by Ramy Vance
Terra tried not to show that she was flattered. "Oh? Where have you heard these rumors?"
"Working with a couple of orcs, pulling jobs. Apparently, you're a sweeping win on their planet."
Terra tried not to betray any emotion, but internally, she was leaping for joy. "Okay, let's start off with the basic shit. What was going on with the mob?"
The cyclops leaned back, crossing his legs. "Real simple shit. Humans are looking to make a buck off of the Dark One's leftover tech and shit, but they can't get to it on account of the lack of magic. Those of us with connections find us some leftovers and bring 'em back. Like I said, real simple."
"Who are you working for?"
"Me? I ain't working for anyone but myself. Just trying to make a buck before all that shit gets shut down."
Terra was surprised by the answer. She'd thought this went deeper than a couple of petty thugs. "You're not working with the Dark One?"
"Uh-uh. Ain't ever met the guy."
"Then how did you get the Dark Melody?"
The cyclops looked at Terra, squinting as if trying to understand what was being said. "What the hell is that?"
"You know, the black goop you were selling."
The cyclops laughed. "Oh, that shit. You know—"
The cyclops stopped talking. He blinked rapidly, then looked at Terra blankly. "What were we talking about?"
"The Dark Melody. The black goop."
"Oh, yeah, you know—"
He broke off again, this time staring straight ahead as if his mind had been turned off.
Terra stood and waved her hand in front of the cyclops' face. He didn't seem to register it. "That’s not good," she mumbled as she got up and left the room, closing the door and locking it behind her. "Did you guys see that?"
Anabelle nodded. "Looks like his memories have been tampered with. He thinks he's not working for anyone, but that might not be true. And whoever messed with his head knows the Dark Melody is important."
"Do you think it could be the Dark One?"
Abby was staring at a holoscreen and she peeked out from behind it. "Let's look at what we know. We only removed the Dark One from the Nine Realms. The Netherverse could connect into other dimensions as well. We ran across some very weird stuff when we were using Tesla's teleportation device."
"Okay, Abby, I don't have a degree in nerd physics. What are you trying to say?"
Abby scowled at Terra. "The Dark One could still be in the Netherverse, manipulating things in his favor until he gets stronger. What better time to invade a reality than when it's in the middle of a species-wide war?"
Terra groaned as she threw her arms in the air. "Well, how are we going to get into his brain? None of us knows magic. Whoa, never mind." She turned to wrap her arms around Cire. "Hey, babe, could you break into that guy's brain for us?"
Cire closed his cloak as he shrugged. "Sure, I'm not doing anything."
The two of them walked back into the cell, and the cyclops looked up. Before he could say anything, Cire raised his hand, and the cyclops flew back and hit the wall.
Terra yelped, "Hey, you don't need to hurt him."
Cire's hand was already pressed against the cyclops' face. "Look into my eyes."
The cyclops stared into Cire's eyes and his body went limp, his large eye rolling back. The air in the room went cold and suddenly warmed back up.
Cire turned, and the cyclops gently floated down to his bed. "He will be fine in a few minutes."
Once they were outside, Anabelle asked, "What did you learn?"
Cire frowned, the lines in his forehead growing more pronounced. "It would seem there is another route into the Netherverse. We must speak to Myrddin immediately."
Chapter Ten
Anabelle, Terra, Abby, and Cire met in Myrddin's office. The elf hadn't seen much of the wizard since Sarah's wedding. Even Roy had hardly heard from the man. Anabelle had been surprised to hear Cire mention meeting with Myrddin so casually.
They'd been sitting in the wizard’s office for nearly half an hour so far. The space was drastically different from the last time Anabelle had met with Myrddin. The bookcases filled with arcane scrolls and books were gone. There was no longer a desk, and many of the artifacts found over the course of thousands of years had been removed. The only remaining relic of the past was Myrddin's conjuring pad, which they had used to make chairs to sit on.
