Torment_Caulborn 6

by Nicholas Olivo

  Getting injured here was strange; there wasn’t the normal pain you’d associate with getting stabbed or being punched in the nose. It was almost like letting the air out of a balloon; you just gradually got weaker. As the fight stretched on, I was dimly aware that Croatoan’s army was gone, and now, we were two punch-drunk fighters, circling each other. The Astral wouldn’t last much longer, and every time I tried to Open a portal beneath Croatoan, he teleported away. He was sensing the changes in the environment, I realized. He was still using the astral plane itself against me. This was a stalemate. If I didn’t get him here and now, before the Astral ran out, then we’d both be returned to our bodies, and I’d be out of time and get sucked back to the Pit.

  Could I do what he was doing? Could I manipulate the environment? I feigned exhaustion, which honestly wasn’t that hard, and collapsed to my knees. Croatoan was just ahead of me, and I concentrated on the spot just to his left, feeling what made up that space. What I sensed was sort of like a harmonic signature I’d once seen on one of Gearstripper’s displays. It had shown the frequency of a particular radio wave, and reminded me of the sine wave equations I’d had to solve back in geometry class. The space I was focusing on had its own sort of frequency, as well, and I started warping my extradimensional energy, forcing it to take on that same frequency. With luck, Croatoan wouldn’t notice what I was doing.

  “Out of steam already, Corinthos? Well, I must admit you have made my return a thrilling event. I’d forgotten what it felt like to have my heart racing, to feel the adrenaline, to relish in the thrill of having a body that could inflict pain. Your Astral is wearing off, isn’t it? We will return to the physical world soon. I think you’ve discovered that all we can here is tire each other out; you can’t actually be killed in the astral plane. So we wait. And when we’re back in physical form, I am going to rip your head clean off and drink your blood.” He tipped his head to one side. “No jokes, Corinthos? No snarky remarks? Nothing at all?”

  I dragged myself to my feet, the extradimensional weaving nearly finished. I staggered forward, Croatoan wearing a smug expression as I lurched toward him. “You know something?” I said, my voice sounding rough to my own ears. “You talk too much.” I pulled back to punch him, and Croatoan didn’t even bother to try to defend himself. He just stood there. His expression changed to surprise when I shifted and rammed my shoulder into his chest as I Opened a portal behind him. We collapsed through into Hades’s office in the Pit.

  “No!” Croatoan screamed when he recognized his surroundings. “NO!”

  Hades was seated at his desk, a bowl of soup before him, the spoon halfway to his mouth. The spoon clattered into the bowl with a splash, splattering tiny droplets of broth on the table. Hades rushed around the desk and seized the spectral form of Croatoan by the throat.

  “Well, well,” he said. “Croatoan, I can’t say I’m happy to see you again, but I am glad you’re back where you belong.” He snapped his fingers and a gong sounded. Moments later, a demonic guard appeared. “Bring me an empty celestial phylactery,” Hades said. “And get Orcus down here while you’re at it.”

  Croatoan thrashed in Hades’s grip. “You’re both in spirit form,” Hades said to me. “How’d you manage that?”

  “Long story,” I said.

  “Luckily, you’ll have time to tell it to me, once I’ve seen to Croatoan here. In the meantime, sit down and take a load off.” He snapped his fingers again, and I had substance once more. I was even wearing the clothes I’d been wearing when I’d first been brought to the Pit. Well, those clothes, minus the bloodstains and rips. I peeked down the neck of my new white T-shirt and saw nothing but unmarked skin beneath. No brands. I let out a sigh of relief and collapsed on a couch that was surprisingly plush, the kind of couch that you sank three or four inches into once you sat down. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if I could get out of the thing again. Croatoan was spluttering silently, and it took me a moment to realize Hades had done something to mute him. Hades, still holding the thrashing Croatoan out at arm’s length, walked back to his desk and had another few spoonfuls of soup.

