Seven Kinds of Hell

by Dana Cameron

  I had a lot to think about.

  Everyone else had beaten me to breakfast, and their faces were as somber as the day was beautiful. There was no room next to Will, so I sat at the end. He did wink at me when our eyes met, so I felt pretty good about that.

  Not so about the discussion. Even fruit, eggs, and fresh goat cheese couldn’t cheer that up.

  “We’re pretty sure we need to split up, Zoe,” Danny said as I ate. “If the men who attacked us last night knew where to find us, it’s clear they’re looking for the same things we are. They know where we are, and there’s just the seven of us against who knows how many of them. If we split into three groups, we can probably dodge them, or at least distract them from our real target.”

  “The sanctuary at Claros,” I said, finally putting my thoughts about Will, and food, aside.

  He nodded. “We’ll get there this morning. Ben and I will take the ship north. The rest of you will head into town. You’ll split up there and, with Claudia and Gerry, find your way straight to Claros. Ariana and Will will head south, then loop around. We’ll keep in contact, and if we don’t see anyone following us, we’ll all meet you at Claros.”

  “But what about my training?” I said.

  “On hold,” Gerry said. “Or at least on the fly. That’s why we’re going together. So eat up, then get ready. Don’t take anything more than you need—”

  “I don’t have anything more than I need,” I said, shoveling the last of my breakfast down. I didn’t realize I’d been sneaking looks at Will until I saw him smile, faintly, secretly.

  Danny sat on my bunk while I packed up my clean clothes. He looked better than he had in days. Actually, he looked better than he had, ever, period, and I told him so.

  “This agrees with you,” I said. “I wouldn’t have guessed it.”

  “Me neither. I guess gallivanting doesn’t bother me as much now that it’s on my terms.”

  “Even getting kidnapped?”

  “Even getting the shit kicked out of me.”

  I must have looked surprised.

  Danny’s good humor evaporated. “If I ever see Dmitri again, he gets a bullet in the eye.”

  “Just give me a chance to ask him about my father.” I explained how he had a piece of the figurine that matched the fragment my father had somehow acquired. I looked at him. “You’ve been bullied before, not like this. But even so, this time…you seem different. Better?”

  “Zoe, I kept myself alive. I’m different because I’m not helpless like a kid is, even if it’s just attitude. This time, the only reason it happened was because five huge guys with guns were the bullies, and it took all five of them to get me out of that apartment quietly. That could have happened to anyone, but I survived. I like knowing that, and next time…”

  “Next time, I’ll tear his—no. I’ll save him for you.”

  “Yeah.” He looked thoughtful. “Last night, I thought I heard Georgian being spoken. As in Tbilisi, not Atlanta. I think the men who found us were Dmitri’s; one of his guys was a Georgian.”

  It was a good clue; I wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference between Russian, Georgian, or anything else. “You should tell the others.”

  “I already did. Will and Ben and I discussed it this morning. That’s why we decided to split up, to keep them and Knight off our trail.”

  “So…” I wasn’t exactly sure how to bring this up. “You know I’m…I’m a werewolf?”

  “Yeah.” Suddenly he was shy, too. “Can…would you show me?”

  I shrugged. “I can try. I need a minute.”

  I tried not to think about wanting to show Danny what I’d always wanted to confide in him. I tried not to think about how bad I was at this, how conflicted I was, how worried I was about what the day would bring, my feelings about Will…I shook myself, closed my eyes, and tried to think of nothing. Then I thought, trowel bite.

  I felt the Change, opened my eyes, saw Danny, agape.

  Then, just as quickly, it faded. I was Zoe again.

  No, you’ve always been Zoe. This is just another aspect, I berated myself. No, don’t blame yourself. It will just make it worse. “Did you see—?”

  “I did. It…lasts longer, usually?”

  “I didn’t say I was a good werewolf. But I’m learning.”

  “You’ll get the hang of it. I’m so proud of you.” He hugged me.

  “You’re proud I can turn into a werewolf?”

