Clipped Wings

by J. P. Rice

  He squinted, and his facial features wrinkled into a serious look. “Don’t talk like that. I can see this is rocking you, and I understand. When the sorcerers kidnapped Fukutama, I was all torn up on the inside. He’s more of a father to me than my dad ever was. The only reason he got kidnapped was because I’d involved him in our case.”

  “At least Fukutama is still alive. Alayna is dead because of me.”

  Felix tilted his head to the side and spoke softly, “She’s not with us anymore because of the demon implant in your calf, not because you willingly betrayed her.”

  “But I let Montidore put the implant in me. By extension...”

  He cut me off, “You said it was either that or die. Listen, you can tell the Celtic Gods I’ll take the lead on the Pittsburgh front until you can clear your head of all this. Maybe that’s a year. Maybe that’s five. But this isn’t permanent. And if I need your help, you better be there.”

  I smiled and couldn’t believe he’d finally gone for it. “Absolutely. I’m not turning my back on Pittsburgh, I just need a little rest from it all. Sounds crazy since I’m not even twenty-four yet.”

  The server dropped off my sandwich and a smile enveloped my mouth. A burger patty, sweet and sour coleslaw, French fries and some provolone cheese had been slapped between two slices of soft Italian bread. I lifted the top piece of bread on the split sandwich, grabbed the hot sauce off the table and doused the coleslaw. Mmmmmm.

  I picked up half of the sandwich, and said, “Thanks Felix. I knew I could count on you.” I sank my teeth into the goodness of the Pittsburgh classic.

  Gazing out the big window to my right, I noticed a blurry white object racing toward the window. Expecting a thud, I turned away at the last moment. But the thud never came. I turned back to the window and noticed a white owl hovering, beating her wings and beckoning me. What did Blodeuwedd want now?

  Chapter 3

  Arriving in Clara Spiritus at night was always a treat. The red roses lit up the landscape like bright Christmas lights, leading the way through the green valley between the two mountains. I went over my spiel in my head. Nervous energy danced around my body as I wondered how the Gods would react to my proposition.

  When I’d taken the oath, they had never specified a particular term of duty. Alayna had led me to believe that it was a lifetime appointment, but nothing was ever said. My palms and underarms leaked perspiration as I entered the cave of the Gods.

  Walking in with Blodeuwedd, I noticed Cernunnos, the Dagda and Cerridwen. Lurking in the corner was a God I’d never been introduced to. It wasn’t necessary, though. I recognized the Morrigan. And she scared the shit out of me.

  All the Gods except the Morrigan were smiling and seemed happy. This was strange. The whole scene was strange.

  The room had been cut out of the base of the mountain. There were a few circular stone tables, several cauldrons that Cerridwen was stirring and torches ensconced in the walls, illuminating the scene. The Gods were sitting down at one of the tables. Cerridwen continued mixing her cauldrons and the Morrigan lurked in the corner.

  The Goddess of Death in attendance did not bode well for me. It could only mean one thing. This was it. They were going to kill me for allowing Alayna to die. The Morrigan could claim my soul once the job was finished and they could assign a new guardian for Pittsburgh.

  The Morrigan sported a goth look with a gaunt, pale face and red eyeshadow streaking back to her ears. She had wild obsidian hair and wore silver hoop earrings and black lipstick. Her body was wrapped in a cloak fashioned from raven feathers. The cloak hung to her knees where it met her black leather boots with red laces.

  From across the room, her light blue eyes appeared to have red irises. The flickering firelight illuminating the room seem to gather in the whites of her eyes and made them utterly entrancing. Her gaunt face would lead you to believe that she had a skinny body, but it was solid, like a gymnast’s. The taller woman looked like she could kick some serious ass.

  I decided to go through with my plan. Perhaps if they knew I was stepping back from the magic game, they would take some mercy on me. Long shot, but my only shot right now. “I really need to talk to you all about something important.”