  “Are you hungry, Corinthos? I can have something brought to you.” Mistrust must’ve shown on my face because he smiled and said, “Oh, don’t look at me like that. I have some of the best cooks in all of the universe working for me. It’s how I torment the gluttons in Circle Three. They can see and smell all this wonderful food, but they can’t ever taste it. Come, let me get you something.”

  “I’ll take a bacon double cheeseburger, fries, and a Pepsi.”

  “Consider it done.”

  The demon guard came back into the room a few moments later, accompanied by Orcus and Scathiks. The little demon was carrying a silver tray with a cover, which he placed on the coffee table before me. With a little flourish, he removed the cover, revealing the best-looking double cheeseburger I’d ever seen. He scampered up onto the couch, tucked a checkered napkin under my chin, and then hopped down, popped open the bottle of Pepsi, and poured it into a tall glass filled with ice. He stepped back and gave a bow.

  I took a huge bite of the burger and sighed. The meat was juicy, the bacon crispy, the cheese perfectly melted. In short, this burger was divine. “Not many people get to enjoy the meals we serve here,” Scathiks said.

  “Scathiks,” Hades said as the demon guard placed a shiny silver sphere the size of a bowling ball on the desk. “Don’t disturb Corinthos while he’s eating. He’s earned that much.” I washed down the bite of burger with a swallow of Pepsi and focused my attention back to the room’s other occupants. Orcus had picked up the perfectly smooth, silver sphere and looked at Hades. Croatoan’s thrashing became wilder, more desperate as he tried to escape Hades’s grasp. The sight of the fresh celestial phylactery had sent him into a panic.

  “I’ll begin with the standard bindings,” Orcus said, and began scratching its surface with a quill, leaving golden characters in Infernal behind.

  “When you finish that, etch full-imprisonment bindings this time, Orcus,” Hades said, and the god of oaths nodded as he scratched more lines in place. “You won’t have access to any of your powers, Croatoan. No minor control, no underlings, no incentives to remind you of what you once were, and how you could get your powers back if you atoned. No, this time, you’re in solitary for all intents and purposes. You will be locked in the center of Circle Nine, watched over by your fellow betrayers.”

  “It is ready, sir,” Orcus said. And without further comment or ceremony, Hades stuffed Croatoan’s spirit into the sphere. I had one last look at the hatred and rage on Croatoan’s face before he vanished completely into the silvery artifact and became a bowling ball once more.

  Then I finished my burger.

  Chapter 17

  A few hours later, I stood in the same arena where I’d been so brutally humiliated by Gualtano. “Is this really necessary?” I asked.

  “Kid, you’re about to do what was considered unthinkable. You’re getting out of the Pit. A failed, fallen god. Rumors are gonna fly about that unless it’s conducted in a very public manner.” Orcus polished his glasses on a handkerchief before perching them atop his nose. “Lord Hades is gonna make a speech and everything. You should be honored to receive this level of attention.”

  The arena was packed with even more demons than I’d seen during my “welcoming” ceremony. It felt just as “first game of the season-y” now as it had then, which was barely yesterday. Funny how time warped here. Orcus stepped up to a microphone. “Ladies, gentlemen, demons one and all,” Orcus greeted the crowd. “It is a special privilege we have today. Allow me to introduce Lord Hades.”

  There was raucous applause at this; apparently, Hades didn’t walk among the commoners of the Pit very often. The Lord of the Underworld strode forward, Persephone on his arm, both of them resplendent in fiery red robes trimmed with gold. Hades guided Persephone
to her throne, then stepped up to the microphone as Orcus bowed and scraped away.

  “Peoples of the Pit,” he said. “Yesterday, Vincent Corinthos came to us, a broken and failed god.” There were some cheers at that. Jesus, what a bunch of assholes. “Today, I am releasing him from the Pit.” Stunned silence. It was as if Hades had just pressed a mute button on the crowd. All eyes were locked on him, and the mood changed from jubilant to simmering anger. Thousands of demons, all suddenly extremely jealous and pissed off at me. I involuntarily shrank back a bit.

