Alküzor roared, and a long, shady tongue launched out of the vortex’s opening.
Before I could respond, I heard Elysian stir from his position on the ground.
Elysian coughed, but crawled out to do battle. “I don’t need to win,” he said, as he faced Draco, “I just need to make sure you lose.”
With that, Elysian launched himself at Draco once more, this time grabbing onto his neck. Elysian’s nose snorted out fire and blood, as his eyes turned orange with pain and power.
He managed to wrestle Draco over to the void’s opening. Raiya and I watched in horror as he dived in, the darkness encasing him and Draco, as they both roared and burned with new levels of pain.
“Elysian,” I called. “Wait!”
Raiya was with me this time, as I leapt forward, casting myself into the foyer room of Hell.
☼15☼
Trial by Fire
I coughed and sputtered and gasped, as ash and soot flooded my vision and my throat. My wings fluttered around as much as they could, shielding me and Raiya from the worst of it.
“I’m supposed to follow your lead,” Raiya called from beside me.
“Don’t let go,” I begged her. There was something about this place that made the idea of loneliness all the more terrifying, and I was terrified enough.
All of a sudden, I saw my dream again—the one that had haunted me since Draco revealed himself. I saw Raiya, alone and unsure, and sad because there was nothing left to feel.
I tightened my grip on her.
I was almost grateful for the distraction as a loud, monstrous groan gutted out behind us.
That was the moment I got my first really good look at Alküzor. He was a demon of fire and density, collecting the matter of the world and eating up Time’s residue to keep the dreariness of his pride intact.
It was then that I realized Alküzor wasn’t just in Hell; he was Hell.
Or at least part of it. The fires around us burned black, and any light we had was painfully obscured—clear enough to taunt us, perhaps, but foggy enough to lose us.
On the other side of me, I could hear Elysian and Draco still fighting it out, though if they were doing so with each other or not, I couldn’t see.
I breathed in as deeply as I could without polluting my lungs beyond capacity, and then drew on my center of calm. In my one hand, I still clung to Raiya; in my other, I had my sword.
It was then, as I choked and struggled to remain strong, that I noticed I could see Draco’s sword below us. It was as black and burnt as the devil’s word, and I had to destroy it with the sword I had been given.
If I could do that, I realized, we would still need to hold off Alküzor and Draco until the hole was closed off, before leaving ourselves. It seemed like a lot of work, and a high-risk challenge, but it was the only way I could see to make things right.
We can do it. I know we can.
“Call your power,” I instructed Raiya. “We’re going to launch all we have here at Draco’s sword.”
“That’ll close the barrier,” Raiya said.
“Watch out,” I called, as a stream of fire and energy flew all around us. I knew at once, from the different feel and look of it, Alküzor was attacking.
But Alküzor’s power moved all around us, never touching us. I was about to make fun of him for having such a lousy aim when I realized Raiya and I were glowing with a protective shield.
Was it the joint power we shared, or had Adonaias given us one last gift of protection before we went into the oven of the earth?
Raiya shuddered beside me. “I don’t think your idea is going to work.”
“I know it’s risky. We’ll have to make a run for it,” I said. “Although that’s not the right verb for it.”
“I’m sure Mrs. Night would commend you for realizing that,” Raiya called back sarcastically. “What if we don’t make it?”
“We can!” I argued.
“Since when are you such an optimist?”
“Well,” I said, giving up, “we have to try.”
Raiya sighed. “Alright. Just do it!”
At her words, I felt our power combine, coming together, mixing with our blood, running through our hearts and our hands. I felt as though we had created our own supernova of sorts, a binary star pairing, as we poured out our power to light up the darkness of the crushing void.
When I felt it had built up enough, I gazed downward.
I had a clear shot of Draco’s sword.
Nothing was stopping me, and every ounce of power I possessed guided me. I tossed my sword downward, letting it slice through the scorching clouds and flames around us.
The moment my sword left my hand, Raiya and I unleashed our power together after it, as we both yelled—me in triumph, her in frustration, and all of it tied together with the most primal and fervent prayer for this to work.
By some miracle (poor choice of words at this point), my sword flew down and cut through Draco’s sword. With my power and Raiya’s following swiftly behind it, Draco’s sword smashed, crackling into a million and a half tiny little pieces. The earth began to return, pushing back against the remaining intrusion. I could see my sword, cast into the dirt and dust of the weary world. Its power faded, and the sword darkened.
I knew, instantly, that its job was done.
