Page 63 of Endless Terrors
The creature closest to me shifted, drawing my attention back to it. Him, I corrected silently. He was wearing a ragged loincloth, so I couldn’t tell for certain, but I was pretty confident.
I realized I’d never responded to his questions. This one emanated kindness, while the rest eyed me with curiosity or distaste. But still I could not bring myself to utter a sound or syllable. I squeezed my knees with white fingers and grappled in vain for a coherent thought or sentence. There was a reason I was here, I knew that now. I’d come to this place seeking something.
My new friend said something else. The crowd dispersed quickly after that, though some moved slowly or grumbled under their breath. Even then, I couldn’t speak. When the quiet stretched and thinned, my rescuer stood. I tried to protest by reaching out a feeble hand toward him. I needn’t have worried; the creature came back within seconds. There was something tucked over his arm.
He squatted again, handing the blanket over in such a way that we didn’t touch. The material was scratchy and gray. I draped it over my shoulders and managed a tiny, tentative smile. The creature closed one eye. A wink.
Now that my eyes were working, and my brain had finally rebooted, as well, I took stock of my surroundings again. It was an enormous room, but I absorbed the smaller details. Much like the Unseelie Court, the space was lit with torches on the walls. The ceiling was so high up that I couldn’t make out anything at the top. Whatever I’d seen when I first woke up—that huge thing with wings—was tucked deep into the darkness. It could stay there, as far as I was concerned. Farther down, there were narrow openings in the walls that had the feel of an afterthought, like, oh, maybe the occupants of this place might like some light or fresh air. The makeshift windows were too far away to see anything through, however.
At ground level, there were two sets of doors. One small and square, the other vast and tall. The square set looked like it led into a lift of some kind, surrounded by a metal frame and made of wire mesh. Or this world’s version of it, at least. The doors opposite were wide open, but at this angle, I couldn’t see what waited beyond.
And all around me were … rocks. Piles and piles of rocks. Some were absolutely massive, reaching for the ceiling, and many more were smaller. One of those piles was what I had been leaning against this entire time.
“Is that your name? Rain?” the gray-skinned creature asked, making me jump.
As soon as he pointed it out, I realized that while I was looking around, I’d been muttering under my breath. A single word, over and over again, like a mindless chant. Rain. Rain. Rain.
It felt like a lightning bolt shot through my heart, and I heard a voice in my head. Another memory.
Magic always seeks balance. For every spell that is done, it comes with at least one way it can be undone. Look for a sign when you first arrive in the Dark Prince’s dimension. It might be subtle, like a stray thought or a doodle you feel compelled to do. It could be words, or an ingredient.
Savannah’s spell. The missing piece.
In order to trigger the spell again, and get back to my world, I needed to find rain.
The gray-skinned creature was still waiting for an answer. I raised my gaze, holding the blanket so tightly I could feel the bite of my nails. When I spoke, I expected my voice to be a thin rasp. Instead, it was steel.
“My name is Fortuna Sworn,” I said. “And I’m here to see your king.”
Hell wasn’t a pit of flames.
Lucifer had told me it wasn’t, but now I knew he’d been telling the truth. As one of his creatures carried me through the city, I looked around with bleary curiosity. It felt like we were on the outskirts. There were oddly-shaped shanties on either side—or at least, I thought they were shanties. The walls looked like they were made of packed dirt. We weren’t alone in the street, but the figures I did see—they looked human—were either lying on the ground or walking listlessly. With the flickering horizon and dark sky, everything had an eerie feel to it.
Savannah’s spell had worked. I was in Hell.
Traveling between dimensions had taken its toll, though. Not just mentally, but physically. Back in that vast room full of rocks, I’d quickly discovered I couldn’t walk. After watching me attempt to stand half a dozen times, the gray-skinned creature had unceremoniously lifted me in his arms, which were as thick as the branches on my tree in the dreamscape. He’d carried me outside without comment and started in the direction of the skyscrapers I had seen in my dream.
“Where are you taking me?” I mumbled. I didn’t even try to fight him. Talking took up too much of my energy.
The creature’s answer made his chest rumble, and I felt the vibrations against my shoulder as he said, “The king’s tower.”
Hearing those words made the fog around my mind begin to dissipate. Though seeing Lucifer was inevitable, not to mention necessary, I felt a rush of panic. Now I did fight the urge to struggle. Seeking a distraction, I tipped my head back to appraise the creature’s stoic face. It took me several seconds to say, “What is your name?”
He kept walking, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. “I don’t have one, my lady.”
No name? But why? Because he hadn’t been given one, or because he’d forgotten it?
Before I could decide whether or not to pry, something darted past us—it looked like a cat, but the cats I’d seen didn’t have fan-like webbing on their backs or fangs that nearly touched the ground. I still didn’t have full use of my arms or legs, but I could move them. I pointed at the animal and asked, “What is that?”
“It’s called a bajang,” the creature carrying me said. Then he added, like an afterthought, “They survive off blood.”
Oh. Lovely, I thought weakly.
Other things moved in the shadows, too. Some of them had eyes that glowed. They must’ve been intimidated by the creature carrying me, because nothing came into the open or tried to attack us. I wanted to ask my champion more questions, but I knew I needed to conserve what little strength I had for the encounter with Lucifer. The words I couldn’t say crowded in my throat. How could I feel everything even though I didn’t have a body? Were souls endlessly tortured here, as my world believed? And most importantly, what was that smell? It clung to the air like mold, so putrid that my nose was beginning to sting. The creature carrying me didn’t seem to notice.
Those questions became quieter as I stared at the strange new world I found myself in. The deeper we went into the city, the more it changed. The packed-down street became a smooth road of stone. The shanties became buildings, no, businesses. There were neon signs—they had electricity here?—and the streets and sidewalks overflowed with so many different animals and creatures that I found myself questioning if this was a dream again. And the noise. Contraptions that looked like steampunk carriages rolled past, and the beasts pulling them had long trunks where a muzzle would be on a horse. They brayed and stomped their cracked hooves. Figures lounged against walls, many of them naked, not all of them human-looking. Were the ones that did look human souls from my world?
It was too loud to ask the creature above me, but at least we’d left the stench behind. The urge to gag subsided as I continued to take it all in.
