“Scarlett, we have to go!” shouted Sophia above the noise. I glanced around and saw that the others had all found and climbed back onto their mounts.
“I-I can’t just leave her like this!”
“You have to!” yelled Mikey. He pointed to the Umbra vehicles, which were fast approaching on the horizon. “If we stay here, we’re all dead!”
“I can’t leave her like this. I won’t!” I raised a hand up to the sky and shouted as loudly as I could, signaling my soaring Gargoyle. “Carry her to the citadel!” I turned to Mikey. “Get your Protector to help!”
A second later both of the stone creatures swooped down and gently scooped up the wounded Picera into their claws, carrying her towards the citadel in the distance. I picked up the broken horn and fixed it to my belt. Sophia rode over and held out a hand; I grabbed it and she heaved me onto Freyala’s back.
“Go!” I shouted.
Sophia cracked the reins and moments later we were once again riding across the flatlands. The battle raged on, giant Ion beams that missed their targets screaming past and tearing chunks out of the cliffs we were heading towards. Behind us, countless numbers of the hulking tanks and landships exploded in torrents of fire, shuddering to the ground. The evacuating soldiers that parachuted from the doomed machines were reduced to particles by the deluge of gunfire, or crushed beneath a thousand of tons of metal when they landed.
The Citadel of Blackened bones grew larger – a looming mass of dark spires that stretched up towards the sky like a cluster of colossal stalagmites. All the while the reserve forces grew closer, their giant wheels creating a veil of dust around them. It was an entire convoy – easily three hundred vehicles – each with the firepower to rip us to pieces in seconds if they noticed us. Nervous sweat poured from my brow, making my red hair cling to my face in thick strands as I clutched onto Sophia’s waist and silently willed us to move faster.
After what felt like an eternity we reached the citadel. The foreboding structure loomed above us like a solidified shadow, towering over a thousand feet into the dark sky. Arching windows and gigantic crackling torches encased the building, and a set of sweeping black steps led up to massive iron doors.
We all ground to a halt and I jumped from Freyala’s back, sprinting up the stairs and signaling for everyone to follow. The team jumped from their Unicorns and horses and grabbed their reins, pulling them up the steps as fast as they could. The Protectors hovered just above us, carrying the whinnying Picera in their huge claws. I glanced to the east and saw that the new arrivals were less than a thousand feet away.
If the doors are barred then its over.
I had no idea what was on the other side of the citadel as I rushed up the stairs and I didn’t care. All I knew was that I had to get everyone away from the devastating battle as soon as possible. Even if the Umbra didn’t kill us outright, there was no way they would just let us go, and that would mean the end of our mission. I can’t allow us to fail. I made a promise. I owe it to Gabriella. I owe it to everyone. I slammed my shoulder into the doors, pushing with all of my strength.
They didn’t budge.
“Help me!” I shouted. The others sprinted up the stairs, and soon five Guardians, sixteen Vengeful, and one Lightwarden were heaving against the doors, straining with every single muscle. There was a loud groan and then the barriers gave way, releasing a rush of dusty air as the doors opened. I glanced over my shoulder. The vehicles were less than five hundred feet away. All it takes is for one of them to look up at the citadel entrance and we’re done.
“Inside!” I commanded.
We ran backwards, snatching Unicorn and horse reins and tugging the frightened animals across the threshold. Mikey and I signalled the Protectors and they flew through the opening. As soon as everyone had made it inside, we turned and pushed against the doors, closing them with a loud thud. A large iron bar was set to one side. Lightwarden Udan, Aran and I grabbed it, slotting it across the entrance and barring it shut. I let out a gasp and slid down the door. Sweat streamed down my face as I stared down at the floor. We all stayed silent, waiting for the inevitable pounding on the door, the signal that we had been discovered.
It didn’t come.
“They’re going past us towards the battle,” breathed Sophia. She was peering through a narrow window that stood at the side of the doors. She turned and gave a smile. “They didn’t see us.”
