by Ryvr Jones
“That’s horrifying,” Nell said, her eyes widening. “Seriously, you supernatural people are so screwed up. Don’t you care about justice, fairness?
Seersha laughed. “Believe me, the Nameless Death is not given lightly. It’s also governed by the Rules, and as unfair as you may think it is, it’s necessary in some extreme cases. Like the Child of Darkness.” She flicked her hair over her shoulder. “The only problem is, the evil that existed within the soul is left behind. It’s like radioactive waste, except it doesn’t decay over time. That’s why the Abyss exists—it’s our toxic waste dumping ground.”
And it’s as corrosive and deadly as radioactive waste. No wonder his soul was dying. He carried a piece of that shit inside it. And you’ve spent centuries trying to dump it on the world, dumbass.
Rhys scrunched his eyes closed, trying to swallow his shame. How could he have been so selfish, so…stupid, moronic, asinine, his mind supplied. He sighed, focusing on the issue at hand. “Tarani’s right. The dagger sent her to the Abyss, the same way Carden’s dagger sent me—”
“Wait,” Tarani said, her face ashen, a slight tremor shaking her limbs. “Does that mean I’ve brought back darkness with me, like you?”
“No,” Seersha said, before Rhys had time to panic. He hadn’t thought about that. “Your light is too strong, and the fucker who made this dagger isn’t as powerful as Carden.” She gave Tarani a reassuring smile. “You’re safe.”
A relieved breath escaped Rhys’s chest. “Okay. There are no souls in the Abyss. Why would anyone combine the spell to send someone there, with a spell to open a portal?”
“To open a portal either to or from the Abyss?” Nell asked. “It seems to me it’s the only logical explanation.”
“It would be stupid to waste power on that.” Rhys started to pace. He hated not knowing what dangers were ahead. “Nothing would come through.”
“What about the…toxic waste?” Tarani wrung her hands, her face going even paler. “Please tell me he can’t use this to bring the evil here.”
“It doesn’t work like that,” Caeron said. “The Abyss is like a black hole. It gobbles up the evil that’s sent there, and the evil becomes part of it. The evil can’t just stand up and go away. The spell supposedly creates a door through which souls can walk. It’s specific to souls’ wave length, if you will.”
“I don’t know what that means,” Tarani huffed.
“Souls are made of—energy, let’s say.” Caeron gave her a half-smile. “A special kind of energy, bits of the divine, given by the Gods to their creations. They’re subjected to the natural spiritual laws the same way our bodies are subjected to the laws of physics. You can stand up and walk out the door, but the beer in my bottle cannot.”
“That’s a shitty metaphor,” Nell muttered.
Rhys had enough. He stopped in front of the desk, facing Caeron. “I’m fucking tired of being a puppet in the hands of some asshole. I’m going to end this, right now.”
“I’m all for ending this crap, but how?” Caeron’s shoulders slumped. “We don’t know squat. We barely know who we’re dealing with, or—”
“I don’t care!” Rhys felt the darkness stir inside him, and he took a deep breath. He would put an end to this, no matter the cost, no matter what. “We know he’s watching us, right? I’m not waiting anymore. I’m going to the field. Now.” He turned to Tarani. “Would you take me there?”
“Are you insane?” Caeron barked, getting in his face. “We can’t go in half-cocked. We’ll end up having our asses handed to us on a freaking silver plate! We still have seven days.”
“No,” Rhys said, his voice low. “No. That’s what this fucker is expecting. We’ve been dancing to his music since the beginning. Can’t you see it?”
“What’s this, some pride bullshit? Are you going for a repeat performance of the last time you were in Farat? Because this sounds exactly like that. You thought you knew what you were doing, went ahead like an enraged bull, and look where it got you!”
Rhys punched Caeron’s face before he knew what he was doing. Pain exploded in his hand while Caeron’s head snapped back and he stumbled. In the next second, Caeron’s fist collided with Rhys’s jaw, making him taste his own blood.
Kill, the darkness whispered.
