Dark Goddess

by Amalie Howard

  “This way,” he said, taking eight measured steps to the right and starting down the other side of the dune toward the tower.

  They walked in silence for a long while. Sera’s thoughts were chaotic, full of anxiety over Kyle’s capture and Jem’s murky loyalty. She wished for some way—any way—to speed her journey along, and to finish it herself. But for the moment she had no choice but to trust Jem. And maybe try to make amends.

  Sera cleared her throat. “I’m sorry about your parents.”

  He flinched as if she had struck him, but plodded forward. “Me too.”

  “Why did you do it?” she asked softly.

  “I . . . was lost.” His answer floated back to her after a long pause. “Temlucus offered me revenge, and I took it.” Jem’s voice cracked. “But I killed them for nothing.”

  “It wasn’t you.”

  His laugh was hollow. “Of course it was. I did it. I watched them burn, in a fire that I set.” The laughter was replaced by dry hacking sobs. “I had to prove myself, you know? Prove myself capable.” Halting mid-step, he spat the last word, his body trembling as he fought for control. “Worthy of their loyalty.”

  “Whose?”

  “The ones who rule Xibalba.”

  Sera fought a wave of compassion. “Temlucus is a Demon Lord, Jem. They’ve coerced many men into doing terrible things. That’s what they do. They seduce and they lie.”

  “How would you know?” he whispered, shooting her a tortured look over his shoulder. “You’re born of Illysia. How would you know what it’s like to feel so powerless that your only way out is to trust the word of a demon? Your life is a cake walk.”

  “Cake walk?” Sera sputtered. “If you only knew. Finding out you’re a supernatural being with ridiculous powers, responsible for everyone? And you can’t set foot in Illysia because you’re also tied to hell? Yeah, total cake walk.”

  He turned to face her, his eyes damp and pained. “I did things. Unforgivable things.”

  “You’re human. You can still be redeemed.”

  “How?”

  Sera’s smile was gentle. “Atonement. Sacrifice.”

  “Sacrifice,” he murmured.

  She wrapped her arms around him in a hug, feeling his close tentatively around her waist. For a moment, the second dimension of Xibalba fell away and it was as if they were kids again, hugging in her backyard before throwing themselves into the pool on a hot summer day. She hoped he was feeling the same wash of memories as he gripped her closer.

  “It’s going to be okay.”

  “I know,” he whispered.

  Maybe it was the note in his voice or the flex of his body against hers, but Sera was warned of movement just as he launched them both to the right. Struggling to hold her footing, she could only clutch at him as they fell toward the gleaming desert. Their entry was soft, much like falling into a pool of quicksand. It swallowed them, sucking them down into its gravelly depths. Sera’s hellfyre flared as they sank deep, but Jem’s arms only tightened as it seared his skin with angry flames. Dev’s parting words echoed like a death toll in her head.

  “What are you doing?” she shouted, fighting uselessly to stay on the surface.

  Jem’s face was sorrowful. “Saving you.”

  “No.” She gasped. “You’re not.”

  “I am,” he said quietly, sand rising to their chins. He held her close, his eyes full of regret mixed with madness. “You don’t know what’s coming. What they’ve put into motion. This is for you, Sera. I’m doing this for you. I’m saving you from the hell that this world will become.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t you see? She’ll kill you all. And the realms will fall.”

  THE GATEWAY TO HELL

  Sand scoured her throat, her eyes, her mouth. It coated her tongue and scraped her skin until it was raw. The desert was eating her alive. Sera gathered her power and pushed out, her hellfyre swirling in a golden tornado of grit and dust as she rose from the depths of the pit that had swallowed her.

  “Hold on, Jem,” she ground out. “I’ve got us.”

  She looked down, her hand still gripping his, and bile rose up in her throat. There was nothing left of his arm but withered bone. His mortal form hadn’t stood a chance against the demonic desert.

  A sob caught in her throat as she hovered there, unwilling to let go and knowing that she had to. She felt an odd ache in her heart as she remembered Jem as a carefree boy, instead of the creature he’d become.