There were a series of relieved sighs and then I gave a humourless laugh as the insanity of what we had just survived hit me. Outside, I could hear the overwhelming example of the Ageless War continuing to rage on. The sound of exploding shells were muffled through the thick walls of the citadel, but with each nearby blast the building shuddered and creaked, sending down showers of dust from above.
No one said or did anything for a while – it was clear that everyone just wanted to take a moment to appreciate the fact that against immeasurable odds, we were still alive. Then I remembered Picera and stood up, looking properly at the place we had found ourselves for the first time.
The interior of the citadel was cathedral-like. It was also beyond sinister. Dark vaulting covered the tall ceiling above our heads and was filled with hanging spikes that resembled giant hornet stingers. Deep troughs lined the outer aisles of the vast nave, filled with a bed of crackling flames. Flickering torches – fixed to the walls by dark, protruding candelabra – provided the rest of the building’s light.
Supernatural flame, or is someone home? I thought, stepping forward.
It was only when I moved closer that I discovered that the torch holders were actually severed skeletal arms, the scorched bones ending in fists that clutched around the bases of the torches. At that moment a horrified, dawning realisation poured over me as it became apparent that everything was coated in the bones of the dead, just like Aegis Caria had forewarned. A shudder ran through me as the ghastly sight reminded me of Sinner’s Vault, the now defunct prison where I had spent two awful days during early Vampire life.
This place is sickening.
The Protectors had placed Picera down in a domed apse-like area at the end of the long nave. The surface of the large domed ceiling depicted the Six Dragons, led by the Dragon God who bathed the screaming masses below in its fiery breath.
“Everyone break apart into smaller teams and search this place,” I commanded. “Make sure that we’re alone. If you do see or hear anything, shout as loudly as you can and we’ll all converge on your position. Vengeful, that includes you.”
There were sounds of agreement and then everyone peeled off in groups, heading through various archways that led to different areas of the foreboding structure. I paced down the centre aisle between spiked pews that were coated in old blood. I reached Picera and the emotions washed over me again. She was in a bad way. Foam frothed around her mouth and her eyes had turned from aquamarine blue to a bloody red.
Pulling the broken horn out of my pocket, I crouched down and tried to press it against the broken stump, hoping – even though I knew it was pointless – that it would somehow reattach itself.
“A Unicorn cannot survive a broken horn,” said a voice next to me. I turned and saw that Aran had appeared next to me.
“I know…I just feel so guilty,” I confessed. “I made us travel in this direction. We should have waited for the battle to be over.”
“In the opinion of Aran the battle taking place outside of the Citadel of Blackened Bones will not conclude for many hours. Huntmaster Scarlett Reid made a decision that whilst creating risks, benefited the overall mission. Leaders are created to make the difficult decisions that others cannot. Aran believes that the choice of action chosen was the correct one.” For a moment it looked as though Aran was going to place a hand on my shoulder, but then she redirected, placing it on Picera’s neck instead.
“This animal is suffering. As there is no chance of recovery, a swift death would be the prudent option.”
Tears stung at the corners of my e
yes. “I know.”
“Aran can perform the action if Huntmaster Scarlett Reid would prefer not to.”
I shook my head and pulled a gun from my belt, loading a diamond bullet into the chamber. “No, this was my fault. I’ll do it.”
Aran nodded and then stepped back. I stroked the pained Unicorn’s neck and head with my free hand, feeling the soft-as-gossamer hair against my fingers. I heard the sound of hooves behind me and saw that the other Unicorns had walked up the aisle and were standing in a cluster, watching. I froze for a moment, expecting an attack, but their eyes stayed turquoise and calm.
They understood.
“Please forgive me, Picera,” I whispered as tears splashed down my cheeks. I pressed the gun to her head and looked away. The Unicorn gave a gentle whinny.
I pulled the trigger.
