Authors: Eve Langlais
“If a damned one gives you lip, toss them overboard. The monsters love a squeaky toy.” A tip overheard between Ferrymen.
What am I doing here?
Not for the first time, Adexios had to wonder.
Smart guys didn’t go wandering around in the wilds with an Amazon woman who kept hoping aloud that they’d “run into trouble,” and then threatening to “hunt trouble down,” if it didn’t find them.
He still couldn’t quite fathom how he’d ended up in this place. Adexios only vaguely recalled the hustle and bustle to get ready with Valaska prodding him to get his “skinny ass moving.” The last few days of him stalling, but being unable to shirk, seemed like a bad dream. A nightmare really that saw him entering a ring-to-ring portal transporter, followed by a long walk—because the enslavement of animals to carry lazy, entitled asses was wrong according to his companion. However who cared—other than his poor blistered feet—how he got here when the end result had led him here, to the edge of Hell.
Well, technically it was the edge of the ninth circle, but given that past this ring stretched the untamed and mostly unmapped wilds, he might as well say it was the end.
The end of me too more than likely.
He’d already almost died once when he tripped going in the portal and was spat out the other side, head first, which, in itself, wasn’t new. In the course of his life, he’d landed on his head too many times to count. However, the jagged head of the mace held by the portal guard would have probably hurt had he skidded an inch farther.
But that was yesterday. Today he faced a new challenge. Leaving the dubious safety of Hell for the certain danger of the wilds.
Before he took that moment-defining step over the boundary separating the zones, he paused.
I don’t know if I can do this.
“Why are you stopping?” Valaska asked, halting herself to peer at him over her shoulder.
He took a moment before replying, shoving his glasses up on his nose, wishing he’d worn more antiperspirant, given his linen shirt already stuck to his skin. “Aren’t you worried about setting foot in
there
?”
Her brow wrinkled. “No.”
“Aren’t you concerned by the possibility we’ll get lost?”
“No. I have an excellent sense of direction.”
Good thing one of them had that. Adexios had an ability to get lost sometimes between the supermarket and his apartment. He was convinced gremlins were conspiring and moving street signs on him.
“What of the danger we’ll face?”
“A girl needs exercise.”
“And what if there’s too many foes to beat?”
“Stop thinking so much. If it is our time to die, then we shall do so with glory. If it is our time to shine, then we shall emerge victorious.”
Trust in fate? Why not? It hadn’t killed him yet.
But then, of course, she would say the one thing to make him stumble as he finally took the deciding step.
“And should you not make it through, I will do my best to bring your body home to your family.”
Thunk
.
He met the ground of the wilds face first. Good news? His glasses didn’t break—at a young age, his parents had invested in the sturdiest frames they could find. He also observed that this dirt proved just as hard and unyielding as the one he liked to say hello to on a regular basis back home.
“If you’re done communing with nature, could we get moving? I’d like to be well into the interior before nightfall. I hear the farther in we go, the bigger the beasts.”
That announcement alone should have sent him to his feet, running in the opposite direction. However, having faced down most of the Styx sea monsters, he found that didn’t scare him as much as it should have. The prospect, though, of spending days, maybe weeks, alone with Valaska terrified him.
Was it possible to desire a woman who, at the same time, made him shiver? In fear, or longing…maybe both?
Scrambling to his feet, he took a moment to dust himself off while she rolled her eyes and tapped her foot impatiently.
“Shall we?” he asked, sweeping an arm in a grand gesture toward the faint path that led yonder.
“About time,” she grumbled, hefting her spear and taking long strides into the dark jungle.
Hoping nothing lurked in the treetops, he followed her.
For hours, they trekked through the green morass. Hell’s version of a sun didn’t penetrate the thick canopy much, leaving it a dank and damp place. Life thrived in this hellacious ash forest, the trees big monoliths that stretched high and whose gnarly trunks were thick, thick enough to hide any number of predators.
Eyes constantly darting, Adexios watched for danger. He almost turned blue he held his breath so many times. Yet, nothing popped out at them. Not even a four-eared, flame-tailed hell bunny.
Of the insects, though, they saw many. But at least they were of a normal-sized variety, easily slapped to death. But rumor had it the farther in a person lost themselves, the bigger and more aggressive the bug life got.
Around the noon hour—and yes, he knew what time it was because he’d brought a watch—he found himself a thick-looking log and, draping a plastic tarp he’d brought over it, seated himself.
