by Alcy Leyva
****
The pace we were traveling turned into a hurried one. There was still a barren wasteland and still a freakish sun, but the crones moved diligently. Still in single file, but now at a faster pace than before.
Ever so often, we would see a stranger walking toward us. The figure would be a skeleton dressed in ragged clothing, carrying a slab on their back that I quickly recognized was a tombstone. Most would pass us without acknowledging we were there, but there were a few times these strangers dropped to their knees and began to dig with their bony hands. After setting their tombstones, they would climb into the hole and drag the dirt over them. Sometimes, rather than going in, we would come across a grave freshly made and watch as a stranger pulled themselves out.
“What are they doing?” I asked of one of the crow crones.
“The souls here cannot cease looking for their end,” one told me. “This is the Sixth Circle: the body of unrest. Here, souls who were fascinated with their own deaths come to suffer. Here, those who have committed heresy cannot rest until they find their specific resting place and bury themselves. Only one grave, only one soul. If eternity it takes to find rest, then eternity it will take.”
“One section?” I looked around. This Circle seemed even larger than Abaddon. At least there were things to look at while I was there. I cast away the thought of these lost souls and asked a question I should have asked from the beginning.
“Hey! Did any of you see anyone where you found me? A man, a demon, an angel, and a liar were all riding a boat—”
“I hate jokes like that,” one crone sneered.
“I know that one. They were all dead in the end,” insisted another.
I sighed and dropped the subject. I wasn’t sure what could have happened to my friends and hated thinking about the worst. Could they have gone to the city without me?
“You are headed to Pandemonium?” I asked.
“That’s what I said,” the crone squawked.
“Why? What’s there?”
The crone held up her basket. “We’re building a wall.”
I nodded. “What’s the new wall supposed to do?”
“No one said anything about a ‘new’ wall,” the crone ahead of her replied. “The wall we’re building is there. Has always been there.”
“So you’re rebuilding? I’m confused.”
“Of course you are. You’re still talking,” crone number one shouted back at us. “Look, the wall we are building is there and belongs there so we are making it there so it can stay there and always be there.”
“Got it,” I said, lying. “Pandaemonium. I kinda need to get through it. Do you know anything about the place that can help?”
“The city of Pandaemonium was not its original name, just like the city of New Necropolis is not its name either.”
“People have forgotten it. They forget everything.”
“The two cities were called The City of Dis and the City of Dae.”
“The Old Gods created them to be what was known as ‘Pendulum Cities’ because they are the balance on which Hell is built on. All manner of beasts and demons wait for you there. They are mirrors of each other.”
I literally tripped over myself. “The Old Gods created them? Do you know anything about the Old Gods?”
“Everyone knows the Old Gods, though I’m sure they get talked about less and less up in the higher Circles,” crone number two declared. “But that’s how hearsay goes. Things happen last year, it’s history. Things happen last century, it’s myth.”
There was something decidedly odd about the way the crones spoke. I had originally pegged them as your average weirdo-denizens of Hell, but there were times they slipped into an area that made me question who I had been traveling with the whole time. How innocent were these things, really?
Feeling like I would lose nothing by pushing my luck, I threw them a comment to see how they would react. “All I know about the Old Gods is they served as architects here in Hell.”
One of the crones puffed her feathers. “Heh. Old Gods? Served? They served nothing but themselves. From the moment the Dark Lord held dominion here, they were dying to exact their own powers. Their arrogance. Their dark hearts.”
“Stupid creatures with stupid mouths,” one crone waxed. “They were his generals during his war with God, but they all became arrogant. They wanted a war here in Hell to decide who rules. They secretly planned to overthrow the ruler. That’s why the Dark Lord created the only thing that could keep them in check.”
I scratched my head. “He created something that could beat the Old Gods?”
“Of course he did. See at first, there was the Beast.”
“Vicious creature. Seven heads. Really bad smell.”
“Awful smell,” crone three agreed. “But the Dark Lord had another idea.”
“He did. Another plan to keep the Old Gods in check,” crone one chuckled.
“Yes. With his bare hands, he tore the seven-headed beast into seven dragons...”
“...and gave them dominion over the first Seven Circles of Hell.”
“Seven dragons?” Remembering the dying Fury’s words, I had to ask, “What happened to the dragons? Are they still around?”
At first, the crones didn’t seem like they were going to answer and I thought I had overstepped my questions, when one finally spoke, enunciating carefully so I could hear the capitalization in her words. “The Dark Lord vanished shortly after creating the Dragons. And so there was a war—a war between the Old Gods and the Dragons for rights to Hell itself.”
“And who won?”
“The Old Gods found a way. If they couldn’t kill the Dragons, and they couldn’t beat the Dragons, then they would get rid of them. So, using one of their powers of transformation, they banished the Dragons into the world of the living. They stripped them of their memories and powers, and in the world of Man, the Dragons found themselves transformed into—”
“Crows,” I finished as the answer hit me like a brick. It couldn’t be a coincidence. It wasn’t. The Shades I had fought off on Earth were actually the Seven Dragons of Hell. That’s the connection: Shades, Wardens, and the Dragons were the same thing. While it made sense, I could feel something was missing. “But weren’t the Shades connected to the end of the world prophecy? The last chapter stuff?”
