“Regardless,” Boral says, turning my way. “Your bridge endured and got us over safely. Well done.”
“Yes, well done,” Carrick agrees, eyes shining with pride. “And I’m wondering if you’d like the honor of trying to open the veil into the Underworld?”
I knew I could open veils, but they had been to Faere where I’d already been before. This was something new, yet I was eager to try, as evidenced by how exuberantly I nod my head.
“Then give it a go,” he says, sweeping his hand toward the area roughly where we’d cross into the Underworld.
I close my eyes for a second, imagine my power and having unlimited abilities to do whatever I wanted at my disposal.
When I open them, I envision ripping into the veil and commanding the Underworld to expose itself to me.
And it does.
CHAPTER 7
Finley
The fables, stories, and myths of Hell were nothing like I envisioned when I visited the Underworld in my dream. The same holds true now as we step through the veil into what seems to be a monstrously large cavern that rises so high into the air that I can’t see the top—just generalized darkness that could resemble a night sky.
I always envisioned Hell would be an inferno of flames and smoke, echoes of screaming souls reverberating, and the stench of death all around.
There’s none of that.
Yes, The Pit off to the left glows orange and throws off heat, but it’s bearable. The circumference is not much wider than the Crimson River, so maybe at least two hundred feet or more in diameter. It’s still difficult to comprehend the river’s directional flow, especially on this side of the veil. From the depths of The Pit, the river defies gravity and flows up and out of it before turning parallel to the ground and heading in the direction of Micah’s realm, where it seems to cut off right where the veil exists.
I see why Boral brought us in on this side of the river because had we come in on the other side, we would have been trapped by sloping hills of rock and shale that encircle that portion of The Pit. It provides a horseshoe-shaped wall. When I examine it more closely, I see that cages are built into it. Square holes cut into the side, covered with thick bars, but it’s so dark inside that I can’t tell what’s being held captive.
“Demon experiments,” Boral says, and I turn to him. He nods his chin up at the individual prisons—hundreds and hundreds. “Kymaris feeds them the most vile souls that get sent to the Underworld. She then trains them for her personal use.”
I can’t stifle the tremor that moves up my spine.
Boral seeks to reassure me, obviously either seeing or sensing my reaction. “Don’t worry. They don’t roam free in the cities. They mostly reside in Kymaris’ castle or the wastelands between cities. But make no mistake, she’ll free them all when the veil comes down.”
He then points in the opposite direction, a wide stone road meandering over some low-slung hills of stone and dirt. Dead trees and bushes dot the landscape, and it’s clear they were never actually green and fertile. Just dead from the start.
Kymaris’ black castle rises—black obsidian with the orange glow of the Pit shimmering in the reflection. It’s nothing but tall, pointed spires of varying heights, probably only about half as large as Nimeyah’s castle, but, oddly… I like the architecture of it better. It’s not gaudy or flamboyant… just ominous as one would expect the Queen of the Underworld’s castle to be.
“This is the way to Otaxis,” Boral says, turning toward another path that cuts the space between The Pit and the castle. It curves around a craggy hill where I can’t see what’s on the other side, but given my last visit here, I’m sure the city is right there. I remember being on the opposite side of Otaxis and seeing the glow of The Pit from my vantage point up on a cliff, so I know they are nearby.
We all take a moment to discard the cold-weather gear, dumping it behind some rocks. We won’t be leaving this way, rather opening up the veil to lead us straight back to the condo as long as we are safe to do so. With our weapons in hand—me with my whip, Carrick and Maddox with swords, and Boral with long daggers holstered to each thigh, we make our way along the road to Otaxis.
As suspected, the massive city comes into view when we round the bend just the way I remember it from my dream.
Clusters of buildings built of mud and stone are separated by crude streets heavily lined with street vendors. The coloring of the city looks different, though, and I’m not sure if it’s because The Pit is at our back, casting light from behind us, or if my dream wasn’t in technicolor, but there’s a yellowish haze tinted slightly red hanging in the air. When I tip my head back, the cavern sky above us is still pitch black, but ahead of us and immediately surrounding the buildings, there’s an almost sulfurous glow that hangs heavy everywhere.
No gates seal off the city. Just hills and mounds of rocks to the left and right of the road that enters the bustle of Otaxis beyond.
Boral stops us before we enter, leading us off to the side of the road and behind an outcropping of rocks for privacy. I’m still wearing a zip-up hoodie, and Boral pointedly pulls it over my head and tugs it low over my forehead. “This isn’t going to disguise the fact you’re human if a Dark Fae takes a good look at you, but it will help to hide the bright beacon of your hair.”
He then looks to Maddox and Carrick. “Keep her in between you two. If anyone approaches us, let me do the talking.”
This is just a repeat of what Boral told us yesterday. He said that while Kymaris was the supreme ruler of the entire Underworld, the cities were run by the most criminal and corrupt Dark Fae. He likened them to the mob bosses who extort businesses for their personal gain and kill those that oppose their governance.
When I asked him about the royal Dark Fae, he merely said they rarely left the castle grounds, abandoning the cities to a sort of organized chaos under these mobster-like rulers.
“Ready to try to contact Zora?” Boral asks.
As decided, we’re going to try to make things easier by seeing if Zora will agree to a meeting before we go searching for her.
I nod and take a deep breath. Boral, Carrick, and Maddox face me, expressions guarded. I let the air out and prepare to close my eyes, but movement behind my companions startles me.
My eyes flare wide as a huge Dark Fae stands there, dressed head to toe in forest green leather and sporting massive wings folded behind his back but which I can see the rounded crests over his shoulders. The feathers are inky black and so glossy, they shimmer with a bluish color. I quickly duck my head so the hood shadows most of my face.
Boral, Carrick, and Maddox, reading my facial expression, immediately wheel around with their weapons drawn to face what surprised me.
The Dark Fae doesn’t even twitch but merely crosses his arms over his chest and plants his legs wide. He’s between us and the entrance to the city, and his message is clear.
We’re not going in.
“Who are you?” Carrick demands of the fae, but honestly… I only have half an ear on him. I’m fascinated with the fae’s wings. I thought they had all been stripped when they were tossed from Heaven.
I’m also fascinated by how uncannily gorgeous this winged man is. He’s got dark blond hair that’s cut extremely short to his scalp all the way around and has the perfect amount of facial scruff to make him look roguish. His blue eyes are dark as denim, yet seem cold as ice. While his entire body is covered in leather, I can tell by the bulges here and there that he’s incredibly muscular and from the way he stands facing off with two demi-gods and another Dark Fae, that he’s confident in his abilities.