  “Find your way home,” she whispered after a long beat, and she released her friend’s skeletal hand, watching as the sand sucked him into its depths in a matter of seconds.

  A soul could climb the ladder to moksha, no matter where it began the journey—even in the Dark Realms. She only hoped Jem had the strength and will to find his way. The Demon Lord of this dimension would not make it easy.

  Flying upward, she felt herself being sucked into a vortex. Sera summoned her energy, holding her center still and forcing the tempest swirling around her to die down. To her surprise, it obeyed. Bits of sand slowed in midair as the desert itself responded to her authority. Sera blinked. She was entirely in control.

  For the first time, she wasn’t afraid. She was the goddess of all three realms. Being marked by Xibalba didn’t make her beholden to the Dark Realms. No . . . it gave her advantages. Like influence over the dimensions. She’d been so fearful of being corrupted that she hadn’t stopped to understand what the power of the rune meant. It was eye-opening. And formidable.

  She raised a palm. “Stop.”

  Her hellfyre flared brighter as she negated the rules of the realm. They did not apply to her. The suspended sand fell back to the desert floor in a shower of golden dust as she crossed the undulating shore toward the tower. Nequ’el’s wards pulled at her from every direction, but she ignored them, making her way slowly toward the place where Kyle was being held.

  Below her, bodies churned in the sand, begging for her to save them as she drifted past—including one with Jem’s face. With a harsh breath, she pushed on toward the entryway of the tower. Her feet touched the cracked stone floor and she waited, her hellfyre weapons bursting forth to light the shadowed space.

  She peered into the gloom. A narrow, curling staircase began at the bottom of the column, leading upward into the darkness. The circular space was empty, but Sera did not let down her guard. Adrenaline flowed through her in waves.

  Without warning, she felt a tremendous shift in energy coming down the stairs. Its immensity threw her for a second. Whatever it was felt larger than any rakshasa she’d ever felt before. Eminently powerful. Like an amalgamation of energies—intense and unidentifiable.

  Sera braced herself, but whatever it was didn’t reach her. It dissipated, escaping through an opening a few levels above her. Whatever it was had to have known that she was there, but it hadn’t stopped. Why?

  Frowning, Sera crept up the narrow, crumbling staircase. It didn’t take her long to reach the top. Her breath deserted her at the sight of Kyle tethered to a stone altar. Jem had been telling the truth.

  Drawing near, she flinched at the raw wounds on Kyle’s chest. He hadn’t noticed her arrival and was focused instead on sawing away at his bonds. Blood dripped from the stone as the edge of Mordas cut into the chains at his wrist. Given the awkward position of the blade, he couldn’t help cutting himself at the same time.

  “Kyle?” she whispered.

  His head turned in slow motion, his eyes opening and closing dazedly, as if he thought she was some demonic apparition. He drew a shuddering breath and resumed his position, staring at the ceiling and rocking his hand back and forth. “Go away, demon,” he muttered.

  She took a few more steps, wary of the darkening shadows in the corners. “It’s me, Sera.”

  The motion stopped and he contemplated her again with a squint. “Where were we when we first met?”

  She almost laughed. “I was stuck up a tree, inviting
you to a fake tea party.”

  A muscle in his cheek twitched, but the suspicion in his eyes remained. “Easy enough to know. Something harder,” he muttered, resuming his sawing with choppy strokes. “They’re always watching.”

  He was right. There was nothing either of them could ask the other that anyone couldn’t already know. She approached the table with decisive steps and hovered over him. Her hand closed over his stalled fist and forced the point of Mordas up toward her bare throat. The obsidian tip of it dug into her skin, turning the point of entry blindingly rose-gold. Only a weapon of Xibalba could summon her deifyre in hell. “Believe me now?”

  Mordas clattered to the floor. “Sera, what are you doing here?”

  “Saving you?”

  He blinked wildly, trying to see around her. “Did you see her? Aranyasura?”

  “Who?” Sera rested her flaming blades against the barbed edges of the Ifricaius holding Kyle down, grunting in satisfaction as the chains fell away.

