Nine Souls: A Nate Temple Supernatural Thriller Book 9 (The Temple Chronicles)

by Shayne Silvers

  I was suddenly standing in a small cavern – relative to the rest of Hell anyway. It was actually quite large, but closed off. It was a cell, not just a random cave. But at least it wasn’t pitch black or anything. Ambient light illuminated most of the cell, only leaving pockets of shadow in the corners. I didn’t question it. If invisible light wanted a certain section to remain dark, so be it.

  I spun in a slow circle, shoulders itching from Anubis’ parting comment. I snarled as something shifted in a shadowed corner. Apparently, Anubis’ definition of taking me to my rooms was dumping me into a fight pit.

  Because I wasn’t alone.

  Find the biggest, scariest bastard in the yard, and pummel him like a lunatic. That was the way to survive your first day of prison. Or at least your best chance. To make an example of the worst of the lot. Or at least someone with a lot of clout.

  A hungry, familiar chuckle rumbled across the room and I readied myself for a rematch with one of my oldest friends.

  Chapter 47

  A hulking, winged monster stepped out of the shadows, puffs of steam clouding before him as his golden snout came into view.

  Alaric Slate.

  This was Anubis’ definition of repayment? The old Dragon King stared at me with so much hatred, I should have just dropped dead.

  “Temple…” he growled. “Oh, I’ve wanted to talk to you for quite some time.”

  “Funny. I had forgotten all about you, Al.”

  He snorted angrily at the nickname. I somehow managed to not feel guilty about it. “How is my son? That conniving black stain on my family tree?”

  I tapped my lip, thinking. “Oh, Raego? He’s doing wonderful. The dragons worship him, talking about how much better things are with Weird Al gone. Did you know he gave me a medal for taking you out? I would show you, but I must have left it on my trophy case back home. Oh, and I redecorated my throw pillows with some really flashy golden scales.” I eyed him, frowning. “Kind of just like those,” I said, pointing at him.

  His eyes crackled with fire, but then he began to laugh. “Humor. I had forgotten about that. You just don’t understand, do you? You can’t die here. We get to fight each other for eternity… And… you without magic… Oh, this isn’t Hell. This is HEAVEN!” he roared.

  I blinked, frowning. What? No magic? I reached for my power and… felt nothing. Not even a whisper of it. I concealed my panic as I tried to tap into my Fae powers.

  Nothing.

  Alaric continued to laugh, each outburst like a punch to my soul.

  What the hell kind of repayment was this? I swore to myself, right there, that I would kill Anubis if I ever got the chance. I would spend eternity making his life miserable. Somehow. Anything I could do to make him regret this. After all that talk, almost sounding like he regretted my plight. My failure. The bastard had conned me, and was likely laughing his ass off right now.

  I needed to stall. I still had my satchel. Maybe something inside could help me. Not forever, but enough to give me time to think. Even the best blade wouldn’t last for an eternity of heavy, daily use against a powerful golden dragon.

  “Were you close with Gertrude?” I asked, stalling.

  Alaric snorted, caught off guard. “That viperous bitch would betray anyone for power. It’s why I banished her.” I frowned, not being aware of that. “But then if I had remembered how much she hated your family, I might have sent her to St. Louis ahead of me to take you out. Or die trying,” he muttered, not sounding as if he cared one way or another.

  “Why would she hate me?” I asked, actually interested in the answer. I hadn’t met her until after I killed Alaric, so how could she have hated me before that?

  Alaric prowled in a slow circle around me, licking his lips. “Your parents. They stole from her. A blade of some kind. But it was the principle of the matter. She didn’t like anyone making her look the fool.”

  Not that it did me any good now, but I cursed my fiendish, thieving parents.

  “How about we don’t fight?” I said, keeping my eyes on him as he continued to circle me. “Might be roommates for a while. Would suck for you to walk around like a cripple forever. Literally forever. We could draw a line down the middle of the cave or something,” I said, quickly checking my surroundings. Only rock walls surrounded us, obviously, but something about the space directly behind him seemed different. A slightly different color to the wall.