The shot echoed around the expansive room, and I heard Picera’s head settle against the floor. A wave of grief washed through me and I swallowed a lump of sadness down in my throat. I held the gun out behind me. “Just take it,” I said to Aran.
The Urisk took the gun from me. A second later everyone else rushed into the nave with their weapons raised. “We heard a gunshot,” said Iralia. “Is everyone okay?”
I stood up. “It’s okay, everyone. Picera had to be….” I couldn’t finish my sentence.
“Oh, I see. I’m sorry.”
I started to say something else, but was stopped in my tracks when there was a loud bang from behind a set of iron doors beyond Picera’s body. “Mikey, send your Protector to guard the front doors with mine. Everyone else with me.”
On our orders the Gargoyles moved to the citadel entrance, where they settled down in front of the doors, their large jaws unhinged and ready to spray hellfire over anyone who tried to enter. Everyone else closed into a tight group, and we all stalked forward with our weapons raised. Mikey and I were at the front, and we pushed against one of the metal doors, which opened much more easily than I had expected.
We stepped through into an incredibly dark hall lined with pillars and a run of balconies. At the end of the long passage was a sickening throne made from the burned bones and flayed skin of countless Pandemonians. It was empty, as was the rest of the room.
Or so I thought.
It was only when we had crept right into the hall that my vampiric senses told me something wasn’t right. My fangs slipped down from my gums and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up as I sensed a threat. There was shuffling from around us as shapes moved quickly in the darkness.
“Get out!” I shouted, but it was too late.
Dozens of the mutilated soldiers – identical to those we had fought in the Atrius – stepped out of the shadows. Before anyone could react, the doors behind us were slammed shut and sealed. There was a dark, depraved laugh from deep within the long room, and the Scorched Knight emerged on the balcony above the throne. The flaming glow of her uniform crackled among the darkness of the room. Dread overcame me as I looked around and saw that we were surrounded, with no way out.
“Welcome, Guardians,” Lilith said. “I have been waiting for you.”
42
Gabriella
The time for the Spectacle Event arrived.
My heart thumped with adrenaline as a dozen heavily armed Pitguards marched me further into the labyrinthine depths of the Abyss. My hands and feet were shackled tightly together and I had to shuffle instead of walk. The guards were still hands-off, but they were as serious as death, wearing blank expressions and carrying tension in their bodies. It didn’t take a genius to work out why they were so on edge.
They are scared of Hades.
We walked down a sand-covered hallway and I realised it was the same area I had been wheeled down when I’d first arrived at the colosseum. I could hear the muffled roar of the crowds in the distance, which sounded far more powerful than before – enough that the ceiling peppered dust down around us. As we moved, more guards appeared from connecting corridors, ushering shackled Chosen into the central passageway. I didn’t recognise any of them – most were older and covered with badly healed scars, no doubt the results of poison-coated blades and bullets. I ran my eyes over them as they merged into the group, searching for familiar faces.
I saw Peter Eden.
He came in from the right, bound by shackles and wearing ornate white armour that had two cracked, black skulls embossed on the chest plates.
Deathbreaker.
The only picture I’d seen of Peter was sixteen years old, but there was no mistaking who he was. He had the same slender face and dark hair as Alex – albeit streaked with grey – and the same bright green eyes, which were lined with crow’s feet. He also had a number of pot marks and scars webbing the right side of his bearded face.
I saw him at the same time he saw me and there was instant recognition. An intense urge to call his name filled me up, but I saw him give an almost imperceptible shake of his head. He blended with the dozen or so other Chosen, who all walked silently down the corridor and then he vanished from view behind the caped backs of the Pitguards.
The roaring of the crowds got louder with every step that we took, and I could feel my apprehension growing. Peter and I had talked about escaping like it was something we would just do, but the reality was far more challenging. The guards were making no mistakes, and by the sounds of the crowds, there were a lot of people who could potentially stop us. I had no clue how we were going to do what we were planning.
