The Descent Series Complete Collection

by S. M. Reine

  But it wasn’t as horrifying or as nauseating as it used to be. It felt familiar, in the same way that James’s dance studio was familiar—just another place she had been a thousand times before. Almost like home.

  Nathaniel’s fear radiated behind her, so obviously human, and so very delectable. “Don’t stare,” Elise said under her breath as she strode down the sidewalk. He picked up his pace to draw level with her side.

  “Sorry.” He kept his head ducked, but he still peeked through his bangs. “Are the demons looking at me?”

  She shot a glare at a fiend that focused its watery eyeballs on Nathaniel as it lurched past.

  “No,” she said when it scurried away.

  Nathaniel lowered his voice until even Elise could barely hear it. “Can they understand us?”

  “Some of them.”

  “What are they speaking?”

  Elise pushed him into an alley so that a pickup truck could pass by. “Some of it is the infernal tongue,” she said, keeping him pressed to the wall with a hand in his chest. “I also hear some Latin and Babylonian. But a lot of them speak English. Watch yourself.”

  Nathaniel stared after the truck like he hadn’t heard her. She nudged his chin with a knuckle, and his mouth snapped shut.

  “Sorry,” he said again.

  “And stop apologizing.”

  Elise led him down the street once it was clear again, heading for the shimmering glass towers of the Palace of Dis. “Why don’t we just…” He fluttered his hand through the air, mimicking an airplane.

  “They’re used to creatures that can phase, so it’s going to be protected with strong wards,” Elise said. “Do you want to phase again?”

  “No. It feels like suffocating.”

  “Then we’ll walk.”

  Elise spotted a meat market ahead and steered Nathaniel to the next street before he could see anything. The meat market looked like any other butcher’s shop; it was impossible to tell the difference between a skinned rack of human ribs and ordinary pork. But not all of the meat had been dressed yet. Elise had glimpsed at least two recognizably human heads with gaping, empty eye sockets.

  Rats darted around her ankles as she strode along the street. She kicked them away.

  Just a few more blocks until the Palace.

  “It might be hard to get inside the walls,” she said softly. “There will be guards. Magic. Trouble. So if I tell you to do something, don’t question me. Okay?”

  “Okay,” he whispered back. “What’s the plan?”

  Elise didn’t have one. “I’ll tell you when we get there.”

  A kibbeth drifted overhead, momentarily blotting out the glow of the fires. Elise kept her head down. Did it belong to the rebellion? Would they try to seize her?

  It drifted on.

  They reached the walls without being attacked. Elise stretched out her senses, probing for wards.

  She didn’t feel anything.

  Elise examined the glossy black stones with a critical eye. That couldn’t be right. There was no way that the Palace would be unprotected.

  “What’s wrong?” Nathaniel asked as she stepped into the shadow of a statue in the courtyard. It was a gray behemoth with the wings of a bat and magma fountaining from its palms.

  She nodded toward the walls. “What do you feel? Do you detect any wards?”

  He reached into his pocket and slipped his Book of Shadows out. “Is it okay if I cast a spell?”

  Elise glanced around. The courtyard was empty, aside from a few guards in leather that were marching in the opposite direction. The rebellion had everyone drawn to another part of the city. “Be quick about it.”

  He ripped out a page and whispered a word. Magic blossomed around her, strange and distorted in the Hell’s heat.

  “There are wards,” he said, eyes blank as he stared at nothing. “But they’re broken. There’s a hole in the wall on the other side, so whatever punched through must have destroyed everything they had.” Nathaniel blinked rapidly and shook his head. “There’s a witch working on restoring it right now.”

  So they didn’t have much time. Elise waited until he tucked the notebook into his pocket again, and then took his hand.

  “This won’t feel good,” she said.

  Nathaniel paled, but he nodded.

  Elise phased.

  She still wasn’t used to the sensation of letting herself melt into shadow, but it was easier in Hell than it had been on Earth. It took almost no thought to wrap Nathaniel tightly in the depths of her body and launch over the wall.

