From the Earth to the Shadows

by Amanda Hocking

  “I remembered the conversations I’d had with her father, where we talked at length,” she went on. “I could hear my own words coming out of my mouth, saying, ‘Let’s have a baby.’ But in my heart, deep within me, that’s not what I wanted.” Her smile turned bitter as she spoke. “But I had been compelled to say it.”

  A chill ran over me, and I wondered painfully if Marlow had felt the same way about me. If she had never wanted me, but had been compelled. Unlike Lyra, she’d never mustered the ability to love me the way Lyra loved Sloane.

  “Many women experience things like that,” Oona countered gently. “Having children is life-changing. It’s easy to have regrets and fears.”

  “No, this was different,” Lyra insisted, with a finality in her words. “And the more I thought about it, the more I realized that so many things in my life I did, I hadn’t wanted to do. Part of that was my nature. Because I’m an Apsara, I had a duty to be good and kind and to motivate others to do the same. It’s instinctual, the same way a robin knows how to make a nest. I knew how to inspire.”

  “Because you’re immortal, you have stronger instincts,” I said. “But I have them, too.”

  “Of course,” Lyra agreed. “It’s only the humans who were favored by the gods that were truly given free will.” She rolled her eyes at that. “But I had come to realize that it was stronger than that for me.

  “Like having Sloane,” she went on. “It was as if something else was controlling me. I investigated more, and it occurred to me that would be the only way that Valkyries make sense: If there is someone else writing our destiny, controlling our fate. Making us do things that we don’t want to do.”

  “So you think you don’t have free will. What about me?” I asked, then motioned to Oona. “Or Oona?” Then I pointed to Valeska, who responded with a groan of annoyance that I was bringing her into the argument. “Or children of mixed parentage, like Valeska here or Sloane?”

  “How can any of us truly have free will if the entire immortal population is controlled by someone—something—else?” Lyra persisted. “They’re behaving as they are made, behaving around you without choice, so all your interactions have become choreographed. None of us can be free. That’s why I wanted an uprising. I wanted to liberate Sloane.

  “But then I realized the truth far too late, not until after I had been down here for some time,” she said with a weary sigh. “I can’t break free. I can’t do anything I wasn’t destined to do. To go against destiny would be to tear at the very fabric of our existence, causing the magic that traps all of us into our respective worlds to fail, and it would only be a matter of time before all the immortals here found a way back to earth. There are so many here who want only to reclaim what they believe was stolen from them—their time up in the sun—and they will do anything to get it back, even if it means destroying everything.”

  Her eyes were downcast as the weight of her words settled in around us.

  “So I stay here,” she said finally. “I will toil away for as long as my daughter is alive. She has such a short time on the earth, and I want her to enjoy it as much as she can. I want her to be happy and alive.”

  Valeska broke the ensuing silence with, “That’s very admirable of you.”

  “What choice do I have?” Lyra asked with a bitter smile. Then she straightened and clasped her hands together. “I’m certain you didn’t come down here to listen to the ramblings of an old woman. What is it that I can help you with?”

  “We are—” I began, but Valeska cut me off, clearing her throat loudly.

  “No offense, but after everything you’ve told us, I don’t know how we can trust you,” Valeska said, and I cast her a look, but she just stared impassively at Lyra.

  “Sloane helped you because she believes your mission is good, and I want only to keep my daughter safe,” Lyra replied evenly. “But if you don’t want my help, I can’t force you.”

  “I think we need as much help as we can get,” I clarified, still glaring at Valeska, but then I turned to Lyra. “For your safety and ours, it’s for the best that you don’t know the details of our mission. But I don’t think it would hurt, and it would help us a great deal, if you could assist us in getting to Zianna.”

  Lyra arched a dark eyebrow. “You’re going to Zianna? You won’t be able to get in without the help of a divine immortal like myself. They won’t let just anybody wander in.”

  “But you think you could get us in?” I asked.

