The Ever Cruel Kingdom

by Rin Chupeco

  I closed my eyes, sucked in as much air as I could, and leaped one last time.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Lan at the Gates

  WE STOOD IN ANOTHER CAVE, before a massive set of doors hewn from the same kind of rock as the walls. A thick stone arch loomed over our heads. The grotesque statue was the next to catch my eye as my vision adapted to the darkness. It was carved on the right side of the gateway—it looked not unlike a galla, though the carving gave it more definition than their shadowy forms had in reality. Unusually, this one sported a beard made of lighter gray stones.

  Odessa drew in a sharp breath. “The galla of clarity,” she said. “‘A radiance at every door, the price for passage.’ That’s what was written on those shrine walls.”

  Soft curses and muttered exclamations filled the air as the others took stock of our surroundings and decided they didn’t like what they saw. I pushed against the doors, but they refused to budge. “Now what?” I muttered.

  “Now this.” Odessa pressed her hands against the frame, looking up at the towering stone galla. “Accept this gift, and grant us entrance.”

  The stones around the galla’s neck blazed a sudden blue. Odessa let out a soft, aching sound, like the wind had been knocked out of her. With a heavy grating noise, the doors slowly slid open, revealing another dark corridor beyond.

  Odessa staggered, the color rushing out of her face.

  I was already by her side, ready to physically carry her if that was necessary. Asteria was only half a step behind, her hand on her daughter’s elbow.

  “I’m fine,” Odessa said weakly. “It doesn’t hurt. I just went numb for a bit. But even that’s gone now.”

  “That’s the key,” Vanya whispered, somehow managing to sound excited still. “This is the real purpose of those galla’s gifts. To be able to access the Cruel Kingdom. It’s why every goddess loses these radiances after her twin is sacrificed. It’s always been a choice between facing Ereshkigal and giving up their sibling.”

  “Except the Devoted made the choices for them,” I muttered.

  There was a collective pause as it dawned on all of us just then that all the galla’s gifts that Odessa possessed would be gone by the time we reached the last gate. We should have expected that; we were rejecting the Cruel Kingdom’s terms, and therefore were forfeiting its benefits. We would be even more vulnerable at the end of this path.

  And it was always possible that I might not live past the seventh gate.

  I could see the thought on everyone’s minds, in the hardening of Odessa’s expression. “I never gave you up,” she said. “And so they have even less of a claim on you now.”

  “And if they try anyway?” I asked, because we could not afford to dismiss any possibilities at this point.

  It was Haidee who answered. “Then we’ll fight our way through,” she said, and the others rumbled their agreement. My chest tightened, gratitude and fear wrestling for space.

  “One gate down, six more to go,” Latona said grimly.

  To follow Inanna’s instructions, we had to leave a contingent behind to defend every gate. Each group was a balanced mix of experienced gunners, skilled infantry, and spell wielders; among the latter, a fair representation of fire-, water-, terra-, and air-gates. At least one healer was on hand in every contingent, and we’d chosen leaders who had enough authority and a good enough reputation among the factions that all would accept their command. The defense of the first gate was to be led by the Sidewinder and Dorca clans. “Don’t keep us waiting for too long,” Lars joked.

  “I don’t know how to thank you all,” Haidee said, a soft catch to her voice. “You left the safety of your clan territories to aid us. I can never—”

  “As far as I can see, Your Holiness, our territories will never be safe unless you goddesses emerge victorious here. I shall pray to the Good Mother to see us all out of here soon.”

  The ground rocked underneath us, and we scrambled for balance. The very earth seemed to shudder, heave up, and then shudder again, like a gigantic heartbeat. And then there were footsteps, I realized, of something very large headed our way.

  It was a galla, as tall as those Odessa and I had first glimpsed from the Spire, shadowed and forbidding; its beard glittered blue.

  Odessa cried out, shrinking back from the demon. “No! I refuse!”

  There was a reason why Inanna had instructed us to leave warriors at every gate.

