This time, the door sucked us inside like we had been flushed down a toilet, and I could have sworn I heard maniacal laughter in the distance.
Chapter 31
I opened my eyes to see Cain sitting across from me, sipping a scotch. He looked momentarily startled, sniffing at his drink, but then his eyes settled on Roland Haviar sitting beside him. Roland held a wine glass of blood extended out, awaiting Cain’s glass for a toast.
Cain’s confusion evaporated and he smiled, clinking glasses. “To another day in the land of the living,” he said, continuing a conversation that I couldn’t quite recall. Maybe I had dozed off again from the pain medication.
Roland turned to me, frowning at my hand. I blinked to realize I held the Spear of Destiny in my fist, propped up as if I anticipated needing it to stoke the fire before us. “You don’t have to carry it around like that, Callie,” my old mentor chuckled. “It’s not like you will ever need it. Hang it on the wall where it belongs. Let everyone see the source of our Salvation. The reason the war never touched us. The only reason we survived when the world broke in two.”
“I know, but I like holding it,” I said, suddenly remembering. I had taken away the Spear of Destiny, refusing to let either the Angels or Demons lay claim to it. I’d used the power of the Spear to make a safe-haven for my friends—a place where the war could not reach us. Beyond our dome of safety was only death and destruction, now.
“I’ll let that joke go. Too easy,” Claire said from the couch beside me, grinning.
I rolled my eyes at my best friend. “Has anyone seen Nate? I wanted to talk with him.”
The room went as silent as a speech at a funeral wake. I frowned, looking over at Roland. His smile had evaporated.
“Nate Temple died twenty years ago, Callie…” Claire said in barely a whisper, frowning at me with a concerned look.
“Oh…right,” I said, frowning in embarrassment.
Because I remembered. Nate had refused to join us, wanting to fight even though there was nothing to win without the Spear in play. Without all the new Horsemen Riding to battle.
But another thought seemed to be hammering at the base of my skull, giving me a headache. I almost felt like I had a fever. I could have sworn I had saved Nate at some point. Back when I had led the Shepherds. But…wait. Hadn’t the Conclave been Demon-possessed? Hadn’t Claire been possessed, too?
They’d wanted me to kill Nate Temple, hadn’t they?
I realized I was breathing faster, sitting up straight in my chair on the verge of a panic attack. Was this some kind of sick joke? Why was I sitting here doing nothing? Where were we? Where was everyone else? All my other friends?
“Wait…that’s not what happened,” I slurred tiredly. “You saw, Cain. You were there.”
“Is she teasing us?” Roland asked Cain. My friend, Cain, stared back at me, his face frozen in shock. But not at my comment, as if something I’d just said had concerned him very deeply. Or…had reminded him of something.
“I…think she’s kidding,” he finally murmured, his forehead furrowed. “We had a long trip back from Rome.”
Claire grunted. “You haven’t left the Den of Ed in years. No one has. Callie can’t even walk!”
I flinched abruptly, each comment striking me like a switch. The Den of Ed…That was a wasteland I had once seen…Why would we live there? I never would have named a place after it.
Cain was blinking rapidly like someone had just asked him to solve a math problem in his head. He locked eyes with me, shaking his head in confusion. “The Den of Ed…” he repeated, testing the foreign words on his tongue. “That’s not right. That can’t be right. Apples…”
I struggled to sit up straighter and almost lost my balance, even though I was seated. I stared down at my legs to find two withered old twigs for all the good they would do me. They were essentially just bone. I began sucking in breaths rapidly, panting. This wasn’t right. None of this was right. I couldn’t just sit here and do nothing. I began panting harder, shaking my head. “No, no, no, no…”
“Oh, sweetie,” Claire said, sounding heartbroken. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it like that. Without your sacrifice, we would all be dead. Please forgive me,” she pleaded, tucking a blanket over my legs and patting my bony thighs.
I tried to move them—to even make them twitch—and couldn’t. I was gulping air, now, shivering. I had always been a mover—jogging for fun, training with Roland, fighting monsters. I gripped the Spear tighter and it began to crackle.
