by Gwenda Bond
They don’t know Callie has the other half. Interesting.
Callie clears her throat. “They still have their souls. He, uh, didn’t want them. Yet.”
The leader’s eyes narrow. She speaks to her squad. “It seems the Dark One has finally decided to start the endgame. There is no other reason an emissary would forego taking souls.”
Oh no. The screams of the damned echo in my ears. They’re about to escalate this situation all the way into Armageddon. It seems this evening truly wants to be the night the apocalypse begins.
I can’t make a peep to correct their misconception without ending up at the pointy end of one of their weapons.
“You search the house,” Saraya tells two of her people. “The site of their ritual will work for me to summon Michael. He will cleanse this place.”
Callie raises her hand, and the archer among them lifts his bow. Saraya waves for him to stand down. “What?” she asks Callie.
“What should we do?” Callie asks.
“Leave,” Saraya tells Callie. “Go back to your lives. Pray for our strength to combat evil. We’ll handle it.”
I expect Callie to argue, but she only nods. “All right,” she says.
Mag and Jared exchange a look that says they’re as surprised by that as I am. But I catch the gleam in Callie’s eye. She is fighting back, by keeping her secret.
I have mere seconds to pop outside before the guardians discover me. The front door is shutting behind Callie, Mag, and Jared when I reappear in front of them.
Callie sees me and her eyes widen.
I lift my finger to my lips. Shh.
And then I gesture for her to come with me.
Jared glances back at the door like he might summon the pale leather cavalry. But Callie is looking at me in something close to welcome. Her expression hardens a bit when she catches herself, but I saw it.
She keeps walking in my direction.
“This way,” I say, encouraged.
Jared asks, puzzled, “What was that back there? Some kind of interactive theater?”
“What’s his deal?” I ask Callie, gesturing to the woods.
She must be off-kilter in the worst way because she doesn’t argue, only shoves the grimoire into her bag with the spearhead and follows my demonic cue toward the wilderness.
“Jared doesn’t believe this is real,” she says and finally there’s some amusement in it. “Neither does Mag anymore. Not even after meeting the guardians, apparently.”
I walk faster, hoping they’ll follow suit. The woods will give us some cover from the archangel’s arrival, if we make it before he gets here.
We don’t.
A blast of white light with the intensity of a star flaring to life descends from above and into the house. Even a hundred feet away, we’re bathed in its unearthly glow. The humans cover their eyes. I stagger back at its intensity, but refuse to be entirely undignified and fall to my knees. It’s not an easy impulse to resist.
The light dissipates, but we’ve only got however long his visit is before it returns. “Let’s go,” I say and head into the cover of the trees.
“Was that…?” Callie asks, hesitating.
Jared and Mag stare back at the house, gaping, and they’re holding hands. An aluminum bat hangs from Jared’s other one.
“I’m guessing you believe Callie now,” I say to them. I answer Callie, “Yes, Michael’s here. We best get going.”
“The archangel Michael?” Callie asks.
“They report to him.” I nod. “Come on.”
“Wait,” she says, “maybe I should try to talk to him.”
“That’s not such a good idea.” I can only imagine how much worse hearing she’s not a guardian from him would be.
“Maybe you’re right.” She doesn’t sound sure. She turns to her best friend and her brother, presumably to get their opinions.
They’re still hand in hand.
I consider starting some sort of ridiculous interpretive dance or bathing us all in frost-filled darkness or anything that will keep her from seeing and understanding what she’s seeing. Once again, I’m too late.
Her eyes are trained on their linked hands. “Mag?” she asks with a blink. “Why are you holding Jared’s hand?”
They don’t let each other go. The relationship must be more advanced than I assumed. They both look at Callie and, if anything, Jared holds onto Mag’s fingers tighter.
“Don’t freak out,” Jared says. “We’re in love.”
“You’re in love. The two of you.” Callie sounds so calm. “Are in love.”
Mag wears a careful expression. “I knew you’d react like this.”
Honestly, Callie’s much calmer than I expected. She folds her arms. “How should I react?”
“I wanted to tell you,” Mag says with a pleading note that tells me the calm is actually the worst possible reaction. “I was going to tell you this weekend. You could be happy for us?”
“You’re in love with my older brother and you kept it a secret and I’m supposed to be happy for you?” Callie shakes her head like she’s trying to clear it.
“Yes,” Mag says.
“Is this night happening? Because now I think it might be a hallucination after all.” Callie is a tightly controlled bundle of betrayal. “I’m not happy, that’s the last thing I am.”
“Hey, sis,” Jared protests.
I look at him and put my fingers over my lips.
“First off,” Callie continues, “you’re already doubting your own eyes and ears and experience. You knew I was telling the truth, but after talking to Jared, you doubted yourself. You don’t doubt yourself. Ever.”
Mag’s mouth opens and closes. This has taken them by surprise.
“It’s not like that,” they say, finally. There is heat to it. “I can’t believe you just said that.”
Callie’s jaw clenches, but then she continues. “And number two, worst of all, you lied to me. I feel so stupid. How long have you been lying?”
