The Elder grinned back at me, nodding. “No worries.” The crazy bastard looked eager to get a few moments of privacy in this land of death. Maybe to go pick berries or something.
I lay down, staring up at the rock overhang and the decaying trees dripping with red rain. I didn’t think it was possible to get any sleep in this place. I was too amped up.
I closed my eyes.
Chapter 38
I dreamed.
I wandered the grounds of Chateau Falco in a slow, fast-forward, enough to notice everything without it being a blur. I saw Chateau Defiance, my old crumbled fort tucked away in the woods.
The dream shifted to show Othello working in my office, muttering under her breath.
Shift.
Yahn casting furtive looks down a hallway before a pair of scaled red hands yanked him into a room, giggling as the door slammed shut.
Shift.
The Huntress frowning as she shot her shining black bow, the string like a strand of spider silk coated with dew. Draw. Release. Draw. Release.
Shift.
Raego shouting into a phone.
Shift.
Tory shouting into a phone.
Shift.
Achilles laughing as he hoisted glasses with Leonidas at his bar.
Shift.
Pandora wandering the Armory with a wistful smile on her face as she hummed to herself. She stared at an empty stand that looked designed for a weapon, but now lay empty.
Shift.
Grimm chasing rainbow reflections on the ground, the treehouse in the distance. Pegasus lay sleeping nearby.
Shift.
Paradise and Lost lurking in a dark alley, stalking something unseen, eyes glinting in the moonlight.
With a gasp, my eyes shot open to see Talon staring down at me. I grabbed him by his scaled armor chest, panting. His eyes widened, and he pulled me to my feet. I scanned our surroundings anxiously, remembering the black trees. The blood rain. I was in Hell. Carl watched me, head cocked.
I spun to see Virgil patiently waiting, watching us. No one spoke.
“It has been an hour,” Talon said. I turned to him, regaining control. Dreams. I had been dreaming. Or remembering the last few days I had spent on earth. Or random memories from my past. As I tried to organize the flashes of memory, I nodded to myself. Yes, that was it. I was just having flashbacks. Like… my life flashing before my eyes before I died.
I glanced down at my palm with a sickening feeling in my stomach. It had been a warning. That I was slowly dying. My life had just flashed before my eyes like everyone said happened the moment before death. I recalled Virgil’s warning about growing weaker faster and not being aware of it. He was more right than he knew. We were dying.
“We need to hurry,” I said in a gruff voice. Virgil simply turned, continuing on down the path. Sensing my companions’ trepidation, I shook my head and gave them a look that demanded silence. I didn’t want to tell them why my face was etched with concern. We needed to hurry.
After a time – which I was having a hard time defining – we were out of the woods. I barely had a moment to enjoy it before the world suddenly changed between one corner and the next. A dull roar echoed in the sudden white tunnel before us. The roar of a crowd. I glanced back behind me to check the woods and stumbled to a stop. A white wall of polished glass stood a foot behind me. Not the path we had just taken. There was no path. Just the wall.
I rounded on Virgil, fingers clenching. “What is the meaning of this? A trap?” I demanded.
He turned to look at me. He slowly lifted a necklace from beneath his robe. A black circle on a black chain. “My key between… districts. You don’t expect us to leave the doors open, do you? No, that wouldn’t do at all.” He dropped the necklace back into the robes and continued walking. “We’ll be out of this spot soon. Hopefully before anyone notices you…” he added the last in a drier tone than usual. I didn’t see anyone in the tunnel, but the roars continued in the distance.
Not wanting to be left behind, I hurried after him. We soon rounded a bend, the roars growing louder, and then the area opened up entirely, no longer a tunnel, but an open path overlooking a vast cavern. A lip of stone to our left, about waist-height, lined our path on one side with a wall of white stone stretching to the high ceiling on our right. Beyond the lip, the ground dropped about ten feet into what looked like an ice-skating rink. Not that it was, but the blazing white stone – like salt flats at noon – made me instantly think of one.
