Freya's Inferno (Winging It Book 1)

by Sonja Bair

  Jia followed the direction of my gaze. “Don’t be fooled by his age and mild looks. Meng was a fierce fighter in his time, and I’ll bet he still is. I made him zip tie his hands together. Handy thing, those zip ties. You can find them in any hardware store. But a better way to keep him quiet is to threaten his other half. And he knows that I really would kill her.”

  Meng looked small and defeated sitting on the ground. His eyes were cast down and a look of regret washed across his face. Without making eye contact, he spoke softly.

  “We have failed. Our daughter in spirit has turned to evil. I humbly apologize for...”

  “Shut up, old man. This is bigger than you now,” Jia shouted. She turned to him, still holding Wen. Jia was so angry that her accent became thicker than I had ever heard before, so thick, I had trouble understanding her. Her arm, pinning her old mentor against her chest, suddenly pressed down even further, causing Wen to inhale sharply. Jia was shaking so bad, I was afraid she would cut Wen, whether she meant to or not. She broke into a stream of furious Mandarin directed at Meng, who had no further reaction. He continued staring at the ground in sorrow.

  Jia broke off her bitter torrent of words and looked back at me, anger still clouding her face. The next words that she spoke were not at all what I expected.

  “Dante was expelled from his home in Florence because he disagreed with the leaders of the city, the Black Guelphs. In fact, Dante was part of the rival clan, the White Guelphs. White versus Black. Good versus evil. Simple, yes? Except think about the second part in each of the clans’ names. Guelph. Little more than one hundred years prior, these two enemies were part of the one family, but in Dante’s time, they were different sides of the same coin. The same is true with good and evil.”

  The anger that had taken over Jia’s whole body seemed to dissipate as she talked. She morphed into the role of teacher, her expression changing into one my own students probably dread—a teacher on a serious roll, expounding ad nauseam on a subject she is passionate about, no matter the students’ interest level. But I was interested in what she was saying; perhaps it would give me a clue about how to end this confrontation with a minimal amount of bloodshed. I remained perfectly still, plastic trash can lid still in hand, hoping not to break her lecture.

  “And because Dante was expelled from his home and because he was so enraged and dismal, he was able channel his anger and write one of the world’s greatest pieces of literature, The Inferno. A book which has lasted hundreds of years and still touches the soul of the reader. Before Qiang’s death, I thought it was just a metaphor. But now I know that the circles of Hell exist here on Earth. We create them for each other.” She looked at me expectantly, as if she wanted me to agree. I didn’t say anything because I was afraid of saying the wrong thing. But Jia continued to stare at me, waiting for my response. So I asked something that had been bothering me for awhile.

  “Okay, Jia. I agree: humans can be evil to each other. Hell can exist on Earth. But what’s your role in this? Are you Dante visiting the circles, or are you Virgil guiding me through the Hell, or do you see yourself as Satan, punishing people?”

  Jia looked at me and pursed her lips in disappointment. “Freya, you missed the point. This isn’t a fantasy. There is no God or Devil. There is no deity that will swoop down and save us. We are the sum total. We carry evil and good inside us. The Sun/Moon tribe is the proof, the Yin and Yang of humanity.” She gestured with the knife toward Wen. Wen cringed away and a small tear leaked out of her closed eyes. “And I used to be part of the perfect balance of humankind. But I lost half of myself. So now I’m not really human, am I?” She sighed and gave me a look full of put-upon patience. “So if you have to assign me a role in the Inferno, assign me the role of evil that is within all humans. In the Inferno, Satan isn’t even the big bad guy. He just committed the biggest sin and therefore is in the centermost pit of Hell. He weeps tears of ice for his crimes and beats his six wings in vain to escape his prison of ice.”

  She smiled at me, pleased at how her lecture was preceding. “Yes, Satan has wings. Now, do you wonder why you must be involved?”

  Frankly, I didn’t. But I wasn’t going to disagree with her at this point.

  “Sure. You are right, I must be involved. And you have me here, so why don’t you let Meng and Wen go? They don’t have to be here. This is between me and you.”