Valaska, who’d continued a few paces, didn’t take long to notice. She turned and, upon spotting him sitting cross-legged on the log, asked, “What are you doing?”
Pausing in the process of yanking a plastic-sealed container from his bag, he replied, “Having lunch.”
“You brought food?” she said, her tone pitched with incredulity.
“Well, yeah. Didn’t you?”
“Not the kind that needs a fork.”
Having twirled some pasta on the said offensive utensil, he popped it in his mouth and chewed before replying. “What’s wrong with eating leftover spaghetti?”
“We’re on a quest. You’re supposed to bring proper food for the field such as ration bars, freeze-dried meals, smoked jerky, trail mix.”
“You can eat those, if you like. As for me”—he took another bite and chewed with obvious pleasure—“I’ll stick to Ma’s packed lunches.”
“How many meals did you manage to pack in that bag? And how long do you think they’ll last without refrigeration?”
“First off, they’re not in my bag. They’re in my mom’s fridge.”
Judging by the glazed look in her eyes, he’d lost her.
“This is a special knapsack. A going-away present from my parents. It’s got a space-time continuum pocket that leads right to a shelf in my parents’ fridge. Mom was worried about me not getting the proper kind of food and wasting away to skin and bones.”
Actually, her exact words were, “we don’t need you turning into your father.”
“So, they made sure I wouldn’t starve. You’re more than welcome to have some.” He reached in and pulled out another container. “Here, take this one. It’s labeled goulash, homemade of course. It’s my dad’s favorite dish.”
“No.” Valaska shook her head, sending her blonde ponytail whipping. “Keep your food and your weird pocket. I am an Amazon. We feed ourselves with what we can scrounge from the land.”
“Like what?” he asked, looking around and making a grimace. “I don’t see anything edible around here.”
Pulling forth the knife she had strapped on her hip, Valaska slashed at some foliage. “This is similar to salad.” She shoved some in her mouth and chewed. “Just a bit more bitter. But it’s got tons of vitamins.”
He poked at a meatball in his dish and held it up. “This is one hundred percent beef protein, imported from the mortal realm, mixed with onion, spices, and then fried before being added to the sauce.” He popped it in his mouth and let out a groan. “Delicious.”
“Delicious is a nicely smoked piece of pitmoose.” She pulled a piece of jerky out of a pouch at her waist and grabbed it with her lips. She worried at the tough strip, twisted and ground at it with her teeth until a piece broke off. Then she chewed, and chewed, and chewed. “Mmm. Nothing like it.”
“Well, since you’re enamored with eating al fresco, don’t let me bother you. I’ll just finish my pasta, and pie, in silence, envying you the leather and weeds you’re dining on.”
At her glare, he couldn’t help but laugh, and yes, he might have purposely enjoyed his meal more than he should have, mostly because she regarded him with such hunger. Such desire…
It didn’t matter that she coveted his food and not him. His body didn’t make a distinction. His cock swelled, and all his nerve endings lit with awareness.
When she said, “Don’t move,” just as he was about to spoon another chunk of apple pie in his mouth, he froze.
She stalked toward him, gaze intent.
What did she plan? What would she do?
He held his breath, waiting to find out.
Valaska leaned down, low enough that he could see into the shadowy vee of her cleavage.
Adexios swallowed hard.
She drew close, so close he could have narrowed the gap between them and tasted her lips.
“Stay still,” she admonished.
No problem. He was turned to petrified stone once he saw the knife.
“Never let them see death coming, unless you want to hear them cry.” Advice from Ruthless Mary after a few grogs.
Her geeky companion’s eyes widened behind his lenses as her knife left its sheath. He opened his mouth. Determined to silence him, she plastered her lips over his while, at the same time, striking at the snake dangling overhead.
Thing was, while the ploy to keep him quiet worked, it had an unintended side effect. Her libido fired up.
His lips, while soft appearing, weren’t so compliant when it came to kissing. Her repressed geek knew how to make the most of a kiss.
Sensual slides. A tug of a lower lip. Hot, panting breath.
Completely wrong time, wrong place, wrong guy. Valaska pulled away from him and saw his eyes blink at her owlishly from behind his glasses.
“What was that?” he asked.
“Me saving your life. And this,” she said as she snuck the bite of pie hanging precariously from his spoon, “is my reward.” Not exactly the reward a certain throbbing spot between her legs would have liked, but it would have to do.
