You see, despite the lengthy drive time, this secret cellar door had one key perk: it allowed us to bypass a lot of bullshit. Which meant skipping over the Underworld and the many circles of Hell. Or something not-quite-awful, but definitely not on the bucket list, like a sojourn through the Fae Plains.
Instead, we had this tunnel, like a drug cartel’s secret escape route built to evade the DEA. Except, instead of leading us to safety and freedom, these narrow corridors promised only hardship. As well as the potential bonus of being left behind permanently.
The space was, however, lit by swanky glowing orbs of magical energy that brightened as you approached.
“This is all rather convenient for you guys,” I said.
“I’d agree, if any of these places were worth visiting.”
“So what’s stopping me and every other supernatural creature from getting a free ride down here?”
She stopped and looked over her shoulder. “Without a Realmfarer, the tunnel will vaporize you.”
I swallowed. “Impressive.”
“Checks and balances. Maybe the gods had a few things figured out before they killed themselves.”
I was thinking more along the lines of broken clocks being right twice a day, but her tone didn’t suggest that my commentary was required. So I switched tracks.
“How is Agonia going to fix our problems?” I’d stayed relatively quiet about this, despite it being a rather glaring issue. Doubts percolated about how the Weald or Agonia could possibly offer any help.
Then again, it wasn’t like our plate was overflowing with options. Above ground, I could pretty much sit in the loft and wait for Marrack’s moon-burned servants to kill me or the Order to tire of consorting with a demon.
The walls shook ominously, thin streams of dirt raining from the ceiling. A sobering reminder that, even in the belly of a mountain—or wherever we now were—safety existed nowhere.
Ruby’s strides lengthened, her gait quickening. “He’s aware.”
For someone taking a journey to the center of the Earth, I was missing a lot of information. Argos growled weakly as I hurried to keep up with Ruby. “What the hell does that mean?”
A vicious quake hit the tunnel, snuffing out the lights. I collided with the wall. She said, unperturbed by the disturbance, “Galleron.”
Like that name meant something to me. But I didn’t need a Realmfarer’s intuition to tell it meant a hell of a lot to her. Great. Another enemy to throw on the pile. The heap was getting crowded, that was for damn sure.
The magical orbs came back online, albeit burning duller. Ruby was already twenty yards ahead, ready for these minor warnings. I began to sprint, the tunnel threatening to crumble around me.
“Listen very carefully,” she called above the din, her voice unwavering, “as I enter, you grab my arm. Not before. Not after.”
“How many chances do we get at this?”
“No do-overs in life, Kalos.” Ruby had to scream to be heard. Against my better judgment, I looked over my shoulder. I caught an unwelcome glimpse of the closest ball of light being swallowed by a mountain of dirt.
Nothing like a little motivation to get me moving.
The tunnel branched, Ruby disappearing down the fork. A guide would’ve been nice, but I could complain about the quality of service later. Right now it was all I could do to keep up. I hoped she knew the way. Although it didn’t sound like she’d made any visits to the Weald after escaping.
It seemed to reason that, if this Galleron was monitoring the passageway with a friggin’ hawk eye, then this was likely the first time she’d returned. What was the point of being a Realmfarer if you didn’t actually travel between Realms?
That question was purely rhetorical. The collapsing world around me offered an unequivocal answer.
I dodged a falling rock, pressing my back flat against one of the walls. The glinting boulder, filled with gleaming ore, slammed against the ground and splintered.
“Kalos!”
Without time to pause and reflect on the near-miss, I followed Ruby’s yell. Up ahead, a dull, unnatural light streamed through the opening of a door. Even amidst the chaos, I could sense the utter hopelessness coming through the portal.
No wonder she didn’t bother to travel between worlds.
Her forearms were taut, veins popping out as she strained against the wood. “Damnit, run.”
I put my head down, breaking into as fast a sprint as I could muster. Everything ceded to the background, the only sound the rhythm of my heartbeat and footsteps.