  “How do you still not understand, Freya?” She shook her head in frustration. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Meng slowly and steadily scoot close to Jia. Whatever his plan was, I wished him luck.

  “The greatest sin is treachery. Not just any kind of betrayal, but a betrayal against the systems that have raised us. These elders made me who I am. They shaped and changed me to fit the tribe’s needs. They made me part of something bigger and more important. But now, to complete my descent into Hell, I’m going to kill the greatest tribe leaders of our time. And you need to be part of this final Canto, the final part of the story.”

  I couldn’t wait any longer. Jia was off-the-deep-end crazy, and I was convinced at this point that she was going to kill Wen any second now. I jumped at her, plowing my shoulder up and under her arm, trying to break Wen loose. It was only the element of surprise that allowed me to break her grasp on Wen. As soon as the knife left her neck, Wen ducked down and under Jia’s arm, escaping the madwoman. She rushed to Meng, shouting his name.

  Jia and I struggled for the knife. It scraped against my cheek, drawing blood. With a burst of effort, I was able to switch my grip on her hand and press down on the space between her knuckles. I had originally learned the move from Alrik, who had used it on me when we were young to get me to drop his favorite action figure. I knew how much it hurt.

  Jia relented, releasing the weapon and tossing it to the side of the alley. It clattered on the ground. I dove for it, getting there before Jia did. My hand skidded across the rough pavement and my fingertips hit the handle. Elation rushed through me, getting stronger when I realized how well the knife fit in my hand. Leaping to my feet, I turned toward Jia. In the half-second that it took me to turn, I realized something puzzling: Jia hadn’t gone for the weapon. But at the end of that half-second, I realized why. Jia was standing in the same exact spot—but now she had a gun pointed at me. It looked like the same exact gun that she had before. How in the world... And then I realized my stupidity.

  When I locked Jia in the trunk, I had left the gun sitting on top of the Lincoln.

  My stomach fell to my shoes. I had successfully disarmed her of the knife, but now she had me cornered with a gun. Nobody expects a double cheat.

  “You have gotten in my way every time. I thought you were part of my descent, but you keep interrupting. Maybe I was wrong about you,” she said in a voice strangely void of emotion. Jia was motionless, but I was shaking like a leaf. “So I guess it’s time for you to make your own descent.”

  My eyelids squeezed tight on their own accord, my legs frozen in place. The gunshot exploded into the still night air. The noise ricocheted back and forth in the alley seemingly forever. The silence that followed somehow seemed equally loud.

  My first coherent thought was that being shot didn’t hurt as much as it should. The second thought was bafflement at the absolute lack of pain. I took a deep breath and opened my eyes. Meng was crumpled in a heap a few steps in front of me. His body was facing down, and his forehead touched the dirty pavement. His shoulder was cocked up, his hands were still bound together in the small of his back. His elbows were spread wide, one pointing down to the ground, the others pointing to the sky, almost as if he were bent in prayer. But he lay unmoving, not rising from his supplication.

  The dim, fluorescent light of the alley dyed the growing wet spot around Meng a dark grey, but the puddle was blood. He had taken the bullet meant for me.

  I jerked my gaze away from Meng. I didn’t know much about guns, but I knew they generally held more than one bullet. Jia was still standing in the same spot, the gun sti
ll pointing in my direction, but it was shaking now. She looked up from Meng, and our eyes met. Her voice shook in anger.

  “This isn’t right. Meng is so much better than you. He and Wen were to die last. The final circle of Hell is reserved for treason. The worst evil of mankind is to betray our leaders, our superiors. And you clearly are not superior to Meng.” She bent her arms so the gun rested against her chest and sighed. “But now balance must be restored.”

