Horseman: A Nate Temple Supernatural Thriller Book 10 (The Temple Chronicles)

by Shayne Silvers

  “You got them backwards,” they grumbled in unison.

  “Listen up, Yu, Fook,” I said, glancing from left to right again. “You need to dress differently. Or always stand with Fook on the left. Otherwise it ruins all my joke material.”

  They shared a look with each other, then switched places so Fook was on the left. Then Fook lifted his middle finger at me, holding it steady with a smug grin.

  I scowled, turning as I saw Yu pointing his index finger at me.

  I looked from one to the other, suddenly realizing what they were doing. They were telling me their names. Fook holding up his middle finger, and Yu pointing at me. Like a mime saying fuck you.

  I grinned. “Fook me? Fook Yu!” I laughed, duplicating their hand movements.

  Surprisingly, they grinned, nodded, and then suddenly froze, shoulders stiffening in abject horror for some reason.

  “If it’s any easier, I could freeze their respective fingers into obsidian so you always know which one is which,” Raego offered, standing in the shadows of the open doorway. I hadn’t even noticed him.

  He took a step onto the porch, between the guards, and turned to face Fook. “Hold out your middle finger.” The young man gritted his teeth in shame and fear but complied. Raego turned to Yu. “Hold out your index finger. This will only hurt like hell for an hour or so.”

  They obeyed, grimacing in anticipation. Raego just stood there, and fog began to drift out from his nostrils, even though he was in human form.

  “I was just giving them a hard time, Raego,” I said carefully, not wanting them to pay the price for my teasing.

  Raego cocked his head. “Hmm. Maybe you two could start wearing different colored jackets, like I’ve mentioned…” he darted his head forward, black fog puffing out of his nostrils like smoke, “three times, already,” he finally snarled.

  They nodded, and in an instant, were both tearing off their jackets until they both stood there in identical white dress shirts. I let out a sigh. Kids these days, right?

  “Make it work!” Raego finally snapped. I blinked. Really? A Tim Gunn reference? I was impressed. “Or my previous solution stands,” he added. “You have two minute—”

  All three dragons were suddenly staring past my shoulder in disbelief. A wolf howled, and I heard a crashing sound from within the house. Then the three dragons were lunging for me, all sporting claws. “This will only take a minute,” a cold, sinister voice said from directly behind me. Then thick arms grabbed me around the torso and I was yanked into a black world.

  Chapter 19

  I’d experienced abductions like this way too many times over the years, so had devised – and practiced religiously – an immediate, instinctual response to knock everyone in my proximity to their asses before they could strap me to a chair, surround me, or otherwise be big, fat meanies.

  I built up my power, fueling it like a tiny reservoir inside my soul. Then I unleashed it in every direction, using every element at my disposal to unleash a repercussive supernova that would do no real lasting harm, but would daze everyone around me. Like a magic flash bang grenade – but using every element just in case my abductors had an immunity or protection from one or two of my usual flavors of mayhem.

  My reaction was non-fatal, because many people thought this was a good way to get my attention – a casual abduction – but they might not necessarily be enemies. They were just terrified to talk with me on an even playing field, like they assumed I had some kind of temper or something.

  This was my new way of showing them I was willing to listen with an open heart and mind.

  The force ripped off my jacket and sent my abductor flying. I spun on my heels, holding up my hands in case he really was a bully of some flavor, ready to blast his jaw into the concrete.

  My blood instantly coagulated as I heard only foreboding laughter and a chorus of strange boiling teakettle whistles. I really took note of my surroundings and realized my night had just gone to hell. We were in a world of roiling black fog.

  And I was surrounded by a ring of about a dozen Candy Skulls – Calaveras – the Wardens, or Prison Guards, of Hell.

  Shit.

  That meant…

  A figure slowly rose from beneath the fog where he had landed after my flash bang move. I saw the tall, pointed, black ears first. Then the long, dark snout of a jackal just below a pair of fiery indigo eyes – like windows into a different solar system. His bronze torso was well-muscled, but his abdomen was wrapped with white gauze, impeccably clean. He sported intricate golden bands around each bicep, looking like they could never be removed. As if placed on him at birth, and since his arms had grown so large, could now never be taken off. Ironically, I didn’t remember them from the last time we had met.