  “The thing they created.”

  “You’re not making sense. What thing?” But even as she said the words, Sera knew what he was talking about. That massive burst of energy she’d felt. “What thing, Kyle?” she repeated as he sat up, and she grimaced at his oozing wounds. His Azura blood would heal them but his wrists and ankles still looked like tenderized meat.

  “The manushya-rakshasi.”

  The name sent a ripple of dread through her body. She shook her head. “I didn’t see it, but I felt it. I felt something.”

  “They’ve created their own version of Durga,” he said and stood on unsteady legs, wobbling as his face contorted with pain. “Just as Durga was an incarnation of the gods’ energies, Aranyasura is a demonic version of theirs.”

  Sera felt her blood turn to ice in her veins. “Is that even possible?”

  “If the gods can do it, so can they.”

  “How can we stop it?”

  His eyes dropped to the rune at the center of his chest, and Sera blinked as she spotted the chaotic mark. “She’s tethered to me, just like the last one was.”

  “So you can banish her back here.”

  Kyle shook his head. “It won’t be that easy this time. She wasn’t born of Xibalba like the Kali Demon was, Sera. She was made. Created. They used my blood to give her the ability to pass between realms.” He paused, swallowing hard. “The only way to imprison her here would be to kill me.”

  “No, not an option.”

  “It may be our only one,” he said. His eyes met hers and he gripped her hands between his. “There’s something else, Sera. Aranyasura’s body is incomplete. She needs a mortal host, one that is strong enough to withstand her powers. I thought it was me, but it’s not.”

  “What do you mean?” Sera’s mind was reeling as she remembered the energy she’d felt. No mortal body would be able to contain something like that. She’d seen what possession by ordinary demons had done to Jem and to others. Nothing human could contain the mass she’d sensed, unless that person was imbued with special abilities. Special, regenerative abilities.

  “No,” she whispered as understanding struck.

  “Temlucus never wanted Nate for himself.”

  “He’s just a kid.”

  “One with a lot of power. You heard what Darika said about him. Micah, too. He’s what they want, I know it.” Grabbing Mordas, Kyle knelt on the cold, stone floor. “We need to find her before she gets to your brother. Because if she does, she’ll be unbeatable. No immortal will be able to stop her.”

  Sera stared at her best friend, the weight of Dev’s words coming back to her. Sera squared her shoulders. She didn’t want to die, but she knew the truth in her bones: she’d give her last breath if it meant saving any one of her family. That was never going to change, not even if she knew her own death was near. She would do whatever it took to protect them.

  “Where are we going?”

  Kyle looked at her grimly as the portal began to form beneath his fingers. “Remember when I re-created the portal in the basement of the school where the vetalas were?”

  “After Ilani died,” she said dully.

  “Right.”

  “You said you saw Lamasha.” She frowned, putting two and two together. “Hers is the dimension lying beneath those burial grounds.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “The Demon Lords are in the fourth.”

  It made sense. If the burial grounds were an inactive portal lying beneath the school, they would be the perfect spot to rip a hole between the realms. She frowned, recalling the altar in the gym. “Wait, when I came through the portal at the school, it led me to the second.”

  “It was meant to,” he said, matching her expression. “That’s where it took me. But if the Demon Lords were all here, we’d feel them.” He closed his eyes, flexing his power. “It’s empty. Even Nequ’el isn’t here. They’re somewhere else.”

  “What if you’re wrong? What if they’re in a different hell dimension? We only have one shot at guessing where they are, or we’ll be too late to save Nate.”

  “I’m not. You have to trust me.”

  Trust, it seemed, was a fragile commodity these days. She’d been betrayed in small ways and big ways, by both friends and enemies. But in her heart, she would trust Kyle with her life, and she knew he would never willingly put Nate in danger. He loved him like a brother. Kyle was family. She stared at him for a long moment, then nodded.

  “They’re going to sense us the minute we get there,” he said grimly.

  “Wait, I have an idea,” she said and flew down the stairs to where she’d seen the replica of Jem rising up from the sand.

