by Ali Cross
And the knowledge that the betrayal had been mine.
All mine.
chapter forty-one
Michael
I stared at my hands in disbelief as Desi became a memory between one blink and the next. I felt as though I’d held her heart in my hands and I’d watched it turn to ice. And crushed it to dust.
Or had she crushed mine?
But it wasn’t her, I knew it wasn’t.
I saw the serpent twisting over her heart. I knew all too well what that meant. I felt the pull of this place, like the very ground grasped at my feet, my hands, my heart and mind. It felt like a cancer that wouldn’t stop until I lay demolished in its fist.
Taking a deep breath, I forced my sorrow to a dark corner of my mind and faced the river. Suddenly those boulders seemed like a great idea.
The lava-water-liquid-ice crept past the rocky shore like grasping fingers. I decided not to think about it.
The first boulder, a slab-like monstrosity, rose out of the water about ten feet from the shore. I dared not call upon my Halo in this place—the magic of Helheimer drained my strength like a vampire sucks blood. I leaped and landed solidly, placing my hand flat on the surface. I snatched it back with a hiss—the surface burned as truly as any fire.
While I crouched low on the rock and took stock of the next boulder, the “water” splashed beside me. When I looked I saw nothing different than what I’d seen before—lumpy, swirling, thick-looking water that seemed halfway between lava and blood.
The next boulder would be much harder to reach. It rose from the river almost like an obelisk and loomed from the sludge about twelve feet away from where I currently crouched. I stood, backed up as far as I could, and took a deep breath through pursed lips. The air tasted of sulphur, coating my tongue and making it hard to breathe.
I backed up to the edge of the stone. Rubbed my hands on my thighs and wished. But there were far too many wishes for me to voice and so I offered a prayer to Odin and hoped I had not fallen too far for my king to hear me. When I opened my eyes, I saw a handful of the damned had come to the water’s edge on the other side. They reached out to me, their mouths agape. I remembered Desi called them the wanters and needers. It made sense to me now. I shuddered to see their soulless eyes—such a tragic end to my Asgardian brothers and sisters.
One moved forward, his feet stepping into the water. For an instant I thought I knew him, thought he knew me. I stood up, trying to get a better look. He moved deeper into the water, his arms outstretched. An inexplicable sense of dread ignited within me.
“Wait!” I called out—but of course he was oblivious to my words. And what danger could lurk here for those who were already sentenced to eternity?
But even before the sound of my voice had stopped bouncing off the side of the mountain, a creature flew out of the water. It looked like a stingray, but its fins appeared to be razor sharp, its skin translucent red. The creature latched onto the man’s chest and clung to him there. Licks of flame crawled over its surface, burning away the man’s flesh. He did not cry out, though his mouth opened wide—in horror or pain I did not know.
When the creature’s body filled with a black, smoky substance, I understood.
This was a soul eater. Monsters much like it lived in the darkness of space, feeding upon Ascended Ones who failed to protect themselves. They are a rare creature there—but this . . . I’d never heard of such a thing. A soul eater of the damned. A fate far worse even than Hell itself.
In the seconds it took me to realize the nature of this creature, the man I thought I knew burst into a thousand particles of dust. The soul eater’s skin pulsated a deep burgundy color as it delved beneath the surface of the river.
Cold dread filled my veins. I had to get out of here.
I stood, prepared myself as best I could.
And then I leapt.
chapter forty-two
Desi
I stumbled out the Door, falling onto my hands and knees in the rubble. My eyes fell on the toes of a pair of pink sneakers. St. Mary’s sweats. Hands hanging between her knees. Pale face beneath pale hair.
Miri.
I rocked back on my heels, then sat cross-legged right there in the midst of all the mess. Miri watched me, sitting on a tumble of rocks.
“How long have you been there?” I asked when the silence stretched on a beat too long.
“A while,” she answered in a voice that sounded empty. Dead.