A single Persian rug was placed near a window that overlooked a garden with vividly green grass and a healthy cherry tree.
Terra walked around the room as the rest of the team sat awkwardly in their chairs. "Looks like someone has been spring-cleaning."
Abby nodded as she looked at the bare room. "Yeah. Looks like when our dad decided he needed to update his life. There was a long period of trying out new cars and motorcycles."
Terra glanced at Abby. "Can you have a mid-life crisis when you're over a thousand years old?"
Terra and Abby looked at Anabelle. "What are you asking me for?" the elf asked. "I'm not that old."
Terra shrugged as she continued pacing, trying to find something to catch her attention. "I don't know. I never thought I'd make it to forty. I can't imagine what being that old feels like, especially after being in the Netherverse. Like, fuck, why not experience the afterlife? How do you come back and live a regular life?"
"You don't," said a voice from the doorway.
Myrddin walked into the room. He was thinner than he'd been at the wedding, and his skin had taken on a glossy sheen as if it weren't composed of skin cells but had been molded from light.
Anabelle had seen this in some of the older elves. It was as if their bodies grew tired of continuing, and the only thing keeping them going was the magic flowing through their veins.
The wizard glided past the DGA and sat on the rug near the back of the room. "Unfortunately, the body remembers the trials you put it through. But we don't need to bore ourselves with conversations about me. How are you all getting along?"
Before anyone could speak, Cire stepped forward. "There has been a breach into hell. A serious one."
Anabelle thought she'd heard the wrong thing. Hell wasn't a real place. There was the Netherverse, the place where souls went. They existed in the perpetual dreams of the Old Ones, each soul experiencing an afterlife built from their living expectations.
Myrddin's brow furrowed, but he did not answer immediately. Apparently, he knew what Cire was speaking about.
"How?" Myrddin finally asked.
Before the shaman could reply, Abby interrupted, expressing what Anabelle had been thinking.
Myrddin's eyes looked tired. They were shining lights beneath a dead sea. "There is another part of the Netherverse which we have not talked about. An anomaly, you could say. Few people know about it. Think of it as a backdoor, a very specific one. It should not be accessible to mortals, or at least, it hasn't been for some time."
Anabelle leaned forward. "Wait, what? Why is this way in any more special than the Netherverse Gates?"
"Because it is only shared by three realms. It is difficult to explain without an extensive understanding of arcane metaphysics."
Abby, who seemed the most interested in the conversation, sat up straighter, her eyes zeroing on Myrddin. "How about you try us?"
Myrddin’s eyes flitted from Cire to Abby. "Fine. The Netherverse realm is between the rest of the Nine Realms. Each of them connects to the Netherverse through a nexus, but since the Netherverse is not composed of matter but of psychic energy made tangible, it is capable of morphing into different levels of existence within itself."
Terra leaned her head against her chair back as she reached out to the conjuring pad and got herself a beer.
Myrddin continued, "There are only three realms with a concept of hell. It would be more accurate to say these three realms have a concrete understanding of a place that exists in the Netherverse: orcs, humans, and gnomes. At some point in history, someone from those three races explored hell
, albeit for different reasons. Crude at first, the propagation of the story has created a place that has a tangible existence in the Netherverse and is extremely difficult to get to through conventional means."
Anabelle didn't understand what Myrddin was saying. "So, this place didn't exist, now it does exist, and it only exists because people think it exists?"
Myrddin waved his hand, and the door to the office opened. A book flew through it and into the wizard’s hand. "Dante Alighieri. Beautiful poetry. One of the lesser-known agents seeding the artistic world with tales of the reality we live in. There are gnomish and orcish versions of the same tale, more or less."
Cire nodded. "The orcish version is quite similar. It does not take as much artistic license as the gnomish text."
Abby narrowed her eyes. "So, there's really a hell? How do you get there? I'm assuming it has nothing to do with the typical religious dogma."
Myrddin stood and waved his hand once more, pulling down a holoscreen in the middle of the room.
