The Labyrinth of the Dead (15 page)

"And what now? You are the Queen of the
Here-After. All of Salus lies at your feet, in ruins."

"I am finishing what I began years ago,
and you have been such good help, Portia." She glanced up, and the light took
on a prismatic glow, swirling like the aurora borealis. "It won’t be long now. And
then, what? Will you join me in triumph or will I be forced to dispatch with
you instead?"

Celestine shook her head and the chains
whispered against her flesh. Without a backward glance, Kanika snapped her
wrist forward and yanked the woman to her knees. "See how she is the one who
kneels before me in this place? She is the mistress of it no longer."

"You won’t find my legs so
accommodating to bend to you."

"So tart, Portia. You might want to
mind your tongue. I do not take kindly to termagants." Kanika struck the small
woman who crouched beside her, knocking her veil askew and sending her long
brown braid whipping around her shoulders. The brunette fell gracelessly,
striking her jaw against the floor. A spatter of bronze blood splashed from her
mouth.

"She would not keep her opinions to
herself." Kanika plucked a shadow-gold coin from the front of her blouse. She
rolled it between her knuckles, just like Nigel used to, back and forth several
times before taking it between her thumb and forefinger. "I hadn’t realized it
was so easy to do. Just closed her tongue in my hand and squeezed. It came away
with hardly a sound and only the smallest trickle of blood. It was so easy. I
was surprised Belial stopped where she did." Her gaze rested on the coin
hanging from Portia’s axe, then trickled down the silver chain that lead to
Imogen.

Portia pounced on it, yanking it from Kanika’s hands. The girl merely laughed and made no effort
to retrieve the restraint. "Go on. You hold her leash now. What will you do
with it?" Crossing her legs, she propped her elbows
on her knees and grinned. "She is the key to all of this and always has been.
You’ve got a choice to make. I’ll wait."

Portia wrapped the chain loosely over
her wrist, tracing it through the huddled women. She came to a small door at
the far side of the room. Glancing back, she saw Kanika watching her, a curious
smile playing across lips that Portia had once found endearing.

Portia turned her back on the girl and
opened the door.

—10—

SHE WAS alone in the room with a silver chain
wrapping both ankles and snaking up her legs to where it vanished beneath the
veil.

"Imogen," Portia whispered.

The young woman stirred but did not
answer.

"Imogen." Gathering more strength
behind her voice, Portia shut the door behind her and came slowly across the
room. "My love. Speak to me."

Her head turned, tilted to one side as
if listening. "Who is there?"

Portia fell to her knees beside her,
dropping the axe onto the floor, and touched her shoulder. "It’s me, Imogen.
It’s Portia."

She flinched at the touch. "Portia?"
The name seemed foreign in her mouth, although it was a word that she had
uttered in tenderness so many times before.

"Yes, love. We’re going to go home."

She shook her head. "Impossible."

"No." Portia drew back the veil. "No,
it’s not."

Imogen covered her face with her hands,
the chains chiming. "But it is. I am not Imogen."

"I would know you anywhere. Even when
you might not know yourself."

She sighed. "I may have been Imogen
once, but not any longer."

"Shhh, don’t
say that." Tenderly, Portia pulled Imogen’s hands
into her own. "You are and always will be my own true love. Nothing can change
that. Not time, nor death."

"You are optimistic." Her head was
still turned away, with her chin tucked down against her shoulder. "But if
anyone could, it would be you. I have seen what you are capable of."

Portia found herself smiling. "I am
Gyony. Just like you."

Imogen raised her face, returning the
smile sadly. "Gyony," she echoed. "Yes. I know what that means. Family."

"Yes. And they’re waiting for you. For
both of us." Portia stood and extended her hand. "Let’s get you out of these
chains and show Nigel that if we can kill him once, we can kill him again."

Imogen remained where she was, still
gazing blankly ahead.

Portia reached out toward her again.
"Come on."

It took two tries for Imogen to connect
with Portia’s outstretched fingers, and as she was helped to her feet, Portia
could finally see why. Imogen’s perfect meadow green
eyes were gone. In their stead were only sockets filled with darkness. Portia
remembered the vision she’d had, where shadows strange and deep had clung to Imogen’s face, obscuring her eyes. She had not understood
what it meant before. Anger boiled within her, but she pressed her lips
soothingly to Imogen’s cheek.

