by Linsey Hall
I wanted to ask for more detail, but we were already stepping out into the courtyard. Immediately, my gaze was drawn to the stone circle. It tugged hard at me, as if I needed to visit it. Immediately.
“Can you guys give me five minutes?” I asked. “I need to check something.”
Lachlan looked at me quizzically but nodded. I needed no more encouragement. We couldn’t spare much time—not with the Fates possibly there already, hunting for the stone—but I needed to check something.
I sprinted for the stone circle, the cool winter wind pulling at my hair. I pulled the gray jacket tighter around me, and it warmed me much more than a normal jacket.
The stone circle tugged harder at me the closer I got, the magic pulling me toward it. I stepped through the tall stones without hesitation.
Magic flared in the center of the circle, bright and fierce. When it faded, I saw Sulis, the goddess of light who had been my de facto guide through this transformation.
Her serene gaze met mine. “You are changing.”
“I am. Maybe.” The words spilled out of me. I explained about the dream with the crow, and my lesson about changing fate.
Sulis nodded as if she weren’t surprised. She opened her mouth to speak, but my mother appeared in the circle. Sulis glared at her.
“Mom!” I ran to her and hugged her. “Why are you here?”
She smiled, and her face was so wonderfully familiar that I grinned back. “I can feel when you enter the circle. I will always come.”
“If you do not mind?” Sulis’s voice was cutting. “I brought Ana here to tell her something important.”
I pulled back from my mother, giving her arms one last squeeze, then looked at Sulis. “What do you know about my transformation?”
“You will inherit the powers of the Morrigan, but you must use them wisely.”
“What’s the Morrigan?”
“The Morrigan is a Celtic goddess of fate and war. She is the Battle Crow and is often represented as three, but you are one.”
The Battle Crow. That made sense with my dream, and with my ability to change fate for the seal woman. And it also sounded really damned cool.
“Is that how I changed fate for the seal woman?”
“It is, though the Elders of the Indomidae helped you there. To change fate again, you must fully transform into a full Dragon God. When you do this, you will have the Morrigan’s full powers. It will be the greatest and most important transition of your life.”
Okay, no pressure. “How do I make that happen?”
“That is for you to find out. But you must embrace it. Do not fight it.” Her gaze flicked to outside of the circle. “And do not dawdle. Time is of the essence.”
“Thank you.” I looked from her to my mother. After years without her, I would never be anything but happy to see her, even if she interrupted important meetings with gods. “I’ll see you soon.”
With that, I ran out of the circle, back to Lachlan and the cats.
“What was that about?” he asked.
I slowed, panting. “I’ll get the powers of the Morrigan. Sulis just told me.”
His brows rose. “Impressive. She’s very strong.”
“Good. I want to be strong. I need to be.”
Especially where we’re going. Muffin flicked his tail. There is no time to waste. Tell your Boy Toy to take us to the peak of Mount Vesuvius on the western side.
I glared at him but didn’t tell him off for the Boy Toy comment since I didn’t want to say the words in front of Lachlan. I turned to Lachlan instead. “Could you transport us to the western side of the peak of Mount Vesuvius? The entrance to Dante’s hell is there, according to Muffin.”
“I’m sure I’m not going to like this.” He grinned.
I smiled back. He was probably right.
Lachlan’s magic swelled as he created the portal, and the five of us stepped through. The ether sucked me in and spat me out on the other side of Europe.
Blisteringly cold wind whipped across my face as we stood amongst a cluster of volcanic rock.
Well done. Muffin paced around, inspecting our surroundings. We’re right near the portal, far from where the tourists visit.
I looked at Lachlan. “He said you took us to the right place.”
This way. Muffin stalked off between the cluster of rocks, and the four of us followed. Bojangles and Princess Snowflake III took the lead, a pep in their step. They were clearly excited to get back to hell.
Weird cats.
