by Erin Hayes
“Did you always have to deal with demonlings?”
I snort. “How else do you think I knew to hack off that demonling’s head and stick it outside the Door Stop?” Nury flinches but doesn’t respond, and I chuckle mirthlessly. “Yeah, I had to deal with them every time I went into the Door. They were always a constant threat.”
“Did they…hurt anyone?”
I know that Nury doesn’t mean anything by it, but I have to press my lips together and inhale slowly before I answer. “All the time. So many miners died out here.” I imagine their bones underneath the very ground we’re walking on, the flesh blown away by the endless hot winds and sand. I lost so many friends and colleagues out here.
I’m sure I lost parts of myself, too. I haven’t been innocent for a long time.
“Why’d they stop production?” Nury asks, his voice breaking into my thoughts. It’s only been about ten years since they had to stop, when I was around his age myself, but I guess if no one ever talked about it, then we’d all forget, wouldn’t we?
Has it really only been ten years since we lost electricity?
“As the natural gas dried up near the edges of civilization, we had to venture farther and farther into the Door in order to drill for more gas. By that point, it got too dangerous, so they were forced to close down the mine.”
“Too dangerous.”
My entire body stiffens at the memories. “Yeah,” I say. “We were attacked after venturing too far. When our horses were killed, the wildfires started, and none of us could outrun it with the curse and everything. And…I was the only survivor of my group.” I nod toward Nakir at the front of our group. “It’s why he approached me in the first place. I know the Door to Hell better than anyone alive.”
Nury blanches. “So you’re—”
I nod. “The sole survivor of my mining team.” I’ve spent my life wondering why I was the only one to survive.
“I’m so sorry,” he says honestly.
“Yes,” I murmur softly. “Me too.” I don’t deserve anyone’s sympathy for that. I was the lucky one. The one who made it back to tell so many widows, widowers, and families that their loved ones died. I made it back. Barely.
“And that’s before you opened the Lodge?” Nury asks, as if trying to steer the conversation back to something more palatable for the innocent.
I even chuckle at it. If he only knew that what happened at the Lodge afterward was worse. “I had originally become a miner to raise a dowry so I could marry Maysa,” I say softly. “Her father owned the Lodge before us, and there was never anyone good enough for her. So that’s why I took on such risky work. To earn approval in her father’s eyes.”
“And when they shut down the mine?”
“Well,” I say slowly, sifting through so many memories, “they gave me a large payout for being the only survivor. So I was able to impress Maysa’s father with it, and he allowed us to be married. None of us knew he was sick at that point.” My fingers tighten on Alion’s reins. “He died a year to the day after Maysa and I were married.”
“I’m sorry,” he says again.
“Don’t be.” Mainly because I have no idea how he could have done anything different about it. “It is what it is. It brought Maysa and me together.”
“And Jennet? How did you know Jennet before this?”
I look ahead at the witch who is talking in hushed whispers to her fellow witches. “She was my first love,” I murmur so softly, I doubt he can hear. I clear my throat, speaking a little louder with my next words. “The three of us grew up together. Maysa’s father ran the Lodge, and Jennet’s parents worked with mine for delivering supplies. So…we were the kids of colleagues, and while we were forced together, it ended up all right. Jennet was always the more adventurous of us. Maysa was gentler. And I was just along for the ride.”
I stroke the side of my jaw, feeling the stubble growing there. I remember the feel of Jennet’s lips against me, both as of this morning and from many years before. Jennet was my first kiss. Maysa was the one to have my heart.
And now, with all that’s been lost between us, I don’t know what to make of it.
“What happened between you and Jennet?” Nury asks.
Ah, so he did hear that part.
I snicker. “After her dad died, she disappeared. And I had no idea why or where she went to. Turns out, it was to become a witch.” I gesture toward her. “Up until a few days ago, I thought she had died.”
