by Cara Wylde
“What do you think it’s like? It’s called the Blank.”
“So… empty?” I didn’t like where this was going. I reached into the pocket of my uniform blazer, but the bell wasn’t there. I’d left it in my room.
“Empty, dark, floating in an endless space of sensory deprivation. I’ve never been there, obviously, but that’s how books describe it. And if you think this is fun, then hear this: not only are pixies sent to the Blank, but they each have their own cage. And they stay there, locked up, until their master calls on them again. There are horror stories about masters who got bored of their pixies and left them in the Blank to rot. Pixies are not immortal, but they do have awfully long lives.”
“Oh my God!” I covered my mouth with my hands. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“I thought you knew!”
“Corri never told me.”
“She probably didn’t want to upset you. That would get her a penalty from the Council. But I thought you’d done your research.”
“Well, apparently, I’m not as smart as you think I am!” I yelled at him and ran out of the dining hall.
I couldn’t get to the north tower fast enough, and then the stairs literally killed me. I was a mess by the time I reached my floor. Panting, sweating, and cursing under my shallow breath, I burst through the door, rummaged through my bedside drawer, and pulled out the bell. I rang it desperately.
“Mistress, you’re back! I’m back! How may I serve you?”
“Oh my God, Corri!” I grabbed her by the waist and pulled her to my chest. She yelped, then let out a pained screech, and I realized I was squeezing her too hard. I held her more gently but didn’t let go. “I’m so sorry! I had no idea. You never told me, and I was so stupid, so clueless, so busy with my own damn drama, that I didn’t think… I should have asked you, should have asked someone…”
“I don’t understand what’s happening.”
I held her at arm’s length and looked into her big, almond eyes. “The Blank. I had no idea that every time I sent you away, you were locked up in a cage, in complete darkness.” An odd mix of fear, sadness, and gratitude flashed across her tiny face. “I’m sorry. I promise I will never do that to you again. You’re staying here, with me. I’m never sending you away.”
“Thank you,” she said in a small voice. “You don’t have to, you know? I’m used to it. It’s… natural.”
“Corri, there’s nothing natural about it! There’s nothing natural about pixie slavery. Was your kind ever free?”
“Oh, a long time ago. Long, long time ago.”
“And don’t you want to be free again?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. What would I do if I were free? At least, with the way things are, I have a purpose.”
I shook my head. She didn’t know what freedom was. She couldn’t even imagine it. All these incredible powers, and the pixies weren’t going to use them to rebel, because freedom had been bred out of them. I couldn’t get her a therapist, like Klaus had sarcastically suggested, but I could get her a friend. Me.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Friday couldn’t come fast enough. Professor Maat was getting us ready for the field trip to Hell with a bunch of extra assignments, and all I could think about was Lovecraft’s stories about the Great Old Ones. We were studying the Nine Circles of Hell, and I showed up unprepared on Thursday, made a mess of the Third Circle, which was Gluttony, but thank God I was Morningstar’s daughter! Mrs. Maat didn’t take any points from me. I’d already passed Francis on the worth scoreboard and was on second place after Sariel. None of it was for real or made any sense, but who cared? The worth score system was broken before I was popular, and now it was just as broken, but I was at the opposite end of where I’d been in year one. In truth, nothing had changed. Just my perception of it. I’d cared a lot about my worth points back then, when I had to do everything in my power to stay afloat. Now I knew it was a rigged system that had nothing to do with the real world, so I couldn’t care less. Being second didn’t mean I really was the second-best student at the Academy. It just meant my father was who he was, the professors were afraid of him, so they were trying to get into his good graces by boosting my grades and worth points.
I was sure a lot of my classmates hated me for real now, but no one dared to say a word or make one wrong step. They should have hated the stupid system, not me. It wasn’t like I could have chosen my parents. If I could have, Valentine wouldn’t have been my father. I wasn’t sure about Katia. I knew so little about her that I tried not to judge. Mostly, I tried not to think about her at all.
