Armageddon (Angelbound) (16 page)

“Show me your wrist.”

I know what he wants to see. I turn my right hand over, showing the Looking Glass image of Maxon. Unlike last time, he sits calmly in his cell, his eyes all white. Hildy’s in control and protecting him. Armageddon hasn’t started to torture him yet.

Lincoln stares at me for a long minute. His face is unreadable, all stony features and Kingly calm. He slips his hand into mine. “I’m going with you.”

“No, you’re not. You’ll help Dad with the war and with Maxon, in case I fail.”

“We both saw what happened to Hildy’s friend Marcus after just an hour in the torture pits. And we both know that Armageddon will make the torture pits look like a holiday. Marcus was a grown man and Maxon’s only a child. If there’s any way we can spare him this kind of pain, then we have to do it.” He starts to pull me down the hallway.

“Where are you taking me?”

“To the Demon Patrol prep rooms. If I’m going with you, I can’t go like this. I have body armor and supplies in there.”

Panic shoots through my limbs, freezing me in place. I stop Lincoln from dragging me anywhere. “But what if my plan is terrible? I can’t be responsible for Maxon losing both of us.”

Lincoln cups my face in his hands. “Your plan sounds brilliant to me, Myla. You were the only one who thought to ask questions instead of getting caught up in the thrill of war. In fact, the only flaw in your thinking is that you didn’t ask me to join you.”

A warm and yummy feeling spreads through my rib cage. “Brilliant, huh?”

He kisses me once, gently. “Totally insane, but brilliant.”

Kiya paws at my face and makes soothing chatter.

“See?” asks Lincoln. “Even Kiya agrees with me.”

“On which part?”

“All of it, I think.” Bit by bit, he tilts his head forward until our foreheads touch. When he speaks once more, his voice cracks with a mixture of love and pain. “I can’t bear the thought of losing you, Myla. Wherever you go, that’s where I want to be. Always. Promise me that you’ll never leave again without talking to me first.”

“I promise, Lincoln.”

He exhales a long sigh. “And that’s all I need to hear.”

I tumble through black and empty space, my left hand clasped with Walker’s, my right entwined with Lincoln’s. Kiya sits on my shoulder, as much as anyone can sit when you’re spinning through darkness like a dried leaf. Kiya’s tail is wrapped tightly around my neck while his little hands grip my ear so tightly, he could draw blood.

Kiya’s no fan of travelling by portal. Unfortunately, that’s all we’ve done for the last hour as Walker tries to find the Walls of Hell, which are somewhere in the Plains of Fire. It wasn’t easy to talk him into helping us, but Walker gave in once he realized that we’d find another ghoul if he didn’t agree.

Within the pitch darkness, a tall door-shaped rectangle of crimson light appears. Somehow, Walker aims our whirling bodies toward the portal’s exit. Together, we somersault out the opened door-hole and onto a scorching hot stretch of sand. Waves of stifling heat envelop my body. A foul, oily smell assaults my senses.

We’re here. At the Plains of Fire. Again.

I slowly rise to my feet and look around. We’ve emerged in a low desert valley surrounded by stepped plateaus, spouts of fire, and burned-out brush. My tail pounds my thigh in frustration. There’s no wall anywhere in sight.

“Why are these things called Plains again?” I groan. “This place is basically a valley. And the last spot we hit was downright mountainous.”

Walker chuckles, low and soft. “My dear Myla-la, why would the name of the lands surrounding Hell be anything but misleading?”

Okay, he has a point.

Kiya tightens his death-grip on my earlobe while chatting angrily away at high-speed. I pet his back in soothing strokes. “Sorry, we didn’t find it this time, friend.”

Friend.

That’s what Nefer had called Kiya and I’m quickly learning why that’s the perfect term to describe my little critter. From his perch on my shoulder, Kiya lets out a never-ending stream of excited chitters, screeches and growls. No question about it. If I were trapped in a prison cell for two hundred years, I’d definitely want Kiya with me.

Lincoln brushes the sand off his black body armor and then sets down his massive backpack.
Good idea, honey
. I do the same. This crazy-heavy sack will be no-fun to drag through Hell, but we can’t count on finding any water coolers or takeout menus. We’ve also packed ourselves flare guns and an all-purpose death potion, if the need arises. I actively try not to think about that part.

“I’ll check for look-out points on the plateau,” says Lincoln. He jogs off, scoping out the landscape as he goes.