  “You may wonder how Vincent Corinthos managed such a feat. It is quite simple. He did two things for me. First, he captured the escaped demon Croatoan and returned him to his rightful prison in the Pit.” Some cheering at this; Croatoan wasn’t a popular guy. “And second, he has relinquished his deific powers. No longer will his followers’ faith fuel him. No longer will he be revered as a god. He will walk forth from the Pit as a mortal, as frail and powerless as those you tempt and torture daily.” Some additional murmurs here, they sounded approving. “And I would invite any other fallen gods who wish to leave the Pit to approach me, for I will make you the same offer. Complete a seemingly impossible task, give up your powers, and you can leave the Pit. Of course,” he added as an afterthought, “You will be mortal, and will die eventually, likely to return to the Pit.” A second period of stunned silence.

  Hades waited for a count of ten before continuing. “It seems none of you is willing to take me up on this offer. So be it. Know that it shall always stand, if you wish. And now, for Vincent Corinthos.”

  I stepped forward, and Hades half turned so he could speak to me and still address the microphone. Orcus handed him a scroll, which Hades unfurled and read to the crowd. “On this day, having completed the designated task and relinquishing his godhood, Vincent Corinthos is released from the Pit. Let him go forth in good faith.”

  There were no cheers, but no jeers, either. As Hades began rolling the scroll back up, the crowd began filing out of the arena. The latent anger I’d sensed earlier had vanished. I let out a sigh of relief. As Orcus shut off the mike, I looked at Hades. “You knew none of them would take you up on that offer,” I said.

  “Of course I knew,” Hades laughed. “Vincent, no one in their right mind would take that offer, you included. Live as a mortal? A frail, temporary existence that would likely end in returning here to be tortured all over again? And they’d know that failing my tasks, or even just coming back here, would result in torments far worse than what they’re enduring now. No deity would do that to themselves. But now they won’t be jealous of you; they’ll think you a fool.”

  “And your power base is secure, and no one questions Orcus’s judgment,” I said flatly. “Everyone’s happy.”

  “Quite right,” Hades smiled. He was choosing to ignore my snark. Fine.

  “Well then,” I said. “I certainly don’t want to outstay my welcome. Can I portal back, or is that something that you’ll do for me?”

  “Allow me,” Hades said, conjuring a red and gold gateway. “Give my regards to Petra.”

  “So long,” I said, and stepped through before the Lord of the Underworld could change his mind. Hades had dropped me into my kitchen, where I found Petra taking a tray of cookies out of the oven.

  She heard the portal sizzling shut and spun, somehow keeping the cookies from flying off the sheet. She deposited it on the stovetop and caught me up in a fierce hug. “You’re back,” she said, squeezing me. “For good?”

  “For good,” I said, snuggling into her shoulder. We stayed that way for a minute, then I asked. “What happened after I left?”

  Petra adjusted the temperature of the oven. “Jeal portaled me back here and took the others to the Undercity. Gearstripper’s going to fix up Billy and then come over here for a Voltron marathon tomorrow night. I think Herb went to be with his dad, and Jeal went back to Cather’s.” Her huge brown eyes were filled with tears of happiness, and I’m pretty sure mine were, too. We hugged again, longer this time. Then Petra pulled away from me.

  “Fighting Croatoan, when he had your face, that was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do,” she said.

  “I dunno, you looked like you weren’t pulling your punches.”

  She snorted. “For all the good it did. But I just thought about how this… this thing was using your face for evil. And that made me so angry. All the people you try to help, and he was going to pervert that. I couldn’t let him.” She hugged me again, and we were quiet for a minute, just enjoying the feeling of being together.

  “I was worried about you when you drank that syringe full of Astral, but when your body vanished, I knew it would be okay.”

  “Really?”

  She smiled and we pulled apart. “Jeal told me you’d used Astral. So when your body vanished, I figured it was because Hades was putting your spirit back inside it.” Her smile faded. “Were there any strings to your leaving? Did he let you keep your powers?”

