“I will furnish you with a soul crystal. It will act as a sort of temporary phylactery. Not as powerful as a celestial one, but strong enough to contain Croatoan long enough for you to bring him back here.”
“And how am I supposed to do this? You’ve cut me off from all my powers.”
“A portion of your innate talents will be restored to you. That should be sufficient.”
“And my followers?”
“You have no followers, Vincent Corinthos. You have been severed. You will be granted a portion your apertus energy and your temporal manipulation abilities, but no more. If you have failed to recover Croatoan in twenty-four hours, you will be brought back here and locked away in the Pit, and I will have to find other ways to deal with Croatoan.”
“Can I bring help?”
“You may take as many allies as you wish. And you may have this back.” He produced my switchblade from one of his desk drawers. “Orcus wanted to keep it, but given the circumstances, I didn’t think that fair.”
I waited for a moment, and when Hades didn’t say anything more, I said, “What, no demonic babysitter? I expected you’d send Scathiks or someone else along to make sure I stayed on task.”
Hades smiled. “You have been marked with the brands of the Pit. I can pull your soul back here whenever I wish. I can see through your eyes, hear through your ears, in short, Vincent Corinthos, you are mine.”
Wonderful. “All right. I accept your deal. But while I have met Croatoan, I don’t know him that well. Can you give me any insight into him? Tell me what drove him? Maybe I can use that.”
“The twenty-four hours are ticking, Vincent Corinthos,” Hades said. “But if this is how you choose to use them, so be it.” He rose. “I can tell you that Croatoan was not loved or admired here in the Pit. His personality was abrasive, even for a demon. The majority of others who knew him disliked him for his level of arrogance. He had no allies, other than the ones he raised from the dead. I am not much of a storyteller, but come, I believe I have something that may help you.” He gestured to the wall, and a metal door appeared. Hades pushed it open, and we stepped into a cool, dim room. The entire place was made of a faintly glowing metal, and was empty except for a table in the center of the room. Resting atop the table was a demonic corpse with a gaping stab wound in its chest.
“This is Croatoan,” Hades said. “Or rather, his body. When we separated his soul from his body, we kept the body here, in this chamber. The room is warded, so it’s impossible for a spirit to phase through the walls and repossess the corpse. From what I know of your talents, you can use the corpse to learn more.”
I focused my Glimpse. The brands on my chest didn’t impact my ability to look into the past, and I watched a bit of Croatoan’s history unfold before me.
Croatoan was a handsome fellow, by demonic standards. If it weren’t for the purple skin, he could’ve passed as a male model. He had strong features and sharp eyes. His body was buff, not weight-lifter buff, but he was clearly someone who was in shape and cared about his appearance. He stood tall, his profile striking, commanding armies of undead to cut down his foes. And as those foes died, he reanimated them, folding their corpses into his own armies. I watched as his force of hundreds became thousands, those thousands became tens of thousands strong in just a few hours. It looked like they were marching in the Pit, but who were they fighting?
My answer came a moment later. The building I was currently in came into view as the army marched around a bend. Croatoan bellowed, and his army of undead demons surged forward, rushing the prison. A counterforce led by Orcus appeared at the gates. The god of oaths was wearing a white suit with a black tie that should’ve made him look like the Good Humor man, but instead made him look regal. He directed a force of demons to attack, and the demons clashed against the undead. It was like watching the siege of Minas Tirith from The Return of the King, except with George Romero directing instead of Peter Jackson. The carnage was so brutal and intense that my brain started to reject it. Decapitations, dismemberments, eviscerations. The entire courtyard outside was covered in so much blood that undead and demon alike were actually slipping in it, splashing through it like kids running through puddles after a rainstorm.