  It felt like everything moved in slow motion as she looked over the other side. Elise recognized the gardens from the Union’s diagrams and the layout of the towers. Plenty of demons and humans alike were pacing the grounds, talking amongst themselves in vo-ani and English, and their chatter drifted through her.

  “…never had a prisoner escape…”

  “Think we’re safe?”

  “Are you kidding? We’re in Hell. Of course we’re not safe.”

  Elise focused on a dark corner behind the west tower. She dropped Nathaniel and resubstantiated.

  He staggered, throwing out a hand as he sucked in a hard gasp. Elise grabbed his arm to keep him from falling.

  “You okay?” she asked as soon as she had a proper mouth again.

  Dry coughs wracked Nathaniel’s chest, but he nodded.

  Elise gestured for him to stay while she peeked around the corner of the tower. The collection of people talking among the flesh gardens was strange—some nightmares, a succubus, a few humans. They all looked more normal than the citizenry of Dis, like anyone Elise might have seen on Earth. But most humans would have been a lot more bothered by the disembodied hands jutting out of the soil.

  She stepped back to Nathaniel. He was still catching his breath.

  “That hurt,” he whispered. “I don’t like that phasing thing.”

  She slapped him on the back. “Stand up straight. Look casual.”

  “How?”

  There was a reason Elise had tried to avoid teaching the children’s classes at James’s dance studio. “I don’t know. Just…think casual thoughts.”

  She peered around the corner again. More of those guards in leather were encouraging the crowds to disperse. Elise recognized a familiar face—a lean female nightmare with sharp features. The last time Elise had seen her, Veronika had been escorting the greatest kopis at the semi-centennial summit. Now it looked like she was working with Palace security.

  At Veronika’s direction, everyone left, leaving only security behind. And it was then that Elise realized that she recognized one more person.

  He had short red hair, a goatee, and scarred hands. Judging by the badge on his chest, he ranked higher than the rest of security. And he carried himself with the confidence of a man who had never lost a fight—probably because he never had.

  Isaac Kavanagh. Her father.

  Elise gripped the wall for balance. She had known that her parents were both probably still hanging around Hell, but it hadn’t occurred to her that she might run into them. She hadn’t had time to consider the possibility.

  She barely breathed as he gestured Veronika to his side. Together, they walked into the shadow of a tower where nobody would be able to hear them. Elise crept closer to hear their conversation, crouching behind a half-wall so she could hear without being seen.

  “Something strange happened earlier today,” Veronika said. “The Union transmission channel opened between the usual hours, but whatever they were sending got intercepted.”

  “Did you see where it was taken?” Isaac asked. His voice was deep, unemotional.

  “One of the desert shrines, but there was nothing there when I checked it out. It makes me think that the rebellion is trying to snatch interdimensional traffic. This might sound like a leap in logic, sir, but there are a lot of touchstones arriving from topside, so maybe the rebellion was hoping to get one. And if the rebels are going after touchstones, th
en I think it’s safe to assume that Sohigian…”

  “Are any touchstones missing?”

  “No,” Veronika said, sounding impatient. “But the rebellion—”

  “They aren’t my concern. What of James Faulkner? Any sign?”

  Elise’s heart skipped a beat. Nathaniel had joined her behind the wall, and his round face was pale. He opened his mouth. She shook her head to keep him silent.

  “Not since he shattered the wall and disappeared into the city. We’re still looking for him,” Veronika said.

  So he had escaped. Elise glanced back at the hole in the wall and felt the warmth of pride. She could only imagine what James must have done to rip a hole through the Palace wards—it must have been very loud and very bloody. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

  “Redouble our search and prepare a team. I’m going out to search myself. I want that bastard back in my hands,” Isaac said, and Elise’s smile immediately disappeared.

  She grabbed Nathaniel’s arm and slipped away from Isaac and Veronika before she could hear anything else.