"Oh, my love," Portia whispered. "They
will pay for what they have done to you. Belial, Analise, Nigel, all of them. I
swear it."

"The axe."

"What?"

"The axe." Imogen crouched down and
groped for it, finally catching the pierced coin in her hand. She snapped it
free and let it lie on her palm. "Belial watched you through my eyes. From the
moment Kanika put that axe in your hands, she knew your every step. And so did
I."

"Imogen…"

With the coin clenched in her palm, it
seemed that Imogen could see. She threw her arms around Portia with confidence.
Gently, she ran her fingers across the sturdy feathers of Portia’s trembling
wings. "They suit you, you know. I always wished for them when I was a girl, to
be a proper angel and all."

Portia shrugged, feeling suddenly
self-conscious. "They serve their purpose, when they are not in the way."

"They do suit you, my heart."

Out in the main hall, a terrible racket
sounded through the door. Portia could hear Nigel swearing loudly in Kanika’s voice.

Imogen kissed her with a tenderness
that barely covered the raw emotion beneath. "Why is it that we never have the
time?"

The chain rattled, spooling out
quickly. Imogen tensed, readying herself for the jolt as it yanked her toward
the door.

"Hold still." Portia snatched up the
axe and swung with all her might, severing the chain with a spark a few feet
from Imogen’s ankles. "Do you trust me?"

"Haven’t I always?"

"Spread your legs."

"I am sure you have a halfway decent
reason for this, for this is hardly a time to be indecent, sadly." Still, she
did as she was told, standing with her feet as far apart as she could manage.
Portia struck the chains free from her legs and carefully unwrapped them.
Gently, she unthreaded the shackles from Imogen’s
wrists, caressing them gently as she touched them, and finally from around her
neck, letting her fingers stray into the soft curls that nestled at the base of
Imogen’s skull.

The shriek from outside the door
intruded in their reverie. It was followed by a heartrending sob.

Imogen shivered in response. "These
women have cared for me. Even though they knew they brought danger into their
midst, they welcomed me."

"I think that Celestine might not be as
saintly as you give her credit. No one here acts out of charity alone. She stood
to benefit from all of this; perhaps she still does." Portia frowned. "I think
I understand at least some of it now. We have to stop this. Are you ready?"

"As ready as I can be. But Portia, I
can’t do what I did before. I haven’t the magic. I can’t even see!"

"Yes, you do have the magic."

"No, I don’t.
Without the sigils and the incantations, I am useless."

"Imogen, listen to me. Those are things
of the mortal world. Those were the gateways that allowed you to touch your
spirit, your true nature. We are born of angels—why do we need sorcery? You are
all spirit now, with no body to trouble you. Call on the power, and it will be
there."

Portia’s own words haunted her. The
gateway. Imogen was the gateway between the living and the dead. Her body still
breathed somewhere in Penemue, yet her Nephilim soul wandered the shadow-side.
And everyone wanted to use her for their own gain.

Banishing those thoughts, Portia
reached into the front of her corset. "Maybe this will help."

In the small velvet bag was a necklace.
Portia had guarded it with her life since stepping through to the shadow-side.
It was the most precious thing she carried.

Although it was a simple trinket hung
on an old chain, Portia could see the waves of power that rose from it. Like
the fine smoky strands of incense, the magic encircled Imogen, making her seem
more corporeal.

"I brought this for you."

Imogen stood breathless with surprise.
She squeezed the coin in her hand, as if the pressure on it would let her see
more clearly. "Where did you find this?"

"In the ashes of the convent. When I
went back for Nigel’s books. It was in a box amid his things."

Trembling, she reached out for it. "I
was wearing it the night I…died."

Portia nodded. "I only realized that
after I found it. I never thought it meant so much to you." She held the chain
up and the little tarnished charm twisted slowly. A heart-shaped padlock with a
keyhole at its center.

Imogen laughed, joy brightening her
face. "Of course it meant something to me! You worked so hard to win it that
day at the village fair." She blushed. "Our first date."

