by Alane Adams
The Omeras soared over the moonlit landscape of the island of Garamond, heading steadily toward the coast. The air temperature dropped noticeably as they glided over the water.
At one point, Sam looked over at Rego, who winked back as he leaned over the neck of his Omera. The dwarf was clearly enjoying himself. And he wasn’t the only one—Sam kicked the sides of his beast and let out a whoop. He relished the feeling of freedom riding high above the troubled world below, and, for the moment, he ignored the dark connection he shared with the winged demon.
Harsh morning light seared the edges of the horizon by the time the five riders saw the outline of a gloomy, foreboding island in the distance.
Pantros.
A jagged peak rose from the center of the island. Tendrils of smoke rose from the top. Sam figured it to be the volcano where Rego had said they would find the tunnels leading to the underworld. A shudder ran through him as he imagined the venomous spiders and hairy bats they would find down there. What if there were worse things than his imagination could conjure up? That was the thought that scared him the most.
They landed the Omeras on a field of black rock, dismounting the beasts with noticeable relief. The male took flight, bounding off with hardly a pause. The female lingered a moment, allowing Sam to silently thank her, before she launched herself into the air to follow her mate.
“Where to?” Sam asked, stretching out the kinks.
Rego pointed out a faint trail that led to the top of the volcano. “Up yonder. We had best start moving. The sooner we face Sinmara, the sooner we end this curse.”
“But I’m so hungry,” the little witch proclaimed, rubbing her grubby face with one hand. “I could eat a bowl of worms.”
“Ditto that. Minus the worms,” Keely said. “I would give my soul for a Chuggies burger right now.”
Keely would have to be starving before she would lower herself to eat at Chuggies, so Sam knew she was desperate. “I’ve got some jerky,” he said, reaching into his pouch.
Hungry hands grabbed for the dried meat.
“Here.” Leo pulled out a plastic-wrapped granola bar and held it out for the girls. “I’ve been saving it.”
Keely looked in awe at the remnant from their world. The bright blue package seemed out of place here in Orkney. “Where did you get that?” she whispered.
“I brought a bunch with me when I passed through the stonefire,” Leo said. “My father taught me to be prepared.”
“Where are the rest?” Sam asked, as Leo tore off the wrapper and they divided it up five ways.
“I ate them,” he said between chews.
Leo had the grace to look embarrassed, but at the moment, none of them could complain. The melty chocolate granola was the best thing Sam had ever eaten. Mavery moaned in delight. Even Rego was taken by the tasty treat.
“Who’s ready to raid the underworld?” Sam said, brushing his hands on his shirt.
The dwarf took the lead, setting a course across the black rock toward the base of the volcano. Ancient lava flows covered most of the ground, eliminating any vegetation save for a few stubby palms that poked through the cracks. The lava field was porous and sharp, like coral. Within the first few minutes, Mavery stumbled and scraped her knee, leaving a trail of blood flowing down her leg. But she didn’t complain, just pinched her mouth shut and kept walking.
After an hour’s walk, the terrain got smoother and steeper as they reached the base of the volcano. Serpentine tendrils of steam rose from the top.
“This isn’t an active volcano, is it?” Sam asked, as they paused for a short rest.
“You mean will it erupt today? Probably not,” Rego surmised, eyeing the smoking peak.
“Probably not?” Keely repeated.
“Hey, probably not is better than probably, right?” Sam said, trying to make her smile. But Keely’s glare was as fierce as the red sun.
“Just so you know, Sam, if you get us killed, I will never speak to you again,” she replied.
Chapter Forty-Three
After several hours of hiking, during which Sam had time to count all the reasons this was a bad idea, they came around a bend and stumbled on a large, oval breach in the side of the volcano. Hot air blasted out from inside the shaft. The ocean seemed an impossible distance below them. Waves crashed against the volcanic rock sending up a spray, but no cooling breeze reached them.
Sam fought a sudden urge to turn away from the dark, sulfuric-smelling cave and run down the trail, back to safety. Rego took a dead torch stuck in the side of the cave wall, lit it with a spark from a flint, and stepped into the long, downward-sloping tunnel. Leo shot Sam a look of bravado and hoisted Mavery onto his shoulders. Keely slipped her hand into Sam’s and squeezed it once.