It didn’t take long to find the right cluster of rocks. Dark magic spilled from the mouth of a gaping black hole that disappeared into infinity deep in the mountain. It was only about six feet wide, but it looked like it went on forever.
I shuddered at the horrible feeling on my skin. It felt like a thousand nails were being hammered into my body all at once, and tears pricked my eyes. “This is awful.”
It’s how you know you’re in the right place. Muffin stood at the edge of the gaping black hole and looked down, his whiskers ruffling in the wind. Now, we jump.
I’d been afraid he’d say that.
The little cat didn’t even hesitate. Just took a flying leap into the blackness. Bojangles and Princess Snowflake III followed, their delighted meows disappearing into the darkness.
I looked at Lachlan. “See you on the other side.”
I jumped into hell.
9
The portal spat us out into the middle of a violent dust storm. Princess Snowflake III bowed her head as if she were used to the misery. Bojangles huddled up close to the fluffy white cat and stuck his face into her fur.
Come on! Muffin shouted. We need to find my friends. They’ll take us to the shortcut to the next level.
I squinted my eyes against the blowing sand and followed Muffin. His little wings carried him above the ground as he led us towards a shadow in the distance. Lachlan wrapped an arm around me, and I huddled against his side. My jacket kept the worst of the stinging sand off of my skin, but anywhere that it hit my face or hands was awful.
We are almost there! Muffin bowed his head and flew onward.
The sand got into every crevice of my clothes, and my boots sank into it up to the ankles.
After trudging onward for a few minutes, I realized that we were approaching an enormous tent. It looked as if it were made of the hides of huge animals and sewn together with rough rope. A dim yellow light illuminated this world.
"Who lives in there?” I shouted, getting a mouthful of sand.
Muffin turned back, his green eyes glinting in the dim light. The only people who will help us in this hellscape.
“Thank fates for Muffin,” I said. “We’d be screwed without a guide.”
Princess Snowflake III hissed so loudly that I could hear it over the howling wind.
I looked down at her. "And you, too! And Bojangles.”
Wouldn’t want to hurt any of the cats’ feelings. Not only did I like them, we needed them. I had no idea where to go in this realm.
We approached the tent, and the hides at the base whipped in the wind. Muffin found an opening in the side of the tent and slipped through, his little wings dragging against the leather. We followed him, stepping into a dimly lit interior that was full of people bustling about.
I squinted, letting my eyes adjust to the darkness. The ceiling was studded with glowing blue stones that shed an eerie light on the scene within. It looked just like a tiny village, shielded against the elements from outside.
Muffin flew through the crowd, heading unerringly toward the other side. Princess Snowflake III and Bojangles followed, skirting around the feet and legs of people who went about their business, chatting and bartering and heading wherever they were heading. Almost everyone was dressed in the same type of leather that made up the exterior of the tent. Some of them looked at us but said nothing. I couldn't tell if it was wariness or disinterest that kept them silent, but I didn't ask. Muffin was the boss here, and it was our job
to follow along.
He led us to the far edge of the tent, where a figure was sitting on a rickety old chair, observing the hustle and bustle in the interior of the tent.
The man looked up as Muffin neared, his brown eyes widening. “Cat Sìth! You have wings now!”
An upgrade. Muffin fluttered up to the man and butted his head against his arm. It was the friendliest greeting that Muffin could make, so he must know this man well. How are you, Aurius?
“As well as can be, Cat Sìth. Why are you here?”
We need a ride to the shortcut that leads to level four.
The man grinned widely, revealing a mouth that was missing at least half his teeth. "You're in luck! We have a caravan going out in ten minutes." The man turned to look at Lachlan and me. “Who are your friends?"
Members of the Protectorate, and people on a mission. We need to get to the bottom of Hell as fast as possible.
The man grimaced. "I don't envy you that." He gestured for us to sit. "Join us. Can I offer you any refreshment? We have the finest swamp water and the tastiest dirt biscuits."
