Cinderella's Inferno

by F. M. Boughan

  To our left, a row of men wept to have the whip cracked against their backs by horned beasts—no, demons, I will tell the truth of it and leave nothing behind—who paid us no mind, so intent were they on their deed. We passed quickly and, on our right, came next upon a row of gaunt bodies lining the bank of a stream. For a moment, I thought William might be able to drink, but as we drew closer, we saw that a white and gray mold grew along the bank, encrusting it and covering the eyes and noses of those who lay beside it.

  And when we’d left there, the air began to stink like an unemptied chamber pot, stronger and stronger until it became clear that the valley’s swampy fields weren’t filled with mud but refuse, filthy and covering the bodies of those trapped within the fetid ground.

  Shall I detail, then, the next valley and its perforated rocks? Protruding from man-sized holes within the rocky ground were the feet and legs of the dead. Flames danced upon their soles, around their heels and between their toes. They’d been planted upside-down like poles and since no other souls or guardians were around to see us pass, we made our way through that valley unimpeded too.

  In the next, we came upon bodies that had been unnaturally twisted so they always looked backwards, and the next, bodies so afflicted by plague that their skin sloughed off like the shed scales of a snake. They tore at their scabs with ragged fingernails, bled and oozed diseased fluids upon their neighbors, grooming themselves with the shrieks of creatures trapped in endless agony.

  And still, we proceeded.

  My mother never left my thoughts, and I searched every face we passed for a sign of her, even stepping closer to the debased as William and Cerberus continued onward, just to be sure.

  William, to his credit, did not complain, but I saw how his foot might stumble over this rock or that, how he might pause a little too long at times, a vacancy stealing across his features that startled me once or twice.

  On one occasion, we stopped for a moment’s rest on a crest between valleys, and I thought of my father. William must have seen my strange expression and—though we’d said little since our fight on the platform high above—hesitantly took my hand in his own. It felt cold and bony, and his skin was rough as crepe, but I could not deny the necessity of his touch, the reassuring sensation of something living while surrounded by the dead.

  “Where do you think your father went?” he asked.

  I shrugged and sighed. “I don’t know. There are many things he chooses not to share with me, and despite my having taken on his mantle these past few years, he still keeps secrets. I think he forgets sometimes that I’m no longer a child.”

  William laughed, but the sound lacked humor. “We have that in common.”

  “But your father trusted you, at least, to learn your family’s ways. Your heritage has never been denied to you, and you were trained in it.”

  “Yes,” William said, sighing. “Though the important difference here is that necromancy and witchcraft are forbidden, whereas my family’s heritage is a blessing of divine power and authority from heaven.”

  I paused. “Who is to say my powers aren’t granted by heaven also?” William raised one eyebrow and I sniffed. “God allows it and I use it for His glory, to bring safety to His people. I should say that makes it granted enough.”

  “I think you’ve tried to justify your actions so it seems that way. I’ve caught glimpses of that book you used. Its words are perversions of holy rites.”

  Anger pricked at the back of my neck once more. “Tread carefully, beloved.”

  He kissed my cheek and his lips, too, were cold. Cerberus barked at the gesture and squeezed between us so that both of our hands brushed against the hound’s back.

  “What I mean to say,” William continued, “is that it’s possible to take the wrong action for the right reason, or to act in such a way that harmful behavior benefits another.”

  “And is that so wrong?” I gestured around us. “Would you have me take the wrong actions for the wrong reasons and condemn me to an even deeper circle?”

  “The ends do not and cannot always justify the means to which they are reached,” he sighed. We grew silent once more and descended the rocky edge of the peak on which we’d sat, moving into the valley below. Finally, he spoke again, though his voice was softer this time and filled with a strange, sorrowful kindness. “But I also believe that the Lord looks at the heart. Compassion and mercy are no small things.”

  I took his point, as my father had spoken the same. I hoped it was true.

  The rocky path grew steeper and we found ourselves half stumbling, half sliding down until we reached the bottom. This valley was darker than the others, and as our eyes struggled to adjust to the dim light, the air grew thick with an acrid stench. I gagged and searched for the source. It wasn’t difficult, for the stink increased the closer we came to it—a sea of boiling pitch bubbled to our left. It reminded me of the boiling blood of the Styx, and absently I took a step toward it.

  “Look out!” William hissed and grabbed my shoulder, pulling me down behind one of the boulders at the base of the slope.

  “What?” I snapped, though I don’t know why I spoke to him with such rudeness. He pointed at the bank that ridged the boiling pitch. A demon, dark as the pitch, ran along the bank with wings extended. Over its shoulder it had slung one of hell’s damned, and held him with wicked, curved claws hooked through the back of his heels. When the demon reached the far edge of the sea, it swung the body over its head and hurled it toward the pitch. I thought the soul might have been unconscious or unaware of its fate—until it landed and the screams began.

  The poor soul sank into the caustic sea, steam rising from its cooking flesh. I thought for a moment he might escape by swimming to shore, when out of the shadows descended a horde of black-winged, sharp-toothed demons armed with pikes.