Roland jumped to his feet. “Easy, Callie. Please give me the Spear. If you break it, our defenses will fall and we’ll be forced to fight!”
I stared up at my old mentor incredulously. “What…the fuck is wrong with you?” I screamed, spittle flying from my mouth. “Of course, we should be fighting!”
Cain was nodding, actually leaning forward interestedly, but Claire and Roland looked horrified.
“You robbed everyone so we wouldn’t have to fight, Callie. Don’t you remember? You brought it all here, taking away the most dangerous artifacts in the world to keep us safe. Took them to the one place they couldn’t get them.” He held up his hands, spinning in a slow circle. “Solomon’s Temple,” he said. “In the Den of Ed.”
Like a pricked bubble, I gasped. Roland looked suddenly relieved. “There, there. Do you remember now?” he asked, smiling compassionately.
I did. I remembered all too clearly. I had robbed Darling and Dear. Robbed Nate Temple. Robbed the Demons and Angels. I had been a thief, and I’d hoarded it all here, in my sanctuary—Solomon’s Temple. I’d invited my friends to come live in safety, and closed the doors on any who refused, naming the land around my palace The Den of Ed.
I’d remembered ignoring those who labeled me traitor, coward, thief, and a liar…
Because I hadn’t wanted to keep fighting, to keep sacrificing friends to a lost cause.
I’d offered them sanctuary. And most had refused. So many had died…
If I had been able to stand, I would have fallen to my knees in disgust of my own apathy…
I’d ended the world with my apathy. “They’re all dead…” I rasped, blinking back tears.
Roland nodded sadly, and I heard Claire sniffle. “You tried to tell them, but they wouldn’t listen. Their loss. We don’t need them.” Claire nodded her agreement to Roland’s claim.
I studied the two, shaking in disbelief. “You have it backwards…They. Needed. US!” I shrieked.
Cain’s lips were pulled back in a snarl, not even seeming to be aware of it. I ignored Roland and Claire, and locked eyes with Cain. He nodded subtly.
“Now look what you’ve done,” he abruptly snapped, jumping to his feet. He glared at both Roland and Claire. “You’ve startled her half to death! You know how she is on her bad days. How much her sacrifice cost her, not just physically, but emotionally! Go get her some tea. Now.”
Claire and Roland winced in unison, apologizing profusely. Then Claire bolted from the room as if afraid Cain might chase her with a switch.
Cain rounded on Roland. “Go get her a warmer blanket, and tell that infernal screaming to pipe the fuck down!”
Roland had taken two steps before Cain even finished speaking, but my mentor froze at the last comment. He slowly craned his neck to glance back at Cain from over his shoulder, frowning. “What are you talking about? I don’t hear any screaming.”
Cain didn’t miss a beat. “Thought I heard someone shouting in the background. Never mind. It’s gone now.”
Roland nodded uncertainly. “I’ll be right back. Don’t let Callie move. You know how stubborn she gets in her fits. She’s liable to try to run out of here and break her legs. Or the Spear. I’ll call the healer to come check on her, and I’ll make sure Claire doubles the pain medication in her tea.” He turned to me with a concerned smile. “We’ll get you some rest and you’ll feel like new in a few minutes.” Before I could scream in panic, he was gone, leaving me alone w
ith Cain.
I struggled to stand, suddenly terrified that he was going to help them put me to sleep. The batty, old protector of this wasteland needed her pain medication doubled. What had I done? Why had they let me do it? Had they been that afraid of war to let me commit such an atrocity?
Cain was suddenly scooping me up and I began beating at him, scratching at his face with my free hand, the large Spear too cumbersome to stab him with from this angle. He didn’t try to stop me, only spoke in a calm, measured voice. “Sister, if you’re in there, I need you to listen up. I see a Silver Door, so I hope you have the Seal handy. Does any of that make sense to you?” he asked, grunting as my fingers scored a sharp line across his cheek.
I froze, staring up at his face from inches away. Silver Doors. That was an escape of some kind, but I couldn’t remember where they led. “Cain? Is that really you?” I whispered.
