The translucent figures came upon the thick vegetation that bordered the Veil. The trek down the Edge of the World was as uneventful as the crossing of the Empty Land. It required repeated periods of rest, even hours of sleep, but this time, there were no bands of Hyr’rok’kin roaming about. There weren’t even any sentries. Fenrir had told Idonea that might be the case, for Hel’s arrogance also tended to be her undoing. It was unfathomable to the Goddess that any would disobey her edict and risk her wrath. So they had reached the Veil without incident.
But a new danger inhabited this strange world. The forest was dense and would slow their progress. Acid lurked in the water. And although there were no Hyr’rok’kin, many creatures lived within the Veil, creatures that could sense magical energy. The shriek of Reaper Shards could be heard off in the distance, the high/low tone unmistakable, causing Skye to start. She had to still the beating of her heart, for the monstrosities terrified her. By the looks on the faces of those around her, she was not the only one who feared the abominations.
“How do you feel?” Idonea asked Skye for the hundredth time.
“This is actually getting easier,” Skye said. “I feel like I’m hardly expending any effort. It’s almost like the magic is doing it on its own.”
That was both promising and worrisome to Idonea. She could feel the low thrumming of the power surrounding the girl, and it was indeed stable. Skye seemed to be reaching that tipping point that Isleif had described, which was a very good thing considering what she was about to do next.
“Can you make us ephemeral?” Idonea asked. “All of us?”
Skye considered the request. It should have been impossible, for the ephemeral spell was exponentially more difficult than the invisibility spell. But for whatever reason, the spell seemed not only possible, but almost inevitable.
“I can,” Skye said with growing certainty, “without a doubt.” She looked around, chewing her lip.
“What is it?”
“Well,” Skye began. “I’m not sure how I know this, but there is one problem.”
“What’s that?” Elyara said, stepping forward. Y’arren had briefed her explicitly on the benefits and dangers of Skye’s unique abilities.
“I can make everyone ephemeral,” Skye said, “and the spell will sustain itself until I remove it. But once I remove it…”
“You’re done,” Idonea said, reading the girl’s expression.
“Yes,” Skye said, unsure how that made her feel. She reminded herself that the sacrifice was for Raine, and any reluctance due to self-interest evaporated. But she was reluctant for other reasons as well. “Once I remove the spell, I will not be able to cast it again.”
Idonea sighed. That meant if they couldn’t sneak Raine out, they would have to materialize to fight, and they would be unable to hide themselves to escape.
“So it might be a one-way trip,” Feyden said, planting his translucent sword in the ground. “But I think we all knew that coming in.”
“Aye,” Lorifal said, “that we did.”
“We’ll fight,” Dagna said. “We’ll not leave Raine there.”
“And we’ll find your mother,” Elyara said, putting her hand on Idonea’s shoulder.
Bristol considered this new development. This had been a massive undertaking. They had prepared for every contingency, but had hoped to use none of them, thinking the Tavinter could get them in and out unseen and undetected. He admitted he had known in his heart that would not be the case. Dealing with Hyr’rok’kin was one thing; dealing with gods and demons another. He ran his fingers through his red hair.
“Well, if that’s the way it’s going to be, that’s the way it’s going to be.”
Idonea turned back to Skye. “Then cast the spell, and we can walk right through the Veil.”
The garden was dark, quiet, and peaceful, and Raine sat on the bench among the fluorescent flowers as a giant, glowing bee hovered near her. The bee was almost the size of a closed fist, but it was benign in its flight, interested only in the glowing pollen it harvested. It ignored the figure who watched it for a few moments, then drifted off in thought once more.
Surely her reprieve would not last much longer and Hel would return. She tried to enjoy what remained of her freedom, but it was difficult with the unknown sentence she faced. And although the length of time Hel was gone was a blessing, it was also unnerving, signifying that Hel’s wounds were deep and that Raine would surely pay for their infliction. Time was hard to judge in the Underworld. Even the subtle changes of dim light barely differentiated the night from the day. How long had Hel been gone? A week? Longer? And where was she?
Fenrir had once spoken of Ásgarðr to her. He spent very little time in that realm, by choice, and she had the impression he was not favored there. Conversely, and surprisingly, both his father and his sister were the Allfather’s favorites, and Fenrir speculated that this attention spoiled Hel as a child and contributed to her sinister development. Raine wondered if that was where Hel was now, somehow having worked her way back into her grandfather’s good graces. If so, that was probably where she went to lick her wounds, dreaming up ways to make Raine suffer.
Raine sighed and started to stand up, then stopped. She slowly sat back down, a strange look on her face. Her actions caught the attention of Feray, who watched her closely, and of Faen, who examined her expression at length. But the mortal did not move, simply sat there, staring at the offshoots of the Tree of Death, deep in thought.
Raine struggled to keep an impassive expression on her face. She spent most of her time in a dark, pensive mood, so that was the disposition she attempted to portray. But she had just felt something, something she had not felt in a very long time, something that was far closer than it should be, something that was like a ray of light piercing through the darkness of the Underworld.
She felt Skye.