“Fatma told me about what it’s like to be a witch,” the younger man says, glancing up at the pack at the front. “They take you away from your tribe and assimilate you into theirs. It’s hard and—”
I nod. “I think that’s from centuries of being persecuted based on their beliefs.”
“But now, they could save us all.”
I catch Jennet’s gaze again, and her eyes crinkle at the corners as she gives me a small smile. A smile that’s meant for just me, one that we’ve shared since we were kids. I hadn’t realized that she felt that way still.
“Yes,” I whisper. “Yes, they could save us.”
Suddenly, Alion knickers and rears back, nearly toppling me off his back. Nury’s horse follows suit and cries. Unlike me, Nury falls off, landing in a heap on the ground as his horse runs back the way we came. In this environment, with everything at stake, we can consider the beast to be gone for good.
Shit. Fucking shit!
When the insane part of your mind comes unglued, you’ve really lost it.
The other horses are going crazy as well. I grit my teeth and look at the horizon.
“What is it?” Murat asks, his voice shrill. “What’s happening?”
Jennet cuts her questioning gaze over to Fatma, who shakes her head wildly as she attempts to control her horse. “No demonlings nearby! I don’t sense anything.”
No, this isn’t from demonlings. I know how horses act around them, and this is something different. Like they’re spooked from something bigger. I recognize it from an incident long ago when I was a miner. We barely made it to a Door Stop in time to save ourselves.
No. No. Please don’t let it be that.
The scent of fire and embers on the wind catches my nose, confirming what my eyes haven’t yet.
I tug on the reins and gallop forward to the edge of a hill to see for myself. I don’t have to get far, because as I round the top, I see the swirling masses of dark clouds rising from the desert into multiple tornadoes. Orange, red, and every color in between billows out from the cyclones, launching embers and fires out into the air to add to the chaos. Lightning crackles above from the friction the swirls are creating.
A firestorm. Rapidly ripping through the Door to Hell, like a demonling’s teeth tearing flesh from limb.
No wonder we haven’t see any demonlings. Those that we didn’t kill last night have been fried to a crisp.
We’re too far from a Door Stop, and I don’t even know if one would be enough to protect us from this deadly storm. It’s moving too fast. Hell, we didn’t even smell it until now because it’s moving so quickly.
So much for having an easier day.
I have to fight to maintain control of Alion as he tries to buck me off and run away from the storm. I know it’s futile, though. There’s nowhere we can run right now to get away from it. This firestorm will consume everything.
“What’s happening?” Nakir asks as he pulls up right beside me. I twist my head, glaring at him. The angel pales as he faces the maelstrom that’s heading our way.
His expression is the same as mine: we’re doomed.
“Can you use your sword to cut through the storm like you did last night?” I snap at him. “Or is that something you’re waiting to reveal to your third group of Halos?”
Nakir’s eyes narrow at me in a challenge. “Is there nowhere nearby?”
“Only choices are where you’d like to be cremated. Don’t think anyone will be coming to our funerals, though.”
Yeah, you
’ve fucking lost it.
The angel huffs a breath. “Sena!” he roars, turning around in his saddle. “Sena!”
At first, I want to yell at him that there’s no hope, but Sena streams past us on her mount, her wizened face set and determined. She waves her arm, yelling, “Everyone, come with me!”
But that’s toward the fiery inferno that’s headed our way. Which is more insane than me.
My mouth hangs open, the retort dead on my lips, as a second person joins her on this crazy charade.
Jennet.
The two witches run by Nakir and me, confronting the storm in what can only be called a suicide mission. What the hell are they supposed to do? I know that Sena’s power lies in her ability to keep fire at bay, but this is something else entirely.
This is madness.
Nakir gives me one more glance before heading off and following them. Everyone else has recovered from this crazy request, and they’re following in line. Like a bunch of lambs off to the slaughterhouse. Because that’s what going to happen.