“You’re sure about this?” she asked, searching his eyes with hers.
“Sure as you can be about going to an underworld full of demons,” Sam said dryly.
“Hurry up,” Rego called out, nearly out of sight as he descended rapidly into the volcano’s depths. The kids hurried to catch up.
“I thought you said no one comes here.” Sam eyed the torch.
Rego snorted. “I said ‘no one in their right mind comes here.’ Sinmara’s the foulest creature in this realm, worse than ten Tarkana witches. But if you can pay her price, there is hope.”
“So what made you come before?” Keely asked.
The light flickered off the walls, revealing a flash of anguish across Rego’s face. “A lady friend in trouble. Bargained away her soul. Sinmara and I came to an agreement. But it cost me a pretty penny.”
Sam knew what it felt like to bargain away his soul. The Horn of Gjall bit into his waist as he stumbled over a rock.
The air grew hotter as they descended. Sam heard a rustle overhead.
“Did you hear that?” he whispered.
“It sounds like bats,” Keely answered, her voice shaky.
They looked up at the same time. In the flickering light of Rego’s torch, Sam saw the shreeks.
Hundreds of them. Maybe thousands.
They hung upside down from the ceiling like bats roosting. These shreeks were larger than the ones he had encountered back in Pilot Rock, but they had the same vicious claws, glowing red eyes, and leathery wings tucked behind them.
Keely would have screamed, but Sam clamped his hand over her mouth. “Don’t make any loud noises.”
She nodded, and he removed his hand. “What are those things?” she whispered.
“Shreeks,” answered Mavery. “They used to be people, but their souls belong to Sinmara now. They can’t leave this place.”
“Keep moving,” Rego said. “Don’t pay them any attention, and they won’t bother you.”
Keely shuddered, averting her eyes.
But Sam made eye contact with one the shreeks. As they locked eyes, there was an instant connection, an awareness that zinged between them. In that moment, Sam could feel its terror, its desperation, its rage at being trapped here. He forced himself to look away, but not before he heard its plea.
Release us.
Sam looked around, but no one else appeared to notice. He had heard it in his head, in the silent language through which magical things in Orkney had a way of reaching him.
Sam’s thoughts drifted to the Omera. What if he had stayed trapped in the black-hearted beast?
What would I have become? Sam wondered.
“Sinmara’s up ahead,” Rego said, shaking Sam’s thoughts loose. The dwarf stopped, twitching his whiskers as he scented the air. “She’s alone for now. Her brothers must be off making mischief. This is our chance.”
“Brothers? What brothers?” Sam said, concerned by the thought of multiple underworld enemies to overcome.
“A pair of giants with the smarts of a slug. But what they lack in brains, they make up for in brawn. They protect Sinmara by keeping her chained up. So there’s no shortage of hatred in that family.” Rego moved on.
“That might have been nice t
o know up front,” Sam griped. He glanced at Leo. He had a bad feeling about this, but Leo merely shrugged in return and stepped forward.
No turning back now, Sam realized.
They followed Rego into a large, open chamber hewn from walls of black onyx. Heat emanated off the sides, back to the center of the room, where a pool of molten lava bubbled and popped noxious gas in the air. On a throne carved from the same onyx sat a woman.
Sinmara. Rego wasn’t exaggerating. The underworld madam was enormous, with gray, flabby skin and a wart the size of a tomato on her nose. In her arms, she held a creature that looked like a large black puma. It snarled at the invaders, but she ran a fleshy hand over it, rubbing it into submission. On Sinmara’s thick fingers, she wore rings of different colors: ruby red, emerald green, and a blue sapphire the size of a goose egg. At the sight of their little group, Sinmara’s lips creased into a smile.
“Rego, you obnoxious dwarf, what brings you back to my slice of paradise?” she said casually. The wart on her nose wiggled as if it were alive.
“Mistress Sinmara.” Rego laid the torch on the ground and gave an exaggerated bow to her. “I realize it’s a merely trifling annoyance for someone as great as you, but the red sun has returned.”