  Alaric noted my attention. “I wouldn’t get too close to that door. If you get close enough you can somewhat hear the poor bastard on the other side. Then again, you won’t have any time for exploring, what with the never-ending death you’ll be experiencing.”

  “What does it feel like? To die and keep coming back? Is it like when you lizards lose a tail?”

  He licked his long teeth in a relishing gesture. “You’ll see soon enough. Not a pleasant experience, but you’ll get used to it. Kind of.” He let out a low laugh, crouching low in readiness to pounce. “This is the first joy I’ve experienced since you put me here. I’m going to savor it.”

  He launched himself at my face. I had already shoved my hand into my satchel, thinking desperately for anything that could help me. Something strong enough to keep this fucker away long enough for me to find a way out of this shithole. Because as impossible as it seemed, my only other option was to deal with this motherfucker for eternity.

  I’d rather opt for the hopeless escape plan.

  My hand latched around an unfamiliar haft of wood and I yanked it out.

  A black spear appeared from those bottomless depths, throbbing faintly under my palms. I didn’t have time to question it, but I knew for a fact I hadn’t put it in there. The last I had seen it had been in the Armory. Sneaky, sneaky Pandora. I spun the spear as I lunged out of his swipe, the spear feather-light in my hands as it scored across his shoulder. He hissed in outrage, and the red gem on the stone throbbed as if eager for more blood.

  Or as if drinking his injury.

  We both frowned at that.

  Then it winked out.

  He laughed, and backhanded me into the wall behind me. I slammed into the stone, seeing stars. He didn’t wait for me to recover, slicing across my stomach with his claws. I groaned in agony, falling to my knees. I stared down at my open stomach, the death blow.

  I could see – quite too clearly for my taste – my insides.

  And how torn and shredded they suddenly were. I gasped as I bled out, watching in shock as Alaric calmly walked back up to that wall and sat on his haunches, smiling at me. Waiting for me to die and come back. I struggled to hold onto my spear, using it was the only thing keeping me from falling over. I stared up at the black blade, too disgusted to continue looking at my wound.

  It was the spear I had seen in the Armory. The intricate one with the red gem in the center of the wide, almost axe-like blade. It kind of looked similar to Talon’s white spear. Except he didn’t have a giant gem in his. Mine was cooler.

  Not that it mattered now. My strength drained out of me as I slowly died. I fumbled with my satchel awkwardly, remembering that I had something I was going to grab before that golden taxi across the street hit me. And why was it parked facing me?

  What was that rushing noise?

  A traffic light above me flashed red and then fell, slamming into my stomach.

  Of all the damned luck. St. Louis drivers were the worst!

  Chapter 48

  I hissed as the traffic light struck me, gasping as it scalded my stomach.

  “No!” someone roared from not far away. Little late for a Good Samaritan to help me. A fucking taxi had just blind-sided me and then I was hit by the traffic light he had obviously ignored.

  My head cleared in an instant. No. Not a taxi. Alaric Slate, a golden dragon. Raego’s dad.

  Not a traffic light… I looked up at the spear in my fist. The ruby held no light. I glanced down at my stomach, grimacing in pain, but transfixed as I watched the flesh knit back together. Not perfectly, but
closing the wound. Healing it.

  I glanced back at the spear with a frown.

  It had… healed me? Whatever it had done, I could sense that it was entirely out of batteries now, unlike the faint thrum of power I had felt when first touching it.

  I met Alaric’s enraged eyes. “I’m not dead yet. Tis merely a flesh wound!”

  He snarled back, flame dribbling from his lips. “Bet it doesn’t work twice!” He lunged.

  Still on my knees, I dropped the spear flat to the ground, dipping under his outstretched claws and bringing it up directly beneath his jaw. He grunted and gurgled as his weight wedged the spear into a small crevice in the rock floor. I slowly shambled to my feet. The blade had pierced clean through his lower jaw, his tongue, and his upper snout so that the ruby glittered between his dazed eyes.