The crone next to me shook her head. “Just because the world ends doesn’t mean the story does,” she snickered. “The Dark Lord’s disappearance and his return now, the movement of the Old Gods, the return of the Dragons. There have even been whispers of Heaven being turned inside out.” The crone held up one clawed finger and added, “This could mean the end of everything, the end for us all. But then what?”
“We’ve arrived,” announced the crone furthest from me. We hadn’t taken many steps in any direction, but sure enough, piercing the horizon was a castle appearing like a black shard sprouting from the ground. As we walked toward this object, more of it came into view. The fortress sported four gnarled towers, each one rising from the sharp edges of vine-covered walls like the writhing legs of an overturned insect. When we arrived, an immense metal gate greeted us. It must have stood fifty to seventy feet high and its bars were made of rusted metal thicker than my body.
The crones led me to one of the walls just to the right of the gate. Then, one by one, they dumped the contents of their baskets at its base. The rocks clattered to the ground and, seeing their job done, the three crow crones turned around and started walking back in the direction we had come.
I dashed in front of them. “Wait! Stop! Nope! We walked all the way here. It’s been miles.”
“Maybe,” responded one crone.
“Days?” I asked.
“Eh,” answered another.
“Fine. It’s been a really freakin’ long time and we’ve spent it walking. Endlessl
y. And now you just want to throw your stupid little stones down and walk back? For what?”
“To get more stones,” the trio replied in unison. I’d never been given a “Duh! What the fuck is wrong with you” look from a bird, but I definitely got one now. I felt like an idiot as they started walking away.
I heard a sound that I first thought was thunder. The vibrations rattled beneath our feet and rolled along the plains. A pattern expanded on the initial boom, and I traced the sound not into the sky, but behind the walls of the castle. Drums. Loud, pounding drums.
After the echoes finally died away, two figures stepped out onto the edge of the wall.
The shortest Fury pointed down at me and hollered, “Welcome, Amanda Grey. I knew you’d show up here, eventually.”
The Furies were still wearing the heavy black coat with the high collar, so one had to stoop to take a closer look at my travel companions. “Still carrying those stones, eh? Our building days are over, Morrigan.”
Beside me, the three crow crones started to vibrate as they shuttered together into one body. When the feathers settled, she called back to the Fury. “Meg. Alec. I want to say it’s been a few centuries since we last spoke, but that would imply I missed you in some kind of way.”
The whole conversation floored me. The crones—no, crone—was an Old God?
“Grey belongs to us,” the taller Fury demanded. “Are you going to object?”
“I’m only here to drop off my stones to fix that wall,” Morrigan said, pointing to the wall that obviously didn’t need fixing.
The Fury gestured to a servant I couldn’t see and they both retreated. Shortly after, there was a large creak, followed by a grinding of gears as the gates leading to the City of Dis slowly began to rise.
“You were one of them this entire time,” I called over to Morrigan.
She leaned in close and blinked her black eyes at me. “We are what we are, Grey. The question is, what will you be when you enter the City of Dis? What will you be when you leave?”
She turned and made to leave.
“You were the one who changed the Dragons into crows, weren’t you?” I asked.
Her clawed hand made a swirl in the air and returned to her side as she vanished.
As the gate reached its highest position and locked into place, I knew I had a serious fight on my hands. Watching the two Furies step out of the colossal opening to meet me, I had no plan to stop them from tearing me to pieces. Four of me could fit inside the broadest one’s coat and the tall one stood at least fifteen feet tall. Of course, there was also the fact that I was a Dragon— the mortal enemy of the Old Gods—and that I had incinerated one of their sisters (which, I felt, was frowned upon in most social circles).
Preparing myself for a fight, the Furies stared me down.
Then each took a knee.
Bowing her head, the shortest Fury told me,
“Welcome to your kingdom, Lady Grey.”
CHAPTER 23
The walk into the city was a dizzying one. Beyond the gates, the world was entirely different. The black sun could not be seen in the sky, which was then replaced by dark clouds that moved and curled about in a bright red soup. Ash constantly fell from above, making the air particularly uncomfortable to wade through. I couldn’t breathe the way I did when I was alive, but the aura here was definitely smothering my chest and lips.
Around us, workers climbed up and down through the many levels of the outlying castle. These workers were all dark marionettes, like the servants in Olive Garden—like Petty once was. Seeing them and thinking about my little sister as one of these creatures forced me to keep my discomfort in check, especially in front of my escort.
The Furies said nothing as we moved through room after room. In every space, I got the sense I was centuries late to a party. The wooden tables were falling to dust; the walls were crumbling or non-existent. There were a few art pieces strung about, but the canvases were ripped or eaten through. I felt as if I was walking through the ruin of a civilization a few hundred lifetimes after its ruin.
“Where are you taking me?” I did my best to sound in charge, but I got the sense I needed to tread carefully. The tall one was still the freakier one of the two as her coat moved and jostled around from time to time and I heard the whispers of small voices. The broader one moved with lumbering steps, but I felt she could turn on me in an instant.