Surrounding us, our power continued to spread out, shining a bright light of hope, like a star trapped inside the world finally breaking free. I almost had to wonder if the Star of Hope, whom I’d met a couple of Christmases ago, would come down with her fairylike Star babies and dance around it.
Alküzor didn’t like it; he forced himself against us, trying to drown out the light with his own fire.
Raiya cried out in pain, as a tongue of fire snaked out and cut her arm. Her blood ran out, scorching Alküzor and making him fluster more of his darkened fire.
I felt her weaken next to me. “Are you alright?” I asked.
Her energy was low, and I saw her face run pale. Her emotions flickered out to me—there were traces of desperation, weariness, a resigned quality. But there was also an angry determination, and while I was glad she was still fighting, I felt fear tug at me.
“I’m fine,” she insisted, showing nothing in her expression or tone that would’ve made me look twice.
She’ll die if she keeps fighting.
I had to do something.
With my free hand, I reached over and drew her close to me. I kissed her, hoping fervently that it wouldn’t be our last, even as I feared it would be.
Dante’s words came back to me. To release the Blood Flame, I had to die.
Or at least, I had to pull my Soulfire out of my body. Which was more or less the scientific equivalent of dead, right?
“What are you doing?” Raiya asked. Fear was starting to crack through her mask.
“Hold your power as much as you can,” I instructed her.
Using my free hand, I pressed into the mark on my wrist, hoping my power wouldn’t harm her.
*☼*
It wasn’t the most graceful of motions, as I reached inside of my heart and tried to pull it out of me.
I saw my heart, the pure-white clouds of the confusion around me and my identity, and the bridge between my regular self and my supernatural self.
Since the last time I’d seen it, and the one time I tried to dismantle it, the connections between the two had been rectified and reinforced—two halves of my life that had been splintered and shattered, but like a part of my body, they were healing up the fissures, this time with more intention and appreciation.
Awe struck me all over again at the sight. Different memories, as they hung in crystal balls like the one Aleia had carried with her throughout her time on Earth.
I was tempted to take a closer look at some of them, but I shook my head. “Later, later,” I promised myself.
At the center of my heart, I saw it—my Soulfire.
I came up to it, and held out my hands to rec
eive it.
When I first saw them, I thought all of them were like tiny balls of fire and light. Looking at it now, I realized I was both right and wrong. It was a glowing force, a mishmash of separate things bound together—the integration of emotion and intellect, reality and possibility, reason and intuition, will and wish, all into a form that did not diminish nor enhance their individual power when they came together, even as it increased its value.
It really is amazing to think everyone has one of these! And they are all different, too.
Everyone had a Soulfire. Mine was further protected by my Starlight defender identity, the Starfire and the Starsoul, which wrapped around my essence like a ghost and allowed me to freely communicate with the Celestial Kingdom (assuming I would ever figure that one out).
Gazing at it, I saw the fire within the fire; some part of it was not my own, but another’s, and that held everything together in perfect harmony.
I held onto the Soulfire. For a quick second, I saw a reflection of my former self staring out at me. “Time to be brave, Almeisan,” I told myself. “But you can do it. It’s for Raiya.”
The reflection smiled back at me, a cynical smile on his face where I would’ve thought a happy one would reside. I frowned back at him, or me, I guess, as I called my self out of my self, back to the battlefield.
Later on, I would recall my other self’s expression and wonder if he was trying to remind me that all power had its price.
*☼*
Instantly, I was back in the middle of the battle. But my Soulfire was out, and its light was shining in full force.
“You can’t do this,” Raiya warned me. “I won’t let you die.”
“That was the plan,” I told her, feeling strangely stretched with my power before me. I’d had this feeling before, once, when Elektra managed to pull my Soulfire from my body. My vision slipped all the way around me, and I could see things in more dimensions. It was hard to describe the sensation, especially in a way that didn’t sound like I was on drugs.
Her power to me increased as she no doubt sensed my discomfort.
“I know you’re in pain,” I said, “but we only need a few moments of power to keep Alküzor and Draco in this dimension.”
“Just tell me what you need,” she ordered. “I can handle it.”
I didn’t want to. I knew she was tired from our battles, and I was rapidly tiring too. But we had to do it. It was the only way to stop.
“Supernova time,” I told her.
We exchanged careful glances, as I took hold of both of her hands. “After that, it’ll be alright.”
“Just like last time, right?” She gave me a small smile.
I grinned back. “Exactly.”
And with that, the light burst out all around us. I closed my eyes against the rush, and for the moment, I felt the peace of protection, and then the forefront of the battle pushed against us.
I heard Raiya shouting, and I heard my own shout, as we came together.