  Not wanting to waste a moment, I reached into my satchel, my hand clasping around a familiar hilt. The golden light around my chest winked out, and sucked into the War Hammer as I pulled it out. I willed every drop of godly power that still flowed in my veins from killing Athena, all that golden ichor, until I was sure not a whisper of it remained in my body or soul. Maybe it would be enough if I could combine the two.

  Enough for Goldschlager here, anyway.

  Obliteration is the only exit from this place, and only a god can do that… Anubis had said. The power of a God. True death wasn’t possible here. Just never-ending torment. Despair.

  The War Hammer fairly crackled with golden light, fingers of lightning dancing across its stone surface. Alaric’s eyes danced in both pain and fear.

  “Fuck obliterate. Taste Dominate!” And I hurled it at his face from two feet away with every ounce of power my muscles could muster as I screamed.

  The hammer crushed his face entirely like a boulder thrown at a wet sheet. I watched, caught off guard as his entire physical being rippled, jerked backwards as the Hammer sailed through him. My spear toppled to the floor unbroken as Alaric Slate simply melted, sucked into the Hammer as it flew to the opposite side of the cell…

  And slammed into the wall he had warned me about. The one with the crazy guy on the other side. The Hammer flashed even brighter as it struck the wall, sending golden bolts of lightning like a spider’s web across the surface, cracking the stone. Then the hammer fell to the ground, lifeless.

  And the wall crumbled to dust, glittering faintly as the cloud rolled into the prison.

  I heard a rasping, throaty laughter from the dark depths beyond and shivered, reaching for my spear in desperation. What the hell had I just done? And what had happened to Alaric? And who the fuck was laughing? But no light came from that dark hole. He must have lost his light privileges at some point. Probably because of his creepy laugh.

  A dark blur, like one of those sooty smudges drifted out of the cell, hovering over the hammer as if studying it. “Empty, now…” it rasped in a sound like a stone sarcophagus sliding open.

  I stared in horror, wondering what the hell it was, and if my new roomie was nicer than the last one. Despite the obvious wards on my cell, this… thing dripped with raw power. Wild, erratic power, as if it couldn’t quite be contained in the shade. That – without a body – it was now just a sentient storm cloud constantly stabbing lightning at anything that came too close.

  It was more power than I had ever seen in one space, and I had the impression that it had been a human – once – because the shape was vaguely humanoid.

  It seemed to turn its attention to me and I scooted back against the wall, gripping my spear before me defensively. “You’re welcome, man,” I said quickly, taking credit for his freedom.

  The form shifted back and forth thoughtfully. Then that chilling voice echoed like dry leaves in the cell. “Thank you, boy. You just won’t do…” it added, sounding disappointed. “You’re almost empty as well. I’ll just have to settle for the Nine Souls… Yes, they will suffice.”

  Then it simply drifted past me, right through the rock wall. I spun, pounding on the stone. “Hey! Tit for tat! Let me out of here! We’re roomies!” I shouted.

  But the form was gone.

  The Nine Souls, it had said. Virgil had mentioned something like that, hadn’t he? And how had it simply shifted through the walls? Hell was designed to contain shades, so how had that bastard broken out? The other wall had contained him just fine.

  I glanced into that darkness and shivered. Whatever had been keeping him in there was stronger than the cell holding me now, and this cell had already muted my magic. Or taken it entirely. But… that smoke dude obviously had his power still. Why?

  I studied the War Hammer thoughtfully, not daring to walk over and pick it up. Not yet. I didn’t want to go anywhere near that hole. What if it sucked me inside, hungry for a new occupant?

  I had filled the Hammer with the last of my Godly power – although not enough to interest Anubis – and obliterated Alaric, relieving me of the headache of constant death while I tried to find my way out of this place.

  But that plan had backfired. I had freed something obviously quite dangerous. And now it was just a stone Hammer. Had I broken it? Whatever it really was? My parents had made it pretty obvious that it was important, but that shade hadn’t seemed to care for it, and I had a feeling he would have picked it up for his own if it had been powerful.

  So… my birthright – as it said on the stone hammer – was now just a lump of useless rock.