Kiya watches him leave, launching into a fresh round of grumbles while gesturing wildly at Walker.

That’s one angry monkey.

“Come now, Kiya.” I say soothingly. “Walker’s trying his best. He needs a little more direction from you, that’s all.”

With a high-pitched chirp, Kiya leaps down from my shoulder and walk-gallops across the desert floor, yammering madly as he paces around in circles. Small puffs of dust appear behind him with the movement. After a minute, he pauses and points toward the southwest.

Walker steps up to my side. “Let me guess. He wants us to go in that direction, eh?”

“Wow. It’s like you speak monkey.”

Lincoln jogs back to join our group. “I’ve scoped out the surrounding area. Unfortunately, I think we’re a long way from the Walls of Hell.”

“If you had to guess, how far would you say we are?”

“Five leagues to the southwest.”

I punch him gently in the upper arm. I knew he’d nail it. Lincoln’s spent years hunting and tracking his ass across every terrain there is. “That’s what Kiya said, too. Well, just the southwest part.” I rub my palms together. “We better give it another try. What do you say, Walker?”

“Uh, how about we take a break?” Walker stares guiltily at his colorless hands. “We’ve been at it for an hour now. You must be tired. Maybe we could portal back to the Dark Lands for something to eat?”

“Walker,” I say with a sigh. “We’ve been over this already. Lincoln and I are not going back to the Dark Lands to tell Xavier what we’re doing.”

“This isn’t right,” explains Walker. “Your father took me in and trained me when no one would consider me anything but a ghoul.”

“You’re part Aquilinean, same as me,” says Lincoln. “As part of the bloodline of the archangel Aquila, you were never just any ghoul.”

“No one else saw it that way. I owe Xavier. It feels wrong to secret off his daughter to Hell without letting him know.”

“Not a chance, Walker. If I talk to Dad, he’ll just try to railroad me into war. That won’t save Maxon. Not really.” I poke him on his bony shoulder. “If Lincoln and I can rescue our boy before he’s seriously tortured by Armageddon, then we have to try. And we can’t afford to waste time while Dad attempts to talk us out of this. Every second we wait, Maxon’s at risk. Hildy’s protection could run out at any second.”

Walker rubs his sideburns anxiously. “It would only take an hour.”

“No, Walker, and that’s final. Now open the damn portal or go home.” Worry spikes through my belly and I glance at my wrist. Inside the Looking Glass, Maxon leans against the prison wall, knees pulled against his chest, sobbing quietly.

“See this?” I thrust the image into Walker’s face. “My child is trapped and I will save him, make no mistake.”

Walker stares at the image and winces. “But your father could help.”

“Dad’s your guy if you want a war and that’s it, Walker.” I yank my wrist away. “Enough. Lincoln and I would rather hike through the desert alone than have this conversation every five minutes.”

Walker turns plaintive eyes toward Lincoln. “Is that really what you’d say?”

“Word for word, Shield Brother.” He points to a spot on the horizon. “Five leagues to the southwest.”

Walker opens another portal. Our little group steps through, tumbles through more darkness, and then rolls out onto a new patch of fiery desert. This time we’ve come out on flatlands.

I shield my eyes and scan the landscape. A darkened green line snakes across the reddened landscape. My heartbeat speeds with excitement.

This is it. The Walls of Hell.

Lincoln steps up to my side, wrapping his long arm around my waist. “We found it.”

Kiya bobs on my shoulder, chattering happily.

I slip my hand into Lincoln’s. “We better go.” I glance over my shoulder at Walker. He stands like a forlorn sentinel, a white-faced figure in black robes against the backdrop of red desert.

“Thanks, Shield Brother,” says Lincoln.

“I know this was hard for you.” I try to smile, although it comes off as more of a squint. “I appreciate your standing by us. And Maxon, too.”

Walker’s large all-black eyes glisten with emotion. “You go along now. I’ll be waiting.”

“We don’t know how long it will take,” I say.

“Or where we’ll come out,” adds Lincoln.

“That doesn’t matter,” says Walker simply. “I’ll be here.”

I frown. “It’s not exactly safe.”

Walker shakes his head. “You’re going into Hell and you’re worried about me?”

I shift my weight from foot to foot. “Yeah, I guess. I know you’re a trained warrior but you’re like my brother and I never want to say—”

“Don’t utter those words.” Walker steps up and sets his hand in mine. His skin feels cool and firm. “No farewells. Get out quickly and use your flare guns. I’ll find you.”