The Veil was considerably easier to walk through in an ephemeral state, Idonea thought. And they did not have to worry about whether or not it was thin enough for flesh and blood to pass through. Before, they had spent days hacking their way through the thick vegetation, avoiding poisonous plants and vines that bled acid. Gigantic slugs, toads, ambulatory mushrooms, all had been perils they faced before. They had been attacked by Reaper Shards and even the Membrane itself.
But this time, they were able to walk unimpeded through the translucent world around them. It was truly the most monumental spell that Idonea had ever seen, and she was saddened to think she might never see it again. And she was daunted by the fact that she was going to have to try and match it to hold one of the most powerful gods in all the realms.
The forest thinned, then cleared as two enormous gates rose up from the ground. Even in their transparent state, Hel’s visage could be seen upon them, just below the inscription “where hope dies.” And although all knew that they and their companions were invisible and untouchable, many shivered as they walked through the fluid-like barrier. Feyden wondered how they were going to get back out if Skye could no longer cast the spell, for they did not open the outer gates, but merely moved through them.
“This is the black and red courtyard,” Feyden said to Skye. “It’s kind of hard to see right now because everything is see-thru, but these tiles are all black and red, as far as the eye can see.”
“I should like to see that in its normal state,” Skye said, “but not enough to release the spell.”
“I don’t blame you,” Feyden said, chuckling. “Let’s stay like this as long as possible. The true Gates to the Underworld are at the far side of this courtyard, and it is a very long walk.”
Raine napped, or at least pretended to nap, to calm the nervous energy that had taken over her being. She had not felt the presence again and desperately sought it, reaching out into the darkness. She was afraid that she had imagined it, a side-effect of the current tension threatening to overwhelm
her. It would be a cruel hoax of her mind to suggest salvation when her damnation was so near.
When she opened her eyes, it was to find Feray watching her intently, even more so than usual. She was going to have to do something to dissuade that attention. Since she had few weapons at her disposal, she was going to have to use the one that was most reliable. She threw her legs over the edge of the bed, then pulled her shirt over her head.
Feray’s eyes were magnetically drawn to the firm breasts and flat stomach. And when the Arlanian rose and dropped her pants to the floor, they went elsewhere with even less restraint. The mortal stretched, muscles bunched, flexed, then relaxed into gorgeous repose, then she padded across the floor barefoot and naked. She stepped down into the bath, the lovely, tight buttocks disappearing as she sat down waist-deep in the water.
“I want you to wash my back.”
Feray started, for it seemed the mortal was talking to her. The mortal never asked anyone to bathe her. In fact, she disliked for the handmaidens to even touch her, and Hel often had them bathe her under her watchful gaze, enjoying the Arlanian’s discomfort.
Raine looked over her shoulder, turning her violet eyes upon Hel’s familiar. “Aren’t you supposed to serve the Consort?”
This was tidy bit of reasoning and really all the encouragement Feray needed. She moved to the bath, removed her outer robe so that it would not get wet, then settled onto the ledge behind Raine. She lathered soap onto her hands, telling herself she would simply do the Arlanian’s bidding then continue with her duties.
But she had vastly underestimated the allure of that doomed people. As soon as her hands touched that soft, silky skin, she was lost to the sensation. The scent of the woman was exquisite, and her head lowered so that she could press her lips against the shoulder. The taste was irresistible, and she did not want to break contact with that skin ever again. She found herself pressing against the back, her breasts pressing against the strong muscles, her hands working their way around to the front, her legs shifting forward to press her core against the strength of that torso…
Feray leaped up out of the bath, pushing away from the mortal as if she had burned her. Hel would destroy her for such an act, even in its unconsummated state. She snatched her robe from the ground and fled from the room.
Raine picked up the soap and began to lather her hands.
“Guess I’ll just have to wash myself.”
The two elves, the dwarf, the two imperials, the mage, the Tavinter, and the two dragons in human form stood before the true Gates of the Underworld. Six had stood here before, accompanied by another Ancient Dragon who had destroyed the Scales of Light and Dark, and a Scinterian who had slain the dragon who awaited them.
“So this is where we will leave you,” Kylan said.
“Yes,” Idonea said. “If all goes well, then perhaps we will be able to sneak out the way we came in.”
Both Kylan and Drakar knew how unlikely that was going to be. Raine’s greatest ability was now her greatest detriment. Her immunity to magic meant that Skye could not simply walk into the Underworld, make her ephemeral, and walk back out. They were going to have to figure out how to get her free, and that probably meant fighting. The fact that they didn’t know where Talan was made it that much harder. The plan had been relatively simple up to this point. From here on out, it branched out into a thousand possibilities, some that were distinctly unpleasant.
“This gate was open before,” Idonea said. “Ragnar used the Scales of Light and Dark to pull it open in his attempt to bring back an age of darkness. Normally, only Hel has the power to open the gate, but Fenrir said that she needed Ragnar because she had lost the privilege.”
Feyden thought back to the Hyr’rok’kin army that had staged in the Empty Land, a million strong. “Apparently she has regained that privilege.”
“Yes.”
It had been predetermined that Kylan and Drakar would wait in the red and black courtyard, a vast space that lent itself to their size and ability to fly. They were prepared for anything that came back through the Gates, including their fleeing companions, and whatever might be chasing them.