The holoscreen showed an ancient depiction of Dante's Inferno: the nine circles of hell and their malebolge. "Hell is other people, as Sartre said. The vast majority of souls go to the Netherverse, but those who believe they deserve hell end up in this place. It’s mostly a playground for demons. Some of them are so lost they believe they are the souls of humans. Others are merely playing. And others—what’s the expression? It is better to rule in hell than serve in heaven? Some of the more enterprising demons have formed kingdoms, amassing their own armies for conquest. We've been keeping tabs on it for some time. Typically, there is enough infighting to take care of anything large.
“We rarely have anyone breaking into hell. Usually, demons are trying to get out. But if it is the most viable way into the Netherverse, then it would make sense that it has garnered more attention."
Anabelle thought back to the stories she'd been told as a child, those meant to scare her into good behavior. They were drastically different than those told by humans, but she couldn't help wondering if there was any truth to them. If hell was real, what else was?
Myrddin held his hand to his mouth and coughed. A table appeared at his side, complete with a teapot and mugs. He poured each of his guests a cup. "If there is a backdoor into the Netherverse, we must shut it down, and we need to investigate whether the Dark One is involved with this recent surge in arcane weaponry."
Terra put her hand up palm out to let Myrddin know she was sticking with her beer. "I thought we already took care of him? You said we’d removed him from the Nine Realms. If he's in someone else's universe, that should be their problem, unless we're going to have a universe-hopping adventure. I'm down for either option."
Myrddin blew the steam off his tea. "We were able to remove him from the Nine Realms, but there is still a high possibility that he is in the Netherverse. He’s substantially weakened and perhaps trying to gather forces to do his bidding while he gathers strength. We could kill two birds with one stone."
Anabelle was glad to see Myrddin's time away from his body hadn't dulled his pragmatism. "How do we get into hell?"
His eyes dropped to his cup for a few moments before he answered. "Cire will have to help you. Hell is sealed by a variety of magical defenses. One of the reasons I suspect the Dark One is active is due to the difficulty of coming and going from hell. It requires a wizard of extreme talent and power. The last person to break into hell was a lich. That is how difficult the process is."
Anabelle nodded. “Which brings up a good point. Could this be Rasputina’s doing?”
Myrddin shook his head. “I doubt it. She conquered Death, so her purpose was fulfilled. Turning her attention to the Nine Realms by sowing discontent and supplying criminals with weapons is not something I believe she would do. Still, it is worth bearing in mind that there may be other players besides the Dark One.”
Cire placed his tea back on the table. "I can take a short leave from my council duties to work on this. I'm assuming you have the relevant texts."
Myrddin nodded, tossing Cire a ring. "Yes. You can find them in the archives. There is an entire section dedicated to them in the restricted area. You’ll need that ring to disarm the area’s defenses."
Cire bowed slightly in Myrddin's direction. "I'll begin immediately. The faster we deal with this, the better." He kissed Terra on the forehead and left the room.
Myrddin waved away the tea set, leaving only the cups in the DGA's hands. "I would suggest you prepare for this journey. Hell is not a place to be taken lightly."
"What can we expect?" Abby asked.
"Torture, mostly of the psychological sort."
Terra groaned as she leaned back in her chair, nearly tipping it over. "Ugh. How the hell are we supposed to prepare for that? And don’t you say therapy because I'm already up to my ass in sessions."
"How you choose to prepare is something only you can figure out," Myrddin replied. "If there's nothing else you need, there are other concerns I must attend to."
Anabelle watched Myrddin closely. "We're talking about possibly going up against the Dark One again. What could be more important than that?"
Myrddin, who was already at the door, his body looking more ghostlike than earlier, smiled faintly. His age showed plainly on his face, with thousands of years of worry ingrained into his forehead. "Unfortunately, the Dark One is only one of many problems. Good luck, Angels." And With that, Myrddin left the room.