  I don’t know if Jia and I were connected in some mystical spiritual way or if I was beginning to understand her twisted logic, but in a flash, I knew her next action and then, consequentially, my next one. Moving faster than I knew was possible, I jumped to my feet and leaped over Meng’s still body. At the same time I watched, somehow in slow motion, as Jia pivoted away from me and turned to Wen, who was seated on the ground, her legs folded under her and her forehead bent to the pavement, very much reflecting Meng’s dying pose. Just as barrel of the gun lowered to point at Wen, I crashed into Jia. The gun went off, and then it went off again. This time, it was so much closer that the sound was deafening. There was only a ringing noise in ears and a lightning blast of pain that felt like it cracked my head open. This time, I was hurt. I collapsed, my diaphragm seizing up, not allowing me to take a breath. Intense fireworks of pain flashed in front of my eyes. Not that I had a choice, but I remained motionless, waiting for Jia’s next move. I prayed as hard as I could that Wen was motionless as well.

  The first noise to break through the ringing in my ears was a guttural howl. Then the wordless sound of fury stopped. And there was another crack of the gun. I heard Jia’s body slump to the ground.

  I carefully raised my head, pausing a couple of times to settle my stomach, which was desperate to unload itself both from the pain and the intense emotions from the last few minutes. When I was somewhat upright, I risked a look around. Jia was lying motionless on the ground after taking her own life. The gun was still in her hand, but she would never use it again. I looked away quickly. Death was not pretty.

  On the other side of me was Wen, staring into the sky in utter anguish. Her partner in all things and the future of her tribe lay dead around her. She fell face down on the pavement.

  I jumped up, my wobbly legs struggling to support my weight, and ran to her. The dead could take care of themselves for the time being. Wen needed help. I kneeled next to her, cradling her head in my lap.

  “Wen, are you okay?” Perhaps this wasn’t the best phrased question, but it was all I had at the moment.

  Wen’s voice came out thin and feeble. “How are you alive? How am I alive?”

  I smoothed the hair away from her face and gave a very weak smile. “I plant false memories, although usually not that fast or elaborate. I pushed a false memory on her that she shot us both. And because of that false memory, she thought her mission was complete and she killed herself. It was the best idea I could come up with at the moment.” And the cost of the false memory was the raging migraine pounding my head right then.

  Wen said something, but the words came out to weak to hear. I bent my ear close to her mouth and asked her to repeat it.

  “Forgive Jia and think well of her. If treachery is the greatest evil, then forgiveness is the greatest good,” she said.

  I sat upright, not knowing what to say. Wen may have accessed the greatest heights of human goodness, but I had not. Anger at the senseless deaths flowed like poison through my blood.

  She started to whisper again. I leaned my head back down to her mouth. “Jia once told me something her beloved Dante wrote. ‘Heaven wheels above you, displaying to you her eternal glories, and still your eyes are on the ground.’ Her Dante was right. Raise your eyes, Freya. Don’t let our mistakes weigh you down.”

  Again, I sat up, not knowing what to say. Wen’s words were mysterious and sounded ominous. I looked at her face. Her eyes were closed and a look of peace was settling into her features.

  “Wen! No! You can’t die now! Stay with me. We need your peace, your balance.”

  Wen smiled but didn’t open her eyes. Her voice was stronger this time. “Life is not living as half a human. I do not know how Jia could stand it. My Meng calls to me, and I will go to him.”

  There was a clatter at the end of the alley as a bunch of people came bustling into the small area; the gunshots must have attracted the attention I wished I’d had earlier. I turned toward them, tears in my eyes; they were too late. I looked down at Wen. Her face was set in a smile and I could feel her body relax beneath my hands. She was gone.

  “May heaven wheel around you now, Wen,” I whispered to her.

  Chapter 28

  Even though Joanne was off duty, she stayed by my side. I’m not sure if she was there because of her official role or because of our slowly growing friendship, probably both. In fact, she convinced the officer on duty that she would take me to the station in her car to spare me the squad car.

  All the police officers were truly nice. There never was any question of my innocence; Jia’s previous attacks and the clearly self-inflicted wounds saw to that. But it took several hours of explaining and several layers of police hierarchy before I could leave. I tried to keep the story as straightforward and close to the truth as possible, but without mentioning the whole supernatural side of it. My suggestion that Wen died of a heart attack was completely believable, and I had a feeling the coroner would find evidence of it as well. Her heart certainly had been broken. The only part that confused the officers was the timing of Jia’s suicide. Why had she killed herself before she got around to killing me? I shrugged at the question. Who can explain the mind of a crazed woman?

