Hell Bent

by Cate Corvin

  Let her think she was punishing me, throwing me into my worst nightmare.

  She’d handed me the one thing I’d been wishing for since my arrival.

  The guards opened my cage as the thing waiting out on the pillar roared in frustration. Moments later, Lucifer was dragged up into the throne room, still roaring back at the opponent with his sword in hand, chest heaving, gleaming with fresh cuts.

  He turned and glared at Ereshkigal. “You b—” He cut himself short when he saw me standing beside the cage.

  Ereshkigal smiled thinly. “Send her out.”

  She strolled back to her throne, running her hands through my hair as she passed. “Good luck to you, although I’m sure we’ll hear your lovely song before the end.”

  The guards surrounded me, blocking the sight of Lucifer as I was pushed past the thrones and onto the balcony. The gangway was a relatively thin plank: one wrong step would mean plunging into the river below for anyone without wings.

  All of Kur rose around me as I was herded out onto that precarious walkway. My eyes glanced over the tiers of the city, but then the thing that Lucifer had been fighting came into view. I shut my mouth with a snap when my jaw sagged open.

  It was nothing I had ever seen before; even a chimera, with its multiple heads and body parts, had some sort of natural symmetry to it.

  This thing was an abomination, a mound of flesh with no rhyme or reason to it. Multiple eyes— some reptilian yellow, some brown and soft, or sharp and vividly colored, and a few welling with tears— rolled and blinked from within the patchwork quilt of scales, fur, and feathers.

  It supported itself on a hundred precarious legs from different demons and animals, and the reek it gave off was like a charnel house.

  I paused on the gangway and looked over my shoulder. “Aren’t you going to give me a weapon?”

  Ereshkigal leaned forward on her throne, smiling back at me. “Use that empty little head of yours.”

  Retreating into my happy place, which was being as rude as possible, I snorted. “Terrible manners. You should really take note of how to run an arena from your betters.”

  Then I turned and marched down the gangway, stepping onto the ebonite pillar.

  The Irkallans booed, making it very clear whose side they were on. A rotten tomato splattered on the floor in front of me, and all of the patchwork thing’s eyes focused on the smear of clear juice.

  Then they rose to me. One of the many mouths opened wide and it made a sound, almost a word: “Nnnnngghrlll.”

  “Right back at you,” I muttered, looking desperately for any bit of garbage that might serve as a weapon.

  Besides me, Patchwork, and the tomato, there was nothing.

  Patchwork sniffed the air, taking a step closer. A string of drool ran out of one of the many mouths.

  I heard Ereshkigal call down to us, her musical voice tense with excitement.

  “Eat her.”

  6

  Melisande

  The patchwork thing was practically dancing with excitement, scampering from one side of the pillar to the other on its mismatched legs.

  I settled into a defensive stance, one arm raised to block any unforeseen attacks, taking inventory of what I had at my disposal.

  Torn clothes. Not much help there. No weapon, but my dark fire would suffice.

  I hadn’t wanted to put my magic on display for Ereshkigal, but there was no helping it now. The shield around Sarai remained intact, but I summoned the fire to my fingertips, exulting in the taste of ashes and petals in my mouth.

  I’d once hated the flavor, convinced I was damned for all eternity every time I tasted it, but now it was like drinking in pure power. I knew myself, inside and out. The bittersweet taste was synonymous with victory.

  The fire prickled my palm, coiling up and spilling to the floor as the length of a gleaming whip, studded with thorns.

  I lashed the air experimentally, the satisfactory crack traveling through the city.

  The demons’ insults and roars paused at the sound, but came back stronger than ever.

  Despite that, I smiled. I’d made it through my first round in Belial’s arena just like this, wearing nothing but tatters, terrified for my immortal soul, unaware of what I was capable of.

  This was just another enemy to be conquered, another throat to be torn out.

  “Come get me, Patches,” I taunted, circling the edge of the pillar with my wings held stiffly behind me, ready to take flight if necessary.

