He had barely had time to take an inventory of the weapons he'd acquired from Squire's armory. The last time they had gone into battle together, the hobgoblin had been able to jump in and out of the Shadowpaths, bringing Octavian and his comrades whatever weapons they desired. It had been a massive boon, giving them the upper hand in that battle, but Squire claimed that sort of aid would be impossible on this journey, that he had no direct access to the Hell dimensions from the Shadowpaths, but Octavian suspected that this was a half-truth. It seemed illogical to think that the hobgoblin could not move from the paths to Hell — as if there were no shadows in the inferno from which he might emerge. No, Octavian thought perhaps it was only that Squire feared what might happen if he slipped into Hell from the Shadowpaths, feared that in doing so he might inadvertently show something in Hell the way out . . . and onto the paths.
For now, he chose not to push the issue. Instead, they were seeking another way in, taking the long way around. Squire intended for them to emerge in some other parallel dimension and then go from there into Hell. To do that, they needed a world with direct access to the demon dimensions, a doorway or portal that would allow them to enter directly, without using the Shadowpaths as a bridge between two worlds.
"Pete?" The hobgoblin had rushed ahead to catch up with Danny and now his voice drifted back to Octavian through the shadows. "You coming?"
Octavian glanced around. It had seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. He raised his hand and the cold blue magic that emanated from his fingers brightened, dispelling the deepest part of the darkness. Without Squire he would never find his way home, but he could at least keep himself from stepping off of the path. He thought of the Black Well they had passed and the way it had breathed and groaned. The noise it made would keep him from stumbling into one now that he knew what it was, but there were other things out there in the dark.
Something shifted off to his right and he turned to peer into the shadows. Other things, he thought again. It was as if he had summoned something just by thinking of it. But as he stood there, listening without breathing, he recognized the same feeling he'd had before — the sensation of being observed — and knew whatever was out there had been following them, just as he'd feared.
With a gesture, he ignited the shadows. The part of the darkness where he'd sensed that presence lit up with blue flames and Octavian gazed into the abyss. Nothing moved or breathed or fled, and the sensation of being observed vanished, yet he felt sure he had not imagined it.
"Show yourself!" he called.
He neither expected nor received a reply.
"Pete, come on!" Squire shouted back to him. "What are you doing?"
Octavian stared for another long moment into the dark as the shadows moved in, obliterating the illumination he had created. Then he tore himself away. Whatever was out there, it either feared them too much to attack or it would come for them eventually.
He nearly ran into Squire and Danny, who had backtracked to check on him.
"Don't be stupid," Squire said. "You wander off and I can't find you, that might be the last you see of any world."
"Sorry," Octavian replied. "Just thought I saw something."
Squire frowned.
"Like what?" Danny asked, Octavian's earlier antagonism apparently forgiven.
"Maybe nothing," Octavian replied.
"Let's hope so," Squire said. "But it won't matter in a second anyway. There's a place up ahead that's perfect for our needs. Exactly what I'm looking for. The shadows have a shitload of branches."
"What does that even mean?"
Squire sighed. He nudged Danny and the two of them started onward again, the sphere glowing as it drifted beside them. Octavian took one more glance off the path and then caught up to them, weapons weighing on him. The shadows were so quiet that he felt almost foolish carrying so many implements of war, but he knew the quiet would end soon enough.
The path forked once and then a second time, and Squire kept to the left at each of them. Time felt fluid on the paths but Octavian thought only a minute or two had passed before they came to a place where the sphere illuminated what seemed at first like a dead end. With a wave of his hand, Octavian made the sphere glow more brightly and he saw that instead of ending, the path had splintered into many narrow paths that stretched out into the swirling mists of darkness.
"Branches," Octavian said.
"Obviously," Squire replied.
Danny cleared his throat, a sound like a growl. "Now what?"
"Just follow me and stay close," Squire said. "When I tell you, make sure we're all in physical contact."
"You want us to hold hands?" Danny asked.
"My boot up your ass would do it, too, if you want to go with that option," Squire replied.
The devil surprised Octavian by laughing. Danny rolled his eyes and reached out with both hands, linking Squire to Octavian with a powerful grip. The strength in those hands could have crushed bones to powder but Danny took hold of them carefully, almost gingerly.
"Go on, then," he said.
Squire nodded and started off. Octavian stared downward, tried to keep the path beneath his feet in view, but the mist moved in and obscured it despite the light from the sphere. Then that light winked out and they were plunged into near total darkness. He summoned the magic that he'd used before, the blue light around his fingers, just in time to see his right hand — the one holding onto Danny — vanish into the shadows ahead. Squire and Danny were gone, as were the many branches underfoot. The darkness swirled around him and he paused, only to feel himself tugged forward.
Three more steps, and Octavian cursed aloud and threw his free hand up to shield his eyes from the abrupt daylight. Coming out of the dark, he had been unprepared and now he squinted against the bright sunshine and glanced around. They were in the cold shadows at the edge of a late autumn forest.
