The Eighth Mage

by Tamara Geraeds

  I bite my lip. Of course, I already know what I need to choose, but it’s not easy to say it out loud. It feels a bit like betraying Vicky.

  She reaches out to rub my back, and I blink to get rid of the image of her walking into the light. “You know what I’ll choose. There’s only one right answer.” I take a deep breath and look Charon in the eye. “Please show us how to activate Vicky’s power to create the nine circles of Hell.”

  The ferryman pushes his staff into the water, and the boat comes to a sudden halt. “With pleasure.”

  He steps out of the boat without lifting his feet, or so it seems, and beckons us. “Come on.”

  We follow close behind to make sure the mist doesn’t grab onto us. There’s no water where the ferryman steps, but I sink into it up to my ankles. I don’t complain as long as there are no hands reaching out to me. The moaning far above us sends shivers down my back. I try to think happier thoughts, but everything here is so dark and gloomy. The sky is made up of shades of black and gray, and the ground is equally dark. If you’re not careful, it will suck every bit of joy out of you.

  We walk over an uneven path. Below the mist, I can feel small rocks with something soft in between. I can only hope it’s grass or moss, but after the skull path in that unknown world we visited, I have a hard time believing it’s something as innocent as that.

  After several silent minutes, Charon looks over his shoulder. “You know, the mist feeds on fear. It leaves the confident alone.”

  I frown down at the claws of grayish white trying to grab my ankles. “It does?”

  “Watch Vicky if you don’t believe me.”

  I glance sideways and stumble over a bigger rock. When I land on the rocky ground, the mist swirls around me eagerly, but it doesn’t touch me. It doesn’t try to swallow me like last time. When I sit up, it creeps nearer. I squint down between the slivers and try to see what the soft stuff on the path is.

  It’s like ordinary mud, except that it moves. I bend down for a closer look and see the mud moving. It’s painting patterns around my feet.

  I hold out my hand to touch it. “It’s beautiful…”

  “Don’t do that,” Charon says, briskly pulling me back up. “It will suck you in if you get too close.”

  Vicky steadies me as I sway on my feet, suppressing the urge to reach down again. The mist pulls back as soon as she touches me. There’s a clear space around her.

  “You’ve grown more confident.” There’s amusement in Charon’s voice, but it’s replaced by a reproachful tone. “But it’s not enough yet.” He twirls his staff on the ground in thought. “I may have a solution for that.” He lifts his staff again, and the hole that was made fills itself up. “After I help Vicky claim her heritage.”

  “Sounds promising,” I whisper to Vicky as we start walking again.

  With every step I take, the pull from the mud lessens. I wonder where it takes you if it pulls you in. Do you become part of the path? Turn into mud yourself? Or do you end up somewhere underneath it? I’m afraid to ask, and the more I think about it, the closer the mist gets.

  Vicky gently touches my fingers. “Relax. We’re safe here.”

  After what feels like forever, the ferryman goes into a dark cave. I try to ignore the chill creeping up from the cold, slippery floor as we walk toward a light in the distance. I make sure I don’t touch the rocky walls that spread a musky smell. I don’t want to risk coming into contact with any more dangerous species here.

  When we finally come to a halt, I find myself staring at Charon’s skeleton boat. That’s where the light was coming from.

  “Charon?” I begin tentatively.

  He turns to me with a bright smile. “Yes, Dante?”

  “Why did we walk all the way here if your boat was going here anyway?”

  “Because the mud needed some time to attach itself to Vicky.”

  “What do you..?” I look down at our feet so suddenly my neck protests. Vicky’s are covered in grease.

  She tries to shake it off, but Charon holds up his hand. “Don’t do that. We need it for your transition.”

  I shiver at the word. “Is that dangerous?”

  “Not at all. She needs to acknowledge her ancestry to awaken her full powers. This will result in a transition.”

  Vicky takes in the mud creating patterns on her legs. A mixture of fear and disgust pulls at the corners of her mouth. “A transition into what?”