The worst part is that there’s nothing I can do to protect Jennet. I’d been willing to throw everything away yesterday when I confronted the demonlings. But there had been the hope that we would somehow survive.
We won’t survive this.
“Rahym!” Emre shouts as he passes me. Nury is riding behind him, as his horse has run off. “Come on!”
“Where?” I shout. “Where!”
Alion neighs unhappily as I follow everyone else, the last of our group to head out to a flat space that’s out in the open. We’re going to die. We’re going to be caught up in this and die, charred to a crisp.
“Tether your horses!” Nakir yells as he dismounts.
Tether them where? How? What the hell are we doing out there? We could be running away. But it seems like there’s nowhere that’s safe.
Big hands pull me off Alion as Emre takes a bandana and puts it over the horse’s eyes to keep him from seeing the fires around us. Dazedly, I watch as the others follow suit, covering their horses’ eyes and tethering them to fossilized husk of a tree that looks like it would crumble apart with any amount of pressure. If the horses want to get away, it won’t take much.
Luckily, they seem too spooked to be anything but docile.
But when my eyes fall on Sena and Jennet, everything else leaves me. I watch as the older witch stalks out to the edge of our little throng, and when she finds a spot, she kneels, gripping the sand within her clenched fists.
Jennet takes a spot next to her, gently putting a hand on Sena’s shoulder. There are a few words that are exchanged between the two of them, but I can’t hear it over the roar of the wildfires headed our way.
Are they attempting to hold the fire at bay? How? When we’re trying to battle a force of nature with rapidly depleting energy, we’re helpless.
“Rahym!” Nakir shouts. “Help us!”
I have to wrench my gaze away from what’s happening to look at him. For once, the angel looks frightened, as if this hadn’t been imagined in all his bravado and talk of being heroes and saving the world. No, I want to tell him. This is what our reality truly is.
I make my way over to the rest of the group, huddled by the horses.
“Hold this,” Nakir shouts as the roar grows around us. “Make sure we don’t lose any more horses!”
We’re about to die and he’s worried about losing the horses. The absurdity of it almost makes me laugh hysterically. The only thing keeping me from losing it is my worry about what’s happening to Jennet.
“What about—?” I turn to look at the two witches standing several yards in front of us, as if they’re our last beacon of hope. Impossible. There’s no way they can stop this. They seem like two fragile leaves about to blow away in the hot wind.
I lift my gaze up just in time to see the firestorm descend upon us, hitting the two of them first. I open my mouth to yell at Jennet to—what, exactly, I don’t even know—but the fire sucks all the oxygen out of my mouth, and my tongue burns along with the rest of me.
Someone’s screaming.
The horses are screaming and trying to pull away.
I’m screaming. And my eyes are squeezed shut as we’re all barbecued alive.
But death doesn’t come to me like I thought it would. Taking a tentative, shaky breath, I open my eyes.
We’re in the eye of the firestorm, in a kind of protective bubble that’s keeping the flames at bay. I watch as the fires swirl around us, unbearably hot. The thunder from the storm roars around us, splitting our eardrums and giving me this hollow feeling as my heart pounds in my chest.
We’re alive, somehow. And I see why.
Sena and Jennet take the brunt of it, their two forms shrouded in smoke and eye-watering ash. Sena’s yelling, her arms and legs buckling underneath her with exertion. I know she’s powerful and this is her specialty, but I doubt she’s combated fire like this. Jennet seems to attempt at shielding her with her body, but she’s struggling to stay upright herself.
How long do they have against the storm? How big is the storm?
They’re not going to hold out.
I don’t know what I’m doing, but my muscles move of their own accord.
“Nury!” I shout, and I thrust the reins into the other man’s hands. “Take Alion!”
I don’t wait for a verbal answer, but Nury’s fingers close around mine. His eyes are too wide, his skin too pallid. Like the rest of us. We’re powerless in the face of such tremendous power.
I may be powerless. I may just be a human and get in the way. But I know that if I don’t do anything, we’re going to die anyway. Might as well see if there’s anything I can do.