  Within seconds, his face emerged. The wails coming from his lips were pitiful. It’s not Jem, she told herself, despite the ache in her stomach at the sight of his face. With just the briefest hesitation, she reached down and cleaved her sword through its skull, demon gore spurting in all directions. Holding the severed head, she retraced her steps back to where Kyle was waiting.

  His gaze was horrified. “What the hell, Sera?”

  “I’m going to shade us.”

  “With Jem?”

  “It’s not him,” she said in a pained voice, the sound of his name eating through her resolve. “Jem died getting us here. This is Nequ’el’s way of trying to show me who calls the shots.”

  It didn’t take long to create a shade using the creature’s essence. She’d done it once before, using one of Ra’al’s most trusted servants, when she’d first ventured into Xibalba. That shade had been the only reason she had survived.

  Casting the rotten essence out like a net, she saw Kyle flinch in disgust as he felt it settle over him. Sera felt the same—like she was swaddled in layers of grimy scum.

  “What do you sense?” she asked him, watching carefully as he squinted at her, his brow wrinkling in revulsion.

  His gaze shifted into one of surprise. “I sense a rakshasa.”

  “Good. Let’s hope that’s what they see, too.”

  He stared at her, incredulous. “You’re amazing.”

  “Master of the hottest demon trends on the runway,” she replied with a wry laugh. “One of my many talents.” She sobered as she took his hand. “Ready?”

  Kyle nodded, squeezing back. And after a beat, they entered the portal together.

  The swell of demonic energy was cloying, sweeping toward them in thick bursts. He was right. The Demon Lords were all here. Kyle could feel their collective power ebbing and flowing, and shifting the balance set by the Demon Lord who reigned in the fourth dimension.

  Kyle fought his gag reflex as the sour mix of rot, vomit, and feces assaulted him. “Fourth floor, dimension of depravity and disease.”

  As he and Sera exited the portal and gathered their bearings, Kyle looked around warily. The dimension looked almost the same as the last time he’d been here. He could recall the scarlet tilled pastures. The ones he had seen before had been bare, but those surrounding them now were lush with vegetation. He swall
owed a rush of bile as he realized why the flora was so rich. The plants were fertilized with flesh and blood.

  Sera’s whisper at his ear made him jump. “Where do you think it is?”

  “What?”

  “The other end of the altar?”

  He focused on the pull of the demon auras, reaching for where they were the most concentrated. “That way,” he said in a low voice, pointing to a rocky path that meandered away from the grotesque meadow. “And Sera, be careful.”

  The pathway descended into some kind of tunnel leading underground. The earthy walls around them rippled as if they were alive, while yellow crevices with oozing abscesses ran their length. Kyle suppressed a shudder. It felt like they were walking deep inside some festering, dying body.

  Several demons passed them, but none seemed to notice the strangers in their midst. It appeared that Sera’s shade was working.

  After several minutes, the tunnel narrowed and they had to hunch down to move through it. Kyle could feel the wet tunnel walls touching his skin and he recoiled, spitting a mouthful of bile to the side. Though he could hear her shallow pants, he couldn’t risk talking to Sera and being overheard. In a place like this, even the walls would have ears.

  The passage widened and came to a sudden end. An enormous grotto yawned before them. They were in the mouth of one of many caves lining the immense precipice inside the caverns. Other silhouettes gathered in nearby holes and the demon stink was a thousand times worse. Kyle held up a fist and pressed a finger to his lips as Sera approached their ledge. Her eyes widened when she took in the scene below. It looked exactly like the burial grounds in the basement of Silver Lake High—full of swirling, restless vetala.

  But that wasn’t what stole Kyle’s breath.

  An altar, identical to the one in the school’s gymnasium, lay at the bottom of the cavern, jagged crystalline shapes spearing upward from it. They glowed red and yellow, and a swirling, dark, vaporous form rippled at its center. He knew without a doubt, even before feeling the colossal mass of energy, that it was Aranyasura. The altar was merely a catapult, meant to transport her to the other end.