “They won’t hurt her, will they.” He spoke a statement, not a question. The soldiers looked nervously at each other, until one finally spoke up.
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