  “Yes. But you’ll need to get cleaned up first.” She motioned to our dirty skin and tangled hair. “I’m not sure what we’ll do about your clothes. I have things you can wear, but they might be too ragged for strangers like you to be let through the door.”

  “I think I can help with that,” Oona said with a hopeful grin. “But we’ll be happy to take whatever you can spare.”

  NINETEEN

  Valeska gave another irritated grumble, and I looked at her from the corner of my eye, since Lyra held my head still as she carefully plaited my long black hair.

  “Is this really necessary?” Valeska asked, her husky voice almost pleading, as she motioned to her changed look.

  Her wild hair had been tamed into loose curls thanks to a combination of Lyra and Oona’s expertise, and a bejeweled ribbon headband ran across the back of her head to keep it all in place.

  Her new outfit consisted of off-white trousers paired with a snug, embellished vest that had to be modified to accommodate Valeska’s wings. Both the top and the pants had seen better days, with fraying and loose strings everywhere.

  My outfit was only a little better, made of a gold fabric that had long since lost its sheen. The top was cropped, revealing my midriff, and the long skirt hung low on my hips.

  “I feel like we’re wasting time,” Valeska lamented. “And these don’t even look that good.” Then she gave Lyra an apologetic smile as she quickly amended, “No offense. We appreciate the effort, but is all of this even going to matter?”

  “I can polish us up once we’re just outside Zianna,” Oona reminded her. “We have to wait until we’re closer, because the effects won’t last that long.”

  Oona was bent over the table, peering into a warped mirror as she applied a swab of gold dust across her eyelids. While the dress she wore was rather ill-fitting, with mounds of fabric draping over her petite frame, the burgundy color looked wonderful against her skin.

  “I know this isn’t the best, but I hope it’s enough to get you through the door.” Lyra tied off my hair and stepped back, pursing her lips as she looked over the three of us. “It may not work, but it certainly has a better chance than the filthy rags you came in.”

  Those rags had all been tucked away safely into our bags, which sat packed by the door, ready to go.

  “But you’re right,” Lyra said, resting her eyes on Valeska, who stood by the door with her arms folded over her chest. “We shouldn’t waste time. Let’s be on our way.”

  “How long will it take to get to Zianna?” I asked as we gathered up our things.

  “Too long,” Valeska snorted.

  “It is long, but I have ways to make it quicker,” Lyra assured us, and held the door open for us. “I know a shortcut, and we won’t be going on foot.”

  “How will we get there, then?” Oona asked, exchanging a look with me, as Lyra closed the door to her home.

  Instead of answering us, Lyra turned and walked ahead on the narrow path. Once again, Valeska decided to forgo the whole walking thing and flew up ahead, waiting for us at the end. I clung to the side of the wall, moving slowly, with Oona constantly glancing back at me.

  “Do you want me to come and get you?” Valeska called to me when I’d almost reached the end.

  “No, I got it,” I insisted, and it took all my willpower not to look down at the black abyss of the canyon and the wailing death it contained.

  Finally I made it off the path, but instead of crossing the bridge back the way we had come, Lyra headed into t
he city of Tartarus. I scampered to catch up to her, but it wasn’t exactly easy.

  Oona’s cloaking spell was still in full effect, which meant the other immortals around kept bumping into me, since they didn’t notice me. Even in the overpopulated city back home I wasn’t used to seeing this many immortals cramped together like this.

  Many of them were quite large and powerful, while some were almost tiny, like the hobgoblin who ran into my shins as he tried to dash ahead. While a few were humanoid in appearance, the majority of them appeared more monstrous, like demons with red scaly flesh or the werewolf-like Lobishomen.

  But no matter how they appeared, all of them had the same expression—blank, almost lifeless, with eyes that stared right through me. I wondered how many times they had made their commute across the bridge, leaving Tartarus to do whatever it was that filled their existence here in Kurnugia.