I grimaced and wondered if I should laugh at the joke. But it didn't actually seem like a joke. This was Hell after all. I took a seat on one of the low stools, Lachlan joining me.
“Thank you, but no,” Lachlan said. “We have recently eaten.”
The man leaned forward, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "First time in hell?"
"First time in this hell." I grinned. "It's not the worst one I've ever seen."
“That it is not. We are not so bad here. This is only level two. Most of us were jerks in life, so we ended up here. It's miserable, but it's not the worst. We've managed to make a pretty decent life."
“The same cannot be said of the lower levels?” Lachlan asked.
"Indeed not." The man laughed, a rusty sound.
“Have you seen two women come through? They would probably be dressed as Roman warriors. They are the Fates.”
He frowned. “Haven’t heard of their kind in these parts. Not in hundreds of years, at least. And if they’d been in level two recently, I’d know it.”
So, hopefully we’d already beaten them to hell.
He looked at his wrist, as if there should be a watch there. There wasn’t, but that didn’t seem to matter to him. His gaze rose to meet ours. "You should go. The caravan will leave soon.”
Muffin butted his head against the man's arm again, and then turned around to meet us. His little wings fluttered frantically as he tried to stay aloft. Let's get a move on.
We said goodbye to the man and followed Muffin across the tent. Princess Snowflake III and Bojangles followed us, staying close.
Muffin led us to an area at the far edge of the tent that looked like a stable. Horses that had been born with no eyes stomped impatiently at the dirt.
Muffin looked at me. Rare Hell horses. They see in their own way and use their other senses to travel. Otherwise, the sand would be too much for them.
"Cool." I turned my attention to the wagon that was hitched to the back of one of the Hell horses. There was a single bench at the front, and behind it, an arch-covered enclosure would protect the people or goods that were traveling across the sands.
"I feel like we're in the Wild West," Lachlan said.
“Yeah, that didn’t work so well for the folks who tried to cross Death Valley in these things.”
"Hopefully it will go better for us."
"It has to."
Muffin flew over to a woman who stood near the horse. She was almost entirely covered in leather garments. No sand was going to get to her skin. She had to be the driver.
Princess Snowflake III and Bojangles hopped up into the back of the wagon, disappearing behind the flaps of leather that acted as a door.
A moment later, Muffin turned to us, flying over. Florencia says that she'll take us across.
I looked at Florencia. She peered at me through a slit in her leather head covering, her blue eyes glinting sharply. "It'll be a deadly crossing."
"I'm used to that. Is there anything we can do to help?”
"Can you fight?"
"Yeah, pretty well." I hiked a thumb at Lachlan. "He's not so bad either."
The woman grinned. I couldn't see her mouth, but from the way her eyes crinkled, it was obvious. "Good, I like people who can fight. We need them down here."
I didn't know how she’d been enough of a jerk in her previous life to end up here, but she seemed pretty cool. Either way, I was grateful she was helping us.
She pointed to the back of the wagon, to the slit in the leather into which Princess Snowflake III and Bojangles had already entered. "You can get in there, and ride with Frank and Bill. Do whatever they say."
I nodded and climbed up into the wagon. The interior was larger than I'd expected, but it was filled with lumpy sacks of an unidentifiable substance. Two men sat on a tiny bench at the front of the wagon, each wearing the same leather outfit that Florencia wore.
The one on the right looked up at me. "Coming along for the ride?"
I found a seat on a tiny bench at the side. "Yes, looking forward to it."
He laughed at my joke and smacked his knee, then looked at his friend. “It's not often we get a funny one down here."
"You have low standards, Frank," grumbled the other one. He had to be Bill, if the laughing one was Frank.
I grinned. He was right—it hadn't been very funny.
Next to me, Muffin shifted uncomfortably, his little wings fluttering. On the floor, Bojangles was curled up, dead asleep amongst the bags of trade goods. Princess Snowflake III just looked bored.