  She wanted me to fight to prove my love? I’d burn down Kur to a pile of ashes if that’s what it took.

  Patchwork had slowed in its frenetic dancing when I summoned the whip. The creature eyed me warily from the other side of the pillar, mouths lolling open and eyes unfocused.

  It wasn’t going to have an easy meal, that was for damn sure.

  I kept walking, and the thing kept pacing, too, keeping an even distance between us. When we circled to the opposite side, I had a clear view of the throne room and the audience in it.

  Ereshkigal’s lip was curled, Satan’s blue-black eyes pierced me with laser-like focus, and Lucifer… he was at Ereshkigal’s side, her darkness coiled around him and keeping him planted in place.

  He raised his chin as he watched me, giving me a short, sharp nod. Kill it.

  I raised my whip and went in for the first strike.

  Patchwork let out a deep snarl, mimicking my movement and lunging at me as I brought the whip down. It slashed across its hide, splitting scales and cracking across a slavering mouth.

  The thing yelped in pain and backed away, shuddering.

  I shook out the whip and danced back, putting another safe distance between us.

  Greenish blood oozed out of the wound. So it could bleed and die like any other demon… but I felt terrible for it. God knew what dark magic had created this monstrosity.

  You’re just like me, Satan’s words whispered in the back of my mind. When you’re ready to stop lying to yourself…

  I grimaced and took another step to the right as Patchwork snuffled around the pillar. I didn’t want to kill it, but it would’ve killed Lucifer. It wanted to eat me.

  I scored another strike, and another. The floor was puddled with the green blood that glowed like radioactive waste everywhere it landed. Patchwork’s eyes were bulging when it looked me over, and one of the mouths, one lined with enormous, sharp teeth, let out another one of the gurgling roars I’d heard while in my cage.

  The sound blasted through the air, sending pain lancing through my eardrums, and that moment of distraction cost me.

  Patchwork charged, galloping across the pillar like a train, and smashed into me.

  I barely raised a shield in time to take the brunt of the attack, but his charge was still powerful enough to drive me several steps back.

  My heel landed in a slick of blood. As if in slow motion, I felt my foot slide out from under me, my other foot trying to find purchase and stepping onto thin air.

  With a surprised gasp, I went over the side of the pillar.

  Patchwork roared triumphantly overhead as I fell down the side of the pillar, the softly glowing river of souls below rushing up to meet me. Demons screamed out laughter from their balconies as I plunged past them.

  My wings snapped out, catching my fall. I beat the air, rising upwards as the souls converged below me like a feeding frenzy of fish, pale hands rising out of the water to grab at my ankles. They dissipated back into the water when they realized their quarry was gone.

  I flew up over the top of the pillar, where Patchwork was dancing in its own blood, making groaning noises.

  Ereshkigal was perched on the edge of her throne, grasping the arm rests with white-knuckled fingers. Her lovely eyes narrowed as I rose above the pillar, reshaping my magic into a spear.

  Sweat beaded on my forehead. Every drop of magic I used was a dire necessity for later. Better to end this fast before I used it all up…

  But Lucifer was movi
ng. His light exploded, driving away the dark tendrils Ereshkigal had wrapped around him for only a second, but for that brief second he stepped forward, drew back his arm, and flung the sword he held towards the arena.

  It arched through the air, the blade catching the light and flashing like a star.

  “USE IT!” he bellowed.

  The tendrils climbed back into place, sliding over his mouth and jaw to hold it shut.

  I let my dark fire spool back into my arm, settling in my chest like a living flame, and dove to catch the sword.

  The hilt landed solidly in my hand as I ducked over Patchwork, just missing being grabbed by a feathered paw on its back, and swooped back up above the arena floor.

  It was a terrible sword, spotted with rust, the blade a little warped. But it was sharp, and that was what really counted.

  I dropped like a meteor, bringing the sword overhead to drive into Patchwork’s body.

  My impact crumpled the thing’s legs. It collapsed on the floor, letting out breath from a thousand lungs in a rancid whoosh, and the sword plunged all the way down to the hilt.