  A wendigo was walking straight toward me, its dead black eyes staring out from beneath its large antlers. The ashy gray skin hung off its bones, exposing throbbing red organs underneath. I tried to move out of the way as much as I could, but the wendigo slammed into my shoulder anyway, knocking me back.

  “Easy, there,” Valeska said, catching me before I fell to the ground. For a second I leaned back in her arms, my head resting against her chest, and she grinned down at me before pushing me back up onto my feet again.

  “Thanks,” I mumbled, preparing to hurry to catch up to Oona and Lyra, only to see that they had somehow disappeared into the crowd. I’d only looked away for a second, but now, as I scanned around me with a growing sense of panic, I couldn’t see them.

  A few yards away, lined up in front of awnings attached to the wall that ran around the city, was a row of massive Kting Voar bulls. They were built like yaks, with large humps behind their big heads, and smooth brown fur mottled with white spots. A pair of two-foot-long horns protruded on either side of their heads, the thick bones twirling and twisting asymmetrically like a serpent, which was ironic given the creatures’ reputation for eating snakes.

  To assist with their reptilian appetites, they had rows of sharp teeth that looked like they belonged more in a wolf than a bovine animal. They also had two large saber-like fangs extending down a good six inches.

  The one in front let out a braying grunt, then shook his massive head. Because of his horns, the immortals around him moved out of the way, giving a brief opening in the crowd, and in that moment I caught a glimpse of Oona and her burgundy dress.

  “This way!” I shouted and grabbed Valeska’s hand to pull her along after me.

  As I rushed through, narrowly dodging all sorts of creatures and ducking underneath a bull’s horns, I saw that Oona didn’t appear to even notice we weren’t with her. She was smiling as she petted a bull, while he ate large pellets out of her hand, carefully as to be mindful of his massive incisors.

  The yoke around the bull’s neck was attached to a large covered buggy, and Lyra stood beside it, haggling with an ogre in Sumerian.

  “Thanks for waiting for us,” I said to Oona breathlessly as I reached her.

  “I knew you’d catch up. You always do,” she said with a knowing smile, then motioned to the bull. “Meet Kalbi. He’s going to take us on the rest of our journey.”

  “We’re riding with this?” I asked, staring up at the monstrosity that nuzzled my best friend.

  My experience with Kting Voars on earth had been rather limited, as their large size and fiery temperament made them dangerous, despite their big doe eyes. Besides that, I didn’t know how much I wanted to put my life in the hands of a giant beast confined to the underworld.

  “Greedy ogre,” Lyra muttered as she walked back to us. “I booked the Voar Cabriolet.”

  “Is this the best way?” I asked skeptically, but then, when I glanced down the line of bulls, I realized exactly what this was—it was a line for taxis.

  Electricity didn’t work here, so for all intents and purposes Kurnugia had become a medieval society populated only by immortals. It was the supernatural Dark Ages.

  “Of course,” Lyra replied. “Kting Voars are the quickest and safest way to travel around here. They’re big and fast, and trained to protect the carriage at all costs.”

  “He’ll take good care of us,” Oona said, patting him one last time.

  Lyra climbed into the buggy, then turned back to face me. “Come on. Let’s go.”

  TWENTY

  Lyra was right. Kalbi had lumbered through the crowded city and over the bridge, but once he got out into the open land, he took off like a bullet. When we began running at full-spring, I clung to the seat of the bouncing carriage, more than a little afraid that the whole thing might fall apart in a dramatic explosion of wood and wheels.

  Lyra sat up front in the footman’s seat holding the reins, since she’d paid extra to drive the cabriolet herself. It would be best if no outsiders went along with us.

  Valeska, Oona, and I sat in the back, under the black fabric hood that covered the four-wheeled carriage. The exterior of the carriage had been stained black, but inside, the floorboards were bare and warped. There were two benches, one in the front and one in the back, each covered with a burlap-like material and the thinnest of padding.

  Above each bench was a window. The back one was covered in a murky glass, but the front was just a dark curtain that could be pulled back to talk to the driver. On either side of the carriage were half doors, with the top left open, letting the wind and air rush in from the outside.