In a low crouch, I make my way to Jennet and Sena. Sena’s too lost in her own battle of pain and will, but Jennet’s eyes flick to me, questioning, begging me to go back with the others. “Rahym, you need to—”
“Can you take my strength?” I yell above the roar, cutting her off.
“What?”
“You can give someone your strength. Can you take mine and give it to Sena as well?”
She blinks. “I’ve never tri—”
I cup her cheek as she looks at me, her bottom lip trembling. Despite the death and destruction around us, she’s never looked as beautiful as she does right now when she truly believes that these may be our last moments together. “Take mine,” I say so that only she can hear. “Try.”
Her eyes flutter closed, and at first, I don’t feel anything other than the heat and the roar of the storm.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers suddenly.
I cry out in pain as it feels like my insides are being scooped out of me with a huge spoon, and I nearly crumble under the weakness that comes over me. Whenever I fall into hibernation, it’s a quick, gradual sensation without pain, but this is different. It feels like my very essence, what makes me me is being siphoned out of me.
I didn’t know what to expect. But this is something else entirely.
It takes all my mental energy to stay upright, and through my haze of pain, I see that Jennet’s eyes are open again, tears streaming down her face. I smirk, trying to remember what it was like when we were kids trying to battle the curse with playtime and stories.
With my thumb, I wipe away one tear. A shuddering breath escapes my lips, as I feel my reserves being nearly depleted. Jennet pulls away from me, breaking our contact, and a gasp of air fills my lungs as the feeling of being sucked out through my marrow stops. She turns back to the firestorm, her jaw set as she watches the storm.
I’m about to yell at the others to come over here and help, but both Sena and Jennet cry out at the same time. They both collapse to the ground, and I watch as the fire bursts through the protective barrier, first setting Sena alight, then snaking its way over to Jennet.
I try to stay awake, to pull them back from the brink.
But Jennet has taken most of my energy, and I stumble face first into the dirt.
You’ve failed.
Chapter 22
“—hym. Rahym.”
There’s a slap to my cheek. I guess whoever trying to wake me finally lost their patience.
I grimace and fight the person leaning over me. Aches explode all over my body in gauzy waves that I can’t quite process. It’s like I’m not currently in pain, but my body remembers it, and consciousness only brings it back into full light.
I don’t want to wake up. Because even if I’m not in agony, there’s one kind of pain that I don’t know if I can witness and survive.
Jennet. Please don’t be dead.
Both my subconscious and I seem to be on the same page as far as that. Jennet’s been one of the best parts of my life for past few days—hell, for my entire life—and I’ve only just reconnected with her only to fail her in her time of need.
I don’t want to wake up, because I know if I lost Jennet, I’d lose everything. Just when I was getting my footing back after everything that’s happened.
“Rahym, you need to wake up.”
It’s a man’s voice, and I grimace as I open my eyes. It’s Kerem, his stony face still as he regards me. There’s a sadness to his expression, like he’s afraid of me asking too many questions. I’ve had someone look at me like that before.
It was when I woke up after Maysa and Beste died.
No. No, it can’t be true.
My throat closes as I regard him silently, waiting for him to say something.
He sighs and sits back, wiping a hand through his hair that’s slick with sweat, like he’s been exerting himself. He healed me, which explains why I’m having dull aches instead of pain. I try to sit up but feel every part of me stretch and pull in weird ways. My clothes are singed and smell of burnt something.
“Finally,” Kerem mutters, more to himself than me. He turns away. “Nakir—he’s awake.”
I grimace as I finally pull myself into a sitting position. It’s nighttime, which means that we survived the firestorm and that our strength is replenished again.
We’re alive. My breath catches in my chest at the realization that it worked. We somehow came out of this crazy thing alive. Between the demonling attack and the wildfire, we’re at the end of our reserves, strength, and wit.