  His golden kilt appeared last, the sapphires dull and flat in this dark world, as he finally stood to his full-height – which was taller than anyone else present.

  Anubis. King of the Underworld. Or Hell, as many knew it. Only now, I knew that Hell was more a general term, not only encompassing the Christian version with fiery lakes of brimstone and eternal woe. No, like those late-night infomercials, Hell had many added bonuses.

  But wait, there’s more!

  Hell was comprised of every flavor of the various Underworlds across pantheons and belief systems. Greece’s Elysium, Tartarus, Egypt’s Field of Reeds, Christianity’s Pearly Gates and Hell, and everything in the middle. Both the pleasurable places and the horrible places.

  And Anubis had been employee of the month one too many times, earning the chance to rule the entire corporation. And he was kind of my boss.

  Because I was his new Guide to Hell, and I’d kind of no-call no-showed him.

  “Hey, Annie,” I said, straightening my suit jacket. A button had popped off and I knew I had zero chance of ever finding it in the shifting fog. “Long time no see. What’s new?” I asked jovially, furiously thinking of any possibility at escape. He had Shadow Walked us to this middle… place. The last time I’d been stuck here, I’d seen a window that led to the exit. But I sure didn’t see one now.

  “Annie?” Anubis grumbled hungrily.

  “Annie Ubis. It’s something friends do. Give each other nicknames.”

  “Surely, Temple, you don’t think we are friends…”

  I narrowed my eyes suspiciously, wondering if he’d really just mocked me by calling me Shirley Temple, or if he was being serious. His emotionless black mask gave me no answer.

  Right. Time to switch tactics. “Is this like an employee appreciation event? Did you guys bring cupcakes or anything?” I asked, holding out my hands at the Wardens surrounding us.

  “We did. But they melted. Our kitchen was too hot, apparently,” he said drily, grinning as he stalked closer. The Calaveras quivered back and forth in unison, emitting their whistling, keening wail like a hive mind. I’d almost forgotten how creepy they were, what with their random, spasmodic twitches, and jerking movements.

  “Well, I was kind of in the middle of something—”

  “Imagine that,” Anubis interrupted me. “Ironically, you’re now still in the middle of… something.” Anubis gestured a hand at the circle of Calaveras surrounding me. “It’s time for us to go home. It would be flat out embarrassing if someone happened to want a Guide through Hell only to realize I didn’t have one on hand.”

  I shivered. “Maybe I could be an on-call Guide. A work from home kind of arrangement. I have some things to take care of on the upper levels.”

  “This is my compassionate face,” Anubis said lazily. “The one that shows you exactly how much I care about your to-do list.” He stared at me, unblinking.

  “I need to take out Mor—”

  He was suddenly gripping me by the throat with his furry, black paw, and the Calaveras were all suddenly gone.

  My nether regions instantly began to sweat, because the temperature went up by about six-hundred-and-sixty-six degrees.

  Celsius.

  And the punge
nt, syrupy-thick scent of sulfur was shoved into my nose like a wet rag, making my eyes instantly water. Then I was slammed onto a skillet, instantly ironing my suit free of wrinkles and almost breaking my spine.

  I lay there, staring up at the ebony jackal, and thought that the black and red clouds limning him from behind gave the scene an altogether overly sinister feel.

  Tortured souls wailed in anguish, like they were reciting the Pledge of Allegiance, but sadder.

  I pledge allegiance, to the flag, of the United Pantheons of Anguish. And to eternity, for which it lasts. One miserable existence, under Anubis, with torture and agony for all…

  I was on a rock island in a sea of lava.

  “Hell, sweet Hell,” I whispered.

  Chapter 20

  Anubis released me and climbed to his feet, walking away without an iota of concern for my ouchies – no kiss to make them feel better, and no Band-aid with a cartoonish superhero depiction of Cerberus. I waited a few beats before I stood, confident he wasn’t waiting to just swat me back down. “Is it something I said?” I asked, brushing off my pants as I turned to look over at Anubis. He had waded out into the lava like it was a sunny day on the beach and he was cooling off his paws.