  “Into who you were always supposed to become.”

  I almost snort. Great, that clears it up.

  Charon tilts his head. “You will have to trust me.”

  “I do,” we say in unison.

  “Good.” He gestures at the water. “Please step in, Vicky.”

  She hesitates and he holds out his skinless hand to her. She takes it, and he guides her in.

  “This is the Pool of Awakening. The water will help you accept your heritage. All you have to do is believe in the strength that lies within you.” He lets go of her and slides back.

  I do the same, even though I want nothing more than to rush into the water and pull Vicky out.

  Vicky steps back further and further until only her head is still above the water. I can see the mud clinging to her face now, covering more and more of her skin.

  Charon moves his staff sideways to block my way. “Whatever happens, do not interfere.”

  I swallow the lump that rises to my throat. Did I make a mistake asking Charon for help?

  My heart beats twice as fast when the water starts to move restlessly. Waves crash into Vicky, who’s standing in the middle of the pool like a statue. Her face shows determination and doubt at the same time.

  The waves slam together and form into hands that tip Vicky backwards and lift her out of the water horizontally. She closes her eyes when the mud covers her whole face.

  Then it starts to pull at her lips and crawl into her nose. She shakes her head and struggles to free herself from the water’s grip.

  “Relax,” Charon says calmly. “Let it examine you.”

  She obeys, and the dark grease slips inside her mouth and nose. Her body shudders, and her legs kick, but the water hands keep her in place.

  Suddenly, Charon turns to me. “Listen carefully,” he whispers. “There is something you need to handle soon.”

  For the first time since I met him, the ferryman sounds worried. He glances at Vicky’s shaking form before continuing in that hushed tone that doesn’t suit him. “She is fighting something evil inside her. A sliver of Hell. Something planted, if I am not mistaken, by Satan’s right hand.”

  I gasp. I knew it! Why did I brush my doubts off so easily?

  “If you don’t act soon, Vicky will be a powerful enemy instead of a faithful ally.”

  “Thank you,” I whisper back.

  He gives me a curt nod and straightens up.

  Vicky stops shaking. The grease flows back out, and she coughs.

  I let out a relieved sigh.

  But it isn’t over yet. One of the water hands reaches for the lantern on the bow of the boat. It carries it over to Vicky’s suspended body and presses it against her side.

  The mud immediately catches fire, and within seconds, she’s completely covered in flames. Her arms and legs jerk as she tries to free herself. Her mouth opens in a scream that sends shivers down my back. I expect her to turn more transparent, to make the fire go through her harmlessly, but her skin only gets clearer. The flames tear at her clothes, her hair smokes, and fire engulfs her face.

  Charon raises his staff a bit higher to stop me from diving forward. “Remember, Vicky, you are related to Lucifer; you can withstand any amount of fire. There is no need to fear it. Accept your ancestry.”

  When Vicky stops screaming, I can only think one thing, which I repeat over and over in my head. Please don’t let her burn, please don’t let her burn.

  The flames crackle as they spread. The heat provoke
s drops of sweat on my forehead, but I don’t wipe them away. I’m afraid that if I lose sight of her for one second, she will turn to ash.

  “The fire cannot harm you,” Charon says in his deep voice. It sounds as if he’s hypnotizing her.

  And finally, it works. She listens, and she believes.

  The corners of her mouth slowly move up. The hands of water push her into a standing position. When she opens her eyes, they glow red for a moment. The hands let go, and she stands there, on the water, completely covered in fire, and smiling. To my relief, it’s a sweet smile, not an evil one. Her eyes have returned to their normal light blue. She spreads her arms and performs and elegant turn, like a ballerina. The flames die out as she whirls, and I blink. Even in the dim light of the lantern, which is back on the bow of the boat, she seems brighter. As if a light shines from within her.