Left.
Thump.
Right.
Thump.
“My arm. Now!” Ruby was beginning to slip inside, her free arm flailing for mine.
The tunnel shook and pulsated, rippling with a supernatural energy that wanted to keep me the hell out.
Her fingertips disappeared.
I ran faster and reached around the closing door, searching in the nothingness.
Our skin touched, and Ruby yanked me into the Weald as the tunnel collapsed, leaving us with no retreat.
25
The few stories I’d heard about the Weald of Centurions proved true. There was no sun down here, but the realm was lit by a strange sort of light diffusing through the gray sky. Although with no stars or universe above us, it felt like more of a ceiling.
Such were my thoughts as I hurtled through the air, landing next to Ruby in a pile of bone chips. Argos groaned, muttering curses and wishes about dying in peace.
Looking up, I watched as the rift where we had entered disappear into nothingness.
“Please tell me there’s another tunnel,” I said.
“Don’t worry.” Ruby brushed herself off and grabbed the shotgun from the bone meal. “If we die, it won’t matter anyway.”
A cursory glance around the spindly forest indicated that we hadn’t landed in a mere pile of bone chips. The entire ground consisted of smashed and charred fragments. Presumably all the visitors who didn’t make it. Given the uniformity of the “soil,” Ruby’s words were extra sobering.
“Let’s go.”
“A goddamn plan would be nice.” Look at me, suddenly concerned about logistics.
“Just do as I say.” Ruby took lead, into the forest. The sparse trees provided little cover. Shocking that burnt bone didn’t make for great fertilizer. “And don’t get left behind.”
Ruby’s route made no sense. But if the Weald’s guardians were all Realmfarers, it stood to reason that she was playing a complex brand of mental chess. Taking the routes that they least expected, avoiding the intuitive hive mind’s perfect path.
Or she was drunk. That also seemed plausible, given the wild zigzags.
Somewhere beyond the tree line came the roar of a large dog. Or what a large dog would sound like if it was hooked up to an amplifier.
I cleared my throat. Ruby didn’t stop but she said, “Cerberus is harmless.”
“Excuse me, did you just say—”
“Don’t worry. He remembers me.” She didn’t elaborate on either point. Fortunately, my soul was so blackened that fear wasn’t really part of my current emotional repertoire.
By some miracle, we emerged from the forest onto a pathway. Judging by the well-beaten grass, it was clearly the centurions’ patrol route of choice. Instead of crossing into the forest on the other side, Ruby settled in along the trail.
“A little bold, don’t you think?”
“You’ll have your chance to lead, Kalos.”
“Believe me, I’m looking forward to that.” My hair stood on end as I listened to the whispers of the forest. Could’ve been paranoia, though. After all, how could an entire legion of soldiers be entirely silent?
Ruby’s shotgun wasn’t even raised. This place was creepy as fuck, and all I wanted to do was leave. She
, on the other hand, had a level of familiar comfort here that explained the changes from the print shop girl I once knew.
And most of those rumors.
The road ended, leading us to a large clearing.
And Cerberus.
His grayed-over eyes stared blindly into the ether. Two of his noses twitched, processing our scent. A towering wooden gate stood behind the motley dog, flanked by a pair of stone guard towers.
There were no signs of life, other than the mythical beast.
Instead of a bark, the hellhound unleashed a throaty whine. Argos shook in my arms like he’d caught a chill. I leaned over, trying to hear if he was saying something. But the smaller dog was mostly asleep, the response fueled by instinct rather than consciousness.
The rusted steel chain lashing Cerberus to the wood rattled. But he wasn’t charging out to tear Ruby to shreds as she walked across the open space.
No. The great dog—more than two stories high and weighing as much as a handful of large trucks—was cowering, straining against his collar to get away from her. It pushed his mottled fur up around one of his necks, forming a pathetic, vaguely lion-esque mane.