  “That is your cue to leave,” Lars said sharply. “Quickly!”

  My heart in my throat, I could only clasp the man’s shoulder in gratitude and duck through the gate, where we found ourselves before the next portal.

  This and the third gate were dispensed with in the same manner; Odessa willingly gave up her gifts of courage and harvest, to a galla with a turban of jewels and another with beaded horns, respectively.

  Odessa had managed to get through the first two gates on her own, but her legs gave out by the third gate and I’d insisted on carrying Odessa on my back through every archway we passed through after that. It was taking her longer and longer to catch her breath, which was coming in shallow gulps. “Keep moving,” she whispered when I paused, wanting to stop and give her a few minutes’ rest.

  “But—”

  “This is supposed to happen. I’ll be all right. But we need to keep moving.” I reached out with my aether-gate and could feel the shadow in her heart, nearly double the size it was when we’d entered the portal. Awareness of it burned a hole in my back where her chest was pressed against me. “I’ll be fine, Lan. We can’t stop now. Everyone’s counting on us.”

  We dispatched the Ibex and Gila clans to defend the second gate, and the Pronghorn and Rockhopper tribes at the third doorway. “We will be very put out if you do not return,” Minh said, as now-familiar footsteps told us that another galla had come to take umbrage at our trespassing. “I do not expect to spend the rest of my life battling galla.”

  “I appreciate your putting your trust in our daughters,” Latona said, “when I have given you every reason not to over the years.”

  “They are more persuasive than I would have thought.” Minh drew out their sword, eyes flashing green. “Hurry now!”

  Gracea took up position by the fourth gate. Lights swiveled around her after Odessa had opened the doors, and the other fighters of Aranth opened their ice- and water-gates. “There is still much left unresolved between us, Tianlan,” she said severely. “We have not had the opportunity to converse at length, here in this desert.”

  I nodded. “We should have more than enough time to do so once we return.”

  A ghost of a grin stole across her face. “I hope that this time you will honor your promises, for a change.”

  “I will.” I turned to Sumiko. “Thank you for everything. More than you can ever know.”

  A roar sounded; a galla with a scepter of lapis lazuli lumbered into view.

  The other Catseye beamed at me. “It was my pleasure, Lady Tianlan. Guard Their Holinesses for us.”

  “Go!” Light sizzled from Gracea’s palm. Her aim was true; the galla howled, and we made our escape.

  “I’ll stay with them,” Vanya said after the fifth gate was opened. Lords Misha and Ivan were to defend it with the rest of the Silverguards.

  Lisette paused. “Vanya, you said that we would—”

  “I know, but I have to do this.” The boy’s eyes were pleading. “I need to reclaim my father’s honor. I need to reclaim my honor. I need to stay and fight with my people, too. Would you choose not to fight with the Addax clan?”

  Lisette paused, her eyes very soft. “No,” she said. She leaned over and gave him a quick, fleeting peck on the lips. “But I will be very cross with you if you die.”

  The boy blushed. He caught a Howler Misha tossed his way, saluted smartly at us, then turned to face the arriving demon as we went through the gate.

  “Well,” I said. “It’s about time you made a move.”

  Lisette lo
oked me steadily in the face, couldn’t keep up the pretense, and blushed even harder than Vanya.

  “I’m scared,” Imogen said as we approached the penultimate gate.

  “By all accounts you needn’t be,” Haidee assured her. “Vanya believes that the galla that attack here will not be as numerous as the ones above—”

  “No, I mean I’m afraid for you. For all of you.” Imogen was crying. “I’m so sorry. For what I said before. I didn’t mean it. You love Arjun just as much as we do. It wasn’t right for me to—”

  “It’s all right, Immie,” the goddess said hoarsely. “I’ve never held that against you. You had every reason to be angry.”

  “I wasn’t angry at you. Not truly. But what if you don’t come back? What if we’ve planned for everything and still fail?”