“No!” Rhys took a step back, shook his head, blinked. Rage coursed through his veins, boiling hot. I won’t give in. He fisted his hands against his thighs, fighting for control.
A soft hand touched his own, and he realized he was shaking with anger and the effort to control himself. He grabbed Tarani’s hand, once again his lifeline to sanity.
“Stop it,” she ordered, her voice soft but sharp. “Both of you.”
Caeron nodded to her and flipped him the bird. “Asshole.”
Growling, Rhys bared his teeth.
“I mean it.” Tarani tugged his hand. “Stop it. Getting into a pissing contest is not going to help.”
Rhys took a deep breath. “I won’t be waiting here, sitting on my ass until the bastard calls me like I’m some trained dog.”
“I’m not even sure you should go face this fucker at all.” Caeron crossed his arms. “The Sheramath’s letter says he needs to be stopped before he crosses paths with the darkness. Last time I checked, you’re still carrying that shit around.”
“So what? Do you think we’ll find some way to get rid of it in seven days, when I haven’t found anything in freaking centuries?” Rhys narrowed his eyes. “Or did you think I’d let you go down there while I stay behind?”
“I think Rhys is right,” Tarani intervened. “By doing exactly as the Blind One says, we’re giving him an advantage. He can plan his moves, while we’re left waiting to see what he’ll do next and scrambling to pick up the pieces. Besides,” she looked into his eyes, “I know what’s like to have no control over your own life. It sucks.”
He squeezed her hand, silently thanking her for understanding. He couldn’t go on like this, always trying to catch up, to guess what crap would be thrown at him and not knowing what the fuck he could or should do.
“Fine.” Caeron threw his hands in the air. “Let’s go. Worst case scenario, the world will end sooner than later, and I won’t have to listen to you anymore.”
“You don’t have to go anywhere,” Rhys said. “This is my mess, my fight. You don’t have to risk your ass for me.” He bowed his head, then looked at Tarani. “None of you. You should drop me there and come back here. Where it’s safe.”
“No.” Her eyes burned with translucent fire. “We do this together.”
“Yeah.” Caeron nodded. “Besides, if you screw up, the world’s gonna end anyway. I’d rather have a front seat from where I can say ‘I told you so’, before I die.” Caeron grinned.
Almost against his will, Rhys had to smile back. “Deal.”
“Well, good luck with that.” Seersha touched her temple with two fingers, saluted them and disappeared into the shadows.
Caeron rolled his eyes. “Of course she won’t help us. At. All.”
“I don’t think anybody can help us, my friend.” Rhys hugged Tarani tightly.
“Now I know for sure the world is ending.” A smug grin illuminated Caeron’s face. “You’ve admitted we’re friends.”
“Now I’m hoping the world ends,” Rhys shot back. “Otherwise, you’re never letting me live this down, are you?”
“Not even a chance, my friend.” Caeron winked, and then his expression became serious. “Let’s go outside and let our watchers know we’ll be on the field shortly.”
Once again outside the shithole Arawn called home, Seersha shivered. Her blood still stained the ground, but at least this time she was standing.
She didn’t want to spend even a second down there, but she needed answers, and going to Annwan was the fastest way to get them.
“Arawn, you asshole, get over here. Now.”
He appeared almost instantly, as if he’d been waiting for her.
“I was in the bridge,�
�� he said, answering the question she hadn’t asked. “I felt you coming.”
The bridge crossed the deep cliff that separated the enormous entrance cavern were they stood, and the complex of rooms carved into the mountain’s belly. The prison Arawn thought of as a “rehabilitation center”. Fucker.
He clasped his hands behind his back. “What do you want, Seersha?”
“Who sent souls to the Abyss, and why?” She crossed her arms. “And don’t bullshit me. Nobody, not even Belenos would send souls down there without letting you take a swing at them first.”
The prick’s eyes widened, and he sputtered. “How do you know about them?”
Bingo. And fuck. She shook her head. “Nope. I’m here to get answers, not to give them. Who?”
“You know I can’t tell you.” He took a step back, shoving his hands in his suit’s pockets.