  Her father was out to get James. She wanted to be surprised, but she couldn’t seem to work up the emotion.

  “So James is in the city?” Nathaniel asked once they were a safe distance from Isaac. “How do we find him?”

  “The same way you find anything else: you search,” Elise said.

  She turned the corner, preparing to phase Nathaniel over the wall again.

  And she came face-to-face with her mother.

  10

  Ariane Kavanagh hadn’t aged a day since the last time Elise had spoken to her. Her hair was still chestnut brown, and she didn’t have a single new wrinkle. She could have passed for the same age that Elise had been when she died. “The courtyard is meant to be off-limits until I finish restoring the wards. What are you doing here?”

  Elise’s mouth worked silently.

  Her mother’s head was a buzz of white noise with the volume turned low, but she showed no indication of recognizing her own daughter. Not after fifteen years of aging, a rebirth, and new clothing.

  Elise couldn’t feel her hands. Couldn’t think. Could barely breathe.

  “We’re just looking around,” Nathaniel said finally when Elise was silent for too long.

  Worry darkened Ariane’s eyes. “You are a human boy.”

  “I’m visiting.”

  “I wasn’t told of any children visiting,” Ariane said. “Children don’t visit the Palace.”

  His brain sparked as he searched for a lie. “Uh…”

  “I’m searching for Hannah Pritchard,” Elise said suddenly.

  Ariane paled. She glanced around the corner where Elise had last seen Isaac. “Where did you hear that name?”

  “She was recently brought to Hell. I think she should be in the Palace,” Elise said, speaking a little too quickly, her words a jumble.

  The witch picked up a collection of bottles she had set on the ground, tucked them in her bodice, and pushed her hair out of her face. “We can’t talk here.”

  She waved her wrist over the nearby tower door and led them inside. Nathaniel stayed glued to Elise’s side as they navigated dark, narrow corridors. “Hannah—” Elise began again.

  Ariane cut her off. “Wait.”

  When the elevator stopped on the ninth floor, she opened the cage and strode ahead.

  Nathaniel hung back with Elise. “Who is that?”

  “That’s my mother.” She clenched her jaw. “She doesn’t know who I am.”

  They followed her to private quarters in a hallway on the east side of the tower. The rooms were large, but modest, and Elise recognized the battle-axes mounted on the wall as her father’s. He had almost cut off one of her fingers when he’d trained her to use them at eight years old. The axes were the only way that her parents had personalized the sitting room—that, and the family photo in a wooden frame on the table by the door.

  Elise studied it as Ariane shut the door behind them. Her father was young and handsome. Ariane, mostly unchanged, had her arm around the shoulders of a little girl with auburn hair, freckled skin, and a big smile.

  Ariane flitted around the room, flicking her fingers at totems on each wall. Magic flashed in the corners of Elise’s vision and a cool mist washed down her arms. Nathaniel watched the wards fall into place with great interest.

  “Who are you?” Ariane asked as soon as she was done. “How do you know Hannah?”

  “She’s my mom,” Nathaniel said.

  Even through the buzz of Ariane’s protected mind, the flare of shock was impossible to miss. “Mon dieu .”

  “I’ve brought Nathaniel to Hell so that we can get her back,” Elise said. “We need to find her as soon as possible. If you deal with all of the humans in Hell…”

  “Let’s speak privately,” she told Elise.

  Her mother led her into the next room—a kitchen—while Nathaniel continued to wander around the foyer to examine Ariane’s totems.

  There were a lot of normal human supplies in the kitchen: a block of knives that Elise thought had probably been ordered off of the Home Shopping Network, nonstick skillets hanging on the wall, a basket of plastic measuring cups. But there was no toaster, no coffee machine, no refrigerator. Nothing that required electricity.

  Ariane stopped in the middle of the floor, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “What’s your name?” she asked.

  “Betty,” Elise said. “My name is Betty.”