“The fuck did you do to this thing?” I asked, catching whiffs of the three-headed dog’s foul breath as I followed Ruby.
“Judgment doesn’t really suit you.”
I didn’t know whether to be impressed or terrified. The stench of dead flesh radiated from the dog, its muzzles stained with dried blood, and yet he was willing to grant us a free pass into Agonia. Either there was a catch I hadn’t noticed, or Ruby was a little bit scarier than I’d thought.
Argos growled as we got within biting distance of Cerberus. The hellhound had zero interest in engaging us. But I’d known my friend for over three thousand years. He didn’t do doggie things, even asleep and at death’s door, unless the situation demanded it.
Slowly, I glanced upward, at the guard tower closest to our position. An average, nondescript looking fellow stared out from the stone window. His expression was stern, but not judgmental. His straight, strong posture gave him the aura of a man with a task to perform.
“I thought the tunnel collapse would be deterrent enough, Rebecca.”
She craned her neck toward the window. It didn’t take a Realmfarer to intuit the two shared a history. Given that the man was on the top floor, it stood to reason he was the head honcho around these parts. And since no one ever left the Weald, they’d no doubt met on her first traipse through these gray woods.
The two of them studied each other, unsure how to proceed after such a long time apart.
“I had no choice.” There was a hidden apology in Ruby’s tone.
“No one gets out twice.” The words were sad, not threatening.
“It’s good to see you, Galleron.” She drew down, blue lightning streaking from the shotgun before the conversation could continue. Light on his feet, Galleron dodged the shot, rolling out of view. Around us, I felt the Weald come alive.
“Uh, Ruby?” I turned back toward the forest, watching a legion of centurions—bronze blades, buffed armor, red plumed helmets—march in absolute lockstep from the ashen trees. If I didn’t know better, I’d have claimed they’d materialized from the bones.
From the way they moved, mechanical and lifeless, it certainly seemed like a possibility.
I shifted Argos’s weight to one arm and dug out my .45. A headshot to the first guy in the row didn’t even register. None of his comrades broke stride as they walked over his body. Just another pile of bone that would soon be reclaimed by the Weald.
The gun clicked empty sooner than I’d have liked. A second legion, as large as the first, emerged from the side on which Cerberus still cowered. The appearance of backup hadn’t stoked the large dog’s courage. After this performance, his spot on the team was probably in serious jeopardy.
As I dug into my pockets to reload, I yelled, “Maybe Galleron was right.”
“Desperate times,” Ruby said, her tone thoughtful and cool. My blood began running hot. There weren’t many souls to grab here in the Weald. Whoever these automatons had once been, their personalities and identities were subsumed by the goals of the legion.
It was more of a single beast, like Cerberus, than a collection of men.
My magic butted up against Ruby’s soul, feeling its blend of strange elements. The essence was familiar, but the other components felt like what magic must’ve been to a layperson: impossible, indecipherable, filled with wonder.
I heard her say, “You better get the fuck out of there, Kalos.”
So I stopped rooting around for souls and jammed some more bullets in the gun. The shotgun barked, bathing the gray sky of the Weald blue. A chain groaned and snapped. Before I could process the situation, the shotgun fired again.
Cerberus unleashed one of the worst, most hateful noises I’ve heard from a living creature. The ground trembled as he rushed past, charging at the centurions. However much he must’ve disliked Ruby, the loathing he carried for his masters was a sight to see. He collided with the first legion, his paws smashing the front row down into the dust.
For their part, the legion knelt down in unison and began lighting arrows. The aroma of burning pitch floated through the air.
“Kalos!”
I wheeled around to find Ruby standing at the wooden gate. A massive wooden bar kept us from getting inside—or anything out. It was at least fifteen feet off the ground, and looked to weigh close to a ton.
“Some magic would be good, now.”
I wasn’t sure that my soul could handle it. But maybe I could hold out just long enough. Closing my eyes, the fire in my veins ignited by the sounds of battle and the hellhound’s war cries, I searched for a fragment of a soul. About to snatch Argos’s, I found a fleeting hint of something strange out there in the Weald.
