The Tower

by L. A. McGinnis

  “You don’t have power over me, Padre. I am the woman I am today, despite what you tried to twist me into. So, guess what? I win. And you lose.”

  With a drop of her shoulder, and a feint, she dodged to his left—always his weakest side—and grasped his forearm on her way past. A twist of his thin wrist had the bones breaking, and another parry brought him to his knees. Before he knew it, his knife belonged to her, and she stumbled through the opening of the final door.

  Where Death swallowed her up.

  41

  Gabriella fell and fell and then kept on falling.

  She would have screamed, if she could have, but even sound was stripped away from her, along with her life. She felt her soul leave her body, ripped away with the shadowy sensation of pain, followed by clean, cold emptiness. As if there was nothing left to worry about. And when she stepped through the final doorway into the light, she saw they were down to the original five they had agreed upon.

  The cramped room had the smell and feel of a storage area that had been sealed up for too long. Gabriella tucked her father’s blood-stained knife into her belt and counted heads, even while the faces swam before her eyes.

  Hunter, Tyr, Hel, of course…Odin, leaning against the wall, looking like he’d been through the wringer. And Balder, such a look of intense wanting on his face it took her breath away.

  Words died on her lips.

  “Where is Mir?” The question—not the one she wanted to ask—but the one she needed an answer to before something totally inappropriate was blurted out, hung in the air for a moment before Tyr finally answered.

  “Stuck in one of the rooms, we assume. We can’t wait much longer.”

  Gabriella wanted to ask how long it had been, but part of her didn’t want to know. It had felt like years. Especially that last room, with her…

  “Gabbie?” For a big man, Balder was light on his feet, because he was right beside her, one hand underneath her elbow. “I tried not to let go.”

  There was a rawness shining in those golden eyes, one that she felt had to be soothed, so she wrapped a hand over his. “I know, I felt you grab for me. But you couldn’t have saved me, even if you would have hung on.” She tried to smile then but failed miserably.

  “Let’s get through this next bit, okay? Then I’ll tell you what happened,” she murmured quietly, tightening her hand on his. She was keenly aware of all the eyes on them. “If I can.”

  She felt the brush of his lips and then the cold as he stepped back. “We wait a few minutes more for Mir, then we’ll have no choice but to move on. Hel, how far is it?”

  “Five minutes, at most. The doorway will have the same effect as the last, but it will drop you right at the bottom of the rise by the entrance to the cairn. I’ll see you through the door, then I’m out of there.”

  “And how do we get back here?”

  “Just walk through. All you have to do is remember where you came in, and go out the same way.”

  “Goddamn it.” Tyr lunged forward as Hunter nimbly blocked his charge. “You’re telling me you won’t be waiting for us?”

  “Like I said, I’m going to Paris.” Hel spoke like she was talking to a three-year-old. Tyr’s hands curled into fists. “And I meant it. I am not going out there. Nor am I hanging out so close to that…thing.”

  “You slept with him for months,” Tyr reminded her. She went so quiet and still that Gabriella began to wonder if she was even breathing.

  “Don’t remind me, asshole. I let bad judgement get the better of me. Isn’t going to happen again. Not today, anyway.” She cleared her throat. “Which is why—I. Am. Going. To. Paris.

  “You should be invisible to any wards he has that sense intruders. The asshole never brought me here, so your guess is as good as mine. From here, you are on your own. Just like we agreed.”

  “Just like we agreed,” Gabriella repeated slowly.

  Why did she feel like the other shoe was about to drop? They were through the worst the Underworld supposedly had to offer, and on to whatever the Orobus had in store for them. With no real exit plan. “Is there any way for the door to lock behind us?”

  “No, you just have to remember where it is.” There was a ghost of a smile on Hel’s lips.

  Gabriella fixed her with a long, pained look. “And if we don’t? If we miss it, or get separated, or can’t find the goddamned thing, what then?”

  “Then, I’m afraid, you are stuck.”