  “I can still portal, use apertus energy, and manipulate time,” I said. “Those weren’t things the kobolds gave me. I can’t ever have followers again, though. I need to talk with the kobolds and let them know what’s happened.”

  “When?”

  “Now,” I said, snatching a cookie and stuffing it in my mouth. “Putting this off isn’t going to make it any easier. Want to come?”

  She shook her head. “You do that and get right back to me. I’m going to cook you the most amazing celebratory dinner.”

  A portal from my kitchen took me to the foyer of Cather’s place. Kleep jumped as I stepped into the room, and the little kobold let out a cheer of triumph and hugged me around the waist. A moment later, a blue portal sizzled into being in front of me, and Jeal and the rest of the clan came charging through, tackling me in a dog pile of kobold hugs.

  “I missed you guys, too,” I said, laughing in spite of myself. “I am glad you are well.”

  “I feel the same way, old friend,” Cather said, stepping around the corner. The dragon was wearing a brown fedora with one side pinned up.

  “What’s with the headgear?” I asked.

  Cather tsked. “You certainly need to brush up on your historical fashion, Vincent. This fine headpiece is called a rough-rider’s hat, and was worn by none other than Theodore Roosevelt himself, the twenty-sixth president of the United States and all around gentleman badass.” He tipped the hat. “And the man had outstanding taste in hats. This is dreadfully comfortable. Now, then, Jeal has told me about your victory, shall we celebrate?”

  “No,” I said, untangling myself from the kobolds and standing up. “Things have changed, everyone. I think you can feel it.” The playful mood evaporated so quickly it might as well have never existed. The kobolds’ luminescent eyes were sad, and their shoulders slumped. They knew our connection was severed. “I’m sorry for this, I really am. I think—”

  “I do hate to interrupt you, old friend, but would you come over here for a moment?”

  I frowned at the dragon. “I don’t want to drag this out, Cather. Just—”

  Cather held up a finger. “One moment, Vincent. One. It is all I ask.”

  I walked over to where he stood apart from the kobolds.

  “What?” I asked.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “I’m not their god anymore,” I said. “Hades severed me from being able to have followers. They can sense that. I wanted to address it so they can move on.”

  “Move on? You make this sound like the breakup scene from a bad nineties movie. Vincent, nothing has changed.”

  “Yes it—”

  “No, it has not,” Cather said, his voice sterner. “Do you still want to protect the kobolds, Vincent? Do you still feel affection for them?”

  “Yes.”

  “And
will you still protect them when they are in danger, guide them when they seek advice?”

  “Well, sure, but—”

  “But nothing. The only thing that’s changed is you don’t draw power from their faith anymore. You are still the person who freed them from the redcaps. You are still the person who brought them to me. You are still the person who exemplifies so many of the virtues and traits that the kobolds respect the most. Those things haven’t changed. You are still their god.”

  “I can’t hear their prayers anymore, Cather,” I said, tapping my temple. “I can’t bless them. I can’t heal them. I can’t know when they’re in trouble.”

  “The kobolds never needed your healing, old friend. Your blessings were beneficial, of course, but the kobolds were far from dependent upon them. And as for when they’re in trouble, I see what you mean. If only there were a portable communications device that you could carry in your pocket that allowed you to receive voice and text communications.” His eyes were wide with facetiousness as he said the last.

  “You really think they’ll call or text me if they’re in trouble?”

  “Why not? And you’ll come, won’t you?”

  “Of course I will.”

  “Then go say something positive to your followers, Vincent. They’re starting to look uneasy.”

  I turned back to the kobolds. They were all looking at me with their big eyes. I knelt down so I was at their same height. “Okay, things are going to be a bit different from now on, but I’m always going to be here for you guys. If you need me, call me. Cather has the number. And as always, Kleep speaks for me while I’m not here, and Jeal has full authority to do whatever she needs.”