  Green blood trickled from the wound, burning my knees and calves, everything in contact with its skin.

  But it didn’t die easily. Several hands reached up and grabbed hold of me, digging into my skin with no mercy.

  It ripped me off its back and threw me down, driving the air from my own lungs. Only sheer desperation kept my hand clamped around the sword, ripping it out as I went. The blade clanged off the ebonite floor as I got to my feet.

  Patchwork wheezed and gushed, rising back up as well on trembling legs, every single one of its eyes giving me a look of pure fury.

  It had to have a weak point. Everything did.

  I flicked blood off my sword and went in again, slashing upwards and cutting away a talon, and back down to take out an eye.

  Patchwork keened, dancing away from me again, perilously close to the edge.

  I flew upwards again, circling the creature below, and came in for a strong kick to one of its faces.

  The monster’s legs trembled and collapsed again. It took another hard kick to knock it off-balance, exposing the knotted underside.

  A heart pulsed there, wrapped with veins and beating frantically.

  I drove the sword through it, cutting it in half, and braced one foot on the thing. Pulling the sword out as I pushed with my leg, I knocked Patchwork over the edge of the pillar.

  It snarled as it went, still alive despite its split heart.

  I stood on the edge, looking down as it fell a hundred feet to the river below. The monstrous body hit the river with an enormous splash.

  The pale shades drifted through the water, converging on the creature. One after another, until there were so many it was a swarm, eating away at it slowly. I looked away from the spectacle, hoping the blow to its heart had killed it before it was torn to pieces by the souls.

  My skin was covered in reddened burns from its toxic blood. I winced when I realized my sword-hand was a glove of burned skin, and realized Kur had gone quiet.

  I looked up. The demons were still there, muttering to themselves. But none of them were shouting for my death.

  Memories of Belial’s arena assailed me. I’d stood on a floor after a fight so many times, trying to hide from the cheers and chaos. I would’ve given my left arm for silence then.

  But out of that chaos I’d found my Chainlings, and legions of gladiators willing to go to war for me.

  Demons followed the strongest among them.

  I looked up at Ereshkigal, who was standing on the balcony like a dark idol and staring right back at me.

  “None of your monsters will slay me,” I shouted at her. My voice echoed in the silence of the cavernous city, a hundred Melisandes shouting back at me. “I am not a songbird nor your pet. I was raised from death by an archangel and thrown from Heaven by the same, and we killed him for it.”

  My shouts grew louder, the echoes thunderous.

  I didn’t notice them, boiling with rage under the adrenaline rush of the fight.

  “I am an angel, but no saint. I am the Lady of Wrath. I am the champion of the Brightside and the Princess of the Nightside of the Seventh Circle of Dis. Gabriel tried to kill me and failed. Satan tried to kill me and failed. Everyone who has ever tried to kill me has failed, and you are no different from them.”

  I flung my sword down. It skidded across the arena floor, spinning to a halt before it went off the edge.

  Ereshkigal looked down at it, and back at me, her face as expressionless as stone.

  “I didn’t fall from Heaven for nothing!” My shout came from deep inside, lungs aching, ensuring every demon in Kur heard me. “I fell because I belong here, and no matter how many monsters you send my way, no matter how many kings you murder, no matter how deeply you try to break me, I will raze all of Hell to the ground if you stand in my way.”

  I stopped, taking a deep breath, my throat burning.

  For a moment, it’d sounded like two voices shouting, not just mine.

  Ereshkigal’s eyes glittered in her still face. Slowly, ever so slowly, she raised her hand.

  Darkness spiraled from her fingertips, snaking down to the arena floor. They wrapped around me, encircling my arms and legs and drawing tight. The air was crushed out of my lungs in a rush as the tendrils lifted me off the floor and brought me up to the balcony, hanging in front of Ereshkigal almost nose to nose.

  She shifted as I stared at her, just as cold and hard, eyes whitening to blindness.