There was a shout from outside, and the wagon began to rumble. It rolled forward, swaying lightly on its axles. As soon as we exited the large tent, I could feel it. Sand began to batter the wagon outside, and I shivered.
I looked at the two men. "This is a trading expedition?"
Frank nodded. "Yes, there's another settlement across the howling field of storms."
"We have to go through the dust storms,” Bill said. "Then we go through the rainstorm. Then the snowstorm. Where are you headed?”
I looked at Muffin. "Ask him. He's the boss.”
Muffin looked at the man. We are headed to the shortcut to level four.
Bill nodded, a grimace on his face. "Miserable place from what I hear."
There was something about this place that allowed other people to understand Muffin. I looked at Lachlan, but there was a confused crease at his brow. It seemed that even though we were here in the hellscape, only people from this realm could understand Muffin. I translated Muffin’s words for Lachlan.
"Who built the shortcuts between the levels?" Lachlan asked.
"The desperate." Bill shook his head. "Though why you would want to go any lower in this damnable place, I have no idea."
We rumbled along for several minutes, the only sound the battering of the sand against the leather wagon cover. This was regular dustbowl shit, and that had been hell. Appropriate, really.
The cart rocked along as the wind whipped grains of sand that began to work their way into our protected area. I looked at Lachlan. This might be miserable, but I liked adventures with him.
Soon, shouting sounded from outside. "Faster! Go faster, damn you!"
I looked at Frank and Bill, whose faces were lined with concern.
"There are a lot of dangers out there.” Bill frowned, turning around to peek out of the wagon front. He was sitting directly behind the driver.
"Can't see anything," he muttered.
I'm going to go check it out. Muffin fluttered into the middle of the wagon and approached Frank and Bill. They parted to allow him to slip through the opening in the leather wagon cover and join the driver.
A few seconds later, he darted back inside, his green eyes wide. Souls!
"All hell." Fear flashed across Frank's face.
"What do you mean, souls?" I asked.
They're coming from up ahead. The
y're going to attack the wagon.
“Souls? Like phantoms?" Lachlan asked.
Not like phantoms. They hurt your body, not your mind.
Bill's face turned entirely white. "If they get a hold of us for too long, we’ll become one of them. Our bodies will disappear, and we’ll become nothing but formless ghosts, floating in misery with the winds on the plain."
I couldn't just sit there. We were being attacked. I had to help.
Lachlan clearly felt the same, because he was already moving toward the front, climbing over the bags of trade goods, nimbly avoiding stepping on a sleeping Bojangles.
Bill and Frank both shifted aside so Lachlan could pass through the slit in the leather out onto the driving bench.
“Your funeral,” Bill muttered.
“Idiot.” Frank shook his head.
I stood and scrambled across the bags.
“You too?” Bill asked.
I grinned. “Me too. Glutton for punishment, I guess.”
Bill shook his head. “Both of ya, morons.”
“It’s not the worst I’ve been called.” I climbed out through the slit in the leather, immediately wishing I had my sand goggles from back in Death Valley. The wind was howling out here, the sand flying so fast it stung like glass against my skin. I squinted my eyes nearly closed, hoping my lashes could protect me.
Florencia sat in the middle of the bench, hunched against the howling wind. Lachlan sat on her left side, so I took the right. From behind, Muffin peeked his head out of the slit in the leather, hiding behind Florencia’s back.
“We’re in trouble!” Florencia shouted. “Souls coming from up ahead.”
I squinted into the distance, catching sight of a pale white glow.
“How do we fight them?” Lachlan shouted.
“You don’t.” Fear echoed in her voice. “No way to fight the incorporeal.”
Never really seen them before. Muffin hissed. Thought they were an old wives’ tale.
The wagon trundled along, the horse galloping as fast as it could.
“The horse will try to dodge them,” Florencia said. “I’ll do my best to steer around. And we hope.”
Just hoping?
That sounded like a terrible plan.