  The God of the Wild scratched his scalp, his long hair moving around in reaction. Cernunnos had baby chicks peeping out of his wild beard. He selectively fed them sunflower seeds and said, “It just so happens that we need to speak to you about something extremely important too.”

  No reason to delay the inevitable. “All right. Why don’t you all go first?”

  Cernunnos pushed his little friends back into the depths of his beard and set the rest of his seeds on the table. His serious gaze landed on me and he said, “We were given some faulty intelligence in regards to Alayna.”

  “Faulty intelligence. What are you talking about?” A minute spark flashed in my damaged soul.

  The God of Power said, “We’ve received word from several sources that Alayna is still alive.” The Dagda rubbed his chin and his exposed biceps bulged. The shorter God with orange hair and freckles was dressed in tight robes, which exposed his massive frame.

  A reparative lightning bolt zapped into my shattered heart, putting all the broken pieces back together. My chest heaved with excitement and a warm buzzing surrounded my heart. Redemption was still available. “That’s great news.”

  Blodeuwedd smiled in a motherly way. Her soothing voice rang off the stone wall, “We thought you would like it. You must begin your journey to save her now. We can’t waste time.”

  Before I jumped right in like I normally would, I felt a pang in my shoulder. It felt like Burn pinching me, reminding me of something important that I’d forgotten. I actually had more than just myself to think about for the first time. “I just need to go home to my family and tell them what is going on. I’ll come right back.”

  The Dagda drank his fortified wine and before he set his glass back down, he spoke in his soft voice, which clashed with his professional bodybuilder appearance, “I’m afraid we can’t do that. What we can do is send a message that Blodeuwedd will take to your family for you. You can even dictate it if you wish.”

  Cernunnos picked up the seeds again and the peeps popped back out of his beard, begging for a treat. He fed them while staring at me. “Did you read up on the material we gave you about your choices?”

  “I did. I think I’ll go with the one that had the highest success rate of revival.”

  Blodeuwedd announced, “Death by freezing it shall be. We will take you down to a special chamber for that procedure soon.”

  The Gods experimented on bringing back bodies that had died in numerous ways. Bringing someone back from freezing to death had an 82% success rate. The next closest method was asphyxiation, which carried a 52% success rate. So the decision wasn’t exactly a difficult one.

  The Dagda stood up and stretched out. “Before you undergo the procedure, we will give you some help on your journey to Hell. A trusty guide would be nice, but we thought two guides would be even better. I believe you know this man,” he said, pointing at the opening of the cave.

  In walked my convivial guardian angel, garbed in burgundy robes and appearing stone cold sober. So he straightened his act out for the Gods, not for me. “At your service, Micheal,” he said regally and bowed his head slightly.

  “Good to see you again.” I wasn’t sure if Artoise was the perfect guide to take me through Hell. He did well when he could stop time, but he seemed a bit skittish when it came to blood and guts.

  Artoise De La Croix had been assigned my guardian angel. The tall, bald Frenchman was a soul with substance. That meant he could feel the pleasures of the flesh, which carried a lot of weight with him. He watched my life in real time and could jump in if I got in too much trouble.

  “And your other guide is right there,” Cernunnos said, pointing to an open area of the cave.

  I rubbed my eyes to make sure I wasn’t missing anything. When my e
yelids opened back up, a hellhound was standing in the area Cernunnos had been pointing to.

  The God of the Wild said, “This is a shadow hellhound named Darkwing.”

  I moved closer and circled around the huge, panting animal. “But he or she doesn’t have wings.”

  The Gods looked at each other, snickering. They were laughing at me. Gods or not, Mike Merlino didn’t take kindly to people laughing at him. The warm feeling around my heart began to turn into flames of anger. I leaned down and petted the back of her neck and then right behind her ears.

  Before I could get too pissed, Blodeuwedd spoke in her soothing tone, “She does not right now. However, she can disappear into the darkness as if she is being carried away by a magical set of wings. She should prove valuable to your effort.”

  I didn’t get the fucking joke.

  “Thank you.” The hellhound made me more confident about the trip, but would she listen to me? Or how would she know when to help me? As if the hound was reading my mind, she licked my face and barked.