Croatoan’s undead forces dropped demon after demon, and each one that fell rose anew and further swelled Croatoan’s ranks. If the overwhelming odds bothered Orcus, he didn’t show it. The white-suited god led from the front, calling out words of encouragement to his soldiers. Orcus’s example was an inspiring one, and he proved quite adept with a sword, as the god of oaths surged across the battlefield, slashing through undead as if they were tissue paper. Croatoan frowned at Orcus, then snapped his fingers. A bunch of the demon corpses on the ground began spasming and twitching, but instead of rising as undead demons, they crawled toward one another and began dismembering themselves, then seemed to stitch themselves into a new configuration using sinew as thread.
What the hell?
Less than a minute later, the dozen or so corpses had reformed themselves into two colossal undead monstrosities topped with skinless skulls whose eye sockets burned with green light. Orcus gracefully shot forward, delivering a blow that should have severed one of the abomination’s legs at the knee. Instead, the sword got trapped in the joint. No, I realized as I squinted, the creature had willingly allowed Orcus’s blow to connect, then healed around the sword, binding it in place. As Orcus tugged on the sword, the other abomination picked him up by the shoulders and absorbed him into its chest. Orcus struggled, flailed, and ultimately was swallowed by the creature’s flesh as if he were sinking into a pit of quicksand. The skin around the monstrosity’s ribcage parted a moment later, revealing Orcus scrunched up inside a tiny space, packed so tightly he couldn’t even move.
Croatoan’s laughter was a terrifying sound as he regarded Orcus. Then he turned, and the future sentient bowling ball grinned as his soldiers surged ahead of him, overwhelming Orcus’s defenders, and began pounding against the gates of the prison. I’m no expert on engineering or physics, but I don’t care how strong a door is. Put a bajillion angry undead against it, and sooner or later, it’s going to break.
And I’m sure it would have, but right at that moment, Hades joined the battle. The Lord of the Pit crashed down into the throng, the undead demons little more than paper dolls to him as he slashed them aside with a flaming sword. Croatoan sneered at him and commanded more undead forward, but Hades barely spared them a thought as his blade ripped through them. Croatoan blanched slightly, and began backing away, but Hades charged forward, forcing the conflict. Croatoan produced a short sword and a very large shield from thin air, and he spent the next few seconds cowering behind the shield as Hades rained blows down upon it, ultimately shattering its metal like glass.
Desperate now, Croatoan tried to duel Hades, his short sword morphing into a rapier. He managed to deflect the first few of Hades’s strikes, but it was obvious he was way out of his weight class. And it was here that I saw just how different Hades was from other Olympians. Put Zeus or Poseidon in a situation where they were fighting an inferior foe, and there would be taunts and little injuries more intended to wound the person’s pride rather than their body. Hades was all business. Once presented with the proper opening, he shot forward and drove his sword into Croatoan’s chest. The rebel demon’s legs buckled, and he fell to his knees, Hades’s sword sticking out from his breastbone. His forces collapsed to dust all around him, his magic broken.
I cut the Glimpse off. “Whoa. He tried to take over the Pit?”
Hades shrugged. “It happens from time to time. Someone believes they can run the place better than I can, and so we have a disagreement. Croatoan was different. As a lord of undeath, he marshaled a force more powerful than any other we had faced, and defeating him proved difficult. If you saw what I think you did, you know that the battle reached this very
building. That had never happened before, or since. I placed Croatoan’s soul in the celestial phylactery and kicked him from the Pit and into the ether. I didn’t know where he landed, and I didn’t care.” Hades glared at Croatoan’s corpse lying on the table before us, as if considering whether he should give it a kick, too.
“But you said that the celestial phylactery sealed him from his powers. I saw Croatoan raise wights and command undead.”
Hades sniffed. “Wights. Corinthos, do you know how insignificant wights are? It would be like if Poseidon lost control of the ocean, but could command the water in a drinking glass. That’s the difference in scale we’re talking about. While his soul has been freed, it will take some time for his powers to return to full strength. When it does, he will be able to create undead monstrosities the likes of which would shatter your fragile sanity.”
I could feel time ticking by. I needed to move. “All right. Do you have any leads on where he might go? What his first objective may be?”