One vaguely like Ruby’s, but filled with melancholy.
Snapping off a small piece, I mixed it with the pitiful ashes of my own. Argos growled in my arms, almost as if he was fully healthy.
“I know, buddy.”
The fire erupted from my fingers like it had been shot from a flamethrower. Instead of ruining the wooden slab, my fury ignited the entire gate.
For the first time in many years, true light came to the Weald.
Courtesy of a demon.
Then everything went black.
26
“Wake up.” Water, cold and refreshing, splashed across my cheeks. My eyes fluttered open to the sound of birds humming in the trees. Brilliant light drifted through diorama-cut treetops. A perfect breeze topped it off, smelling of salt and coconut.
“You took me topside?” Smoke streamed off my fingers, my eyes ready to boil in their sockets.
“Easy there, pyro.” Ruby’s eyes narrowed. With a quick, practiced motion, the shotgun came up, aimed at my head. A surge of blue light sizzled past my ear, singing my hair. Involuntarily, and without warning, I froze her in place with a holding spell.
I didn’t even say the words. Just felt the threat and the anger. An instant thirst for retribution. Blue smoke drifted off the barrel, Ruby’s brown hair swaying in the perfect bayside breeze.
With a wary glance, I took stock of the situation. A pile of alligators lay smoldering up and down the scenic beach, their thick hides torn asunder by Ruby’s shots. Anger momentarily ceded control to reason, and I heard her exhale as I released the spell’s hold.
“Jesus Christ, Kalos.”
“This is Agonia.” A new rage simmered in my fingertips and nerve endings, but not directed toward her. I had banished Marrack here over a thousand years ago, condemning him to torment. And, really, I had sent him to a five-star beach resort.
Alligators not withstanding.
“Glad you could join us.” Ruby gave me an icy glare, her slate-gray eyes filled with distrust. Then she t
hrew the shotgun over her shoulder and walked a few paces up the beach, where the dog lay shivering on the sand. It seemed telling that she didn’t holster the gun as she bent down to pick him up with one arm.
Half the fur on his belly was missing, making him look like a sad, pink rat. He quivered when she handed him to me.
“I hope you can still fire that train stopper with one hand.” She tapped the .45 in my waistband with the shotgun’s stock.
The dog coughed and mumbled in my arms. The emptiness and anger subsided as I patted him on the ears. They flicked back, and he hacked, as if I’d brushed him with a cattle prod.
Without further comment, she brought the gun up to one eye and zapped another alligator down the beach. This time, my pulse barely rose. As the water dried on my skin, feeling sticky and slightly grainy, I began to realize that not all was right in paradise.
Not right at all.
As I followed Ruby up the idyllic shore, pistol ready to put down reptiles from the deep, I asked, “So what the hell are we doing here, anyway?”
She didn’t look back, as if to say remember what I told you about following my lead. That wasn’t really working with my current level of patience. Not to say I’d ever be fine being left in the dark in an alligator hellhole.
The heat increased with every step, and soon sweat poured down from my temples. I thought it was a side effect of the demonic overdrive, but I saw that Ruby’s oxford shirt was soaked straight through to the back. Even Argos used what little energy he had to pant in my arms.
Worse, the water drying on my face had begun to peel the skin, leaving what felt like an itchy rash. I scratched it with the tip of the .45, lacking any free hands, but it only made the burn worse. Thirsty and pissed off, I swerved toward the body of water a stone’s throw away.
The sand made it resemble an ocean, but the waves were more lake-like in appearance.
As I knelt on the wet sand and reached for the water, I spotted two evil, hungry eyes staring back in the crystal blue liquid. Razor teeth attached to an ugly jaw snapped at my hand. Luckily, I hadn’t dropped the .45.
Moon Burn (The Half-Demon Rogue Trilogy Book 3) Page 12