  “The resemblance is uncanny,” she whispered, her voice cracking with age. “Time is a circle, a snake eating its own tail… I should have seen it before. Like my sister, you think you’re above the rest of us.”

  She pulled me closer, the dark tentacles streaming from under her dress, creeping through her hair, ink-like streaks against the white.

  Despite her closeness, the might of her power seemed softer, somehow. It wasn’t the same power that had sickened me before. There was something almost alien about it.

  “But you are lesser.” Ereshkigal sniffed, her wrinkled lips pursing. “A pale imitation of those who came before. No angel born can hope to match the power of the old gods.”

  I became aware of Lucifer watching, bound with so many dark tendrils that only his furious silver eyes were visible. Satan had stood from his throne, caught in an expression between satisfaction and horror, one eye now entirely blue.

  All I wanted was for Lucifer to explode into Heavenly light and burn away the Eater of Souls like mist in the morning, but he would also feel the sickening drumbeat of her power, weakening his own. The collar prevented him from making any further attempts on her life.

  The Queen’s darkness stroked my cheek, as though anticipating my pain, and I realized that this time… the difference was that the touch of Ereshkigal’s darkness didn’t hurt me as much. Her presence wasn’t ripping me apart on the inside.

  The alien power I felt was from Inanna’s remaining consciousness, pounding through my veins, keeping the worst of Ereshkigal’s darkness at bay.

  This time, instead of shying away from the half-dead goddess’s touch, I embraced it, holding it as close as I held my own fiery magic. It felt like brilliant gold light, tinged with warmth alongside her eternal sadness, driving back the darkness.

  Ereshkigal changed forms, her young and beautiful face lined with anger. “I will enjoy crushing you underfoot now as much as I enjoyed it then.”

  7

  Melisande

  Ereshkigal whirled away from the balcony and the bloodied arena, dragging me behind her through the halls.

  The ropes of darkness prickled and stung my skin, but the golden light I’d borrowed from Inanna pushed outwards, forcing the pain to slide away. Ereshkigal’s power clung to me desperately, the loops and tendrils splitting apart and branching around my wings, arms, and legs.

  Everywhere they touched, the light welled up and drove them back. Ereshkigal s
pun on her heel and glowered at me, almost nose to nose again. Her breath was sour with wine. “There is no escape. There is no hope for you.”

  “I’m not like your sister, you mad bitch,” I spat, not daring to struggle against the bonds while she was close enough to bite.

  Her lips drew back over her teeth in a feral snarl. “Stubborn and stupid, just like her. Don’t you understand the wheels of time, little angel? Everything that once was comes around again.”

  I stared into eyes as deep and empty as an abyss, a cold shiver running through me before she turned away and continued to drag me away.

  We turned a sharp corner and I recognized where we were: the Ivory’s jaw gaped wide, waiting for me.

  Ereshkigal’s loops of darkness sent me flying into the open mouth. I flapped hard and braced myself, throwing up a shield to absorb the impact when I hit the smooth wall of the skull’s interior.

  But she wasn’t done with me. Far from it.

  I scrambled to face her as Ereshkigal stepped into the Ivory after me. She stared down at me with an anger so intense I nearly felt it, the corners of her mouth turned down.

  “Leave us.”

  The guards bowed and slunk away into the shadows.

  Ereshkigal’s scaly claws made a hollow sound as they tapped the bone floor, tak, tak, tak. I slowly straightened up, refusing to be punished on my knees for a crime I didn’t commit.

  She cocked her head to the side. “You may stand if you wish, but I assure you, by the end you won’t be able to walk out of here.”

  I set my jaw in defiance even as a shiver of trepidation went through me. There was something about her that was so familiar, even though I didn’t want to see it.

  “Turn around,” she barked, her spine bowing as she aged in fast motion. Her whitening hair was the exact same color as the Ivory’s ancient bone.

  I’d used so much of my magic in the fight. Every last drop I had to spare was for Sarai now. Pain I could deal with; pain had been my only friend in the training grounds of Heaven. Pain had inspired me to become greater than what I was.