Odd how the stolen bit didn’t taste as good as the taste she’d gotten from his lips.
Leaning away from him, she pulled out a rag and wiped the gore from her knife. It was then Adexios noted the severed snakehead on the log beside him.
To his credit, he didn’t flinch or scream. To her surprise, he leaned closer for a look.
“This is interesting,” he noted, using his spoon to turn the head so he could peek at the eyes. “I don’t believe this species is native to Hell.”
“I’m glad you find that interesting,” she snapped, only a little miffed he showed more interest in the dead reptile than the kiss they’d shared.
The least he could do is act in awe for a little while longer.
And now she was whining like the younger girls in her tribe who’d just discovered boys.
Ugh. She was a mature warrior who didn’t place much stock in kisses. Apparently, neither did he.
“It is interesting because, if I’m not mistaken, this bad boy is from the mortal plane.”
“From Earth?” She frowned. “But how?”
“There are a few possibilities. One, someone smuggled one back in and either lost it or set it free.”
“The Hell-Eco Preservation Society won’t like that.” Those nutjobs were all about keeping Hell the most awful place to live. Any measures to stem the flow of ash by installing filters or introducing outside species to control the hellroaches and other pests were soundly met with opposition. Hell was hell. If you didn’t like it, then don’t fucking sin. “What’s the other possibility?”
“An unauthorized rift between our world and the mortal plane.”
“Wouldn’t Lucifer know about it?”
“Not if someone created it out here in the wilds.”
“But the amount of power needed to do that—”
“Would be stupendous. I know. Other than Lucifer, Gaia, and God, there aren’t many beings that could summon the kind of power to create something permanent like a portal between planes.”
“Maybe it was a quickie rip and something slipped through.”
“Maybe,” he mused aloud, but he didn’t sound convinced, and she noted he took even more note than before of their surroundings.
What did he see that had him looking so pensive?
With their meal finished—hers leaving her stomach less than happy, the jerk. How dare he make her scrounging pale in comparison—they set off again. But this time, she didn’t lead the way. It seemed her geeky companion, with the discovery of the Earth snake, had found an enthusiasm for their mission that he lacked before.
With him ahead of her, she found herself not only paying attention to their surroundings but his butt.
As butts went, it wasn’t big, and his khakis weren’t tight. Yet, his tall, lanky frame, and the way his waist tapered to it, drew attention, especially since he strode with confidence.
How strange. Whereas before he’d regarded their surroundings with suspicion, expecting monsters to jump out from every pocket of shadow, now he strutted, pausing only long enough to peruse more closely a spider on a leaf and a rather vivid pink flower that seemed out of place. Now that he’d put on his observer persona, he had all the courage necessary.
And as to the handful of predators that crept behind him, and down trees, looking to pounce on this man who would disturb their home, she quietly disposed of them.
Not that there were many.
Certainly not enough compared to the stories she’d heard about this place. Those of her tribe who’d wandered the wilds in search of glory had returned with grandiose stories of the non-stop battles they’d fought against the beasts that lived within.
Had her tribe mates exaggerated, or was there something wrong?
Around mid afternoon, the latter seemed more likely as the trees thinned, but not because there were fewer of them. More because they appeared to be dying.
Gray trunks, barren branches, and a ground littered in moldy leaves. This was not the appearance of a thriving forest.
Adexios stopped abruptly. Curious, she came alongside, but before she could speak, he pointed at a hump, covered in a dusting of ash, just ahead on the faint trail.
When the lump twitched, she drew her sword.
“I do believe we’ve found our first demon,” he whispered.
A demon that wouldn’t live long enough to serve his lord.
Valaska stood over the barely breathing body and feared touching it, with reason. The demon’s once-red skin, which in healthy specimens shone bright, the fiery color the unmistakable mark of a fire imp, had faded to a rusty orange streaked with gray. However, it was the blotches and open sores that oozed yellow pus that kept her from touching.
Adexios showed no such fear. He knelt beside the creature and placed his hand on the dry, cracked skin of its forehead. “He’s not feverish. A bad sign for his kind.”
“Is he contagious?”
“No.” Said with utter certainty.
“How can you be so sure?”
He flicked her a glance. He must have seen the doubt in her face and offered her a reassuring smile. “These wounds are burn marks. The skin eaten away as if from some acidic substance or hot source. Whatever he came in contact with must have contained something poisonous to his kind. See how the edges are gray, and there are no signs of healing? His immune system has been compromised. It’s why his body is shutting down and his fire is burning low.”