Mag says nothing.
“And you,” Callie says to Jared, “you’re my brother and now you just stole my best friend.”
“I didn’t. Callie, come on, be reasonable.”
“I am. I’m saying how it is. Two people I trusted have been lying to me. I’m sure you’ll be happy together.” Callie sounds heartbroken amid her hurt and I feel for her, I do, but we need to get farther into the welcome cover of the forest. Before I can begin the process of urging her on, she shakes her head again. “Never mind. I have the rest of the Spear of Destiny to recover.” She swipes away a tear and takes a deep inhale and exhale. “You two go run the Great Escape. Hopefully Mom will never have to know about any of this.”
“Callie, we’re not leaving you here alone,” Mag says.
“What Mag said,” Jared adds. “And, sis, I’d never feel this way about you dating one of my friends. Just give it a minute. Adjust to the idea.”
Callie’s smile is filled with bitterness. “Go home. And I’m not alone. Luke, come on.”
She marches into the forest. I shrug at them. “You know it’s going to take longer than a minute for her to deal with this,” I say quietly.
Mag nods. “Yeah, I do. Maybe forever.”
“She’s not going to give up on doing this. You know that too.”
Mag and Jared exchange a look. Mag says, “I may not be thrilled with her right now, but if anything happens to her…”
“I’ll look after her,” I promise. Not that my promises hold much weight when they aren’t sealed with a bargain. But they don’t know that.
Jared still has Mag’s hand in his. “You really think this is okay?” he asks.
“Someone has to run the place or your mom will come home early,” Mag says. “This’ll give Callie time to cool down. I hope.”
This crisis averted—at least the crisis of losing Callie for good—I give them a half bow. “We’ll be back by tomorrow at the latest.”
“Wait,” Jared protests.
* * *
Callie stalks forward in silence. Branches scrape her arms and it’s as if she doesn’t even notice them. The matter I have to broach with her is delicate, to say the least, and though it can’t wait it also probably can’t withstand her current betrayed fury. I keep my peace. Let her be the first to speak.
After five minutes’ trek through the woods, Callie comes to an abrupt halt, turns, and stares at me. “I forgot to ask … Why are you still here?”
There are several reasons, but the biggest one is: you. Fear the guardians would crush your spirit. Fear I might actually never see you again. This is not a question I feel comfortable answering.
“What’d you think of the guardians?” I catch myself. “The other guardians, I mean.”
Callie is quiet for so long I don’t think she’ll answer.
“Like a bug on their windshield. So, if I wasn’t picked out in childhood that’s how it is? I just pretend I don’t know? Go back to doing nothing? I was right about needing to see Michael…” She gazes back the way we came, but she doesn’t move.
“I wouldn’t let it bother you,” I say. “You don’t need to petition Michael. What you need is to prove them wrong, show them up. Those guardians are practically salivating now that they think Rofocale is trying to start the apocalypse. Which means we’re the best chance of recovering the lance before—no pun intended—all hell breaks loose.”
“You’re asking me to trust you again.” She huffs a breath. “Not sure I can trust anyone again right now.”
“You can. Mag loves you. And you love them and Jared, whether you feel like it right now or not.”
Callie sighs. “I could’ve reacted better.”
“Yes.”
“But they could have told me.”
“Also yes.”
A wind whips through the treetops, and a few weak spring leaves give up the ghost and flutter down around us. The light of sunrise that filters through the trees might as well come straight from Heaven. Even I can appreciate its beauty.
And I’m going to take her as far from that as possible.
“Look, there’s only one way for me to get around not being able to tell where the cult is,” I say. “For me to help you find them and the lance again. I’ll need to use a tool that belongs to, ah, one of my superiors.”
It’s Father’s, but I’m not telling her that.
“What tool?” Callie asks.
“It’s a globe that can be used to locate anyone on Earth,” I say. “A sort of spy-globe called the World Watcher.”
“A spy-globe,” she says. “Is the idea you go look on it, then come back to me?”
This is such a bad idea. I should’ve known I’d end up pursuing it the second it occurred to me. The globe is Lucifer’s sole property. But aren’t I supposed to inherit it someday? I could go on my own but … I don’t want to. For all I know if I leave her here she marches back in and gets Michael to talk to her without cooking her eyeballs in the process and I don’t want that yet.
I still have time to get the cult’s souls. I don’t want the guardians to get away with treating her like that.
Silly, but there it is.
And not nearly as ridiculous as what I’m proposing. “It will save time if you come with me.”
“Spit it out, Luke.”
“We need to go home. To my home.”
Callie’s lovely mouth opens, closes, then opens again. “You want me to go to Hell!”
“You’ll be my very special, very secret guest.”
She stares at me for a long moment and I wait for her to say no. She’s only being sensible.
“Okay,” she says.
I can’t believe she agreed so easily. This plan will inevitably fall apart, but why bother fighting it when you’ve got stubborn people and demons to contend with, especially if one of them is your own self?
No use waiting now that I have the buy-in. We leave now or I sense it’s back to see-you-never.