The Literature class was full. Mr. Lovecraft had asked us to read quite the brick on holiday – The Possessed by Dostoevsky – and I was genuinely surprised so many students had done their homework and actually read it. They probably thought it was about demons. Some Stephen King-type horror, I chuckled to myself. Pazuzu shot me a confused look. He was right. The Possessed was a sad, heavy, depressing story, and laughing while Mr. Lovecraft was trying to help us understand Stavrogin was super disrespectful.
I bounced my leg the whole class, checking the time every five minutes and annoying the crap out of GC, who hadn’t only read the book, but also loved it.
“The fuck’s wrong with you? I’m trying to pay attention.”
“Sorry.” I rolled my eyes. If it hadn’t been for me, he would’ve never taken Literature. Neither would have Paz, Sariel, Pandora, and the rest of the students who’d made it their mission to follow me around. They’d ruined the class for me, anyway.
Corri was sitting on top of my book, which made a pretty tall chair for her. She kicked her tiny legs back and forth, not much more patient than I was.
Saved by the bell! I told GC and Paz I’d catch up with them later, then waited for everyone to leave the classroom. Sariel shot me a questioning glance, and I masterfully ignored him. Since I’d had dinner with the Gracewings, he seemed to be following me around even more fiercely. For the life of me, I couldn’t understand what his deal was. I thought he wanted to be there to protect me from Lorna at first, but Lorna had disappeared from the picture almost completely. We rarely saw her around anymore, and rumor had it that she was dating some poor sap from the Righteous Death Cabal.
“Professor Lovecraft, do you have a minute?”
“Of course, Miss Morningstar.”
“I wanted to return the books.” Corri made the two volumes float right onto his desk.
“Have you read them?” I nodded, and his whole face lit up. “What did you think?”
I cleared my throat. Well, you’re not going to win any literature prizes anytime soon. “Err… yes, I… I enjoyed them a lot. They were… different.”
“Different. That was one thing I was going for.”
I had to do better. “Dark, gloomy, suspenseful… I could really feel the characters’ tension, their horror when they came face to face with the unknown. The terror of not knowing what would happen next, but also the certitude they’d never be the same.” I was describing my own experience with Francis’s monster.
Professor Lovecraft nodded enthusiastically.
“So, I have a few questions,” I took out my notebook. “I was especially intrigued by Yig, the King of Serpents. Where did you first hear about him? You said you were inspired by old mythology?”
“Very old, and not very mainstream, like the ones you studied with Professor Halo. Yig comes from the Native American culture. Some say he is the same with Quetzalcoatl, the Mesoamerican feathered serpent, the god of the wind, the air, and learning, but I’m not really on board with this theory. I believe they’re different.”
“But Quetz… erm…” Fuck. I couldn’t pronounce the name. “The Mesoamerican god would be a false god, right?” He nodded. “While Yig is a Great Old One.”
“Exactly. That’s why I don’t believe they’re one and the same.”
“This is very confusing. I’m sorry, so Quetz-whatever is a false god, wh
ich means he is real, existed, or still exists somewhere in the wide world, and Yig is… not real?”
“Yes to the first part of your question, maybe/not sure to the last one. That’s the thing with the Great Old Ones. Maybe they’re among us, maybe they’re not.”
I cocked an eyebrow. I wasn’t getting anywhere. Moving on…
“So, the way you described him… Did you take that from the old stories, as well?”
“No. That was one hundred percent my imagination. The stories describe him in various ways. Honestly, I think that if he did exist, and ten people saw him, you’d end up with ten completely different descriptions. That’s the nature of the Great Old Ones. Everyone perceives them through their own fears, beliefs, dreams and nightmares.”
“Fascinating.” Still not getting anywhere. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s say the Great Old Ones do exist. How do you… kill them?”
Surprise was written all over his face. “Kill them? Where did you get that idea? No one can kill them. They just are, which is the opposite of are not.”
I blinked, completely lost. What the hell does that mean? “But they are beings. And all beings are born and can die. Even the immortal ones. Vampires are immortal and they can still be killed or can kill themselves.” Which was, actually, very common, as I’d learned in Psychology. “Everything that is born will have its soul reaped at some point.”
