CHAPTER 35
The magic was wearing off. Og could feel a tingling sensation in his extremities, but the giant knew that it was too late. He was alone and bound. The chains that held him remained strong. They had once been used to keep giants bigger and stronger than he restrained. He was in a prison made by giants, for giants. There was no escape.
He couldn't see this far down. No light traveled here. There were no torches either. He couldn't remember ever having had trouble seeing in Sheol before his imprisonment.
His mind was tortured. There would be no forgiveness from Hidimba. Not if they did that to him. In his head he could hear the screams of the little demon. He was calling for Og-his protector. That was him. He was Og. He could do nothing. Nothing. The screams went on.
He hadn't been in the cell for very long. An hour maybe. It didn't matter. The hunger that he had learned to master was stressed. His mind couldn't hide from it the fact that no food was coming. It was already starting to protest.
He heard the sounds of approaching footsteps intermingled with the imagined cries of his friend Hidimba. They stopped just outside the cell door. So did the cries for now. Og regained his faculties and listened. Somebody was opening the door.
They didn't have a torch. Still, Og could tell that the door was open judging by the subtle movement of air against his skin. Whoever it was remained perfectly still in the carved frame of the stone door. He wondered how they could see . . . unless.
"Who's there," asked the giant.
No answer, only more footsteps. Og could sense that the other entity was close, but the mystery visitor remained silent. Suddenly, the heavy chains began to slough off of the giant's body like the skin of a serpent. Og found that he had recovered sufficiently enough to stand.
"Who's there," the giant asked again. He was reaching his arm out into the darkness all around himself, trying to get a feel of his emancipator. He stopped once he realized how futile it was, and began searching for the door. If his benefactor wanted to remain anonymous that was fine. He didn't, however, have time to play guessing games. Hidimba needed him. He had to get to the little demon.
"Walk to me . . . if it's the door you seek," the visitor finally spoke. Og recognized the voice. It had been a long time.
"Where have they taken Hidimba?" the giant asked.
"You can't save him Og. Save yourself. Go to Armaros. Tell him everything."
"About the giants you mean? I already have. I think. Why are you helping Azazel?"
"I have no choice, but you do. Go now to Armaros while Azazel is occupied with the humans."
Og shook his head in the darkness, but he knew the visitor could see him. "I won't leave Hidimba behind. I will take him with me."
"He is just a demon Og . . . another casualty of Sheol. There have been thousands before just like him. If you are caught I will not be able to free you again."
"That little demon sacrificed himself to save the Child of Truth. If the boy lives it is because of Hidimba. And he's my friend. I think he's worth saving."
Og heard a breath of exasperation leave his visitor's chest. He imagined that his emancipator was angry with him. He didn't care. He heard movement from the direction of the massive stone arch that was the door frame.
"Dantalion's bed," the visitor said. "He lies there still. Follow this tunnel. There is light ahead."
"I know the way," Og replied. He touched his way through the door opening and began to follow the tunnel leading him away from the cell and up towards Hidimba. The blackness ebbed with each step he took. He increased his speed accordingly. Hope, seemingly gone forever just moments before, had once again returned to him and he found the courage to embrace it.
Far behind him now, the visitor remained frozen near the great cell door. He had watched the giant leave with a heavy heart. He wished that he could have talked with him more. Instead he whispered into the stone prison. "The boy has to die Og . . . that's the only way Azazel will ever be stopped." No answer was forthcoming. The visitor didn't expect or want one, but it was better having told his secret.
The Peacock Angel: Rise of the Decarchs Page 58