Sinmara’s eyes widened for a moment, and then she waved one sparkling hand in the air. “I cannot abide the sun, whatever color. It damages my lovely skin. So why should I care?” Next to her sat a basket of large snails. She reached in, pulled one out, and popped it into her mouth, crunching down satisfyingly on its shell.
“You should care, you fat hog!” Mavery shouted, stamping her foot. “It’s your fault the sun’s killing everything.”
Crimson lava flowed up around their ankles. Mavery squealed and leaped into Leo’s arms. Sam jumped to the side, dragging Keely with him, but smoke sizzled off his boots.
“Silence, little brat!” Sinmara barked. The lava died down, and she stroked the head of the puma in her lap, her rings twinkling in the light of the glowing lava. “What makes you think I know anything about this curse? That old he-witch Rubicus concocted it.”
“You’re lying,” Sam said, wishing he could shake the truth out of the old hag. “Odin told me Rubicus came to you, that you were the source.”
“You spoke to that insufferable god?” Sinmara’s thick brows drew together in a frown. “Then you must be a Son of Odin.” She leaned forward, sniffing at the air. “But you’ve got magic.” She sniffed again, and then a delighted look crossed her face as she crowed, “You’re a witch. You broke Odin’s curse.”
She tilted her head back and cackled, her cheeks jiggling with fiendish glee. “Rubicus swore the curse would be broken and he would have the last laugh. Poor Odin must have been furious.” She leaned forward again, her eyes bright with delight. “Tell me, did he threaten to chop off your head, like he did to Rubicus?” She roared with laughter at the look of confirmation on Sam’s face.
Rego stepped forward. “Now, now, Sinmara, you’ve had your fun. The red sun is bad for business. If this world ends, you’ll have no souls to lord over.”
“It’s a thankless job,” she sniffed, popping another snail into her mouth and rolling it around in her cheek. “I’ll need a better reason to get involved.”
“Last time I visited, you were keen on being released,” Rego said, looking pointedly at her feet. Her ankles were bound by a thick chain bolted into the ground. “It must get tiresome being locked up down here.”
Suddenly self-conscious, she tucked her hideous feet under her gown.
“No mortal has the power to break these chains,” she said, petting the puma so hard it complained loudly. “The black dwarves fastened these from iron ore dug from Gomara. No human weapon can break the steel.”
“I have the strength of ten men,” Sam proclaimed. With Odin’s Fury running through his veins, Sam felt strong enough to tear the chain apart with his bare hands.
“Sam, we have a problem,” Leo whispered at his side.
Sam ignored Leo, stepping closer to the underworld madam. “If I set you free, will you show me how to end the red-sun curse?”
“Sam,” Leo tugged emphatically on his arm, but Sam shrugged loose, keeping his eye on the gray giantess.
Sinmara’s eyes lit up at the idea of freedom. She opened her mouth to speak, when a noise echoed from the tunnel behind her. Sam heard loud banging and snorting, then grunting. Sinmara leaned forward eagerly, almost desperate. “Now, boy; release me now,” she said, sweeping the cat off her lap and knocking over the bowl of snails.
But it was too late. Two giants with bulbous noses rumbled into the throne chamber. One giant was bald as an egg; the other had a thick pelt of brown hair like a Mohawk running down its pate.
Sinmara’s brothers. Baldy and Mohawk, Sam named them.
They stooped to avoid hitting the carved ceiling, looking as surprised to see the four visitors as the visitors were to see them. Baldy carried the carcass of a large deer, which he dropped with a thud. Mohawk held a giant club in his hand.
Sinmara moved fast for such an oversize sloth. She grabbed Keely and wrapped her thick arm around the helpless girl’s throat.
“Release me, or she dies,” she bellowed.
Chapter Forty-Four
Even though he stood only as high as Sinmara’s thighs, Rego unsheathed his sword. Leo drew his bow and notched an arrow. Sam held his ground between, wondering where Mavery had disappeared to.
“Sam!” Keely screamed, kicking her feet at the giantess.
The two giant brothers lurched into action, raising their clubs over their heads and yowling unintelligibly.