  They poked at the wretched soul, who tried to grasp hold of a pike without success, until he was entirely submerged and no longer struggled to rise above the surface. Cackles echoed throughout the rocky valley and those demons who had taken flight landed on the ground to bicker and fight amongst each other, now that their prey had been dealt with.

  More than one, however, stopped and sniffed the air, turning to face our hiding place.

  I stiffened. I had called a horde of demons before—unleashed them twice, in truth—but on neither occasion had I been strong enough to control them. I’d done more harm than good, unable to exert my will on so many at once.

  I had learned much in the two years since.

  “I’ll try to bring them under my influence,” I whispered to William. “If I can control the horde, I can make the way clear and we should be able to pass unimpeded.”

  William rolled his eyes. “Because that worked out so well before. I recall helping to clean up your mess the last time—last several times.”

  I whirled on him, hissing in low tones. “Do you think so little of me that I would offer if I thought the same might happen here? I’m stronger now.” We are stronger now, I wanted to say, but I could not bring the words to my lips. Our bond, which I thought so unbreakable only days before, now felt strained and unfamiliar.

  “You’re stronger, yes. I know that.” I believed him, but I also saw how his hand touched his medallion, rubbing the surface between two fingers. The worry that creased his brow. The way he glanced at his medallion and back at our enemies.

  “We need to go through them,” I said, gentler this time. “There’s no other way.”

  “I know,” he said. The silence stretched for a moment, and then, “Back in the forest, you chose Samia to use her talisman.”

  I felt a question coming, and something told me he wouldn’t accept a simple answer. “Yes, I did. It was too risky to have you do it. You’re royalty. Your kingdom needs you.”

  He nodded. “But together, we might have been more effective. Stronger. It’s my birthright to fight against darkness, Ellison. I need the practice now if I
’m going to be an effective leader.”

  “You need to survive to be an effective leader,” I said, placing my hand on his cheek. He was cold, so cold. “We have to ensure you leave this place alive and of sound mind.”

  He shook his head and smiled, sad and yet bold. A determination had entered his eyes, and before I realized his intent, he leaned forward to kiss my lips. Then he stood, fully visible to those malevolent villains.

  “Spawn of evil,” he called. I sucked air through my teeth in alarm.

  “William! Sit down! What are you doing?”

  He held out a flat palm as if to hold me back and shifted his gaze to the side without looking directly at my hiding place. Trust me, he mouthed, then stepped out from behind the rock. Demons of all shapes and sizes, with leathery gray or white or black skin, murmured at the sight and began to crawl toward him, their vicious claws clacking and scraping against stone, teeth chattering.

  And then William raised his medallion.

  All sound and motion ceased, as though the entire collective had taken the same breath—and then the chattering began again, different now.

  “A son of Adam.”

  “A child of light!”

  “How young he is.”

  “Such supple flesh.”

  “How dare he bring that here.”

  Oh, I was afraid. I was terrified. But if I revealed myself, I doomed us both.

  “Come no closer,” he said, and despite my fear, he spoke with such authority that anyone listening would surely know that this young man was not a simple traveler to this place. “I am a paladin, a Protector of Light, bound by birthright to hold back the forces of darkness on earth.”

  “But you are not on earth,” said one.

  “No, you are within,” said another.

  “I remember you,” said another still.

  My breath grew shallow, gooseflesh returning across my skin. I dared to peek around the stone and saw that the demons had formed a semi-circle around William, still blocking our way forward. They leaned toward him, but he held his talisman aloft and they seemed to fear moving too close or looking directly at it.

  I wondered how long it would take for them to realize that its holy power had faded, unlike Samia’s, which had held a muted glow throughout our journey save for the moment it blazed with a brilliant, holy light.

  I wondered how long it would take for William to notice.

  I wondered how long it would take for us to die.

  28

  The Bluff

  I glanced at Cerberus as William continued to entreat the demons in the Almighty’s name.

  “Can you carry us through?” I whispered, hoping and praying that he understood me. “If I climb on your back, can you grow, pick up William as we pass, and take us from this place? Or will the hordes descend on you, too?” I feared mostly that the winged ones might swoop and pluck me from the hound’s back, but with two extra jaws for Cerberus to snap and bite with, perhaps I worried needlessly.

  Cerberus sniffed and licked my hand, then rose, pawed the ground, and shivered from nose to tail.

  “You’ll do it, then?” He barked once, and my heart leaped into my throat thinking the demons may have heard it—but they did not advance. “On my signal,” I said, and placed my hands across his back in preparation to climb aboard, that we might be ready when the moment came. If the moment came. I still hoped that William’s ploy would work, but I had little faith to match it.

  “Do you think that you see me here, safe from all of hell’s tricks, without God’s will and favor?” William said. “Allow us to walk on, for it is heaven’s decree that I may rightly destroy any of your kind at my choosing.”

  They snarled and snapped, that pack of wild beasts, but when William feigned a step forward, they skittered back. Perhaps we would make our way through safely after all.

  “Ellison?” William called. “You can return to me now. They understand their place.”