“He’s dying.”
“Yes.”
“How do you know all this? I thought you were simply a ferry man, not a doctor.”
“I am a boatman to the souls. Not a very good one though, and that is why I spend my off-duty hours studying.”
“Studying?” Her nose wrinkled.
“You needn’t say it like it’s such a dirty word,” he chided with a chuckle. “Some of us prefer to exercise our brains instead of our bodies.”
“So, since you’re so smart, geek boy, what did this to him?” Because whatever it was, if it proved that virulent to demons, then it would prove deadly to them with their more fragile, humanish traits.
Amazon women might prove tough, but they were mortal.
“I have no idea what did this, but maybe this fellow can tell us?”
“And how will you manage that? He’s unconscious. Are you going to read his mind?”
“I have something that should wake him up.” Adexios pulled a flask from a pocket in his knapsack and wiggled the stopper from it. He tipped it over and let a few drops hit the demon’s lips.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then the imp swallowed.
Its eyes shot open, dark orbs with jagged red streaks. It sucked in a deep breath and sat upright with a yell. “Fuck a duck!”
“I don’t think they’d like that,” Adexios replied, with the most serious mien.
She almost giggled.
Get a hold of yourself.
This was not a time for mirth.
Taking a look around, the demon took stock of their surroundings before facing Adexios with a suspicious frown. “Who are you?” growled the red imp. “And what did you give me? It felt cold. But good.”
“I gave you a few drops of water from the Garden of Life.”
In spite of herself, Valaska was impressed. The stuff was extremely hard to acquire. Mother Nature held it under strict lock and key, the rumors declaring that too much of it released in the world would unbalance the natural order.
Things had to die in order for others to be born.
But, in spite of Mother Nature’s rigid stance, some of the valuable water still ended up on the white market, and those damned angels who peddled it drove a hard bargain.
“I need more,” the demon demanded.
Adexios shook his head.
Not the answer the imp wanted. It lunged for Adexios.
The stupid man didn’t move. He let the imp grab a hold of him and yank him close.
“Give. Me. More.”
“I have no more,” Adexios lied. And she knew it was a lie for she’d seen how carefully he poured and then stoppered the bottle before tucking it behind him, hidden from sight. “Even if I did, given the severity of your wounds, you’d need more than a few flasks to clear you of this malignancy.”
The demon snarled, showing sharp teeth, and yet Adexios didn’t flinch.
“Getting mad at me won’t change things. Tell me what happened.”
“Why? I’m going to die. Who the fuck cares?” the demon whined, releasing Adexios and lying back on the ground with a dramatic fling of his upper body. “Why should I tell you?”
“You should tell me so I can stop it from happening again.”
The demon said nothing, staring instead at the dying jungle canopy over him.
Valaska knew the right words to make him talk. “We will give you vengeance. We shall spill blood in your name. Make those who did this to you scream in agony.”
“Really?” This drew the imp’s interest, and a sickly smile stretched its cracked, black lips.
“Yes. I give you my word as a warrior that we will hunt thy enemy and smite it.” She punched the palm of her hand with a fist.
“Tell us what happened,” Adexios prompted.
“Happened?” The demon cackled, the sound feeble and ending with a wet, gasping cough. It seemed the initial adrenaline the water had given him had already worn off. “I will tell you what happened. Impossible beauty. Purest evil. I thought I’d found rapture.”
“But?”
“Decay. Despair. Darkness.” The imp’s eyes widened, and the black orbs took on a milky cast. “We must flee. Hide. Now. We must run.” The demon bolted upright and wobbled on his taloned feet.
Adexios grabbed him lest he fall over. “Why must we run and hide?”
Black ichor began to leak from the demon’s eyes and nose. His breathing emerged in choppy gasps. “Death is coming. Death is here. And it looks like…looks…like…”
The demon sagged and fell backward, the sudden slump too abrupt for Adexios, who lost his grip.
Dropping to his knees, Adexios leaned close, very close as the demon uttered his last dying breath and words.
Valaska didn’t hear it, but judging by Adexios’ grim expression he had.
Getting to his feet, he walked away from the corpse. He gathered his things.
“What are you doing?”
“We have to go.”
“Wait. What did he say? What did this to him?”
Adexios faced her, his face still grim, but not afraid. Was that determination she spied in his eyes?
“The demon said
she
is coming. And she intends to remake our world.”