Drakar hugged his sister, and then Kylan did the same.
“You bring your mother back safe,” the Ancient Dragon said.
Kylan and Drakar watched the band walk through the Gates in their ephemeral state when something occurred to Drakar. “If Hel is the only one who can open the Gates, what if they’re not open when they return?”
“I think the plan relies on Hel’s temper and her pride,” Kylan said. “She threatened the mortal realm if her edict was disobeyed. I don’t think she’ll wait long to carry out that threat.”
Raine moved back in the garden, now unencumbered by Feray’s constant vigilance. Faen had disappeared as well, so only the demon guards on the terrace leading to the throne room were anywhere near. She sat on the bench as she so often did, looking at the saplings but no longer seeing them. Time passed, the light changed, but she did not move. Her senses strained the darkness around her desperately seeking the connection she craved.
Skye stood a few feet from her, struggling to control her emotions. Everything on the quest up to this moment had been exciting, exhausting, and exhilarating, a cacophony of experiences drowning out the grief and yearning she felt for her friend. But now, all she felt was the longing to reach out and touch Raine. She looked around her, careful that she was not occupying space with anything else, then transitioned from ephemeral to invisible.
Raine felt her instantly. She sat upright, still, unable to believe what she was sensing.
“Skye?” she whispered softly.
“I’m here,” Skye whispered back.
The voice was at her right and Raine had to stop herself from reaching out and making her friend reappear instantly.
“We came for you,” Skye continued, “I am here with the others. Idonea, Feyden, Elyara, they are all here.”
This filled Raine with both joy and despair. She could not begin to hope that she might be freed.
“We just have to figure out how to get you through that throne room,” Skye began. “The other door is blocked, but the passageway on the other side of the great hall is lightly guarded.”
Raine’s hope rose, but just as quickly was dashed. “There is a problem. Here, I must show you.”
Raine stood up and glanced around the garden. She was still alone. She made her way to the stairs leading up to the bedchambers, then into the shrine room.
Skye let out a gasp. “Talan!”
“Yes,” Raine said, pressing her hand against the amber prison. “Hel encased her in the resin from the Tree of Death. It is unbreakable. She has been comatose this entire time.”
Skye looked up at the beautiful, silver-haired woman she had worshipped. The fiery red armor hugged her human form while gold eyes stared out lifelessly, a hand raised as if to ward off some unseen danger.
“Can you pull her from that prison?”
The idea excited Skye. “Yes, yes I think I can! But I’m going to have to fully materialize to do so.”
Skye appeared and Raine was so happy to see her young friend she hugged her tightly. Skye clung to her as well, holding her perhaps even longer than the Scinterian held her. Skye turned her attention back to the amber prison.
“I should be able to make the amber ephemeral, and we can reach in and pull her out.”
Raine readied herself to do so, and Skye laid her hands upon the smooth surface. She concentrated, but nothing happened.
“Hmm,” Skye said, concerned, “that didn’t do anything. My power might be waning.”
Disappointment rose in Raine’s throat like bile. “It might not be you,” Raine said. “Idonea was able to destroy only a very small strand of it. Not even I have any effect against it. Its power is something other than magic.”
“Then m
aybe I can make Talan ephemeral, and she will pass through the material.”
“Try that!” Raine said, trying to moderate the enthusiasm that another failure would crush.
Again Skye raised her hands, concentrating, and again nothing happened.
“Damn!” she said, striking her fists on the unyielding surface.
Raine had to turn away, her disappointment so bitter it was choking her. She felt hot tears gathering in her eyes.
“Skye, I cannot leave her.”
Skye was desperately trying to think. The prison was monolithic, too heavy for them to carry out or even dislodge from the stone wall. It seemed impossible that they would fail when they were so close to their goal.
“Maybe if we got you out,” Skye said, hating herself for the suggestion and knowing Raine’s response. “Maybe if you were free, we could regroup and come back again.”
Raine’s resignation was total. “I cannot leave her behind. Hel will kill her.”
“Yes, I will.”
Raine whirled around and snatched Skye to her, thrusting the girl behind her. Hel stood next to the amber prison, her expression as icy and volcanic as Raine had ever seen it. Her black robes flowed about her as Raine’s breath came out as ice. The emerald eyes glowed and seethed with the fury of a god who had been affronted and defied. The green eyes flicked to the figure Raine held so protectively behind her.
“Ah,” Hel said, smoothing her robes, “the one whom the sorceress would trade for you.”
Raine’s jaw clenched and Skye flinched. She had suspected as much of Ingrid.
“You’re a pretty thing,” Hel continued, “perhaps I will give you to my guards for their pleasure. Or better yet, I will add you to my collection,” she said with a nod towards Talan’s amber prison.
Raine slowly backed Skye from the room, keeping her behind her. She tried to think of anything with which she had to bargain. Hel had already been furious with her before; now her wrath was explosive.
“Your Majesty—”
“You will hold your tongue,” Hel said coldly, “until I make use of it later.” She turned back to Skye as she followed them.
The Goddess of the Underworld: The Chronicles of Arianthem VIII Page 17