He smiled. “More or less, no thanks to you,” he admitted, eyes flicking to my bloody nails. “Unless you’re just a crazy old lady who doesn’t remember why a Door is significant…” I let out a sob of relief, pressing my face into his unshaven neck, my entire body shaking.
He patted me on the back reassuringly. “I’m so weak, Cain. And they’re going to drug me. We have to get out of here before they get back!”
I heard steps outside from the hall and tensed. Cain was already moving, spinning me to face a Silver Door with about a dozen locks and bars on it as if it held the Devil himself on the other side. I was terrified of that Door for some reason. I couldn’t remember where it led, or what was on the other side, but I knew it had been a long time since I had fought anything.
What if it led to an army of monsters? I had the Spear of Destiny, but I couldn’t even stand.
I took a deep breath and heard an echoing gasp from the entrance to the room.
“What the hell are you doing?” Claire demanded, dropping a tray of cups. I heard Roland shouting and boots pounding up the stairs.
Then I felt magic blooming behind me and glanced over Cain’s shoulder to see Roland staring at Cain murderously. Crimson power crackled around his fists. “Release her, now, Cain!” he warned menacingly. “If the Spear exits that door, the protection vanishes and we will all die. I won’t let you do that.”
Claire stared at us, torn between attacking Cain and saving me, like I was the innocent victim in all of this. Then Roland made the decision for everyone and hurled power at us.
“Go, Cain!” I screamed, slamming the tip of my Spear into the center of the Silver Door as Cain dove for it.
The Silver Door exploded into splintered shards, and monstrous roars suddenly boomed through the opening like we really had just opened the Gates to Hell.
Roland’s blast missed us by less than a heartbeat as we crossed the threshold, and I heard Claire wailing in horror. “What have you done? You’ve killed us all!” What felt like a waterfall of warm oil washed over me, cleansing me of…
Something. I couldn’t remember what.
The sound of rushing wind and a demonic laughter filled my ears. I was falling, and decided I may as well have a scream. But I fell for longer than I could hold my scream. As I was getting ready for a second scream, I realized I wasn’t alone.
Cain was beside me, but he wasn’t screaming. He looked asleep.
Knowing we were about to die, I tried to remember something pleasant about my life. All sorts of memories came to mind—some happy, many terrifying or sad. But the strangest thing of all was…
I had no idea why I was falling.
And why was Cain falling with me?
Chapter 32
I waited for the moment I would splatter onto cold rocks like a Picasso impersonation, but we began hitting clouds. Frigid, wet clouds. They slowed our descent more than they should have, and we abruptly landed on a patch of cold stone no harder than if we had tripped over our shoelaces.
The laughter had grown increasingly louder as we fell and I scanned our surroundings in a frantic motion, trying to gauge the threat. I saw that we were on a spit of rock hanging in midair—a bridge of sorts with no other land in sight.
Cain lay motionless ahead of me, even when I poked his rear with the butt of my Spear. I risked a glance down at him, fearing I had used him to break my fall and killed him.
I hissed to find his back a wash of raw, burned flesh—still smoking in places. What the hell?
I poked him harder, seeing that he was breathing. “Get up, Cain. You have to get up…” I pleaded, growing increasingly panicked as I swept our surroundings.
Because it was familiar in a strange way. We were on a bridge. A long, thin bridge of stone hanging in midair. We were smack-dab in the center. Well, kind of. The bridge was evenly bisected by a thin line of dark and light. Half of the bridge extended off towards the light, revealing a blue sky and a white throne where the bridge became a circular island of sorts.
The other half of the bridge stretched off into a dark sky, ultimately leading to a black throne on another dark island. Cain lay on the illuminated side of the line, and I was seated on the dark side of the line.
The black throne closest to me was not empty. The occupant was the source of the laughter. I struggled to flip Cain over and was relieved to find that my legs were functional again.
I hesitated at such a bizarre thought. Of course they were functional. Had I hit my head in my fall? Why wouldn’t my legs have worked? I shook off the thought and physically began shaking Cain. He opened his eyes with a gasping groan, sitting up straight. He gritted his teeth at the obvious pain, but he had his priorities straight. They scanned the bridge like a predator until he found the source of the laughter.