  When I got home, I ignored Alrik’s attempts to corner me and get me to talk. To avoid him, I beelined for the bathroom and turned on the shower as high and as hot as it could go. My pale Scandinavian skin was lobster-esque in a matter of moments, so I got out and wiped away the fog on the mirror. Dark circles had taken up residence under my eyes. My wet hair hung in snarls around my face and down past my shoulders. I could feel drops of water rolling down my back and the pounding headache still hammered inside my head, untouched by the pain pills I had bummed from Joanne at the police station. The memory of creating the trick image instantly brought the horror of the night home. I turned away from the mirror as my face scrunched up and instantly became splotchy with emotion. I sat down on the tile floor and tears started leaking out, then the sobs broke free. Much as I don’t like to admit it, under high stress, I’m a noisy crier. It doesn’t happen often, but when I seriously cry, I sound horrible. There is nothing ladylike about my emotion; it is all snorts and hiccups and blubbering.

  I felt arms circle around me from behind. Strong arms. Letting me cry, Alrik didn’t say anything. I half-turned and laid down in his lap, closing my eyes. He stroked my hair gently. It occurred to me that I probably was soaking his pants with my dripping hair, but he didn’t seem to mind.

  My crying slowed down, but my emotions were still raw and painful. The whole scenario seemed so pointless. Three—no four, including Qiang—people with beautiful souls were dead and the world was dimmer for their absence. How could this have been prevented?

  “Where did we go wrong, Alrik?” I asked with my eyes still closed. “What could we have done to prevent Jia from turning into a maniac and killing her own people?”

  “Nothing, Freya,” he said softly. “Humans are flawed. The Sun/Moon couples have the gift of partnership and wholeness, but in exchange, they carry the burden of knowing how incomplete and imperfect humans are by themselves. Jia was ripped in half, from the one extreme to the other. There was nothing we could have done to help her.”

  “But she felt this weird connection with me. Maybe I could have helped her regain her balance,” I said. My words came out muffled because I had turned my face into his pant leg, trying, unsuccessfully, to hide from the world.

  “Hmmm. Did you feel a connection to Jia? As soon as Qiang died, did you feel like you were now sharin
g the emotions and the strengths and weaknesses of Jia?” he asked.

  “No,” I told his pant leg.

  “Then you weren’t her other half. Stop trying to take responsibility for this, Freya. You can’t save the world. In fact, you are rather ridiculous and self-centered if you think you could be the savior to someone from halfway around the world who you met once before she went crazy.”

  I jerked up, starting to take offense at him calling me ridiculous and self-centered. But then I realized the wisdom in his words. Who was I to think that I could have saved Jia from herself? Maybe I needed to reframe my interpretation of the whole matter. I sighed, my chin dropping to my chest.

  “You don’t like it when I’m right, do you?” Alrik asked.

  I snapped my head to look at straight at him, ready to argue. But then I realized that he was right about me not liking it when he was right. This argument was becoming too cyclical. I let myself laugh at our shared ridiculousness and leaned in to give him a hug for being such a good friend. As I did, the motion became something else. My body subconsciously switched positions from a friendly hug to an embrace, but it didn’t stop there. I lifted my head so our faces were only inches apart, my fingers diving into his hair.

  Alrik’s face tilted down toward me and he pulled me up so I was pressed against his chest, my knees resting on top of his legs. His lips met mine and we seemed to melt against each other.

  A wave of tingling sensation washed over me. The tingles started in my chest and dropped lower. I felt his hand gently grab the back of one of my thighs and pull it around his torso so I was straddling him. During the motion, the towel slipped down, leaving my top half bare. I could feel the buttons of his shirt pressing into my chest and stomach. It was strangely sensual.

  Alrik groaned at the sensation The kiss deepened, our tongues meeting and gently touching. His hand drifted from my hair, down my back, and slowly curved past my hips and stopped to rest against the curve of my bottom. I hooked my feet behind his back and pressed my hips closer to him. There was another moan of pleasure. I’m not sure who it came from.