“He is likely searching for a better vessel to inhabit,” Hades said. “He can’t remain in spirit form for long, else he’d be drawn back to the Pit. That means he’s in something now, probably created by human hands, and that won’t suit him. He will want a proper infernal form to reside in.”
“Something like that?” I asked, pointing at Croatoan’s corpse.
“Perhaps. Demonic corpses don’t rot, don’t decay or degrade, and retain some of the powers they possessed in life. If there is one of those remaining on Earth, it would be a likely target.”
“Do you know if there are any?”
Hades rolled his eyes at me. “Brimstone and shade, Corinthos, do you keep track of every human corpse on the planet?”
I ignored the rebuke. Ideas were already spinning in my head. “All right,” I said. “I’m ready to get started. Get these brands off of me, and I’ll bring Croatoan back.”
“I admire your drive, Corinthos,” Hades said, handing me an object about the size of a ballpoint pen. “This is the soul crystal I spoke of. Break whatever receptacle Croatoan is inhabiting and get this within a few feet of his spirit. The crystal will do the rest.” He held up a hand, as if remembering something. “Only you can trap Croatoan with this, Corinthos. It is keyed to you. If someone else holds it, the crystal will not absorb Croatoan’s soul. Is that clear?” As I nodded, Hades waved a hand over my chest, and most of the brands seemed to run off, as if they were made of sand. “Your talents have been restored, and I have allowed your portals to operate within this building.”
I ran a hand over the few angry red brands remaining on my chest. They still stung. “If I’ve got my powers back, why are these still here?”
“If I let you have full access to your powers, you might try to flee to an alternate universe, and I can’t have that. You can portal to here, and anywhere on Earth or Olympus, but that’s it. And even then, you will find your powers diminished, so use them with caution. When you have recaptured Croatoan, return here. I will formally free you from the Pit at that time.”
“Won’t word get around?”
“Scathiks is your handler and Nathan Singravel your guide. I can sequester them for a day and no one will think anything of it.”
“Right. I’ll be on my way, then.”
“Twenty-four hours, Corinthos,” he said, tapping his watch. “Don’t be late.”
Chapter 8
I portaled from Hell to my apartment. I found Petra in the kitchen, several empty pints of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream on the counter. Dressed in sweats and a Spider-Gwen T-shirt, she never failed to take my breath away. Her head whipped around at the sound of my portal, her puffy red eyes widening when she saw me. “Vincent!” She grabbed me up in a hug and squeezed. It hurt like hell, not only because Petra’s super strong and capable of crushing concrete in her bare hands, but also because all the brands were so fresh. “I was so worried. Gearstripper told me you’d been taken, and I thought I’d lost you forever.”
I gave her a one-armed hug back, and I could tell she felt that my embrace was off. She gently pushed me out to arm’s length, and her face darkened as she took in my mangled arm. “You tell me who did this to you,” she whispered, “and I will make them feel pain.”
“Hold that thought for a bit, love,” I said. I pulled her over to sit at the kitchen table and took a couple of minutes to catch her up on what had happened.
“Seriously?” she said, her eyes wide when I finished. “Mother spoke on your behalf?”
“I know,” I said. “I don’t think I’ll ever recover from that one, but I can’t think about it too much right now. I’ve got a chance to get out of Tartarus, but I don’t have much time. I need to gather up some friends, and then we need to go on a demon hunt.”
“You make it sound like fun,” she said. “Like we’ll be playing Diablo.”
“Like you wouldn’t believe,” I said with a smile.
“Who will you take with you? Besides me. And don’t give me any noble or chivalrous BS, Vincent Corinthos. I’m coming with you no matter what.”
I put my good arm around her again. “Wouldn’t have it any other way, hon. I’ve got a couple of people in mind, but I’m going to need your help for one of them. Have you had a chance to talk to Psyke?”
“Yes, she’s willing to help.”