As we walked through a room with a high, arching ceiling and seven pillars of broken marble, I couldn’t help feel overwhelmed by how desolate and empty this Circle of Hell was. The room’s black floor tiles were missing and even more broken furniture was strewn about. The only thing that looked even remotely worth seeing was a tapestry hanging by the back wall.
As if on a hideous tour, the tall Fury called back to me, “This is the Old City—the remnants of what Hell used to be. Back when it was all ‘brimstone and pitchforks.’ We’re escorting you, Lady Grey, to where you will rule.”
I laughed nervously. “’Lady Grey.’ Why do you keep calling me that?”
As we walked by it, I couldn’t help but pause at the tapestry. It must have been ten feet long in every direction and made of red satin. Its edges were tattered and uneven which made the entire cloth look ancient. There were figures woven in poses surrounding a black throne— beasts from every nightmare that you can imagine: Medusa, giants, Cyclopes, massive spiders, hellhounds, floating eyeballs, a muscular unicorn in a leotard. Mixed in were versions of the Furies. Even Hel and Fenrir were painted into the bottom right corner.
A horned demon with fiery eyes sat on the throne and above its head, a dragon with seven heads spouting fire stood between it and the other creatures.
“What is this?”
“A prophecy, spun before the start of Time itself,” the Fury responded. “This is the oldest relic of Lower Hell. The first dark testament that can be remembered.”
I found myself staring at the Beast, taking note of the smoke billowing from its nostrils and the seven crowns on its seven heads.
While I was distracted, the shorter Fury drew a small dagger and, in one blinding movement, slashed me across the shoulder.
Grabbing the wound, I dropped back and prepared for the next attack. But it never came.
The Fury set the weapon back on her belt and covered herself again.
A steady heat rose from beneath the gaps in my fingers as the pain spread from my shoulder to my chest. Instead of blood, pouring out of the slash on my shoulder were large blades of black fire. From this, I found my entire body became encased in dark flames.
When the hideous gash on my shoulder closed itself, and the pain in my body disappeared, a gown—another damned dress!—of black fire spread around me, one with long, draping sleeves and a hood that covered my head. Seven fiery tails sprouted from the hood and lashed against the ground behind me. Instead of burning my skin, I felt power rising within me. I couldn’t control it, but I didn’t need to.
“What did you do to me?” I cried, looking down at this flaming garb.
“You are home, Lady Grey,” the tall Fury laughed. “This is what the power of a Dragon can do. But not just any Dragon. Before you test your power, I suggest being careful not to—”
Whatever advice she was trying to give me, I didn’t exactly wait for it to land before I gave my fingers a snap. With the size and velocity of a cannonball, a flaming white sphere flew from my hand and into the tapestry itself, lighting the entire cloth up like kindling.
I immediately started apologizing. “Sorry, I—”
The tapestry fell into ash, revealing I had fired a hole into the wall behind it as well.
“That’s on me!”
In the distance, another wall exploded.
“That one, too.”
And the next.
“Oh, c’mon!”
When the loud cra
shes finally subsided, and the dust had settled, we were all able to look through the hole and follow a clear path of destruction right until the outer wall. The blast had annihilated the entire south side of the castle, leaving behind a giant cloud of burning debris open to the vast wasteland
The two Furies silently looked at each other and then back at me.
“Right, well.” I cleared my throat. “Lead on!”
As we left this room, I seemed to be the only one to notice that just beyond the smoldering rubble, which used to be the castle’s outer wall, sat Morrigan’s stones piled neatly as could be.
****
Next, we arrived in a circular room with a round platform at its center. Unlike the others, this chamber was expertly made with gold carvings and white walls. The high arches of this space reminded me of a church, which creeped me out completely.
Both Furies boarded the platform and I followed their lead. A marionette came and pulled a lever on the side of the wall, causing the platform to come to life with a sputter. We began to descend.
There was a brief moment of darkness, broken up the soft pops and crackles coming off of my robe.
Standing so close to the Furies, I figured if I really needed to, I could let out one big blast that could take us all out on this platform. I felt one of them open her coat and draw her limb out of the sleeve and, remembering her last attack on me, I jumped back instantly. The Fury pointed a clawed finger at the City in front of us.
“Welcome to Pandemonium, Lady Grey.”
Pandemonium, or what Morrigan said was once called the City of Dis, was exactly like New Necro, only it was a metropolis growing upside-down out of the ceiling instead. In fact, at one point, the elevator we rode in flipped on a set axis, spinning us upside-down, or right-side-up according to how Dis was positioned. Though this made me feel dizzy at first, I quickly acclimated to the new perspective.
The City was really as the old crow crone had said: Dis and Dae were pendulum cities and mirrors of each other. It was still a civilization built into the darkness of a cave, just like its sister city. There were skyscrapers and buildings, red lights forming a single line of traffic up the main streets, smaller buildings hiding out on the outskirts of the town like scattered crumbs. There was even a black skyscraper jutting up from the center, just like in New Necro.