“Your logic is sound. You’ve spoken like a true Grim Reaper. Except… the Great Old Ones are not born. They are. That’s all. They just are.”
I shook my head. “That doesn’t make sense. It’s not how our universe works.”
“It’s not how our dimension works, I agree. But, between you and me, I don’t think they come from this dimension.”
I left his class more confused than before. Maybe I can find something about the Great Old Ones at the library. I just couldn’t wrap my head around the theory that they just were. They were never born, so they could never die. I was lost in thought, so I didn’t notice Sariel waiting for me outside of Mr. Lovecraft’s classroom.
“You asked him about the thing in the well.”
I jumped out of my skin. My hand went to my heart, and I pressed hard.
“What the hell?! Don’t do that! What’s wrong with you?”
He fell in step with me. “What did he tell you?”
“You were eavesdropping, so I’m sure you already know.”
“Maybe I want to hear it from you.”
“Why?”
“Because if you say it out loud, you might come to accept it.”
I sighed. “The Great Old Ones cannot be killed. They just are.”
He smirked. “Better?”
“Absolutely not!” I realized I’d yelled, and I lowered my voice. Sariel leaned in. “Francis is bringing sacrifices to that… thing. Not symbolic sacrifices like, I don’t know, bread, whiskey, cake. Blood sacrifices. And not animals, either. We have to stop that.”
“We?”
“I have to stop that.”
“Wow. You have a knack for picking extracurricular projects. You heard the guy: you can’t kill a Great Old One.”
“Everything that has a soul can be killed. Reaped. There must be a loophole. Now all I have to do is find it.”
“You’re going to the library.”
“Yep.”
“I’m coming with you.”
I stopped in my tracks. Okay. What’s going on here? I thought Sariel had stayed behind because he’d overheard me and Mr. Lovecraft. Apparently, he had other reasons, too.
“Why are you coming with me?” I fixed him with the most serious look I could muster.
He shoved his hands in the pockets of his uniform jacket and shrugged.
“I just thought we could spend some time together.”
“You just thought,” I mocked him. “What are you doing, Gracewing?”
“What do you mean?”
“Did your mother tell you to flirt with me?”
“I’m not flirting.”
“Then what is this?”
“I just thought…”
“You just thought…”
“We could be friends.”
I looked at him for a long moment then threw my head back and laughed out loud. Okay, so maybe I didn’t have to laugh that hard, but I felt like I had to make a point. It had the anticipated effect. Sariel narrowed his eyes at me, suddenly unhappy with my brash attitude, and took a step back.
“That’s what I thought,” I said between chuckles. “I’m gonna go now, so please don’t follow me. Let me make that even clearer.” I pointed at the corridor ahead. “I go,” then at him, “You stay.”
“Fuck you,” he mumbled as I walked away
That’s the Sariel I know.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Just like Heaven, Hell had two entrances in the US. Feeling generous, professor Maat chose the most beautiful one, located in one of Arizona’s breathtaking canyons. Since I hadn’t traveled much, I was excited, but at the same time, terrified. I was going to visit Hell. When Pazuzu’s mother found out that the Gracewings had had me for dinner in Heaven, she decided she had to go the extra mile, beat them at their own game, and throw me a party. GC, Paz, and I were invited, which of course, made sense, but then she invited Francis and Sariel, too, and that was where she lost me. Maybe she wanted to show Sariel that a dinner party in Hell was better than a simple dinner in Heaven? These people mystified me…
Anyway, I liked Lamia Eremus, I’d met her at the Yule Ball, so I couldn’t wait to see her again. My boyfriends had the best mothers, and they both loved me! What more could I ask for?