“Great. We’ll need to pick her up first.” I tapped extradimensional energy to create a portal, and it felt like I was trying to haul a refrigerator up a flight of stairs. The portal formed slowly, and I ground my teeth as I pushed it Open. I let out a breath as we stepped through to my house on Olympus. I took a minute to catch my breath, and just shook my head when Petra looked at me with concerned eyes. Hades had said I’d be able to portal to Olympus, but he hadn’t said he was going to make it easy for me.
From my house, we went to Psyke and Eros’s manor. Psyke herself was sitting in a gazebo out front, dressed in a white silk toga. Reclining with a glass of something green in her hand, a book on her lap, and a pair of sunglasses perched atop her forehead, she could’ve been one of Petra’s supermodel coworkers. She smiled when she saw us approach.
“Why, Petra, love, I didn’t expect you back so soon,” she said, brushing her long brown hair over her shoulder.
Psyke is married to Eros, who’s the son of Aphrodite. So technically, that makes Psyke Petra’s sister-in-law. I don’t know her that well, but she’s a goddess of the soul, and I was banking that she’d be able to help out with a rather difficult situation. Namely, that the souls of Herb Wallenby, Cynthia the Electrical Woman, and a malevolent presence that inhabited a paranormal-killing weapon called the Rosario had become tangled up in a single body. I hoped that Psyke could unravel all three of them. “Hello, Psyke,” Petra said. “This is Vincent.” We hastily made our introductions. “We need you to do that process we were speaking of earlier, and we don’t have much time. Can you come now?”
“Of course, sugar, of course.” And just like that, I was portaling us back to the Undercity. Well, after a minute of exertion on my part to get the extradimensional energy to form properly. I had to come out about a block away from Woof’s, because the extradimensional wards had been fully erected. I got us inside and found Jake at the security desk. The big man’s eyes went huge as he took in my injuries, and he stood, his hands out as if asking what was going on and how he could help.
“Jake, this is Psyke. She’s a goddess and is with me. Please take her to Medical and show her Herb and Cynthia. I think she can help.” I didn’t even wait for his response before turning to Petra. “Go find Gears and tell him to suit up. I have one more stop I need to make.”
Another portal took me to Cather’s place, where I met up with Kleep and Jeal. The other kobolds gathered around me, and they broke into a drinking song prayer to celebrate. Lances of ice-cold fire ripped through my chest, dropping me
to the ground. “All right, everyone,” Cather said, clapping his hands. “I do believe that Vincent requires a moment to rest. All of you make yourselves useful and begin tidying the library. I noticed none of you cleaned up after yourselves after that last Pathfinder adventure you ran. Quickly, good lads and lasses, there you are.” As the kobolds left, Cather helped steady me. “Are you all right, old friend?”
“No,” I said. “Have Jeal come back here, will you?”
My Prime Liberator came back and knelt before me. “Jeal,” I said, “I need your help for a very dangerous mission. It’s going to be a lot worse than anything you’ve done before. Worse than the redcaps; worse than the upyr. I wouldn’t ask you to come along if I didn’t desperately need your help. Will you join me?”
She didn’t hesitate. “Of course, Lord Corinthos.”
“If it’s dangerous,” Cather said, “I will accompany you.”
“No,” I said, placing a hand on his chest. “Jeal, portal to the old Woof’s restaurant. You know the place?” She nodded and vanished a moment later. I turned to the dragon. “Cather, there is a very real chance that I won’t be coming back from this one. And while I’ll do everything I can to keep her safe, there’s a chance Jeal won’t either. If that’s the case, I need you and Kleep to take care of the other kobolds. Please, don’t argue with me. Just know that watching over them is the best way you can help me now.”
Cather’s green eyes shimmered, and he ran a hand through his coppery hair. I could see the argument in his face, could almost hear it. But thankfully, he gave his head a shake and said, “As you wish, Vincent. But I expect to see you again soon.”
“I’m going to do everything I can to make that happen,” I said, and portaled back to HQ. I collected Jeal and took her inside to meet up with Petra and Gears. The gremlin and the kobold looked at each other.
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