“This way.” I lead her deeper and deeper into the wood, which grows darker, wilder, less beautiful and peaceful and worldly with each step.
Callie rubs her hands along her bare arms. She’s noticed the temperature drop. The thin places that serve as entrances from Earth to Hell don’t leak with heat. They are forgotten and dark. They are cold.
“I could warm you up.” I stop to make the offer, giving it my best purr.
She hesitates … briefly. “Don’t even think about it.”
I can guess by the way her pupils contract she’s thinking about it now. I’ll take it.
“Why can’t you just zap us there?” she asks.
“When we’ve been traveling that way, it’s unpleasant for you, yes?” I press aside a branch and gesture for her to pass before I release it. I wave a hand and make the air around her a fraction warmer. Not so she’ll object, but enough to make her more comfortable. A pity I can’t use the method I meant at first.
“Understatement,” Callie says.
“So,” I say, “the reason that mode is so unpleasant is because I was taking us through the kind of … outskirts, the borders … of Hell. We were passing close to the boundaries of its lands, through which we could easily travel to any spot on Earth. But we didn’t cross those boundaries.”
“Oh.” Callie breathes the word. “Now we will?”
“Yes, but using one of the Earthly entrances will allow us to journey into Hell without the same risks to you.” Only because I’m with her, but there’s no reason to spell that out. I’ve never been the best student of Hell’s rules, as Porsoth would tell you, and he’s not even the worst of the long-winded, often foul-smelling tutors in my past. But even I know something this basic. Humans with intact souls, particularly good ones, would experience a sudden journey of the zappity variety from the mortal plane into my father’s castle as death itself. When mortals visit and manage to leave, they follow specific rules.
Lucky for me, any wood or river or cave can lead back to a gate home, if you know how to follow it. After a few more minutes, like dark magic, the gate appears up ahead.
“We’re taking the path less chosen, you might say.” I watch a leopard slink through the foliage to my right, trailed by a wolf who nips at its shoulder. To my left is a lion.
Dante had some things right.
Callie spots the gate.
The entrance stretches high above us, almost disappearing into the canopy of trees, its dingy bones knit together with magic. Hanging in the center is a large horned demon’s skull, flanked by the bone-wings of a misshapen bat, the whole thing a mockery of an angel. Beneath it in curving words is a twist to the message that’s usually credited:
Abandon all heart, you who enter Hell.
“Enough with the platitudes,” she says. Before adding, “I’ll see you in Hell,” and striding forward.
My heart does that thing again, where I’m aware of its beating.
Dante also had some things wrong.
“I’ll be able to make you less noticeable,” I say, rushing to catch her, and my heart, that puzzling creature, now drums inside my chest as if I’m nervous. I suppose that means I am. “But try not to call attention to yourself. We need to get in and out as quietly as possible.”
I offer Callie my hand and to my surprise she takes it. There’s the slightest tremble when our fingers join.
“Don’t be afraid,” I say. “I’ll protect you.”
“Oh god,” she says, and I really should caution her about speaking so freely after we’re inside, “I actually found that comforting.”
I laugh and take a step. So does she. Well, the stepping part.
“Here we go,” I say. “Next stop, home sweet Hell.”
Behind us, the lion roars a farewell.
PART TWO
THE DESCENT
“Little Alice fell
d
w
n
the hOle,
bumped her head
and bruised her soul.”
ALICE’S ADVENTURES IN WONDERLAND, LEWIS CARROLL
Mephistopheles: That’s Lilith.
Faust: Who?
Mephistopheles: First wife to Adam.
Pay attention to her lovely hair,
The only adornment she need wear.
When she traps a young man in her snare,
She won’t soon let him from her care.
FAUST: THE FIRST PART OF THE TRAGEDY, GOETHE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CALLIE
A shockwave of heat slams into me when we hit the other side of the tall, creepy gate. I go from shivering to sweating in a few breaths.
Bless or curse my brain, it chooses to latch on to the fact that there’s a lion behind us.
My random recall ability and the fact I’ve read Dante kicks in. Otherwise my main reference point for what a lion sounds like involves the MGM credits lion and so I don’t think I’d immediately connect the dots and know: LION. BEHIND US.
But the Inferno starts with the Pilgrim encountering three beasts on a strange wooded slope: a leopard, a she-wolf, and a lion.
It seems they aren’t just literary symbols to argue over. They’re real. As real as the Hell we walk into.
“Don’t worry,” Luke says. “Growly back there won’t come in after us.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about.” I hold up a hand to silence his response so I can get a look at our surroundings.
Hell is a shadowed land under a roiling storm-gray sky. A strange palace sprawls some distance in front of us, the stones fashioned into the shape of a giant bare-limbed black tree. Thorn hedges with branches that look like bones protect it. At least, I hope they only look like bones.
They’re probably actual bones.
Everything in the landscape is in the same muted palette highlighted only by the occasional burst of orange-red flame. The rest is blackened, sharp, deadly.
But there is a dark beauty to this place. A designer’s eye I appreciate. It’s like visiting the biggest, most elaborate escape room of all time.