The canyon was made of red sandstone, and it was the most breathtaking thing I’d ever seen in my life. It was difficult to navigate, there were places where stairs weren’t available, and there were spots so narrow that I could barely fit. It wasn’t open to humans, and those who ignored the warnings and went in anyway, never returned. Spiral rock arches ascended toward the sky all around me, and the sun sent its beams down the openings and crevices, creating a scenery that, in my opinion, was way prettier than what I saw in Heaven. The gateway to Hell was behind a narrow passageway between two spiral columns, and once we managed to squeeze through it one by one, the cave opened up, and we saw the dark mouth to Hell.
I gulped.
“Don’t worry, it’s safe for us,” Pazuzu encouraged me.
“Who isn’t it safe for?”
He chuckled. “For the humans who can’t get it through their thick skulls that this canyon is not open to tourists.”
“What happens to them?”
“If they come this far and find the mouth to Hell, what do you think happens? It swallows them whole.”
“They can turn back.” I looked at the deep, ominous cavern we were supposed to enter. Professor Maat was already stepping into the darkness. “Who would ever choose to go in there instead of just going back?”
“They don’t actually have a choice. It’s too tempting. Don’t you feel it? Supernaturals instinctively know what it is, and they stay away from the canyon. But humans don’t know how to listen to their instinct. Don’t you feel drawn to it?”
Now that he mentioned it, I did feel inexplicably pulled toward the darkness. It’s fine. At least, I know what I’m getting into. Those poor, curious souls, though… A bunch of VDC students followed professor Maat. GC and Paz stayed behind, waiting for me to gather up my courage. What was strange was that Sariel and Francis were waiting for me, too. I looked over at Sariel, and he quickly averted his gaze. After our strange encounter outside Mr. Lovecraft’s classroom, the archangel had taken up this hobby of following me around unnoticed and popping up out of nowhere when I was alone. His flirting style left a lot to be desired. Not that I was interested.
This was ridiculous. I didn’t want to be last, and I also didn’t want to miss what Mrs. Maat had to tell us about each Circle of Hell. I dragged a deep breat
h in and walked briskly through the dark entrance. The guys followed me, and I soon felt Paz’s hand seek mine. Our fingers entangled, and I felt safe again.
Hell was structured the same as Heaven. If Heaven had Nine Spheres, Hell had Nine Circles. We were going to visit the first three, stop for lunch in the Fourth, then visit the last five. Lamia, Paz’s mother, lived in the Ninth Circle, which was where Satan lived, too. He liked to keep his wives close. We weren’t going to see him, because he didn’t take visitors and he didn’t care that we were the next Grim Reapers, but we were going to see his palace from a distance.
The First Circle was called the Limbo, and it was the home of those souls that weren’t sinful enough to deserve damnation, but neither pure enough to go to Heaven. So, they were going to suffer here a bit, learn a lesson or two, then get reincarnated and see if those lessons had stuck. The only difference between Heaven and Hell was that the souls that got into Heaven could choose how much they wanted to stay there and when they wanted to take another shot at life on Earth. The ones that went to Hell had to first serve the time allotted according to their sins, then they could reincarnate and do better. As far as I was concerned, it all sounded fair.
Limbo was bathed in a dim light that made my eyes struggle to see clearly. As we walked down the narrow streets, looking at the small, old houses and rundown shops, Corri snuggled closer to my neck, hiding under my blue hair.
“I don’t like it here.”
“If you don’t like it here, I don’t want to know about the next circles.”
“Maybe you want to send me away?” She tried, feebly. Since Klaus had told me about the Blank, I hadn’t sent her away once. And I wasn’t going to, no matter what she said.
“You’re scared of Hell, but you’re not scared of the Blank?”
“I know the Blank. It’s sad and bleak, but nothing can hurt me there.”
“Nothing can hurt you here, either. You’re with me.”
She sighed and resigned herself to hiding under my hair.
Though poor and depressed, the souls in Limbo didn’t suffer that much. Their sentences were the shortest, too. Most hung around dingy bars, drinking and smoking with a bunch of demons who were supposed to torture them. Everyone was so demotivated that not a lot of torture happened. So, they just gossiped about this and that, about who Satan was dating, and who he’d left pregnant this month. The real torture began in the Second Circle, which was dedicated to those whose sin was Lust.