Baldy leaped and swung his club Sam’s way. The boy alertly ducked and rolled while Leo launched an arrow, piercing the giant’s throat. The giant wailed like a baby, pawing at the arrow lodged in his flesh.
Mohawk roared and raised his leg high, then brought it crashing down, aiming to stomp Rego to a pulp. The dwarf leaped nimbly to the side, then drew his sword and stabbed it into the giant’s gnarly foot.
That’s when Sam spied Mavery. She was clambering up the side of Sinmara’s throne like a monkey. Once she reached the top, she took two steps along the narrow back and, without hesitation, leaped down on Sinmara’s head.
“Let her go!” Mavery shouted, pulling at Sinmara’s tangled hair and pinching her wart.
Sinmara shrieked and dropped to her knees.
“Not my beauty mark,” she cried, holding her nose. Mavery had knocked the thing loose so it hung grotesquely from Sinmara’s face by a thin strip of flesh. Sam could see something alive inside it, a parasite of some kind. She tried to smush the wart back onto her nose, but it wouldn’t stay attached.
But Sam saw there were bigger problems at hand.
With Sinmara and her brothers all caterwauling, the army of shreeks had awoken and were now flying into the large chamber. Three of them swooped down on Mavery and Keely. The girls screamed, trying to bat them away.
Sam moved to help, but then he saw that Baldy had picked up a large boulder and was about to drop it on Leo’s head. Sam dove at Leo, shoving him aside, and threw up his hands. “Fein kinter movius,” he shouted. The trajectory of the falling boulder shifted just enough to avoid crushing him, crashing to the ground one foot away.
Rego furiously battled the Mohawk giant with his sword, but it kept trying to bash him into the ground with his club. The agile dwarf leaped from side to side, but he was clearly running out of energy.
Sensing he needed to turn the tide, Sam grabbed the pouch from around his neck and swung it with furious intent. “Fein kinter, ventimus enormous, ventimus destera nova!” A wind rose up and began to blow the giants back while the shreeks spun and tossed in the air.
Sinmara remained chained to her throne. She looked pitiful with her hair blown back and her mole hanging limply on her face.
“Son of Odin, you will die for this!” she screamed, spittle spraying from her lips as she drew up her hands and sent a wave of lav
a at him.
“Fein kinter, fereza, fereza nae movio.” Sam swung Odin’s rock so hard it was only a blur of motion. Odin’s Fury was temporarily increasing the potency of what he could do. Everything in the chamber began to slow down. The droplets of lava heading toward him hung in the air. Keely and Leo both froze. The shreeks halted midflight, and Rego and the two giants remained locked in a frozen contest. Rego looked like he was about to be smashed by the rock the Baldy had dropped on him.
Sam blinked. He had stopped time. There wasn’t a sound in the chamber—just the echo of his heartbeat in his ears. He shook himself, realizing he had no idea how long the spell would last.
First, he dragged Rego out of the way of the rock; then he lifted Mavery out of the open jaws of Sinmara’s black puma.
Sinmara still had the solution to ending the red-sun curse. All he had to do was follow Odin’s instructions. He closed his eyes, tapping into Odin’s Fury, letting his senses become empowered. He envisioned the giantess and the mountain of gray flesh. He shuddered, then hardened his resolve. He would run at her, leap inside, as he had done with the Omera, and then exit as soon as he had her secret.
Before he could talk himself out of it, Sam ran, diving headfirst. He shut his eyes as he hit her rubbery blubber. The transition was easier this time. With a gasp, he melded with her behemoth of a body. He reeled at the ugliness of her mind, then steeled himself to look, delving into her horrid center, feeling the evil that held on to the souls of the underworld, the pain, the agony.
What did she prize? Where was her source of power? Sam searched her thoughts, her memories, but her evilness was like a black stain, spreading over him as he lingered. She was stronger than the Omera. She was fighting back, trying to consume his magic. Frantically, Sam attempted to force her to remember, pressuring her with his mind to tell him.
Then he saw a spark of memory, a handful of gems passed to her. He looked down at the fleshy gray fingers. The stones on her rings glittered back. She was screaming loudly now, pushing him out, but he had what he wanted.