Except… it was an arena. The roars pounded at my skull. The arena was full of fighting monsters. All types. Pools of blood from wounded warriors painted the floor in vibrant splotches, and more blood spatter marked many of the walls. I saw one dwarf-looking guy slice an elf in half – completely. Blood sprayed the wall and the dwarf howled triumphantly before running after a new foe – a thousand-pound boar with five eyes, antlers, and fiery hooves.
After a few seconds, the two halves of the elf slowly crawled back together, flashing with light as they fit back into place like a jigsaw puzzle. He wearily climbed to his feet, gripped his weapon, and sought out a new opponent. He was snarling murderously, ignoring the blood beneath his feet. Or maybe not aware that he had been two pieces only a moment ago.
I saw a hydra battling a handful of chimeras. A frost giant hammering a fire giant. Two robed bald figures staring at each other with snarls on their faces, their eyes glowing green. They didn’t move as battle raged around them, and judging by the looks they received, none of the monsters wanted to get too close to them. I spotted Candy Skulls hovering at various empty points around the arena, oddly devoid of any monsters, as if they hadn’t desired to get close to the Calaveras.
I realized something for the first time. Not all the Candy Skulls were humanoid. The ones I had seen so far had been, but apparently that wasn’t the case down here. A great four-legged creature, resembling a wooly mammoth complete with tusks wore a Candy Skull bone mask that fit his obviously much-larger head.
A four-armed winged creature sported a Candy Skull mask that looked like a bat skull.
A great serpent, easily fifty feet long slithered around the arena absently, purple crackling tongue flicking out through a Candy Skull mask with purple flowers dominating the design.
I shivered, counting them, and gave up at a dozen.
The arena was easily as large as a football field, and almost every foot of it was full of monsters. One massive free-for-all.
One figure in particular caught my eyes and I felt myself freeze.
His golden scales glowed in the reflected light from the white floor. Blood coated his face as his massive, horned head swept past me. Then he froze, slowly turning to stare at me in utter disbelief. His eyes flashed with fire, and then great golden wings flared out behind him and he roared.
“You’ve got to be shitting me…” I muttered as I heard Virgil actually curse.
Talon gripped my arm. “Who is that?”
“Alaric Slate. Raego’s dad. I, uh, sent him here, I guess.”
Talon yowled, his white spear whipping into existence. Carl let out a hungry chuckle.
The rest of the fighters had stilled, somehow differentiating that roar from the multitude of others filling the arena. Silence slowly ensued as every monster turned to stare at us.
Alaric pointed a golden claw, and every monster surged forward in a wave.
And the Candy Skull Wardens did absolutely nothing to stop the prison riot.
Chapter 39
As hundreds of monsters screamed, clawed, and scrabbled towards us, I readied myself for a fight even though it was pointless. I’d watched them die and come back repeatedly in their melee. “Virgil! What the actual fuck! Get us out of here!” I snapped, not daring to turn away from the oncoming horde.
“I didn’t realize that one was in here today,” he replied. “If the Calaveras don’t stop them, I fear I am not allowed to assist.”
I cursed, opening myself to my Fae magi
c, not knowing what else I could realistically do against so many. I clapped my hands and a section of white floor thirty paces wide and ten feet deep rattled weakly, but didn’t shatter. I pushed harder, frowning as my magic struggled against… something unseen. Probably because this was Hell, not the regular old Fae elements it was used to manipulating. I pressed harder, seeing stars in my eyes, and the ground suddenly collapsed beneath them, sending fifty monsters plunging to their… well, out of the way, since death didn’t really seem to be an inconvenience down here. Maybe they would fall forever.
Those behind the falling monsters didn’t even hesitate, most leaping over the new hole in their arena with sheer glee in their eyes – the chance to actually kill someone after an eternity of fighting and killing foes that rose back up after a few moments.
Carl cleared his throat and I felt his hand slap against my chest, gently shoving me back.
Talon helped him, jumping in front of me and using his other hand to push me back further until I was standing beside Virgil, panting. I was fucking exhausted. Breaking that floor had been… so hard. Impossibly hard.