“Let me put it this way. If you don’t tell me what I want to know, I’ll give you the Nameless Death, and to hell with everything. The Enforcers are going to kill me eventually anyway, and today is as good a day as any.”
Another step back. “You wouldn’t dare.”
She smiled, letting all the hate she felt for the Enforcers show through. “Just go ahead and try me.” She brushed her hair from her shoulder, dipping her chin and staring directly into his eyes from beneath her lashes. “I’ve lost some marbles during my last visit here, you know. So, let’s try this again. Who?”
Arawn seemed to battle with himself for a moment. He pursed his lips, looking at the ground. “You already know the answer.”
“Belenos,” she spat, overcome with the desire to kill the God of Light, to obliterate him from existence. Not even the Nameless Death would suffice for that son of a bitch. “Why?”
“I don’t know.” Arawn shrugged. “But we both know he would do it to amuse himself. It’s probably futile to seek for a motive.”
“Do you even hear yourself talking?” Seersha grimaced. “Futile to seek a motive, my ass. Yes, he’s a sadistic bastard who would send some poor souls to the Abyss just for shits and giggles. But this is a transgression too great to risk it for fun.”
“And yet,” he said, his expression thoughtful, “who will watch the watchers, judge the judge?”
“Indeed,” she agreed. “Even so. If he kept this a secret, there must be a reason. For how long has he been sending souls there?”
“A millennium or two, if I recall correctly.” He lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug. “Time tends to lose meaning after a while, as you well know.”
Seersha’s eyes almost fell out of her head. “A millennium or two? A millennium or two, are you shitting me? And you knew about this all along?”
Arawn frowned. “Of course. The souls sent there are among those deemed irredeemable. They must be offered the possibility of rehabilitation before they are condemned to the Abyss.”
“You…you…” She was at loss of words, which only happened once every millennium or two. “Asshat. Jackass. Dickhead. Do you have any idea about what happens to a soul down there?”
“That is not my concern.” His frown deepened. “Once a soul is removed from my facilities, my work is done.”
Seersha wanted to kick his nuts. Hard. To destroy them with a hammer. “You’re a worthless smudge of slime, Arawn. How can a powerful being such as you become so pathetically pitiful?”
His brows arched up. “I don’t see any cause for you to pity me. I obey my orders, I do my job, and that’s all.”
The moron wasn’t even capable of being properly offended.
“Exactly. That’s all. You’re the same as the Enforcers—an empty sack of meat.” She lifted a hand. “Don’t waste your breath telling me you have a soul and they don’t, blah blah blah. I’m aware of that, and it only makes you even more pathetic. They don’t have a choice.”
“What do you mean?” There was that absurd, ridiculous confusion in his expression. It seemed he was physically unable to comprehend the concept of choice. Of doing the right thing. Of giving a fucking shit.
“Look. I don’t have time for this crap. Why does he send these poor bastards to the Abyss, instead of giving them the Nameless Death?”
“I already told you I don’t know anything about his motives.” He ran a hand over his perfectly styled hair. “If I had to venture a guess, I would say for punishment. The Nameless Death is the end of existence, but it’s also the end of suffering.”
“True.” She chewed on that for a moment. “But since I’m guessing he’s not rescuing them, what can they have done to deserve eternal suffering?”
“We haven’t reached the end of time, so you can’t affirm their suffering will be eternal. Maybe he intends to release them at some point in the future.”
Right. Seersha rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Are you aware of something especially heinous these souls have done? Anything they have in common?”
He considered her question for a minute, and Seersha could hear the ticking clock on her ass. She needed to go back, soon. “Well?” she barked.
“I don’t recall anything common to all off them, not even to most of them. Except, of course, being sent to my facilities to rehabilitation, and failing to redeem themselves.”
“Of course.” She gritted her teeth. “But would you say the ones sent to the Abyss are worse than those who are given the Nameless Death?”
“How do you measure that?” Arawn scrubbed his chin. “They are all deserving of damnation, one way or another.”
“You are so helpful, you have no idea how much,” she muttered, then lifted a finger to shut him up. “It’s not a compliment. Look up sarcasm in the dictionary when you have some free time.” She sighed. “How many?”