I swallowed, trying to work up some moisture in my mouth—I suddenly felt dry. Dry of everything, as empty as Miri. I desperately sought something to say, the right something to say, but came up empty.
“Are you all right?” I finally asked.
She shrugged. “Would you be?”
I watched her, trying to decipher what she wanted from me. “I guess not.”
“Where’s Michael?” she suddenly asked.
And I realized—I didn’t know. I’d left him there. Abandoned him. “I-I don’t know.”
“He’s still there.”
“I don’t know.”
Miri stood, brushed her pants off, swiped her hands together as if she were washing them of responsibility.
“What happened to you?” And I didn’t think she meant literally. Miri had always been perceptive, always had a way to cut right through to the heart of things. She asked so much more and I didn’t have anything to give.
“I don’t know,” I said again. Because I didn’t know. I didn’t know anything.
She stared at me for a minute, sizing me up, judging me. Dismissing me. Miri turned away and climbed over the rocks toward the entrance.
“Wait.” I got up and hurried after her. “Where’s James? And—the others?”
Miri stopped. Over her shoulder she said, “Cornelius and Longinus are at the cathedral. There was supposed to be a funeral today.” She snorted. “You can pretty much guess how that went.” She turned and left the crypt. I stumbled out to the cemetery and called out to her again.
“But where’s James?” Sudden fear gripped my throat, choking me, suffocating me.
“James and I split up where we thought you might come out—I got this one. He got the bridge.”
A wave of relief washed over me. The Door at the bridge. Surely Heimdall would have already closed that one. James’d be okay, then. “And Knowles?”
Miri turned all the way around to look me square in the eye. “He went to find you. To rescue you.”
She watched me, waiting for . . . something. For me to break down in tears. To beg forgiveness. To be human.
She walked away. I watched while she pulled out her cell phone and made a call—probably to James. She didn’t look back.
I didn’t know what to do, where to go. I felt empty of all belonging. I didn’t belong to Father. I didn’t belong to Odin. I didn’t belong to Miri, or Cornelius or Longinus or James. And I certainly didn’t belong to Michael.
I sat on the bench facing the little stone angel that had gotten me through so many moments of helplessness. But this time I drew no comfort from the statue. It was just stone with a heart as empty as my own.
Against all odds, Michael had come back to me. He’d beaten Father, cleared the darkness from his soul. He’d still wanted me. Still loved me.
Father had been proven to be even more vicious, even more of a liar than I thought him to be.
And me? I’d ended up being what I always thought I was.
“Desolation?”
I whipped around, standing and drawing my shadow-self to the ready all in one fluid motion. But it was only a girl—well, not just any girl. Vamp-Girl.
“It’s Taige. Remember me?” She stepped out from the shadows of the path and joined me beneath the gaze of the stone angel.
“What do you want?” I let my Shadow fade into the darkening day. I sat down on the bench, not caring if she saw weakness in me. I didn’t care about any of it anymore.
“Well, I—” She stumbled over her words, bu
t then seemed to gather her courage from somewhere. She drew herself up so she stood tall in front of me. Man the girl had balls. Father would have liked a daughter like her, for sure.
“Eleon gave this to me before he-he did what he did to Mir—Mrs. Carr.” She opened her palm and showed me the heavy ring that sat there. I looked at it. Looked at her.
I didn’t say anything, but I’m pretty sure my expression said, So? Get the hell on with it. I said, “Where’s Eleon now?”
Taige closed her fist around the ring and presumed to sit beside me. Like I said, she had balls. But I was beyond caring, so I guess it didn’t matter anymore.
“Father Cornelius exorcised him.”
I stared at her, uncomprehending. “Exorcised him?”
“Yep.” Her face broke into a smile—the first one I’d ever seen on her face. If it hadn’t been for the sharpened teeth and over-abundant use of pale powder and kohl, she’d be beautiful. “It was pretty freakin’ awesome.