So what the hell was Carl doing?
I gripped Virgil by the robes, snarling into his face from inches away. “Get. Us. Out!”
Not a flicker of concern crossed his face. What could I do to him? He was already dead. Other than the slight inconvenience of dying and having to put himself back together after, he didn’t have anything to worry about. Let the bully monsters slap him around a bit, eviscerate him, steal his lunch money, whatever. He would soon stand back up, brush off his robes, and continue on with his daily work.
But we weren’t dead. We couldn’t just walk away from this.
“You’ll want to see an Elder at work. It’s a rare sight…” Virgil said, glancing past me. I spun, frowning. I had seen Carl fight before. It was amazing, but not enough to stop the tide rolling towards him.
Carl gripped two swords in his hands, held high and out as if… No. What was he doing?
Then he began to sing. That Sound of Music song again. As he did, he flicked his swords back and forth like a conductor would direct an orchestra. His voice had never been designed for singing, not even close, but he gave it his full effort.
And as he flicked his swords back and forth, directing his nonexistent band of musical instruments…
Bodies exploded in clouds of frozen gore.
Then charred ash.
Then smoke.
Then motes of dust.
In fact, each tone of his voice seemed to hold a different finishing move. High pitches were shattered ice. Low pitches were dust – nothingness. Long, drawn out notes were explosive, gory detonations.
The army of monsters died screaming, one by one, several at a time, or entire sections where he pointed his ivory swords. Talon’s eyes were wide and his jaws hung open, his spear the only thing seeming to keep him on his feet.
Carl glanced back at me over his shoulder, smiling delightedly. He even flung a hand my way and I jolted in horror as if he was attacking me. Then I realized he intended for me to sing with him. Not knowing what else to do, I joined in with a stunted, rasping voice. And felt something latch onto my mind like a rope, drawing something from me to wrap around those ivory swords like ribbons of white silk.
He drew those cords from me, twirled them around his swords, and then flung them out.
Alaric Slate, airborne and only a dozen feet away exploded in a shower of golden dust.
My eyes watered as I sang louder, stunned, but realizing that I was… smiling. This felt…
Good. It wasn’t that he was taking anything from me, but rather like he was showing me how to efficiently use my power in this place. As if he was driving the car that was Nate.
Gateways of white fire appeared in the center of the arena, right where the rear faction of the monsters were now trying to run away from the musical onslaught of Elder Carl. They ran straight through the Gateway and only bones erupted from the other side, still smoking.
Talon joined in the chorus, and I saw red ribbons rip out of his chest, almost ethereal. They twined around Carl’s other sword before he flung them out. Where he pointed his sword, the monsters collapsed into thinly sliced strips of steaming flesh – as if struck by a thousand swords simultaneously.
Only a minute had passed before it became obvious that all the monsters were fleeing from us.
Carl stopped singing, and then gave the arena a formal bow before sheathing his swords.
The Calaveras stared at us. The monsters were huddled against the back wall of the arena, as far from us as they could get. I stared at the dead bodies, what remained of them. They were going to get back up any second. None of this really mattered. I spun to Virgil. “I think we should leave now…” I whispered, hands shaking.
He nodded, and calmly turned to resume his walk away from the pits.
I kept an eye on the arena as I backed away. Some of the bodies began piecing themselves back together, but for others it would be a longer process.
Carl smiled at me. “You did well, Temple. With practice, you could do much more. Do you have something to eat in your purse?” I found myself reaching into the satchel blindly, not even correcting him. I pulled out a bag of jerky and handed it over. He tore it open, tossed the trash on the ground and walked past me, chomping on a long strip of jerky as he hummed to himself. He didn’t look back at the arena. Talon shot me a very deep look.
“This is not the end, Temple!” a very distant, but familiar voice snarled. Alaric.