  Once I felt comfortable that the cart was stable enough to handle our speed, I settled back in beside Oona. She sat with her legs crossed underneath her, a stack of notes on her lap. Her spell book was far too large and important to sneak down here, so she’d copied important spells down and bound the pages together with weighted string so they couldn’t easily blow away.

  Valeska had spread out on the other bench. Her legs stretched the length of the bench, and her wings propped her up slightly, so her head rested against the side of the carriage.

  I leaned back, futilely attempting to relax myself, when I noticed how strangely the cover over the carriage had been sewn together. The pieces of the cover were haphazard and patchwork, with thick thread binding them. It reminded me of the cover of a Necronomicon I had seen back at the Ravenswood Academy, where the cover had been made with human flesh.

  “Is this real leather?” I asked, running my fingers along the thick jagged seams of the cover.

  Valeska looked up at it, then shrugged. “Probably.”

  “But where would they get it from?”

  “Same place they get it on earth,” she replied disinterestedly. “Kting Voars are basically cattle, so I’m sure they can get some leather from them.”

  “But they can’t die…” I trailed off as a horrific realization hit me. They were skinned, they were eaten, they were tortured while they were alive, and eventually their skin and their meat would grow back, so it could happen all over again.

  “That only means the Voars are an endless supply of leather.” Valeska closed her eyes again and settled back on the bench.

  “What are you guys talking about?” Oona asked, looking up from her notes.

  “Nothing,” I answered quickly, since finding out about Kalbi’s life would devastate her.

  I stared out above the half door on my side, with the musty wind blowing in my face. I tried not to think about the horrors of the realm we were in, or what fresh new hell might await us all up ahead.

  It was hard to say how long we had been traveling, bouncing around in the back of the cabriolet, because time didn’t feel the same here. There was no sun, no sky, not even a clock. No time, really. Just moving forward, for what felt like hours.

  But it had to have been quite a while before the jostling lessened and Kalbi began to slow. From where I sat I couldn’t see much outside the opening above the door, but it definitely seemed darker outside. Generally, Kurnugia seemed to be lit like earth on a cloudy day—
I couldn’t see the sun, but it was still light enough to see.

  But now it had darkened, like a heavy storm was moving in.

  Valeska sat up and pulled back the curtain so she could ask Lyra, “Why are we stopping?”

  “We’re not stopping,” Lyra assured her. “We’re slowing down. It’s safer that way. We’ll draw less attention.”

  “Less attention from what?” I asked, but Valeska had already leaned out the window for a better look.

  “She’ol,” she said with a heavy sigh, then settled back into the seat.

  Both Oona and I scrambled to look out at the bleak landscape around us. The grassy plains had shifted to waves of hardened black magma and jagged rock formations that protruded from the ground.

  In the center of this, surrounded by a moat of flowing red magma, was a giant castle that appeared to have been carved out of a volcano. A few of the crude windows had smoldering red lava pouring out of them, making the castle look like it was bleeding.

  Many smaller buildings dotted the immediate landscape around it. But from this distance it was difficult to get a good look.

  The place reminded me of the Aizsaule District back on earth—the area of the city that was under demon control. Somehow it was always darker than the rest of the city, as if that small part sucked the light out of everything.

  “She’ol?” Oona asked, sitting back in the seat. Even though we were moving slower, it wasn’t exactly stable back here.

  “It’s a city ruled by Abaddon, the self-proclaimed Lord of Destruction,” Valeska explained as she stared down at the floor with a bitter twist of a smile. “The good news is that we’re getting close to Zianna.”

  I sat up and asked, “What’s the bad news?”

  “That we’re this close to Abaddon and She’ol,” Valeska replied. “Abaddon is powerful, cruel, and somehow deceptively charming. And like most demons he’s power-hungry, and he’s always looking for ways to take over Zianna, break out of Kurnugia, and ultimately destroy the world.