"Damn it, Squire, you could have warned me," he snapped.
"This ain't an exact science, pally," Squire muttered. "Time of day, weather, that kind of thing ain't part of the deal."
"It is beautiful, though," Danny said.
Octavian blinked, his eyes beginning to adjust, and glanced around. The kid — the devil — hadn't been exaggerating. They were in a field of knee-high yellow grass that stretched a hundred yards until it reached what appeared to be a sheer cliff that dropped away to an ocean of roiling whitecaps. Out to sea, dozens of rock formations rose from the water like stone towers. Some of them were crested with ice or snow. On one of the most distant towers, Octavian could make out the shape of an enormous house — a castle with smoke rising from its chimneys.
"What is this place?" he said, moving through the grass toward the cliff's edge. "I've never seen rock formations like this and I've wandered my world quite a bit."
"Somewhere else," Squire said.
Octavian shot him a dark look. "Yes, but where else? Don't you know anything about this dimension?"
While they paused to talk, Danny kept walking through the high grass toward the cliff's edge. He seemed mesmerized by the ocean and the stone towers and the plume of smoke that rose from that distant castle.
"I told you," Squire said. "It doesn't work like that. I've never been here before and we don't have time to play tourist."
"Check this out," Danny called to them.
Octavian and Squire exchanged a glance. For the first time since they had encountered him, Danny sounded almost like an ordinary young man. Squire had said he was in his early twenties, but Octavian had been focused on how unstable the devil had seemed, how depressed and unstable — distant and borderline psychotic.
Danny turned toward them, grinning an actual grin. "Guys, seriously. Check this out."
Grass rustling around them, they strode across the field toward him, then picked up the pace to catch up with him as he kept walking. Twenty yards from the edge of the cliff he stopped and pointed as they came abreast of him.
"Look down there."
She put the seal skin with a pile of others and then lay down a few feet from her companions, small perfect breasts gleaming wetly in the sunlight.
"I think she might be a little young for you, kid," Squire said, patting Danny on the back.
"No," the devil sputtered. "That's not what I . . . I just . . . I mean, this place is beautiful, right? Just smell the air —"
"Focus, Danny," Squire said, reaching up to tap him on the chest. If he could have reached the devil's chin, Octavian was sure he would have grabbed hold and forced Danny to lock eyes. "Can we get into Hell from this world?"
With one regretful glance back at the selkies — or whatever they were — Danny closed his eyes and frowned. With his wicked-looking horns, the innocent look of concentration seemed slightly absurd.
"He can sense the presence of Hell?" Octavian asked.
Squire gave a nod. "Sort of."
"It pulls at me," Danny said in a quiet growl. "Like it wants me. It gets stronger all the time."
Octavian said nothing. He had an idea by now of just how much Danny's struggle with his true nature had wreaked havoc on his heart and mind, and didn't want to make it any worse.
"No," Danny said. "Nothing here."
"Right," Squire replied. "Let's get going."
Wistful, Danny glanced back toward the stone towers and then down at the naked figures sunning themselves on the stone plateau above the whitecaps. With his horns and his red eyes and rough skin, he might well terrify them if he tried to speak to them. Octavian figured the very same thoughts must be in the kid's mind and he wanted to offer some reassurance. They had no way of knowing if this world even had a devil myth, if they would know what demons looked like or just think of Danny as different. These shapechangers were pretty different themselves.
"Do we have to?" Danny asked.
Squire patted his back. "For now, kid. But maybe you can come back. Find some sexy little sea lion to be your sweetie."
Octavian thought they were seals but didn't want to interrupt.
After a second, Danny sighed and gave them a wry glance, and then the three of them trudged back across the field to the shadows of the trees.
CHAPTER SEVEN
On and Off the Shadowpaths
Octavian stepped out from the deep shadow beneath a massive water tank on a rooftop in New York City. Squire and Danny followed him as he strode out to the edge of the roof, but once there, all he could do was stare.
"Holy shit," Squire muttered.
"It's New York, isn't it?" Danny asked.
"Lower Manhattan," Octavian said. "Or it used to be."
"Looks to me like the whole frickin' place is 'used to be,'" Squire replied.
They stood for a long minute in silence, just staring out at the other buildings and at the streets below — or where the streets had once been. Now they were canals. At some point in the history of this dimension, a cataclysm had taken place — earthquakes or melting polar ice caps or something — and Lower Manhattan had either sunken into the water or been flooded or both. Waves rolled through the canals that had once been broad avenues and narrow streets. Small boats with loud, buzzy motors that spewed black smoke churned the water, navigating by rusted street signs. Higher up, a network of bridges and ropes and planks connected building to building, some of them makeshift and others real works of architecture or engineering.
"Whatever happened here," Danny said, "it happened a long time ago."
Octavian gave a slow, sad nod. "Yet people still live here."
"What about it, kid?" Squire asked. "Anything?"
Danny closed his eyes and began to turn in a circle. After two revolutions, he lay his head back and turned his face upward as if toward the sun, but there were only clouds overhead.