I just turned away, trying to remember how to use my legs as I followed Carl and Virgil. With the amount of magic Carl had… helped me use, I should have been unconscious. But I wasn’t. Stunned, but not drained. As if him using it through me had prevented me from dipping into my well of power. Or was it just because we were in Hell and my body couldn’t sense how close it was to exhaustion? To giving up. To dying. Because I was already dying.
“How do you feel, Wylde?” Talon asked in a hesitant purr.
“Hungry,” I said, surprising myself.
He frowned at me. “I meant… emotionally.”
I blinked at him. “Don’t tell me hungry isn’t an emotion, because I feel that shit in my soul.”
Chapter 40
To prove the point, I reached into my satchel and pulled out two more bags of jerky. I opened one and handed it to Talon. He took it with a sigh, numbly popping a piece into his mouth as he stared at Carl who was actually skipping behind Virgil.
We left the white district without further fanfare. I glanced back to see a wall separating us and let out a sigh of relief. We walked down another set of descending bridges and sloped ramps that crossed back and forth impossibly, but these were made of diamond or clear crystal of some kind. Talon’s tail twitched at every flicker of shifting light, but he managed to restrain himself.
We didn’t speak. I was too lost in my thoughts, Talon was too frightened of Carl or possibly feeling inadequate as my Shadow – my protector. Carl was too busy sightseeing, frolicking, or singing.
Virgil was Virgil, the awkwardly silent taxi driver.
After what felt like a few more hours, we reached a yawning lake that stretched as far as the eye could see. A lake of blood. Boats drifted here and there full of clouded masses that resembled huddles of souls. I studied them, wondering if Charon was present, or if these were maybe trainees for his replacement when he was too hungover to come to work. Which was probably often.
No boat was at the shore before us, but Virgil waited patiently, not informing us of anything. I went back to studying the lake. Two waterfalls, each a thousand feet high could be seen in the distance – raging, white capped rivers of blood crashing down into the lake. Detritus fell down those waterfalls, too, looking suspiciously like drowning humanoid figures, but it was too far away to be certain.
A low gong echoed through the cavern, and Virgil walked out onto the roiling water. “Don’t fall in,” was all he said, not even
glancing back at us. I blinked, turning to Talon and Carl. As they looked at me, I almost took a step back. Their faces were… slightly blurred. Like a charcoal sketch that had been smudged with a thumb. I could still make out their features, but only with effort. Their bodies were the same. Smudged.
They looked just as concerned upon seeing me, telling me all I needed to know.
I set my shoulders and strode after Virgil. “Let’s hurry. There’s nothing to be done about it.”
I heard them murmur their agreement as I stepped into the water.
But my foot didn’t break the surface. I glanced up to see Virgil calmly walking across the constantly roiling lake of blood, also not breaking the surface. He didn’t stumble, even when the water dipped and rose beneath him. Almost like he was hovering over it, but he wasn’t. He was walking on top of the blood in his sandals without faltering once.
I took another step and wobbled as the surface shifted up and then down beneath me. Like a fucking Ninja Warrior obstacle course. Not wanting to get too far behind, and knowing that Virgil wasn’t the kind of guy to wait, I pressed on, hands out for balance as I struggled after our guide. Talon and Carl seemed to be faring much better behind me, but then again, reptiles were used to all sorts of awkward perambulation, and cats had an uncanny ability to always maneuver easily and land on their feet.
Fumbling, bumbling wizards, though? Not so much. I gritted my teeth and hurried as best I could. Just because my feet didn’t break the surface didn’t mean my body wouldn’t if I fell. Remembering what Virgil had said, I crouched down and brushed my hand against the lake of blood. My hand dipped below the surface like any other body of liquid and came out bloody.
I shivered, quickly wiping my hands on my pants as I straightened. My companions grumbled at the revelation – that any misstep could send us into the lake, and that the results probably wouldn’t be favorable. We had to keep our feet.
I had a few near falls, but Talon and Carl kept an eye on me, steadying me often.
Nine Souls: A Nate Temple Supernatural Thriller Book 9 (The Temple Chronicles) Page 21