“I don’t know precisely.”
Maybe I should give him the Nameless Death anyway, just for reaching this level of dumbassery. “Take a guess.”
“Several thousand.”
“Oh, that’s great.” As Rhys would say, fuck me sideways. “This is going to get real ugly, really fast. I need to get going.”
Arawn tilted his head to the side. “What is your interest in the souls sent to the Abyss?”
“They’re coming back. And they’re going to be pissed.” She smiled. “With the Universe in general, and probably with you in particular.”
Seersha called the Shadows and had the satisfaction of seeing Arawn’s jaw hanging open, his eyes wide with shock, before going away.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Tamerah’s whole body hummed, her muscles charged with electricity, fear pumping through her veins like fuel. She was sure of only one thing—she wouldn’t let the darkness take Rhys.
He’s mine.
“I can only take one of you at a time,” she reminded them.
“I’ll go first.” Caeron’s tone brooked no argument.
Rhys’s face turned to stone, a storm brewing in his eyes. “Do you think I can’t take care of myself for ten seconds without your sovereign presence to supervise me?”
“We’re going in blind. We have no idea what we’re going to find. As you’ve said, the bastard is watching. He may have a trap waiting for us, and I sure as hell think it’s better if he gets me and not your sorry ass.”
“Fine.” Rhys turned to her. “Drop the bonehead there, and come back for me immediately. No waiting, no watching, no matter what.” He clasped her shoulders. “Promise me.”
“I promise.” She reached out to touch his jaw. “We’ll find a way to make things right.”
“So,” Caeron rubbed his hands together, “we’re basically going on a suicide mission, and if we fail—which is likely—the world will end.” His eyes sparkled, and his lips curled up in a cheeky smile. “I like this movie.”
“I guess that means I go last.” Nell grinned, putting her daggers in the sheaths strapped to her thighs. “Fine by me. If he gets you, I’ll be right behind to save your ass.”
Nell had lent two daggers to Tamerah, even though she was only capable of fighting wit
h one at a time. “In case one of them slips from your hand or gets stuck in a corpse,” Nell had explained as she showed Tamerah how to strap the sheaths to her hips.
Both of them had knives hidden in their boots, and Nell secured a second belt with two more daggers to her own back.
Caeron and Rhys carried even more weapons. Besides the swords that would come with their dullahan form, they had daggers in their boots and knives strapped to their chests and thighs.
We’re going to war.
The realization struck Tamerah like lightning. This would probably be a battle like the one where Rhys had died.
Except there were only four of them, and an army of enemies. Who were hard to kill. Led by a “something” that by all accounts couldn’t be killed. Her knees went weak, but she locked them in place. Now is the time to be strong, Tamerah. You can’t help Rhys if you’re having a panic attack.
“Why aren’t we taking some guns?” Nell asked, frowning.
“It’d be more trouble than what it’s worth.” Caeron shrugged. “These rotten fuckers can’t be killed by bullets. We need to behead them, and I don’t know about you,” he pointed to Nell, “but I’d rather use a weapon that has a chance of getting the job done.”
Nell made a face. “Bonehead.”
“Little human.”
“Whenever you’re ready, children,” Rhys drawled, “it would be a good time to go. No rush, though. It’s not like every minute we spend here talking is a minute they could be using to set up a trap and prepare a welcome party.”
Caeron chuckled. “Well, I think the fact that you’re joking is a good sign. Good spirits for the battle.”
Taking a last deep breath, knowing it was useless to stall any longer, Tamerah took Rhys’s face between her hands. “I love you,” she whispered. “No matter what, I won’t let the darkness take you away from me.”
Rhys crushed her to him, taking possession of her lips in a ferocious kiss, plunging inside, biting, licking. His hand dug into the small of her back, pressing her to him, and he ground against her. He was hard as a spike. Battle lust.
The aggressive display ignited an answering fire in her lower belly. Tamerah clawed his back, bit his lower lip and sucked on his tongue, pressing her hips closer to him.