"Take it."

Imogen seemed afraid to touch the
necklace, as if her hand might pass through it, but when Portia dropped it into
her palm, it sat there firmly. "Do you have…?"

Portia chewed her lip almost sheepishly
and shook the bag. Out fell an equally tarnished key charm attached to a ragged
ribbon. The heart-shaped key head bore a dozen empty indentations that had once
held tiny paste gems.

"Oh, you did keep it! You told me you
lost it!"

"I wish I hadn’t said that. I was just
so afraid of being too sentimental. I always wanted to tell you that I’d kept
it. But the time was never right." She felt thirteen years old again, blushing
and tongue-tied and desperate to be the perfect Gyony: resolute, tough, and
utterly untouched by such weaknesses as love and sentiment. "If I could go
back, I would never have hidden it from you. I would never have lied. You
deserved better from me. I’m sorry."

"Portia, you idiot!" Imogen threw her
arms around her neck and kissed her hard on the mouth. "You headstrong,
exhausting idiot!" Tears gathered at the edges of her empty eye sockets and ran
down her face in haphazard rivulets. "By all the saints in heaven, I love you.
And I never believed for a moment that you lost the key. You are a terrible
liar and always have been."

"You knew?" Portia’s blushed deepened.
"But why didn’t you call my bluff?"

Imogen shrugged and smothered a giggle.
"Who am I to blow your big, mean, brusque cover? Heaven forefend that Portia
Penemue, star prospect of House Gyony, lose her tough, warrior credibility
because she wore a key-to-your-heart charm on a pink ribbon around her wrist!"

"The ribbon is
mauve
," Portia
said. "At least it was, once. Appears to have gone a bit brownish-grey these days.
Here, let me help you. We don’t have much time." Portia lifted Imogen’s thick red hair from her neck, holding it away from
her body while Imogen fumbled at the clasp with shaking hands. After they had
both tugged on it and found it secure, Portia stepped back and smiled. "It’s
lovely. Still lovely after all these years."

"I can’t believe you found it in the
ashes."

"It was calling my name, I swear. It
just glittered in the light, amid all the ruins."

Imogen reached out a little uncertainly
and took the key charm from Portia. Even with the coin in her hand, her sight
was shaky. "Your turn."

Portia allowed Imogen to wrap the
ribbon around her left wrist a few times before tying it snugly. The tiny charm
felt cool against her skin, like a memory.

"Sweet sisters," came Kanika’s haunting call. "I don’t appreciate the company you
brought here!"

They could hear
the muffled sounds of battle from beyond the door.

Portia hefted the axe, ready to fight.
"Duty calls," she said.

"Duty always calls," Imogen sighed.

"Can you fight?"

"I can hardly see." She looked around
for someplace to keep the coin where it would be safe and still touch her skin.

"I need you to trust me again" Portia
took Imogen’s hand and held it to her mouth, kissing
her delicate knuckles.

"Always," Imogen whispered in reply.

It was easier than she had thought it
would be. Once the thought came to her, making it a reality was simple. Portia
slipped her fingertips under her eyelid and plucked loose her left eye. It came
away with small resistance and an audible
pop
, but she felt no pain. The
blood-touched sphere glowed softly as she pressed it gently into Imogen’s empty socket. With a fine caress, Portia smoothed
and settled the skin around it, pressing the palm of her hand over it in
blessing. Light blossomed there a moment, and Imogen gasped.

"What do you see?"

"I see you, all of you…you brought your
body! You don’t belong here like this. How did you manage, Portia?"

"It’s a long story, fit for another
time. Here, hold still. I need to give you the other."

"But how will you see?"

"Because I can do something you can’t.
Watch." Portia repeated her actions, taking her right eye and seating it into
the hungry hollow in her beloved’s skull. The world went terrifyingly dark.
"Imogen, give me the coin."

Portia could feel her trepidation as
Imogen pressed the coin into her hand with trembling fingers. "You can still
take this back, my love. You don’t need to do this."

Imogen’s bare feet sighed against the floor and Portia
found she could also hear the whisper of her gown against her flesh.