  “Yep. And someday I’m going to find out just how long you suspected before someone told you it was OK.”

  “Sorry, like I said, I thought I was crazy.”

  “Well, you’re that, too.” He handed me my bag. “Time to go.”

  I shouldered my bag, unspeakably weary all of a sudden. “Don’t fall overboard.”

  “Don’t get kidnapped by Russians,” he returned. “I can’t recommend it.”

  I said good-bye to Ben and got into the Zodiac. The ride to the marina was noisy only because of the engine. No one was talking. Once we were in the marina and we’d gotten our visa stamps in our passports, Ariana and Claudia went to find a rental car. Gerry disappeared.

  Will and I had about thirty seconds to say good-bye.

  “So…what’s the deal?” I said. “Are we back together, or dating, or having sex or what?”

  As soon as the words left my lips, I wanted to call them all back. I just sounded so horrible and defensive and prickly. Same old Zoe.

  “Why?” Will crossed his arms, joking, acting tough. Maybe he wondered how much of the old Zoe was there, too. “You got plans lined up, depending on my answer?”

  I couldn’t pretend to be casual. “I’m sorry, I just…I just want to know what last night was. That’s all.”

  He shrugged, looking just as bewildered—tormented?—as I was. “I don’t know. I think we can’t make any quick decisions about the future while we wait for Ariana’s credit card to clear at the rental desk. I think we need to talk seriously, and we haven’t got time.”

  I nodded, looking away. A thought struck me: What if he really didn’t want me? What if my wish had acted like one of Claudia’s suggestions, and I’d made him want me?

  “If it helps, I’m going to do my best not to get into any romantic entanglements before I see you again,” he said, smiling. “And if I don’t get to see you again, I’ll be very happy we made a bad decision last night.”

  “Don’t talk like that.” I wanted to believe last night was the first step to repairing us.

  “Don’t fool yourself, Zoe. This is dangerous. We all know the risks.”

  I nodded again. For now, I’d have to be satisfied with the illusion we might be together again someday. “Right.” Ariana and Claudia were returning, so I stuck out my hand. “Good seeing you again.”

  He laughed for real this time and pulled me close.

  I tried not to think of it as a good-bye kiss. It was too nice for that. I tried to think of it as a “see you soon, and then we’ll see what happens” kiss. For two cents, I would have chucked it all right then and there and dragged him back to my bunk, and I had very nearly decided to do so when he pulled away.

  He caught his breath, cleared his throat. He’d been thinking about the bunk, too. “Gotta go.”

  I couldn’t speak; he was right. I just nodded again. Jesus, Zoe. You may be more articulate as a wolf.

  Ariana hugged the rest of us good-bye, and we set off.

  Claudia was driving. I was glaring at the map, because it made it easier to hide my tears. Gerry was fooling with the radio, trying to find something besides Turkish language news, Christian broadcasting, and German disco. Finally we settled for Turkish dance music.

  It was a couple of hours driving from Didim to Kusadasi, then to Claros. We had a lot to talk about.

  No one was talking, though.

  “Gerry, where did you take off to?” I said, finally mastering myself.

  “I had to make a call.”

  A long beat. No expla
nation. Unlike the usually voluble Gerry.

  I finally asked, “Is that a euphemism?”

  “No.” He shifted in his seat. “I made a few calls to some folks at home, folks I know are on our side. Partly to let them know about Knight’s plans so they can keep an eye on his office back home. Part of it was to confirm that it was one of his guys who was leading the group of Fangborn following you in Cambridge.”

  He stared at the scenery as it rolled by: flat countryside with hills in the distance, all shades of brown on brown. “At first it was some out-of-town Family looking for strays—for you, Zoe. That was bad enough, coming into our neck of the woods, instead of letting us know about you and letting us take care of bringing you in. It’s the politics, you see—they wanted one more vote on their side. Then Knight’s people stepped in and took over their efforts. He has a lot of sway with the various, more conservative Fangborn factions. He’s definitely going to make a move, and he’s consolidating power.”