  The Dagda spoke from behind me, “You will have one more person keeping an eye on you, uh, from a distance I should say.”

  My eyes and forehead wrinkled in confusion as I turned around to face the God of Power.

  The Dagda said, “The Morrigan will be lurking as she always is. Albeit, this will be from a much closer proximity. She just needs to remain close in case she has to claim something you’ve left behind.”

  The Morrigan commented from the corner of the room. “In the world of souls, yours is prime real estate, my friend.”

  It was creepy to hear the Goddess of Death call me friend. I’d rather she didn’t even know who I was. The Morrigan had helped me before in supernatural fights. She’d given me the assistance of her beloved black crows to defeat a two-hundred-year-old warlock.

  But you never wanted the Goddess of Death standing close to you.

  Blodeuwedd led me into another cave with a dark corridor. We wound around the bowels of the mountain and entered a small room with two giant ice blocks in the center of the torch lit room. Blodeuwedd left and the grandfatherly Dian Cecht entered the room with two assistants whom I didn’t recognize.

  The old, gentle looking God of Healing said, “Micheal. Good to see you again. Are you ready for this experience?”

  “I guess so,” I stated flatly.

  Dian Cecht pointed at the two blocks of ice, sending a silent signal to his assistants. “Don’t sound too enthused, young man.”

  I looked at him apologetically.

  He said, “Don’t worry. I know there is a lot going on inside that cranium there. This will be the easy part. All you have to do is lie on this block of ice here. We’ve cut it to your exact body measurements so it should fit right over you.”

  I walked up to the ice block on the right and slid into the mold, which was fit perfectly to my body. His assistants lifted up the other block and gently placed it over the top of my body. I could still breathe. A hole had been cut in the ice from the piece placed over my nostrils.

  The chill danced up my spine and I wanted to shake but the ice block kept my body completely still. My breathing and blood flow slowed. I could feel my organs threatening to shut down. Everything started to grind to a halt. My thoughts were in slow motion until they came to a stop.

  Would my soul escape my body? Would I make it to hell and get Cerberus’s tooth? Or would I die right here in the middle of a block of ice?

  Chapter 4

  After traveling for hours down a dark, steep and winding slope, Artoise and I got into Charon’s boat, which was docked on the River Styx. Artoise handed him two coins and the guide stared at them intently. Seemingly satisfied, he stuffed them into the folds of his black cloak and I heard them clank against some other coins.

  I felt strange wearing burgundy robes and sandals, but apparently that was the attire for hell. Reaching inside the robes, I rubbed the little pocket and felt the object inside. I couldn’t lose that.

  The ferryman pulled the oar out of the water and reached back like a baseball player. I lifted my left arm in front of my face in reaction. Instead of attacking me, Artoise swung the oar forward and beat back two people in togas attempting to get into the boat. Charon reversed is grip, jabbed one man in the gut and used the leverage to push us out on the river.

  The water was black like oil with a shine on top that reflected the dull moonlight. Looking around the river, there were floating bodies that were on fire. They were paddling above the surface and seemed to be searching for something.

  Artoise asked Charon, “How are you doing?”

  The skinny ferryman with wrinkled gray skin pulled the hood of his cloak back and tilted his head to the side. “How am I doing? How am I doing, he asks?”

  Artoise inched away from Charon and spoke defensively, “Just a question. I didn’t mean anything malicious.”

  Charon used the oar to spear a flaming body reaching for the boat. “I’ve been under the earth’s surface for thousands of years. I take the people’s souls to hell and then I take the noble souls back across the Styx so they can return to the earth. And all the while, here I am. Stuck in constant darkness on this little piece of shit boat. So yes, I loathe my job.”

  We hadn’t really asked about the job specifically, but okay. I commented, “Yeah, they could at least give you an outboard motor or something.”

  Charon looked at me, nodding. He stopped paddling and let the current take us. “Right? Thank you. I’ve been saying that for years. Hades doesn’t respect me or my work.”