  Stuck. On an island with no escape with the most powerful entity in the universe. Known entity, she reminded herself. And Ava, who had practically killed her once. No, twice now. A small glimmer of hope crested inside of her. But she was already dead.

  “Can we be killed?”

  Hel shook her head, her serpentine smile growing wider.

  “What is the catch, then, if we’re already dead?”

  Hel’s smile widened until it split her face. “Ah, that’s the beauty of all of this. While you cannot technically die, your bodies can be controlled by that creature, just like all those walking dead soldiers of his. And even if you manage to get off that island? You’ll never get back through the antechambers without my help. So, think long and hard before you say another word, or threaten me, or whatever you’re about to do, because I hold all the cards right now, little girl, not you.”

  Hel’s smile narrowed, turned cold. So much like her father’s that dread slithered into Gabriella’s gut. “You haven’t figured it out yet, have you?” She scanned the faces. “None of you? Mir would have, but I left him cooling his heels in the room of Pain. It’ll be some time before he gets out of there.”

  Which meant these were not just any antechambers, but Hel’s personal prisons. But she’d gotten out. How had the others?

  “I own you now. I have dominion over the dead. All the dead. It was what was granted to me, when I was banished down to this hideous place. My only trump card, and one I plan to use to the fullest. Now the five of you are going to kill that creature. You will make sure Domenic is dead, or I will make sure there’s nothing left of Mir for you to pick up on the way out.”

  Ah, here was the catch, and it was a big one.

  “You’ve forgotten one, small detail, Hel.” Gabriella pulled out her knife and drew it across her palm where blood welled up, crimson and shiny.

  “Una vida para una vida. Y una muerte por una muerte.”

  Gabriella’s gloating smile matched Hel’s perfectly. “A blood debt owed to another is no small thing.” Even from where she stood, Gabbie watched the goddess pale at the realization. “A life for a life”—she pointed at Hel with the bloodstained knife—“and a death for a death is what I can promise you. Mortals or immortals, it makes no difference. You owe me your life, and I intend to collect.” She held up a staying hand. “Not just this second. But you will be waiting right here for us when we return and you will keep to your word. And I want Mir back, right the fuck now.” She grew stronger, watching the triumph fade from Hel’s eyes. “And when we get above ground, alive, as promised, you and I are coming to some kind of agreement Preferably one that does not involve backstabbing and betrayal.”

  The long, slow clapping that echoed off the walls could only come from one person, as Odin’s low, arrogant voice followed it up with, “Well then, we might as well get this show on the road. No sense in standing down here when the real war’s up top, right kids?”

  Mir shot out of the doorway, a sweaty, strangled mess, brushing at himself like he was covered in fire ants, or bees, or worse.

  And maybe he had been.

  His hands stretched out toward Hel’s neck before Balder blocked his charge and barricaded him against the wall, quietly explaining, his furious gaze darting over to her, to Hel every so often, until Mir stilled and looked even more thunderous than he had before.

  “You fucking bitch. I thought I was dying,” he spat as he crossed the room.

  “Love you, too, Mir,” she called sweetly to his back.

  Go
od thing she was used to assassins and mercenaries, Gabriella thought, rolling her eyes. “The door, Hel. And you’d better be waiting for us when we get back.”

  Odin’s hand slid over her shoulder, and they were marching steadily forward, a big, bad, undead army. Well—small unit, but still.

  Hel led them through a narrow corridor and then… They were through. Freezing wind bit into her, the sound of crashing waves echoed in her ears. After the stillness of the Underworld, this cacophony was an assault.

  But like they’d done this a hundred times before, they fell into an easy formation, Hunter and Tyr splitting off to flank and remove any posted guards, while she and Balder led the assault up the side of the hillock, keeping behind the row of scraggly bushes that she hoped would give them some cover. Mir, still a little shaky on his feet, got stuck with Odin, who was currently struggling up the rocky crest of the shore, bitching the entire way.

  “Should I help them?” Balder asked, worried. “Because he’s making enough noise to…” A guard’s head popped up from the rough patch of bushes in front of them, only to drop out of sight as Balder’s knife found its mark. “…wake the dead,” he finished.