  She crosses her arms over her chest and sinks into the water. The waves around her get clearer and clearer, as if the darkness seeps out of the Pool. A weight is lifted from my shoulders bit by bit as I watch it happen. I was already afraid there would be darkness within her somewhere, even before Charon told me there really is. Hidden, but ready to strike. A perfect spy in our midst, impossible to beat once she’s fully turned. But now that I see her light up the entire Pool of Awakening, I know there is still hope. The water turns her around and around calmly. She comes to a halt with her back to me and Charon. The waves lift her hair, and I can see the incomplete symbol on her neck.

  A red line, like a laser, shoots up from below and crawls toward her. It starts to burn lines onto her skin, like a tattoo gun, making the symbol whole inch by inch. The drop at the bottom becomes a lemniscate, and between it and the horizontal I, another I is drawn. As soon as the laser beam is done, it bursts into hundreds of red specks. The symbol glows red too, and then Vicky shoots up, out of the water. Her head falls backwards, and she spreads her arms again. Without looking, she lands next to the water line, steadily on two feet. Slowly, she brings down her arms and breathes out, lowering her head again. When she opens her eyes, they are a brighter blue than before. I didn’t think that was possible, but now it’s as if power glows inside them.

  She cracks her neck and smiles at us. “I feel great.”

  “You look great,” I say. “Even better than before.”

  She gestures at my feet. “Throw a rock at me.”

  My eyebrow shoots up. “What? Why?”

  “Just do it.”

  “Okay…” I pick up a small rock, hold it up and hurl it at her when she nods encouragingly. My heartbeat pounds inside my head, sending a warning with every throb. She’ll kill you, she’ll kill you.

  The rock is an inch from her face. She doesn’t do anything to stop it from hitting her. Her arms hang by her sides, she doesn’t step aside, and she doesn’t turn more transparent to make it fly through her. Still… the rock doesn’t hit her. It comes to a halt midair. When she narrows her eyes, the rock starts turning, faster and faster, until it’s no more than a blur.

  “Duck,” she tells me, and I obey.

  The rock soars over my head and slams into the wall behind me. A small avalanche falls down and stops at my heels.

  Charon chuckles. “Well done, my child.”

  The tension leaves my body. If Charon doesn’t sense any immediate danger, I should be fine.

  I straighten up and gape at my girl, trying to hide the fact that she scared the shit out of me. “How did you do that? You didn’t even move a finger!”

  She taps the side of her head.

  My mouth is still half open. “You got all that power just by accepting your ancestry?”

  Charon gestures for her to turn around. He lifts her hair with his staff, giving us another look at the full symbol. He nods contently and slides back. “Embracing who you are can give someone a great deal of power. Especially if you embrace the good as well as the bad. Nobody is perfect.”

  Vicky flattens her hair and turns around to face us. “I’ve accepted that the Devil’s blood runs through my veins, but I refuse to give the evil molecules inside it any power.”

  Charon’s face lights up. “I always knew you were more Isabel’s great-granddaughter than Lucifer’s.”

  A sudden urge to hug her falls over me, and I give in to it. As soon as I touch her, I pull back though.

  “What?” she asks.

  “Your skin!” Carefully, I stroke her cheek. “It’s warm!”

  Her eyes light up. “It is?” She touches her own hand and grins. “I guess I’m more alive now.”

  My heart flutters at the thought that this could be a first step to keeping her with me. Of course, Charon feels the need to crush that hope with force.

  “You’re not,” he says. “What you’re feeling is the Devil’s powers running through your veins. His blood has grown hot over the centuries. This is why you’re immune to fire now.”

  Vicky throws her hair over her shoulder. “That’s still pretty awesome.”

  I can’t argue with that, and even if I could, there’s no time to do so, because Charon has turned around and is making his way out of the cave. “Follow me,” he simply says.

  CHAPTER 10

  This time we don’t go far. Charon stands still right outside the cave. He looks around before turning to us. “This spot will do. You might want to get ready for battle.”

  “What? Why?” I step back and reach for my Morningstar.

  “Because I’m opening a portal to Hell.”

  I want to ask why again, but he is already stretching his arms out in front of him. The air he touches moves. His hands draw the darkness in. A large circle comes to life, light pulsing from its center.