"I don't feel that pull," he said, opening his eyes. "But I feel something. Not the Hell we want but something else — something cold and so far away that it almost doesn't feel real. And old."
Danny shivered, and it felt odd to Octavian, seeing the fear in the devil's eyes. Even with his horns and the savage sharpness of his teeth, he looked vulnerable.
"Can we go?" he asked. "I feel like if we stay it might . . ."
"Might what?" Octavian asked.
"Might notice me."
Danny didn't have to say any more than that. They turned and retraced their steps to the shadows beneath the water tank, joining hands without hesitation. It had become second nature to them now. They had visited half a dozen parallel dimensions already and none had provided Danny with the tug he sought.
As they entered the shadow beneath the tank, all of the light bled out of the world around them. Octavian's field of vision went gray and then they plunged into darkness once more. The three of them had developed a pattern by now and Squire paused to let their eyes adjust, even as Octavian summoned the same bright, floating sphere to illuminate their journey through the Shadowpaths.
They remained in that same small corner of the limbo of darkness, the juncture were the path splintered into dozens of narrow branches. One after another they had tried them without good fortune, but all they could do was continue.
"You ready?" Squire asked in the darkness.
Octavian grasped his hand and then reached out for Danny's. "Go."
Once again they were off, soldiering into the deeper darkness. The sphere winked out and the black mist swirled in front of Octavian's eyes and they strode a dozen steps until they emerged in a bright, moonlit forest, standing in the nighttime shadows of enormous evergreens.
"Wow," Danny said. "It's quiet, here."
Octavian knew what he meant — compared to several of the parallels they had visited, it was indeed quiet — but he could hear night birds calling and the breeze through the trees and the rush of a nearby river. The distant sound of a ringing bell reached him, a rich tinkling noise, but slow and leisurely. The air smelled faintly of oranges and for a moment Octavian allowed himself to wish things were different and that he could stay in this place. It felt peaceful to him.
The urge made him ashamed. His friends were in Hell and he wanted peace.
"Let's go," Octavian said.
But Danny had already set off through the trees, headed for the sound of the river.
"Wait up, kid," Squire called as they pursued him, pushing branches aside.
"Do you feel something?" Octavian asked. "Is there a doorway here?"
They found him at the edge of the trees, just a few feet from the riverbank. Danny stared along the water's path at an enormous waterfall.
"Danny —" Octavian began, faltering when he took a second look at the waterfall.
The river flowed upward, rising up to a rocky ledge at least a hundred feet high.
"Now there's something you don't see every day," Squire said.
"It's . . ." Danny began. Then he smiled and glanced at the hobgoblin. "I feel like I read this in a book. Or my mom read it to me when I was little. The Up-River."
The sound of the ringing bell grew louder and Octavian turned to scan the opposite bank of the river. Something moved in the shadows between trees and the ringing quickened. He caught a glimpse of the figure that darted from one tree to the next, hurrying on his way but aware of their presence and trying not to be seen. The little creature was low to the ground and swift, despite its waddling gait.
The thing did not carry a bell. It had arms and legs and
a head but its body was a bell, and as it waddled the clapper inside swung side to side. Ringing. A living bell.
"Danny?" Squire said. "Do you —"
"No," the devil said. "Not here."
"Then we should go," Octavian said.
"Shit, yeah. Y'think?" Squire replied. From the look in his eyes, it was clear that he had also seen the bizarre denizen of this strange wood.
Squire led the way. Danny was still mesmerized by the Up-River and when Octavian pulled him by the wrist, he came only reluctantly. The childlike wonder in Danny's expression changed him and for the first time Octavian saw the little boy he must once have been, before his true nature revealed itself. Before he had been left alone with his regret and self-loathing. Before he had begun to lose his mind.
"It's okay, kid," Octavian said, adopting Squire's use of the word. Danny might have been twenty-two but for the first time it seemed to fit him. "You can come back someday."
"I don't think so."
Octavian glanced at him as they pushed branches out of the way, plunging back into the forest.
"Why not?"
Danny would not meet his eyes. "I'm just not meant for a place like this."
They caught up with Squire, joined hands, and were back in the darkness before Octavian could think of a reply, and when he did he knew it was not something that would have offered any comfort. The only thing he could possibly have said that would have been true, the only honest response, would have been neither am I.
With a flourish of his hand, Octavian brought the sphere of light blazing back to life, casting its yellow light into the Shadowpaths. Squire stood staring at the ground, studying the many thin branches at their feet as he tried to determine their next move. Octavian took a breath and moved up beside him. They could not keep searching at random; he thought there must be some way to narrow their options.
A shudder ran up Octavian's back, skin prickling with the strange heat particular to being observed. Whatever had been stalking them through the darkness on their previous journeys through the Shadowpaths had returned.
"Squire?" Danny said, his voice floating in the shadows. His tone carried a warning.
King of Hell (The Shadow Saga) Page 10