My voice cracks as we start to walk away. “Bye, Walker.”

“No,” he says sternly. “See you soon.”

# # #

We’ve been hiking for an hour and damn, do I ever want a drink of water. But we need to be stingy with our supplies, so Lincoln and I are only allowing ourselves the equivalent of a shot-glass full of liquid every two hours. Kiya gets all he wants since he drinks so little anyway. Besides, it’s impossible to refuse his cute little face and button eyes.

As the minutes tick by, the Walls of Hell loom larger and larger. In retrospect, we shouldn’t have sent Walker away so quickly. From our landing-spot, it looked like the wall was a stubby thing that was a short walk away.

Boy, was that ever wrong.

Lincoln pauses, shielding his eyes from the glaring sun. “We’ve got company.”

I stare in the same direction he’s looking. “I don’t see anything.” Kiya bounces on my shoulder and gestures excitedly in the same direction. “Kiya sees it, though. What am I missing?”

“You have to look—”

A black line appears on the horizon. “Oh, wait. I can see them now. Riders on horseback. Normally, I can’t find stuff like you do. At least, not when it’s so far away.”

“They
were
really far away. Now, not so much.”

I shake my head in confusion. “How did they get closer so quickly?”

“They’re ghoul-demon hybrids, Myla. Bandits.”

Eew.

“That’s not good.”

There’s a lot of human trafficking that goes on in Hell. Bandits abduct living mortals and then sell them to Armageddon at a huge profit. Most of these criminals are greedy ghouls, looking to make some quick gold. Normally, I wouldn’t worry because ghouls are notoriously crappy warriors, except for Aquilineans like Walker. But a hybrid?

“What’s the mix?” I ask.

“If I had to guess, I’d say they’re a cross between ghoul and demon rider.”

A lead weight of disgust settles onto my shoulders. Demon riders are like undead cowboys on steroids. And with a ghoul mix in them? They can create portals to pop in and out wherever they want. Dangerous stuff.

I scan the horizon again. “Where’d they get to now?”

The air fills with the pounding of hooves as four hybrid bandits ride out of separate portal doors, bearing down on us. The riders are rotting corpses with chunks of pink flesh torn from their faces and hands. They whoop with evil glee, lassos spinning high in the air.

“Lookie here!” cries the tallest rider. “And we didn’t even have to portal to Earth to catch these two or nothin’!”

As much as I love the water bottles in my backpack, I can’t fight properly with so many extra pounds on my shoulders. Quick as a heartbeat, I ditch the pack and leap high into the air, somersaulting backward until I land right behind the tallest hybrid, balancing on the horse’s backside. I drop to sit behind the rider. His head spins around one hundred and eighty degrees to look me right in the eyes.

“Aren’t you a clever filly?” Up close, I can see his teeth jutting through his decaying cheeks.

“Guess what else I can do?” I grip the rider’s skull between my hands, twist hard, and tear it off his neck. It pulls free with a satisfying pop. “That.”

The dead body slumps off the horse; I chuck the head in the opposite direction. Beneath me, the demon horse goes berserk, bucking on its hind legs and whinnying up a storm. It knows its rider is gone and is none to happy.

I grip the saddle, ready to hoist myself off the horse and back onto the ground, when a pair of ropes land right around my chest. Two of the other riders have lassoed me, pinning my arms to my side.

Luckily, they didn’t get my tail.

The arrowhead end of my tail swipes around me, slicing through the ropes. I spring off the horse and look for Lincoln. He stands nearby with his baculum ignited as a long-sword. One of the other demon horses has been decapitated and Lincoln is skewering its rider through the chest.

The remaining two riders circle us, howling and yelping with rage. They open a new pair of ghoul portals and charge through them, disappearing from the desert. An odd silence follows after they’re gone.

“Do you think they’ll come back?” I ask.

“Yup.”

“I was afraid you’d say that.”
Because that’s exactly what I was thinking, too.

A portal opens right before me, revealing a rider on a black horse. The demon animal rears on its hind legs, its front hooves suspended in the air for a moment before slamming down toward the exact patch of ground where I’m standing. I roll away at the last second, but not before a fresh round of rope loops around my ankle.

The rider bursts forward, dragging me across the desert floor. I eat a mouthful of dirt and rock before I gain enough sense to cut through the rope again with my tail. I look over for Lincoln. The other rider tried the same trick with him, only Lincoln was able to cut himself free with his baculum. We both look like we’ve been dragged through a mile of desert.