  I grab my athame with my free hand. “Be careful.”

  The light explodes, and once my eyes get used to the sudden brightness, I get a view of what’s inside the circle: the smoldering world I’ve seen in my premonitions too often.

  Charon gestures at it calmly. “Hurry inside now. Behind that rock, you will find your mother. Good luck.”

  “What?”

  It’s the only word left that I’m able to produce. I have no clue what’s going on anymore.

  “Aren’t you coming with us?” Vicky asks, throwing a tentative look through the portal.

  Charon leans on his stick lazily, as if he’s not standing in front of a gateway into the most dangerous realm of all. “Even if I wanted to, I could not. I am merely a guide, remember?”

  I finally manage to form a coherent sentence. “Why are you sending us in there?”

  “Because you need more confidence. And your mother can give you that.”

  I glance inside Hell and lick my lips. It doesn’t really matter what his reasons are, does it? I’m given the chance to get Mom back. I’ll take it, no matter how dangerous it is.

  Charon waves his staff at the portal. “Go now. I will keep this door open until you get back.”

  Vicky shows her bravery by stepping through first. I follow close behind, not wanting to leave her in there on her own.

  Images from my premonitions fill my vision, and I shake my head to lose them. While I catch up with Vicky, I turn my head in all directions, scanning our surroundings carefully. Sweat is already dripping down my temples and back, and I can’t keep my feet on the cracked ground for long, because it’s just as scorching hot as I remember. My palms are so wet that I can barely hold on to my weapons. After a couple of steps, I put away my athame and conjure a lightning bolt instead. Much easier to hold on to.

  We both freeze when a loud moaning echoes through the air. We position ourselves back-to-back and turn slowly, taking in every inch of the vast, dry landscape. When nothing approaches, Vicky glances at me. “Are you okay? You seem a little… overheated.”

  Her sincere concern comforts me. There’s still time to kill the evil inside her. Charon wouldn’t have sent us in here if there wasn’t. I wipe some sweat from my eyes with the back of my hand, and
blink. “I’ll manage, even though I’m not fire and heat proof, like you.”

  I keep moving from one foot to the other to prevent my soles from burning while she stands still. There’s not a drop of sweat on her face.

  “Let’s keep going,” I urge her. “I want to get out of here as soon as possible.”

  After several more feet, we finally reach the rock Charon pointed out. It seemed so close by, but it must have taken us at least five minutes to reach. We both stop to listen intently for sounds coming from the other side of it. If Mom is there, she’s bound to have company, of the not so nice kind. We’re actually lucky to have gotten this far without bumping into a demon of some sort. Or the man himself.

  I suppress a shiver. I don’t want to think about what Satan has done to my mother. Or the state we’ll find her in.

  Vicky beckons me. We’ve waited long enough. There are no sounds, save for the occasional moaning coming from afar and the crackling of fire in the distance.

  We step around the rock with our weapons raised. At first, I think Charon was mistaken. There’s no one here. But then I hear the shuffling of feet and someone mumbling softly.

  “Mom!” It comes out as a whispered shout while I dive forward and drop down on my knees, clutching the bars of her underground prison with both hands, even though they’re hot too.

  Vicky manages to grab my folded-up Morningstar before it falls down.

  Mom looks up, startled. A deep frown appears in her forehead. “Dante? What are you doing? Did you make a hole in the ceiling?”

  “Are you okay?” I ask.

  She throws me a smile, but it’s fake. Robot-like. “Of course. You know how happy I am. But I would like to see more of you, honey.”

  “I’m afraid she’s more brainwashed than the last time we saw her,” Vicky whispers to me.

  I swallow the worry that climbs up into my throat. “Would you like to go on a trip with me, Mom?”

  Regret falls over her face, and she lowers her head. “I would, honey, but I promised Trevor I’d wait for him here.”

  “Oh, it’s fine,” I tell her, trying to sound cheerful. “He’ll be there too. He asked me to come pick you up.”