  “No, better stick together. We reach the top of the rise and see how Tyr and Hunter made out. They’ll still be far enough behind us, they should be okay. Mir’ll take care of him, right?” She cast a doubtful look behind them, Odin’s curses carrying on the wind.

  “Yes, he will.” Balder pulled her forward. “You’re right, let’s get up there and figure out how to get inside. You really think you can get close enough?”

  Did she want to get close enough?

  Now that they were actually here, now that they’d literally gone through hell and back, she was having second thoughts. Okay, maybe not second thoughts, maybe more like common sense was finally kicking in. The air around them turned choking as they climbed higher. They gazed over the lip of the small path that led to the dark opening of the cairn. If her heart was beating, it would have thundered at what she saw.

  “Just like Sydney said.”

  “Exactly like it,” Gabriella breathed.

  That opening looked like a mouth ready to swallow them whole. From atop the roof of the mound, she saw Hunter give a small, barely perceptible wave. All clear, then. She was up. She scooted forward, intending to launch herself across the path and through that opening, before she had time to be afraid, before she even had time to think, when Balder caught her arm. “Once you’re in there, know that I’ll be right behind you.” he said softly. “I’ll protect you, and I’ll have your back. I swear… What?”

  His eyes drifted over her shoulder and widened—not in fear—but in alarm. Maybe even shock. Gabriella rolled over and hoisted herself up to her elbows, just in time to watch Odin stride straight in through the opening of the cairn and disappear into the darkness.

  “Fucking hell.”

  Fucking hell was right. Mir struggled up next to them, blood leaking down the side of his face.

  “That bastard hit me with a rock. Where did he go?”

  “In there.” Balder nodded to the cairn.

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah.”

  For a few seconds, they all just stared. Seriously, how could a plan go off the rails so badly in a matter of seconds? Then Balder heaved himself up, offered Gabriella a hand, and they followed Odin in.

  The first thing that struck her was how quiet it was. The strange, otherworldliness of the place peeled back and allowed them entry, the flickering light which came from nowhere drew them in. Gabriella trailed her hands across the stones as she passed. Fingerprints. Hundreds and hundreds of fingerprints marked the stones, whirling, intersecting, one after the other. At the end, Odin’s silhouette, back to them, facing two figures.

  Ava was one.

  David Domenic—or rather, the human who used to be him—was the other.

  Gabriella wasn’t sure where to look first. At Ava, who looked absolutely furious. At Domenic, who looked bored, or at Odin, who stared at Ava with such terrible longing.

  The knife in her hand felt insignificant right now. With all her heart, she hoped Hunter and Tyr stayed on the roof, because she knew, knew, from the second she’d set foot inside, that they’d not be leaving this hole in the ground.

  The place had a womblike closeness, magnified by a faint pulsing. Maybe it was coming from the stones. Maybe it was coming from her. Maybe, her eyes slid over to Domenic, it was coming from him. At least the dark power inside of Ava wasn’t trying to kill her just yet. Or she was immune to it. A conundrum to ponder later, perhaps.

  Ava’s laugh was claws trailing across stone. “I can’t believe you came. Are you here for me?”

  Domenic watched them both, his eyes ravenous.

  “You don’t need to do this. Don’t stay with him. Come home with us…me.” Odin’s head whipped to Domenic. “You have everything you want. Let her go.”

  “Her choice, asshole.” Domenic cocked his head. “She chose to stay with me, I believe.”

  Balder and Mir closed in around her. The contact grounded her, the feeling of them together flowed through her, enough for her to realize how much this place was affecting her. As if the cairn magnified everything, every instinct, every sense. She felt Balder so clearly—heard his thoughts, felt every beat of his heart, sensed his love, that unwavering honor. The way he shielded her—setting himself firmly between her and the Orobus—should things go south.

  Mir was angry, ready for a fight, his thoughts turned her brain into fireworks, as he weighed every avenue of escape.