  Her mother tipped her head to the side. “Betty?” It was an awfully cute name for a demon. But Elise set her jaw and met her mother’s gaze. “You’re a fool for bringing Hannah’s son to Hell, Betty, no matter how pure your motivation. This is no place for normal adults, much less a child.”

  Elise’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, really?”

  “And the boy is wearing fiend leather. Hardly appropriate.” Ariane puffed air through her lips. “I didn’t know Hannah had a son. The father—where is he?”

  Elise’s responding silence was enough of an answer for Ariane. The buzz of white noise in her head increased in intensity, and then she answered her own question.

  “James.” She took a deep breath and straightened her spine, like she was gathering her strength. “I can tell you where Hannah is, but I can’t let you take Nathaniel to her. I’ll watch him here.” She faced the counter and began writing on a piece of paper. “There is a demon named Abraxas who is serving as judge for the Council. Though he has rooms in the Palace, he also keeps a property in the mountain district. Matters of the household are attended to by mortal slaves. Hannah is among them.”

  Elise took the paper. It was a rudimentary map of the city of Dis, with the Palace marked on one side of the page, and a box on the other labeled “The House of Abraxas.” A word was written at the top of the paper as well: “Belphegor.”

  “What’s Belphegor?” Elise asked.

  “That’s the name of Abraxas’s steward. Watch for him—he will kill you and Hannah and every other slave if he feels it’s necessary to protect Abraxas’s interests.” Ariane peered around the corner of the kitchen door. Nathaniel was probing one of the animal skull totems with his fingertip.

  “I could be killed for sharing this information.”

  “Then why did you tell me?” Elise asked.

  “I didn’t know that Hannah and James had a son,” she said simply. “Be swift. Be watchful. Be safe.”

  Elise remembered Ariane telling her father the same thing: to be swift, watchful, and safe. There was power in the wish, traces of magic that Elise had never been able to see before. She had never realized that her mother was blessing her father every time he went out to hunt.

  “Thank you,” Elise said, and she meant it. It was the most meaningful conversation she had shared with her mother in over fifteen years. Maybe in her entire life.

  Ariane didn’t respond except to open the door.

  Elise moved for the exit. When Nathaniel tried to fol
low, Ariane grabbed his shoulder. “You’re staying here with me,” she said in a falsely upbeat voice. “Don’t worry. Betty will be back soon.”

  Nathaniel looked so shocked by the idea of getting left behind that he didn’t even react to the fake name. “Where are you going?”

  There was no point in lying. He was a child, not an idiot. “Hannah’s being kept in the House of Abraxas. I’m going to get her back. It’ll be faster if you stay here.”

  “Abraxas,” Nathaniel echoed.

  “Yeah. Big, bad demon. Don’t worry about it; I’ve killed worse.”

  He grabbed Elise’s hand, and his desperation swelled, crashing over her and making her skin rise in goosebumps. “But I need to come with you. I can help.”

  She tugged free of his grip. Elise was prepared to tell him the truth—that he was just a child, useless in a fight, and a huge liability. But as Nathaniel’s thoughts fuzzed in and out of her head, she picked up a few images. He was imagining his mother in peril. Being helpless to save her. Elise had never had the luxury of worrying about her parents like that.

  So instead of telling him that he was useless, Elise stooped a few inches so that their faces were level. “You’re too important to risk. I promise that I will bring your mother back to you. Do you trust me?”

  Nathaniel hung his head, but he nodded.

  “I trust you.”

  “Good,” she said. She squeezed his shoulders. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  Elise opened the door and phased into shadow.

  As soon as the door closed, Nathaniel faced Ariane. “I’m hungry,” he said. “And thirsty.”

  She gave him a kind smile and ruffled his hair. “They’ll start serving dinner in a few hours. I’ll be happy to bring you something.”

  “But I’m hungry now. I’ve been running around Hell for a while, and there’s nothing to eat.”

  Ariane’s mouth drew downward in a frown. “I don’t have anything here.”