Abby, Anabelle, and Terra exchanged glances, mystified by Myrddin's cryptic words. "What the hell does that mean?" Terra asked.
Anabelle stood and stretched, thinking that Myrddin could stand to conjure more comfortable chairs in his study. "We'll probably end up roped into whatever the hell Myrddin is talking about. For now, let's take care of the problem in front of us. I guess we should take some time to prepare, however we do that."
The three of them stood watching each other, Anabelle thinking about what she had said, and trying to figure out what the other two would believe was adequate preparation for the journey ahead.
Abby and Terra exchanged glances. "Uh, do you want to hang out before we get started with all of this?" Abby asked.
Terra shook her head, looking down the hall at Cire. "No, I think I know what I need to do to prepare."
Anabelle watched Abby, realizing the kid was trying to figure something out. Abby was going to have to do that for herself. She knew what she had to do to prepare. She lightly punched Abby in the arm and said, "Good luck. Call me if you need anything, but that ‘anything’ has to be pretty damn important, all right?"
Abby nodded, and Anabelle left it at that. She messaged Roy as she walked away.
There was no way she wasn't going to see him before their next big mission.
Roy's legs were draped over Anabelle's. His head was resting on her chest, and she could feel his warm breath on her skin. He had promised he wasn’t going to fall asleep, but she'd known that was going to happen anyway. The rings around his eyes had given him away.
She was left with her worries about what they were going to come across in hell. It wasn't just worrying, though. She felt a strange excitement too.
She was finally going to be challenged.
Thankfully, Myrddin hadn’t prefaced what they were up against with a load of bullshit. He'd been straightforward and to the point. Hopefully, the Dark One wasn't still alive, but now was the perfect chance to find out.
Anabelle rolled over and threw her arm over Roy, breathing him in as they lay there together. There couldn't be a better way to spend this night.
Then her comm pinged.
Anabelle groaned as she reached out and picked it up. It was a message from Abby.
"By the goddesses." Anabelle sighed as she opened the message.
It was brief. Please come over. Now. Please.
Anabelle looked at Roy's sleeping body. It was covered in scars, muscular, and lean, and it breathed with perfect contentedness.
He would understand.
Anabelle arrived at Abby's room as Terra walked around the corner. "She call you too?"
Terra yawned loudly. She was wearing an animal-skin coat made from a beast Anabelle had never seen. Terra had probably killed it with her own hands on the orcish world. "Yeah. I figured Cire's got a lot of work to do anyway. Might as well see what's going on."
Anabelle raised her hand to knock on the door when Martin projected himself from her and Terra's wrist comms. "Oh, thank God you two are here. I've been waiting for you forever."
Anabelle raised an eyebrow. "Is everything okay?"
Martin looked over his shoulder at Abby's room. "Uh, I don't know. I think it's a human thing. I tried to talk to her, but I don't understand what's wrong. The AI consciousness tried too but didn't get anywhere either. Abby didn't message you, I did. I can't figure out what's going on, but I think she needs something I can't regulate."
"Open the door."
The door whizzed open, and Anabelle and Terra stepped through.
Abby was pacing, holding herself tightly before suddenly sitting on the bed, her right leg bouncing up and down as she looked at Anabelle and Terra. "Oh, hi…" She didn't finish her sentence. Her voice cracked as she started shivering and crying, covering her face one second and trying to wipe away her tears the next.
Anabelle froze, uncertain of what to do.
Luckily, Terra was there. She ran over to Abby and tossed her arms around the young woman. Abby burst into heart-wrenching sobs, as if she were trying to cry out her entire soul.
Terra was whispering something into Abby's ear that Anabelle couldn't make out. Suddenly, Abby leaned forward, her head between her legs as she ran her hands through her hair. She started breathing heavily, gasping as if there were no air in the room.
Anabelle understood that. She’d seen and had her fair share of panic attacks. She rushed over to Abby and knelt in front of her. "Abby, you need to breathe. Just breathe in slowly. Breathe slowly."