  “So the Fangborn are…getting ready for war?”

  He scowled. “With any luck, we’ll stop Knight before he can get that far.”

  We arrived at the site, a bit of low ground just off the road, surrounded by fields and ringed with hills in the distance. The site was empty at the moment, but we’d passed a van leaving as we pulled up. It was about lunchtime, so we dug into the bag of food we’d brought from the boat. After, Claudia dusted off her hands. “Ready, Professor?”

  “Uh, for what?”

  “Little tour of the site. Tell us what we’re looking at so when we come back tonight we can be ready and acquainted.”

  I looked around, gathering my thoughts. The air was hot and smelled of oranges from a nearby grove and stale water in ditches around the site. There were huge slabs of marble that contrasted brightly with brown ground, patches of scrubby pale-green bushes, and weedy, prickly plants. There were orchards just beyond the site, leading up to bare, rocky hills. I could see the remains of archaeological field seasons past, as well as some hints of the season in progress: fresh-cut trenches, square and regular; a pump system to drain the groundwater away; a small shelter, hastily constructed with palm fronds and sticks from around the site, was set up over a table. I knew that’s where the maps would be drawn, or perhaps the supervisor would oversee progress in the various units from here.

  It felt familiar. It made me miss Will all the worse.

  Beyond the remains of the temple were the ruins of colossi, of Apollo and Artemis. Pillars tens of feet high gave the idea that once, long, long ago, this place had been splendid.

  “OK, I’m going to cover about a thousand years of history and religion and architecture in fifteen minutes.” I took a deep breath. “Claros was important for a couple of reasons. For one thing, it wasn’t a proper town, but a refuge. It was considered particularly holy, special, even though two towns nearby also had temples. Claros had something else, and I’m starting to wonder whether the something else wasn’t Fangborn related. Anyway, Claros was so important that Alexander the Great stopped by here to ask the oracle whether he should build his city at Smyrna.”

  I pointed over to what looked like the top of a small underground maze. “The temple would have been over there, and beneath that was where the oracle worked. You’d be told to feel your way down those steps and into a gradually narrowing tunnel. Remember, this would all be under the temple, so you’d be in complete darkness. Claustrophobia would be easy to come by, because the walls were closing in around you as you found your way forward. You’d hear echoes of the water, and the space would be filled with weird noises as you moved, literally, deeper and deeper into the world of the sacred and away from worldly life. You’d eventually find a space and a bench, where you were told to sit, and an attendant would take your name to the oracle. Who would…prophesy. Maybe in verse.”

  I shivered. It had to have been a profoundly weird experience. I led them across the uneven ground, then down the stairs and through the tunnel, to the spring. A grate was over the well, which was filled with green algae and a dyspeptic-looking toad. Not much mystery left here, today anyway.

  “There certainly was a theatrical aspect to the oracle’s visit,” Claudia said. “A theater of prophesy, to get the client into the…spirit of the thing.”

  Gerry just looked uncomfortable.

  I tried to feel the walls, even tried to sense beyond them, but without much success. I couldn’t tell if there was a frisson by the well or if that was just a breeze coming down the tunnel. Already the place was playing tricks on me. When the disk stayed cool and dull, when I realized there would be no pyrotechnics, I shrugged. We left the tunnel and wandered past the altar stone, the giant foot from the statue of Artemis, and around the remains of the temple, but still no real luck.

  There were a couple of places I thought I felt a…something. A kind of a tingle, a change in temperature to the touch? A flicker before my eyes? Not unexpectedly, these were never at the same time Gerry or Claudia might have sensed something, and for the most part, I was willing to chalk it up to microclimate or plain old hopefulness. Finally we sat on the bench at the propylaea, where pilgrims sat thousands of years ago and scratched their names into the stone while they waited for the priests.

  We were starting to draw attention from other tourists and what looked like a few young archaeologists taking their friends for a tour. Their body language and behavior was so familiar, so like mine with Will and Sean, I almost couldn’t stand it. When it was clear they weren’t leaving any time soon, I gave up.