  “Why don’t you just leave?” Artoise asked as if it was a revolutionary thought that had never crossed the ferryman’s mind over the last millennia.

  Charon used his sleeve to wipe off his sweat covered face. “Hades would track me down and do unspeakable things to me before finally killing me. He is a Greek God, you know.”

  I knew some Gods. I knew life could be a lot shorter if you crossed them too. Considering Hades was the God of the Underworld, he was the last deity you wanted to cross. But Charon’s job sounded like it sucked.

  “We are familiar with his stature,” Artoise spoke for both of us. “Sorry about your luck.”

  Charon let out an awkward laugh. “Luck? Luck? There is no such thing. Part of my responsibilities include notifying souls who enter our underworld of the rules.”

  “Rules? I didn’t know there were rules in Hell.” I peered out over the water and saw Darkwing’s head bobbing above the dark waters, keeping pace with the canoe.

  Charon said, “Now you do. And listen closely because I don’t repeat myself.”

  “Okay,” said Artoise, and I just nodded.

  He announced, “There are eight circles of Hell.”

  Artoise interrupted him, “Eight? Dante Alighieri would say otherwise.”

  “Dante, Dante, Dante. I’m so sick of hearing his name invoked down here.” He spat out into the waters. “His writing is fiction. Pure and simple. Never forget that. Now, if I may?”

  I said, “Please proceed.”

  Charon fought off another flaming body who’d gotten too close to the boat. “There are eight layers of Hell. You will be stopped at every level and you will have to prove your worthiness of the next level. If your sins are enough in value, you will plunge to the next level of Hell. Pass all the tests and you might just get to meet Hades.”

  Artoise commented, “That doesn’t sound like a reward.”

  Charon took a few deep breaths, exhaling audibly. “Stop interrupting me or I will turn this boat around right now. Don’t tempt me to do it. I’ll send you right back to earth.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Artoise. He saluted Charon for some reason.

  Charon seemed to appreciate the sign of respect. He puffed his chest out and spoke in a deeper throat, “That’s more like it. If you are deemed unworthy of the next level, you will be trapped on your current level until you can convince the gatekeeper otherwise. Some souls have been trapped on the same
levels for thousands of years.”

  I wanted to ask a few questions, but thought better of it.

  Charon went on, “I can see that both your souls still have human substance. If you should die here, wherever that may be, get comfortable because you will be here until the end of eternity. Some of the foolish souls still believe that they are going to be sent to heaven someday. Fools. You can be rejected too. Some souls aren’t ready for death and some souls aren’t worthy of Hell.”

  Sounded so weird to hear the phrase ‘worthy of Hell.’ I almost didn’t want to pass the tests because that would mean I was a terrible person. I didn’t want to be worthy of Hell. And could someone be worthy of heaven and hell? People could be half good and half evil. Was there a proper mix?

  Charon kept paddling with his enormous oar, swatting away flaming hands trying to get into the boat and pushing us closer to the place in which nobody wanted to end up.

  “Where exactly is Cerberus?” I asked, getting down to business.

  Charon peered up at the dark sky as he continued to paddle. “He can be anywhere from the first level to all the way down to number eight.”

  Maybe I could get lucky and he would be near the entrance. With my luck, I’d be foolish to bank on that. Plan B, huh? My reckless nature screamed at me to just run through every level, laying everything to waste as I went.

  However, if I died, I would be trapped in hell forever. Most of the other times I’d almost died in the past, I had been performing a noble task. I’d thought if I’d died during an act like that, I’d surely gain entry into heaven. This situation was cut and dried. Die here and I wouldn’t leave here.

  Maybe it wasn’t so bad around here. Or perhaps you just had to get used to it. That line of thinking instantly dissolved as I looked at the flaming bodies floating on Styx and a shrill song of pain came from the entrance of the mountain in the distance ahead.

  The river veered to the right and the opening in the mountain disappeared. A rich green landscape appeared with a white castle on top of a small hill. Seven golden gates had been built in front of the main entrance. Not what I’d expected in hell.