  Except, you know, the soothing saltwater was molten lava.

  Black pillars climbed up from the lava in places, crumbling even as I watched. Bolts of lightning from a mass of black clouds sluggishly drifting on the horizon slammed into the magma ocean, erecting fresh black pillars to replace the collapsing ones.

  He waved absently at a figure who was drifting in what looked suspiciously like a bass fishing boat – complete with sparkles and flames painted onto the hull – a few dozen yards away from the shore of our rocky island. Charon, the Boatman to the River Styx – even though this wasn’t the River Styx – dropped the can of beer he’d been pouring on his face, spraying his robes with a jet of light beer.

  Charon was a bit of an alcoholic. He wiped the booze off his leathery, sewn-up lips, and waved back hesitantly, holding a skeletal hand over his eyes as if to verify we weren’t an illusion or hallucination. Anubis was easy for Charon to distinguish, but the Boatman seemed to be uncertain who I was. I waved at him and he froze. Then he rushed to the back of his boat and flicked on what was definitely a trolling motor, guiding his craft our way.

  What the hell? A bass fishing boat motor? In lava? At least he wasn’t wakeboarding this time.

  Anubis sighed impatiently, folding his arms as he waited.

  Charon drove his fancy boat up onto the shore of our lone island, and I heard a collection of agonized groans as he did. Looking to the side of his boat, I noticed a rope tied to the hook, the other end dipping below the lava. I frowned, watching as the rope jerked and twisted spastically. Charon calmly picked up an oar and beat at the lava – at whatever was submerged below the surface attached to the rope. He splashed lava all over his robes in the process, but the splatter didn’t scorch him.

  The bubbling groans died down, and the rope stopped quivering. Charon grunted through his sewn-up lips and nodded self-importantly. That’s when it hit me. Those were souls tied to the end of his rope. Like a string of fish. As he was joy-riding around the ocean of lava, he was dragging souls along behind him. I wasn’t an expert. Neither was I the kind of guy to tell a man how to do his job, but… that seemed a little cruel to me.

  Charon stepped onto shore, lost his balance, and promptly fell onto his face in a drunken stumble. Anubis sighed, turning his back on the both of us to survey his kingdom in silence.

  Charon stumbled back to his feet, risking a sheepish glance at Anubis, but seeing he wasn’t about to be reprimanded, shot me a grin that dangerously stretched the twine sewing his lips shut. I shivered but smiled back. “Hey, man.”

  “Temple! It’s so great to be working with you!” His voice was like a nest of rattlesnakes on dry leaves in a windstorm. Also, his voice was in my mind, his lips unable to fully open thanks to the thick, twine stiches sewing them shut.

  I ignored that last bit with a tight grimace and pointed at the rope. “What’d they do?”

  Charon glanced back and chuckled. “Oh, them? They’re just asshole politicians. We let them choose where they wanted to go, Heaven or Hell.”

  I blinked back at him. “They chose this?” I asked incredulously, waving my hand vaguely at the obviously unpleasant vacation destination.

  Charon grinned, one of his stitches actually tearing through his ancient leather cheeks, making me wince uneasily. “Technically, yes. We—” he shot a look at his boss’ back, changing what he’d been about to say, “well, Anubis had a grand idea. We took them on a tour, first. Like one of those timeshare salesmen. We let them spend a day down here, but we showed them a bunch of cool places from Elysium and Nirvana. We let them hang out with their departed friends and family, attend a rock concert, and threw more booze and drugs at them than they could deny. The next morning, we asked them to make their decision. Pearly Gates with a bunch of stuffy do-gooders, or Hell. After their tour, they obviously chose Hell.”

  I nodded slowly, pointing a finger at his string of souls hanging from the boat. “Then why are you dragging them through lava?”