“His boyfriend—you know? The one with the sexy scars on his face? He held Mrs. Carr down while Father Cornelius sprinkled Holy Water on her, gesticulated and said some stuff in Latin or something. You shoulda seen it. Mrs. Carr came off the grass—like, levitated—just like in that movie. You know, The Exorcist?”
I stared at her, saying nothing. Giving nothing away.
“Anyway, her mouth opened like way bigger than it should have—like her jaw dislocated, ya know?”
My stomach churned and I thought of Miri. She’d been there. She’d seen all of that. She’d felt it all.
“And out of her mouth flew this huge bird-like thing! Father Cornelius threw some more Holy Water on it—that was Eleon, wasn’t it?” She stopped and waited a beat for me to confirm her suspicion, but I didn’t answer and she didn’t wait for it, after all.
“He threw the water on Eleon—the giant bird thing—in the shape of the cross and it just just burst into a million spiders. Oh man, everyone was freaking out! They went crazy—screaming and crying and—it was freakin’ awesome.”
She finally stopped talking, her dark eyes sparkling in the twilight.
“You shoulda been there.”
Yep. I should have been there. But I wasn’t. I’d been doing nothing. I’d been nowhere. I didn’t save Mir’s mom. I didn’t save Michael. I’d abandoned them both.
“Anyway.” Taige cleared her throat.
“This was Eleon’s—though he never wore it. I mean, he had it in this little pouch. He said I was supposed to give this to you if I saw you before he had a chance to get it back from me.” She held the ring between her thumb and forefinger.
I stared at it; sure it meant death to me. Sure it came from Father, the gift he had promised, and therefore was not any kind of good. Sure I didn’t want it.
But I found myself reaching for it anyway. I plucked it from between her fingers and gasped at the firey cold that bit my fingers and climbed up my skin, promising delicious destruction.
My hand began to shake, desire rising in me like a tide, like an overwhelming need to wear that ring. I turned it so I could see its face as I drew it toward my left ring finger. It was made of a heavy metal, so tarnished it looked nearly black. It was old, the etchings carved into the inside of the band—probably words in the Old Tongue—were illegible. On its face, a six-pointed star with six dots stared back at me. While I watched, it seemed as though the star turned.
I felt the mark over my heart flare to life, sending shivers of cold racing through my veins. It felt wonderful.
I slipped the ring onto my finger. For a moment it hung there, far too big for me. The mark over my heart turned faster, spinning faster and faster as it came to life sending a ribbon of ice-fire straight into my heart. While I watched, the star on the ring spun in time with the mark. The band became a serpent, stretching out, binding itself around my finger until it had wrapped itself around six times.
And then it stopped.
And I felt . . . Fantastic.
For the first time in all my life I felt whole. Undivided. I could leave the old me behind and with relief embrace the demon I am.
I am of one purpose.
I look at the girl, Taige, and see myself reflected in her eyes. My Shadow stretches behind me, barely shy of being fully corporeal. Taige sees it all and I know she glories in my presence.
She falls to her knees before me and it is perfect.
Because I am perfection.
I am Desolation.
chapter forty-three
Michael
Jagged shards of rock grazed me, cut me as I landed on the boulder, clinging to the peak with all my strength. The rock was slick with ice and much smaller than I thought it to be. The next boulder—easily another ten feet away—seemed an impossible task. There’d be no way I could leap from this rock to the next—there was simply no footing. I would have to swim.
Across from me, more of the damned had entered the water, undaunted from their need to reach me, for what purpose I could not guess. Horror filled my heart pushing out all other thought, making me a “needer” as surely as any of them. I needed to be free of this fear, free of this place, this place of no hope. I suppose that was what any of them needed, too.
The soul eaters devoured every soul that entered the water—the river riled with their frantic efforts to claim the next one. While I clung to the rock, feeling my energy slipping away, I watched a soul eater attack one of its kind, digging its double row of teeth into its flesh until it let go of the damned it had clung to. The attacker took its brother’s place and devoured what was left of the sorry soul.