His eyes narrowed and he struggled to his feet. I helped him, using my Spear to help support his bulk. We faced the creature from the center of the bridge, our boots halfway between light and dark. And I knew him.
Samael began to clap as he descended from the black throne, his laughter fading to an amused chuckle. “Well, well, well, look at what the cat dragged in…” he mused, his cloven hooves grinding down upon the stone bridge at the base of his throne. I could hear faint chains as he moved. Almost like chainmail.
I remembered meeting another Demon named Amira in this exact place before. She had taunted me mercilessly, trying to get me to use the Spear of Destiny against her. But each step I had taken closer to the dark throne had weakened the Spear, and each step closer to the light throne had strengthened it. The two bands of black that marked where the Spear had been broken into thirds were slightly brighter than I remember, but somehow also darker.
I tried to step back, knowing that the Spear still wasn’t fully repaired, and that we just might need its power to survive the next few minutes against the Greater Demon.
Samael approached, white teeth emerging from his black visage. “Go ahead. You’re going to need it at full strength in a few moments,” he said politely. “I don’t need to deceive you. Not this close to the end of your miserable existence.”
I began shuffling back, feeling the Spear of Destiny growing stronger with each step, the fractures rebuilding infinitesimally. Not approaching its original strength, but much stronger than it had been moments ago. Something had happened to it recently, breaking it further, but I couldn’t recall what that was.
My mind felt so fuzzy.
But my strength was alive and well. I could feel my muscles twitching in anticipation, ready for a fight. And I could feel the Silvers in my blood, snarling to be let loose.
I studied Samael as he continued his approach, forcing us into a corner—into the light where the white throne sat. He was just a ten-foot-tall figure in black, what looked like a cloak trailing him for about another ten feet like an ebony bridal gown. The only features I could make out were his white teeth, his fiery red eyes, and the strange clinking sound.
He finally reached the line demarking the light and grunted. Then he stepped over it.
Smoke lifted from his hooves and I heard him gri
nding his teeth, but he kept advancing, more of him entering the light, and more of him smoking as a result. I had never actually seen him before, but I knew him deep in my soul. His very presence was a declaration of his name, no matter what body he possessed.
I stared in disbelief, understanding that the light was torturing him and that he also didn’t care. I also noticed that his flesh was made of tarnished silver coins, and his hair and beard were made of scored, tarnished silver chains—the source of the clinking sound. But despite the texture of his skin, his features were…beautiful. Stunningly cruel, but perfect in every way.
His upper body was bare and not as heavily muscled as I would have thought. He was lean and emaciated, but his skin was also flawless and I got the sense that he was just hungry—that he hadn’t eaten in a while and would flesh out easily once he fed.
His lower body was that of a goat, ending in cloven hooves the size of my head, and entirely covered in fur made of more chains. His cloak seemed made of patched leather, and I suddenly felt queasy, thinking they were about the right size for scalps.
Human scalps.
Cain began to snarl defiantly, holding out his bone dagger before him in warning. “Leave her alone. You want a fight, I’m right here, Samantha.”
Samael rolled his eyes—I’m not sure how I knew, since they were simply orbs of red fire—and continued his advance. “You are already destined to join my brothers in Hell, Cain. Unfortunately, you won’t be seeing Abel anytime soon. He got a free pass upstairs.”
Cain laughed loudly, straightening his shoulders to shake my arm off and step between us. “You think I don’t know that, Samantha?” he scoffed. “That I haven’t thought about that every single day since I killed him?”
Samael shrugged, not seeming even remotely annoyed at Cain’s nickname for him. Then he glanced over his shoulder, back at the black throne. Lightning flared in the distance, and a steady, rumbling growl reached our ears, revealing roiling clouds as if something was approaching through the sky. The lightning flashed again and I caught a faint silhouette of a massive figure on a throne, his wings flared out high above his shoulders as if stretching his arms above his head after a long nap.
Sinner: Feathers and Fire Book 5 Page 19