  He grinned, straining his stitches and making me grit my teeth in imagined pain. “You know, that’s the best part. They asked the same thing on their first official day here, right after our first orientation course – Endless Torture 101. Crying about how it was nothing like the tour we had taken them on.” Anubis chuckled to himself, the sound sending a shiver up my spine. He wasn’t facing us, but his stance reeked of smug pride. “We told them that the tour with their friends was election day, and that we had needed their votes. But this was the day after elections, and we could do whatever the hell we pleased, now.”

  I shook my head at the cruel justice but couldn’t help smiling. “Wow. That’s… hardcore.”

  He nodded. “They did the same thing to their constituents on Earth. Seemed fitting.” He shot a glance at Anubis’ back, looking respectfully proud of the jackal. “He’s a good boss. Harsh, but fair. You’ll see. And just think, you’ll get to see your parents.” Anubis cleared his throat pointedly, and Charon lowered his gaze. “Well, you’ll have the chance. Maybe… in passing.”

  I ran a hand through my hair, glancing up at the rock ceiling hundreds of feet above our heads. It was so high up that the patches of dark clouds weren’t just pockets of smoke, but Hell’s own weather system.

  Charon nodded, following my gaze. “It will rain Hellfire soon,” he sighed. “But as an employee, at least it won’t harm you. Hurts a little, but you get used to it after a few decades.”

  “Charon…” I said, speaking lower. “I messed up. I let…” I hesitated, recalling how Anubis had reacted when I’d almost said his name a few minutes ago, “someone out of here, and I need to make that right. Or the world will suffer for it. If I have to come back after, I’ll do it, but I have to convince Anubis to give me… well, enough rope to hang myself. It’s not like he has anything to lose. If I die, I’m pretty sure I’ll end up down here anyway.”

  Charon had gone entirely still and was staring down at the ground, kicking the ash and gravel absently, like a child pretending to be innocent when a mother catches him doing something sinister. I had perfected those movements over the years.

  “He’s right behind me, isn’t he?” I asked, letting out a slow breath.

  “Yes. He is,” Anubis growled.

  I turned to look up at him. He was a tall son of a bitch. Much taller than me. Which meant if I wanted to attempt a headbutt, I would get a face full of furry man chest. Still, I tried to make my look politely defiant. “I want to fix my mistake. Not out of any personal gain, but because it’s on my shoulders. My responsibility.”

  “I know it is. But you failed once already. And then failed again tonight.”

  I sighed angrily but nodded. “I know.”

  “I gave you every opportunity to prove yourself. Searched your bag
. Searched you. Even set it up for one of your friends to take your place as my guide. Why the sudden change of heart, if you’re so noble?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

  And he had done those things. I just hadn’t been willing to allow Talon or Carl to sacrifice themselves for me. Because my parents had reminded me that Temples paid their own debts. Always. I let out a breath. Like I’d shown humility to Alvara, I needed to show honesty to Anubis. “From the beginning, I was planning on finding a way to break out,” I admitted.

  He watched me, waiting. Then he gave me a respectful nod.

  “Was that you agreeing with me?” I asked, hopefully. “Because that would be super-duper—”

  He snorted. “That was me acknowledging your honor.” His gaze swept over his domain, as did one of his claws, as if needing to remind me of where we stood. “Although honor lives here – I run the place by it, after all – there is no hope here. Did you forget my sign out front? Abandon hope, all ye who enter here…”

  I slowly reached into my shirt to lift up my thick, braided silver necklace where he could see. I’d gotten rid of the leather cord, deciding it was too flimsy to risk wearing something so valuable, and upgraded to a solid, rope-like silver chain.

  To hold my Horseman’s Mask prominent. I was the Fifth Horseman – the Horseman of Hope.

  Because carrying an actual Mask around in a pocket was awkward, the Four Horsemen had all chosen a memento of some kind to conceal their Masks – Death had a scythe keychain, and War had a small amber plaque. I wasn’t entirely sure what Conquest and Famine disguised theirs as though.

  I’d chosen a silver coin. I could change it to other things if I really wanted, but anything other than a coin took a lot more effort – probably because a coin was what I had first chosen to conceal it. But I could change the type of coin, no problem. I’d been partial to a Silver Dollar, initially, but now had modified it to a Greek Drachma, for aesthetic reasons, and also a nod of respect to all my Greek allies.