  “The best thing you can do for both Odessa and Haidee,” I said gently, “is to defend this gate to the best of your ability. Trust them to do what needs to be done, and know that they trust every one of you guarding these gates. Aeon is worth fighting for, don’t you think?”

  “You are all worth fighting for,” Asteria said quietly.

  “I am sorry that Asteria and I did not resolve this sooner,” Latona added soberly.

  “What’s done is done. I cannot condone the sins those before me have committed against you both, either. It is time that things must be set aright.” Tears prickled at the corners of Mother Salla’s eyes. Haidee’s cheeks were already wet.

  “I miss him so much,” she whispered.

  “I miss him, too. But Arjun wouldn’t have you crying when you’re this close, my girl. Do him proud.”

  “We need to go,” I said softly, as another roar echoed through the cavern. I felt Odessa tense up behind me.

  “Give Ereshkigal hell for him,” Kadmos added fiercely, cocking his Howler.

  My own trepidation grew as we approached the seventh gate. Despite all our planning, none of us knew how to get past the seventh gate without a sacrifice. I could die here. I could die in the next few minutes.

  I also knew that I would sacrifice myself in a heartbeat if that was the only option we had left, before Odessa or anyone else could stop me.

  My love’s hands tightened around my shoulder. Air patterns wrapped around us, pressing us closer together.

  “Do you know what Marianna did?” Odessa asked. “She bound herself to Dianae with a spell, so the bad guy couldn’t kill her knight without killing her—something she knew the villain didn’t want, as he planned to marry her.”

  “Odessa—”

  “I won’t let you go. I won’t.”

  But the final gate was unlike the others. There were no doors here. There was no grotesque galla carved over the entrance, either, waiting for its tithe of a radiance. All we could see through the opening was even more darkness.

  “I don’t know what this means,” Asteria said, sounding grim. “Odessa rejected the last galla. Will that prevent us from crossing through? Or has this gateway always been just so?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Latona said, examining the stone archway. “We can enter this gate without anything to stop us. If we are to sacrifice anything else, it will not be here.”

  I could feel Odessa sink down with relief by my side, though the Air patterns still swirled around us, keeping me by her side.

  “If we are to sacrifice anything else,” Haidee echoed, “it will be within Ereshkigal’s lair.”

  It was a reprieve of sorts. But that could change soon enough once we entered. What if there was a trap waiting on the other side, and this was to lull us into a false sense of security? What had Inanna and Ereshkigal done to get past that seventh gate? She’d already lost the love of her life. Had she given up something else? Too many questions, with no way of knowing the answers at this point. “Lisette, remain here and defend this gate with your clan anyway,” I instructed. “Sonfei, you and your people as well.”

  “No,” Sonfei said. “I will be accompanying you until the end.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Sonfei,” Asteria said sharply.

  “I am not ridiculous, though I am very much in love with you, which I admit is a different kind of foolishness. I will keep you within my sights from this point on. I told you as much last night. Or are you saying that you lied about what you said then?”

  Asteria colored. “You were always so impertinent. You’ve changed so much over the years, but that has clearly stayed the same.”

  “What has also stayed constant is my fidelity,” the man announced proudly, with no trace of shame, even as Asteria looked more and more horrified. “For over seventeen years I have not lain with anyone else, so strong was my admiration for you. Imagine my joy to learn you had done the same. Only last night did I—”

  “That is enough, Sonfei!” Asteria had grown scarlet with embarrassment, and her eyes were blazing with some other emotion I didn’t understand. “If you must come with us, then do so silently!” And with that, she stalked through the gate, like she would rather brave the dangers within than hear more. Latona followed her, bemused. “Stop that, Latona!” I heard Asteria say.

  “I said nothing, dear sister.”

  “I could hear you thinking.”

  “I’m going in with you as well,” I told Odessa.

  “It would be safer for you to wait here with the others.”

  “That’s not a guarantee.”