  I doubted that very much but followed his instruction, stepping out from my hiding place behind the rocks. And then—oh, how unprepared was I—they all, the horde as one, surged forward with a guttural growl.

  “She!” said one.

  “We know her,” said another.

  “Spirit-rouser,” said another still. “She crushed the hearts of the Mistress’s children and trapped them under the earth. No fun above, no more sweet flesh to taste.”

  “She?”

  “Yes, she.”

  “Shall we show her what it feels like?”

  I reached William with Cerberus by my side, and though I held my head high and regarded the assembled host under hooded lids, my hands shook as I pressed them together. “William, I don’t think they intend to allow us to pass.”

  “Of course they do.” He swung his medallion in an arc, and though many cringed as they had before, I noted that some began to test its power. I had no doubt that many of these demons had been subject to my conjurings, and though they might have otherwise appreciated that I’d freed them for a time to wreak havoc on humankind, I had also brought them directly into the arms of the paladin warriors who had banished them back below the earth. And I didn’t imagine getting struck by holy fire was a pleasant experience.

  “Come through,” hissed a nearby monstrosity, who stepped aside and gestured through the crowd. As if attuned to its thoughts, the assembly parted and presented a clear path. In the distance, not too far, was a bridge which I assumed—and hoped, and prayed—led to the next valley, far away from this host. Could they follow us? Would they? Would there be more as we journeyed forward? We had no choice but to press on and learn for ourselves.

  William began to walk through the parted throng. I glanced at Cerberus to gauge his readiness, and his tail drooped between his legs, head hung low. He liked this near as much as I did, and probably trusted the demons about the same. As a guardian in the upper circles, he might know better than us who spoke truth and who might deceive.

  William’s pace increased, and he strode ahead with confidence. Mine increased in proportion to my worry as I felt the horde at our backs, pressing closer, testing the limits of William’s talisman.

  “They follow us,” I said in a lowered voice, hoping that he heard. “We need to move faster.”

  William frowned. “I can do this. Trust me.”

  “I do trust you, it’s just that … I’ve already explained.”

  William’s hard look bruised my heart. “You can’t always be the hero, Ellison. Let someone else take the credit for once.” Tears pricked my eyes at the harsh words, but deep within I acknowledged that I did try to fix things myself, always—but not here, had I? Samia’s actions saved us in the forest, and all three paladins had played important roles in crossing the blood river.

  Ah, but those had been my ideas. I didn’t require credit; my only desire was to find my mother and see us through.

  I said nothing in return, and instead followed behind with my heart in my throat, my legs wobbly and fists clenched tight. The demons hissed as we passed, some lunging to snap their jaws at me, others curling their dagger claws, but none broke the line. I tried not to pay attention as they jostled and shoved each other, scuffles breaking out between crowded villains who stepped on each other’s toes or wings or who knows what. As we approached a particularly disruptive scuffle in the crowd, William turned his head to speak to me over his shoulder, for Cerberus and I had fallen behind.

  “Looks like the bridge ahead slopes to take us down to the next valley—” But before he finished speaking, the scuffle grew rowdier. One of the demons must have shoved another with great force, for a small demon standing at the edge of the parted crowd suddenly lurched forward and slammed into William’s side. Down they both tumbled, tangled together, and when they drew apart I knew we were done for.

  The demon rose to its feet, patting its limbs and chest in disbelief—and then stared at William’s medallion, now lying on the ground
, dull and powerless as an antique lamp. The object had not burned the demon, nor harmed it in any way. A wicked grin spread across its lips and it hissed in eager anticipation.

  William lay on the ground, stunned.

  “Now, Cerberus!” I shouted and hoisted myself onto the back of the hound. He barked, a deep and echoing roar, as his body expanded, heads pushing out from either side of his neck, howling as they came to life once more. “Grab your medallion!” I instructed William, who unfroze and stumbled forward on hands and knees to grab its chain as Cerberus lifted him off the ground. The demons surged into the path, swarming the spot where he’d lain and slashing at the air.

  Howls of fury rose inside the valley, and Cerberus bounded through the horde, kicking demons aside as they tried to bite and grab hold of his legs. Then, as I had feared, the infernal shrieks of the winged ones told me that swooping talons were not far behind.

  A moment later I felt leathery wings brush my back and air rush past my head, and then heard the crunch of snapping bones as Cerberus’s left head snatched the being out of the sky and bit down with his powerful jaws. The hound’s head shook, sending bits of gore flying from between his teeth, and I buried my face in his fur to avoid the splatter of demon blood and entrails.

  Our path sloped downward before we skidded to a stop. I opened my eyes to peer between Cerberus’s heads and gasped. Cerberus’s feet scrabbled on the edge of a broken bridge. Tiny rocks slid from under his paws and tumbled into a gaping crevice below that burned hot and red with infernal fire. The bridge separated this upper valley from the one below, but with half of the bridge missing, we had no means to cross the gap. For the first time, I wished there’d been another mountain to climb between the valleys instead.

  Though I couldn’t see much from where I clung to Cerberus’s back, our destination appeared to contain a writhing mass of cloaked figures. At least they were not demons.