A wave of four damned entered the water, rushing toward the soul eater and I wondered—perhaps the eaters were a source of relief for these sad souls. For certainly they were now free of their current endless torment.
I determined this moment to be the best chance I would have to cross the river. I could only hope there were no more soul eaters in these waters than those distracted by the coming flow of damned. I prayed that it would be so.
I pulled myself around the rock so I was on the side closest to my target. With great care I turned myself so my back was to the obelisk, my feet finding unsure purchase among the jagged peaks. With a prayer to Odin, and a plea of forgiveness to my friend Heimdall, I filled my mind’s eye with Desi’s face and plunged as far out in the water as I could.
I crashed through what felt like liquid fire—after a moment my body registered it wasn’t fire, but ice that stole my breath and attacked my limbs. I dove eight or so feet out, leaving only about two feet to reach my goal—but every stroke felt like swimming through molasses with the very water conspiring to drag me down. I fought for every inch of distance, oblivious to all else but my goal.
At long last my fingertips grazed the cold, icy surface of the boulder. If I hadn’t still been fighting for every gain, I’d have cried out with relief. But I wasn’t safe yet. Each stroke felt like it took all of me. Each stroke left me feeling like I could not move one more arm’s length. But then my fingers grasped the edge of the stone. And then I had my elbows on the relatively flat surface and I was hoisting myself up—so great was my joy that it wasn’t until I had hauled myself out of the water that I realized a soul eater clung to my leg.
I stared at it in disbelief, watching as it ate through my jeans, the fabric dissolving beneath its hungry teeth. My skin, pale from my sojourn in Hell gave away easily. I found myself strangely removed. I felt nothing but a faint waning of my strength—but I was already so exhausted. I found the idea of lying back and letting myself fall asleep to be a welcome relief.
And so I did.
I lay on my back and stared up at the burnished orange sky of Helheimer and thought of the one thing that was important enough to occupy my last thoughts. I thought of Desi. How she had grown up seeing this sky—never Remembering the golden sun of Asgard, the vibrant greens, the tiny blossoms of Lily of the Valley. I Remembered the first time I met her in our garden. Remembered her laugh
and the way her dark eyes sparkled when she looked on me. Her smile had been my only source of joy long before I gained the courage to greet her. And the feel of her hand in mine, of her lips on mine . . . I had beautiful memories to carry me into oblivion and I was not sorry for them.
I closed my eyes and felt myself melt away.
It surprised me when someone hoisted me onto their shoulder. Surprised me more when searing pain ripped through my leg. I think I screamed—from pain or regret, I couldn’t say.
I opened my eyes and found myself staring upside down at a wide black-jacketed back.
“Knowles?” I whispered, barely forcing the word through my burning throat. “Where’s Desi?”
He grimaced as he manhandled me into a standing position, his pale blue eyes alight with fierce determination.
“She is not here. We don’t have time. Can you stand?” He stared at me, urgency radiating from him in palpable waves. I tested my weight and found my right leg could withstand most of it. I could not feel my left leg and I did not care to think about it at that moment.
Knowles nodded, then turned me about. “Now, go!” He grabbed my shoulders and gave me a small shake, followed by a push. I stumbled forward, my arms wheeling—did he intend me to dive back into the water?
But on my second step, as I teetered on the very edge of the boulder, the air seemed to shred apart and a portal opened, revealing the many vibrant colors of the Bifrost. And there, standing before me, was my old friend Heimdall, reaching his giant hand toward me, beckoning me. And so I did. I fell into his arms, feeling relief wash through me anew, except this time it was not the false relief of being rid of my life, of my soul, but the true joy in discovering I wanted to live, after all. And that I would.
“Knowles!” I turned, pushing myself out of Heimdall’s embrace to reach for the man who had saved me, only to find him wrestling with a soul eater—wrestling, and losing. The creature already had a grasp on his shoulder, and though Knowles fought to remove it, I knew he would not succeed.