  “We’ll come back later,” I said. Perhaps the night—and the moon—would bring better results.

  We waited until it was completely dark before we dared return to the site. The Turkish authorities took a very dim view of anyone messing with their sites, and I certainly couldn’t risk Knight finding us. Praying the moon would give me a boost, I moved to the propylaea, the entrance to the temple, and knelt down. I ran my hands over the inscriptions left by visitors and felt…

  …nothing.

  I tried hard to remember what I’d felt when the disk had gone crazy on Delos. I reassured myself it was still in my pocket, hunkered down, and tried not to think about what I was doing. I focused on the things outside myself, tried to relax, and thought, trowel bite.

  A tickle, a tremor—something related to the Change, but nothing I’d experienced before. A surge of adrenaline.

  A warning. Was it like the call to Change I’d felt on Mykonos? No. Subtle, too different.

  “Gerry, Claudia!” I hissed. “Something…is going to happen!”

  “What?”

  “I don’t know, I need to Change, I tried, and I got…warned, instead. Something’s coming!”

  “I’ll be right over.”

  Gerry was by my side in an instant. He grabbed my shoulders and said, “Ready? One, two—”

  I Changed before he finished. The half-Change snapped into place so quickly, it felt like a slap. Again, nothing like before. “Did you feel that?” I was too dizzy to whisper. “What was that?”

  He shook his furry head as if he had a bee in his ear. “I don’t know, but you’re right—that wasn’t normal! Something’s coming. Claud!”

  “I’m on it. You guys, get hid.”

  “I need to get to the temple ruins,” I said. “I need to check out the hot spot in the tunnel.”

  “Good a place to hide you as any,” he said. “Go!”

  We zigged and zagged across the site, avoiding fallen ruins and deep excavation pits. I would have laughed with the joy of moving so fast, so silently in tandem with Gerry under that moonlit night sky. But something was coming, and something—the site?—was telling me I didn’t have much time.

  The oracle’s tunnel was darker than the night. It was darker than the shadows around it.

  And yet, I flew down the stairs, uneven and slick, as if I was running into my own home, a familiar place I’d never known. The dark closed in around me, but not like this afternoon, when I un
derstood how the suppliants were drawn into an eerie experience by the confinement of the tunnel, the descent into the ground, the sounds echoing from the dark. This was a blanket of black.

  Down there—a light, something glowing at the end of the short, narrow tunnel. If I hadn’t been absolutely certain we had been the only ones on the site when we arrived, I would have imagined this was some kind of official police light, the strobing bubble on the roof of a cruiser. The closer I got, the brighter it was, until it was so bright, it was nearly white.

  Like Delos.

  It hurt my eyes, but I kept moving into it. It seemed as though it was coming from the well of the oracle.

  Either my eyes adapted or the brightness faded. The stones themselves were no longer granite or marble, but seemed to be made of glass, the light coming from inside them. Behind them? It was like being inside a model of “the visible man,” where I could see the entire structure illuminated from inside.

  There were no stars over me now. It was as though the temple was now intact. There were walls, fully formed and raised to complete ceilings. No more plain white marble: all of the architecture and statuary was gaudy with painted and gilt color. Chambers that hadn’t been here this afternoon were here now, that hadn’t been standing for centuries maybe. It should have been impossible to see them—I couldn’t see through the walls of light. It was more like the idea of them was now alive in my brain, an instant reconstruction. If I pushed my proximity sense just a little, I had a blurry image of the colossal statues of Apollo and Artemis just beyond.

  The well was now complete, just the same, as solid to my touch as any cold stone. It pulsed, as if some giant engine somewhere were rumbling to life.

  No mere feeling or hunch now: one of the rocks near where I imagined I’d found a hot spot earlier was glowing aquamarine among the pale blue-white walls. The disk, tucked securely in my shirt pocket, was radiating the same color.

  In the discipline of archaeology, we are trained to notice the slightest variations. I giggled, nerves overtaking me: this glowing blue light was, as we called it in the trade, a clue.