  Or was it just sapped from spending time in Hell? Like…

  I glanced up at the spear in my hands. Pandora had obviously snuck it inside my pack, and it had somehow healed me from death. Not that I was sure it had needed to waste its energy on that. I was in Hell. I couldn’t really die here. But it had healed me, that stone flashing red. Holding it now, there was no thrum of power, almost as if I had imagined it. I tugged off the silk bags hanging from the base of the blade and gasped. Two feathers – identical to Grimm’s – hung freely. Black, with dripping red orbs on the tips.

  This was it. I just knew it. Pandora had saved me. I called out to Grimm, ready for the quickest prison break in Hell’s recorded history, imagining the stories I would be able to tell.

  A whole lot of nothing happened. I frowned at the spear, shaking it. The feathers swayed back and forth at the motion, doing nothing remotely magical. I glared at the weapon, muttering Grimm’s name a few more times. Still, nothing. The blade itself even looked like the feather, now that I thought about it. Fat lot of good that did me.

  Just a spear.

  And across the cell, just a hammer.

  I waited for some kind of alarm to go off and Candy Skulls or Anubis to come storming in, demanding to know what I had done. But no one did. Maybe they didn’t even know anything had happened. I had made a lot of noise, but this was Hell. Kind of a noisy place, what with all the inconsiderate victims screaming and whining as they were mutilated for eternity.

  Maybe the noise had gone unnoticed. Must be Tuesday again. Damn Larry and his weekly flaying. All that screaming is enough to keep a guy up at night. I’m going to complain to the wardens. This time I promise. I’ve had enough. He’s gone too far.

  I realized I was having an entirely fictional sitcom in my head and stopped with a sigh.

  After an hour of waiting in silence, watching the Hammer, the opening into the adjacent cell, and my spear, I finally gave up. I spent a considerable amount of time with my eyes closed, letting the pain of the map to Hell sear through me, relishing the sensation. It was better than fear, and I couldn’t do anything until I got used to it, became numb to it.

  I needed to know the place, map my way out. It truly was a labyrinth.

  I remembered the arch from the beginning of our trip so long ago.

  Abandon hope, all ye who enter here. Then I began to laugh. Wow. If that hadn’t been a warning… My friends had been forced to abandon me, the Horseman of Hope.

  Talk about irony.

  I saw the districts Virg— Dante had mentioned. The different realms. I s
aw the Field of Reeds. Elysium. The Christian Hell. Nirvana. Tartarus. Even what looked suspiciously like Heaven with a towering set of Pearly Gates. I saw Purgatory.

  Although it initially didn’t make sense to me – seeing all the conflicting religions’ versions of the afterlife all in the same… city – it slowly began to make vague sense to me. Like the five boroughs of New York. Rough areas. Pleasant ones. Each soul categorized and filed away into their respective retirement home.

  I didn’t receive any insight on exactly how that filing system worked – for example, a Christian going to either Hell or Heaven – but I saw the distinct, convoluted path to physically get to either destination. Which meant I wouldn’t be able to publish my book What really happens when you die – a memoir. I realized I was humming Carl’s song from the Sound of Music and cut off abruptly.

  “Too soon to get stir crazy,” I said aloud to the empty room.

  But I would have given anything to hear him ask about the D again. Anything.

  “This place sucks. Maybe I shouldn’t have killed Alaric…” my words echoed back to me, somewhat distorted from that open cell shrouded in darkness. I stared at it curiously, wanting to know what was inside. Then I shuddered. Maybe later. Curiosity killed the… I sighed.

  Talon. I hoped he would have a long life without me.

  I hadn’t gotten any real sleep in a long time, and I felt drowsy. I checked to make sure that I wasn’t actually bleeding to death again, verified I was as healthy as possible, and closed my eyes for some shut eye. Thankfully, none of my neighbors made any noise.

  Chapter 49

  I was retracing my steps through Hell. Whether more of those odd flashbacks or a result of studying the new map in my mind, I wasn’t sure. It almost felt like I was seeing it from one of those drones that adrenaline-junkies use to follow them on their mountain bike rides or surfing videos. Watching my steps through Hell from a slightly higher perspective.