The long passageway continued to snake its way through the colosseum. I searched for Troy, but despite his height, couldn’t see him among the even taller guards. Eventually the meandering corridor opened out into an extensive antechamber ringed by suspended walkways. Countless Pitguards stood on the raised ledges, large rifles set into mounts attached to the railings and aiming down at us. At our level, all manner of melee weapons hung from racks lining the room – swords, knives, axes, machetes, halberds, bladed whips, a chainsaw, maces and morning stars were all available. The various weapons shook on their mounts from the baying of the crowd beyond.
The Pitguards ushered all the Chosen together and I saw Troy for the first time. He had burns over his face and arms, which attendants had covered up as much as they could with makeup, but he was still in bad shape – the skin red raw and the top part of his lip completely burned away. He was wearing a dark wig of choppy hair that fell to his temples. In contrast to the beautifully designed replica of our uniform he wore, he looked sick and defeated. He noticed me and tried his best to smile, wincing as his lips cracked apart.
“Troy,” I said, taking his shackled hand in mine and speaking as quietly as I could. “I found Alex’s father.”
“My god, really? Which one is he?”
“Don’t look right away, but he’s the man in the white armour. Stick with us. We’re getting out of here.”
“Good, because I can’t take any more of this place.”
“No talking, Taken!” barked the Pitguard and Troy huffed as the butt of a rifle dug into his side. We broke apart and the same guard raised a hand, silencing the room. “Most of you have been here before. But for those who haven’t, there are three rules.” He held up an index finger. “One. You can take up to two weapons each, but no more. Some of them will be your personal ones, which we confiscated when you silly little fools got yourselves caught. Use them if you wish, or use something else. We don’t care.” He held up a second finger. “Two. Our great leader will be out there today. You will bow and give him respect. If you don’t, you will die in ways that you simply cannot imagine.” He held up a third finger. “Three. All battles are to the death. Kill or be killed Chosen.”
The Pitguard moved away from us and signalled to the other guards. They pushed open the metal doors at the end of the room, which revealed a massive area with huge tunnels leading off into different directions and a final set of doors at the end that were among the biggest I’d ever seen. The entire area was lined with two rows of Pitguards�
� who created a makeshift pathway between the two sets of doors – each standing silently with their gun at the ready. There were at least one hundred on either side.
How the hell are we going to do this?
I turned back to Troy, but – like the other Chosen – he had already moved to the weapon racks and after a moment I saw him pick up his trusty warhammer. Wait…if his hammer is here …does that mean? I scanned around the room and saw them, lying on a shelf among several other knives as if they were nothing of importance.
The Blood Brothers.
I moved as fast as the shackles would allow me and collected them up into my hands. It was all I could do to stop a smile from forming on my face.
If only they knew what these were.
When I was done, I saw that the other Chosen had made their selections and were moving towards the threshold of the weapons room. The Pitguards removed their shackles and then they were ushered on towards the final doors. I joined the ranks, feeling the chants of the crowds reverberate through me. A Pitguard unshackled my ankle chains, followed by my wrist binds.
“Did us a favour with Physicker Agorias,” he whispered to me. “Horrible little runt. But, he was Lilith’s pet, so rest assured, you’ll pay out there.”
I gave a wide smile as I felt the trusty weight of the Blood Brothers in my hand. “I look forward to it.”
The Pitguard swore at me under his breath and then walked away. I followed the other Chosen through the vast space beyond the weapons room, my heartbeat accelerating as the deafening chants of the crowd pounded from beyond the door like a verbal fist. I scanned around me and saw thirteen other Chosen. Fourteen Guardians versus whatever lies beyond.
Six Pitguards stepped forward from the row and threw their entire bodyweight against the gigantic doors, forcing them open inch by inch. The crowd reacted in an instant, their cheering like a vocal tidal wave washing over us. I gripped the hilts of my Blood Brothers as tightly as I could. Whatever they throw at you Ella, you can handle it.
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