  Odin was reduced to pure desperation. Resignation. Mostly the latter, as if he knew how this would all turn out, but had to give it the old college try.

  Connected.

  They were completely connected down in here. Her fingers reached out and finally found Balder’s. Her skin tingled at the contact, sparks flying between them, blazing. Their bond was glorious. Endless. As if they had found each other across the universe, spanning centuries. Gabriella shut her eyes, seeing stars.

  This place was a magnifier. And if she felt like this? She could only imagine what an immortal god might feel in this ancient place. Her eyes snapped open.

  Domenic’s eyes cast over her and a long, slow smile crept across his face. Then a vague nod of recognition. A challenge.

  That smile, that condescending, smug smile that crawled across his face reminded her so much of her father’s, of someone who thought he’d already won. Who knew he had the upper hand and would bring his fist down on this world and smash it to bits? Rivers of darkness leaked from his eyes and mouth, reaching for her, encircling her body, and Gabriella braced, then relaxed as they passed through her, over her.

  No effect.

  And why should it? She was dead. Not only was she dead, she’d survived all six antechambers of the Underworld. She wasn’t, maybe, even human, anymore.

  Edging out from between the two gods, she drew a step closer to Domenic. And the swirling power that could end the world, plus the very delicate flesh and blood that held it all together. Her father’s knife balanced in her hand, point forward, her breaths came steadily.

  There will come a time when you will get your chance. And I want you to be ready, when that chance presents itself.

  There was a humming inside of her, as if her heart still beat. An intriguing, terrifying sensation that made her feel as though she were in fast motion. Another step, another incremental increase in his annoying smile, sending more of his black, grabby darkness toward them.

  “Gabriella.” There was furious warning in Balder’s voice, and she hesitated for a split second, her foot raised, her hand on the hilt of the knife.

  Without turning, she muttered, “I have a shot and I’m taking it.” And then everything happened at once.

  Odin made a grab for Ava, his hands stretching, a parody of futility as she twisted away, curling her body toward Domenic’s, whose victorious grin made Gabriella want to vomit.

&n
bsp; Balder grabbed for her, while Mir threw his arms in front of the both of them, shielding them both from whatever was coming. Slipping between Balder’s grasping hands, she pulled herself free and pitched herself up onto her toes until her body was one long, clean line. Deftly, she threw the pearl-handled knife end over end, and willed that dagger to find the bastard’s heart.

  Time stopped for the millisecond the knife spun through the air, but Gabriella knew this was why she’d brought that weapon out of the Underworld and, with her father’s words still ringing in her ears, watched the point bury itself deep into the chest of David Domenic. Now it was her turn to feel a rush of victory as the handle protruded from his chest, vibrating slightly as he dropped to his knees, surprise written all over his face.

  There are things in life that you can count on. Water is wet. Everyone dies. And bad luck finds you at the worst possible times.

  Case in point. This place magnifies everything.

  The next thing she knew, Balder yanked her backwards, as Domenic’s dying encompassed the entire space. It created a vacuum, sucking everything into it through this narrow corridor of stone. As if in symbiosis, the air vibrated, almost as if they were absorbing his last moments, the final beats of his heart, his final breaths. Evidently, a primordial god’s death caused a black hole of epic proportions. Utter chaos reigned around them as even the stone began pulsating, an abomination to physical law.

  “We need to get the fuck out of here,” Gabriella vaguely heard Mir say, but she was far too busy being devoured by whatever was happening around them.

  “Out. Right.”

  In all her calculations and half-assed theories, she had never actually let herself wonder what happened, once that fleshy shell of his came apart. Apparently, whatever did, it wasn’t a good idea to be stuck in a small, enclosed space with it.

  “I’m dead, already, it’s not supposed to affect me like this.” She wasn’t sure why she was getting so pissy about this whole thing, running for her life, sandwiched between Balder and Mir, hoping like hell Odin was right on their heels, even if it was only so she could kick his ass if and when they survived this cluster fuck.