  “Lan—”

  “You know why I have to be there. Don’t fight me on this. If they’re going to kill me, they’ll do it just as easily here as they can past that gate. At least give me the chance to tell you goodbye.”

  Odessa had tears in her eyes, but she nodded, unable to say anything.

  “Take care of Sonfei’s men,” I told Lisette.

  She nodded. “And who will take care of you?”

  “I will,” Odessa said, and she sounded so sad.

  “She will,” I said, and accepted the inevitability, the possibility that she might not.

  “Lan.” The hardness hadn’t quite completely left Haidee yet. She was keeping that part of herself in reserve until the worst was over and she could finally mourn Arjun in her own time. But not even she could hide her worry.

  “I’m prepared to take the risk.”

  She looked like she was about to say something else, then changed her mind. She shook her head and sighed. “All right.”

  “She’s made her decision,” Odessa said softly. “And I’ll honor it.”

  I looked at her. She smiled and tugged me close to kiss. “I love you,” I whispered.

  “And I love you. Tell me again once this is over.” She let go of me, then reached out with her other hand and found her sister. “I’m ready.”

  “Let’s do it.”

  Together, they walked through the stark, forbidding gate after their mothers, and I followed.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The Twins in the Kingdom

  WE STOOD BEFORE A THRONE crudely hewn from rock, slicked in black ichor.

  The darkness hemmed us in from all sides, but strangely there was enough light to see by. It took several moments for me to realize the cause; the throne itself was glowing faintly, pulsing at intervals like it possessed its own heartbeat.

  Other strange creatures slinked through the shadows. They were shapeless, constantly shifting, but there was something about them that suggested they had once been human too, were trying to remember how.

  Something else loomed over the throne.

  It was a woman.

  It was not a woman.

  It had arms and legs.

  It had neither.

  It had a face.

  It had no face.

  It was hideous.

  It was beautiful.

  I remembered the cave painting, the massive void etched across the wall. I recalled how uneasy it had made us, though it was nothing more than a blob. The unknown artist must have seen it themselves, in order to portray even a sliver of how it truly loo
ked—it was everything and nothing all at once.

  It was smiling.

  It was smiling.

  Gems clustered around it, on it, within it, and yet the overall impression remained of a black, shapeless being. We could see nothing beyond it, as if the world had shrunk down until there was nothing left but this grotesque, living hole.

  There was an even darker chasm burrowed into its center; never fading, never healing. Like an incurable sickness hovering above its heart.

  It raged. It wanted. It hated. It yearned.

  It wanted us. It wanted our mothers. It wanted every goddess that had come before us, every goddess that had escaped its clutches by dying the way nature intended, instead of suffering under the endless torment it relished. It had claimed only half of those goddesses. Half was not a whole. It demanded both.

  It demanded Inanna.

  It demanded Inanna’s progeny.

  We heard shouts—from our mothers, we realized. From Latona, from Asteria.

  Fight it. Fight it!

  And we did. The world erupted back into light around us as we brought forth fires as blue as lapis lazuli, scorching the throne and whatever lay around it.

  The void struggled. It was angry, and its hatred was contagious. It stole over us like a dark fog, and we could feel grief, agony, rage. While its sister had found peace in death, it had remained in this never-ending limbo, deathless and dying at the same time. It hated its twin for abandoning it. It hated Inanna for never returning, and it saw Inanna in us.

  Its fury emboldened it. It hammered against us, our flames snuffed out as it gained the advantage. The darkness stole back in, entangling us, steeping us in its malice. We couldn’t move. We couldn’t breathe. Lethargy sunk into our minds, robbing us of thought, the will to push back. Sleep, a voice soothed. Let go.

  No more struggling. No more pain. No more sadness. The Above was a constant struggle full of strife and suffering. In the Below, we could finally rest.

  No! somebody screamed. And then warmth gathered at the back of our necks, Aether patterns spiraling through the darkness to settle everywhere, newfound strength blooming within us, shaking us free. We clung to it, and our fires burned hotter.