My memory flashed against my mind, and I saw this same thing as before—Raiya on the other side of Time’s power, her own supernova raging against an impossible barrier, and breaking free when I crashed into her.
Opening my eyes, I could see it all; I saw, for the briefest second, into the life of the eternal.
I barely fought off the darkness as it came for me, taking the last of my energy reserves. I pushed through for Raiya, keeping my hands in hers.
“Look,” Raiya said, her voice as weary as I felt. “It’s working.”
The resulting light was too much for Alküzor. I caught a glimpse of the terror in his piercing green eyes, as he narrowed them and then turned and fled farther into the world’s burning heart. For such a large and imposing figure, made of flaming fire, he sure darted away from the light quickly. Some of the opaque clouding went away with him, and I could finally breathe relatively normal once more.
“Awesome,” Raiya whispered beside me, watching as the last of the light filtered back into our world as my Soulfire sank back into the chamber of my heart.
I felt like cheering. I didn’t die! The plan worked! It really worked!
I had to wonder if Raiya didn’t feel some of my joy and my excitement (and if I was going to get a tirade from her, since I tried something that almost killed me and tried to hide it from her). “We need to go.”
I nodded. “We’re not out of this yet.”
“Right.”
“Elysian,” I called. “Time to go!”
Draco’s head popped out of the bed of flames. His teeth snapped at my wingdings, and I cringed in pain.
“Stop it!” Raiya yelled, pulling out her bow. She wasn’t able to let go of me to load it, so she used the edge of it to strike him across the jaw.
He reared back in pain, and then retaliated. Raiya brought up her bow to deflect it.
“Elysian!” I called. “Where are you?”
There was nothing.
“Elysian!” I called even louder, all while trying to dodge Draco’s frequent snapping.
“I’m here,” he said, “holding onto Draco’s tail.”
“We’ve got to go.”
“Hey,” he said. “I want to say I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” I asked. “Let’s go.”
“No. Not until you forgive me. For all the judging, and all the attitude, and all that.”
“What are you talking about?” I glared at him, while Raiya managed to dodge another attack. Her bow shot out, catching Draco between the eyes.
“Do you forgive me?” Each word out of Elysian’s mouth had a grating undertone, one that weirded me out. Normally, I think I would have been angered by it, but I was just desperate to leave. Draco’s power on the earth was gone, and our only way out was closing fast.
“Of course I forgive you,” I told him. “You’re my friend.”
“Really? Do you really mean it?”
“Yes!” I shook my head. “Now, come on. We’ve got to go!”
“No,” Elysian told me. “You’ve got to go. I’ve got to protect you.”
“What are you—”
It was only when I heard a different kind of snapping that I went still.
My gaze swiveled to Raiya’s as her bow shattered by Draco’s biting power. Her mouth dropped open in pained surprise, and her eyes glazed over in disbelief.
The broken pieces of her bow sparkled, before the river of fire around us swept them up, flushing them further down into the heart of fiery darkness. I felt the last of her supernatural power break inside of her.
“Raiya!”
I was surprised that I wasn’t the only one who called out her name.
I narrowed my eyes at Draco. I only stopped my attack because, for the smallest, most minute second of time, I’d heard him: Grandpa Odd. The old man’s eyes pierced through the redness of Draco the dragon’s.
Justice will be his undoing.
The words echoed in my mind.
Before I could make sense of it, he backed away. Raiya’s tears began to slip free, and Draco allowed Elysian to grab onto him once more. I watched, unable to say anything
Immediately, I felt a pull on my own shoulder, as if my body remembered Adonaias’ commands better than my brain did at that moment.
The vortex’s power was gone, and the momentary, makeshift entrance to the realm inside the earth was closing.
I barely thought anything, as I pushed myself out of the hole and then turned to Raiya.
“Come on,” I called back to her as I pulled her up.
“Let me go,” she said.
“What? No!” I gripped her hand even harder in mine.
“My bow broke,” she said.
“And I had to rip my Soulfire out of my body,” I snapped back. “And Elysian made sure that the world is being protected from Draco by sacrificing himself! We’ve all had losses. We still have things we need to do.”
“My power is gone,” Raiya tried again. “My mission is over.”
r /> “Adonaias told us not to let go of each other,” I yelled back.
“But we finished what we had to do.”
“You’ll get a new mission, then,” I said. “I still need you.”
“But—”
“You promised!” I shouted. “You promised me you would live for me.”
She sighed. “Okay. You’re right. Pull me up.”
Really? I have to cajole her into staying alive? I groaned inwardly as I hoisted her out of the other realm. I felt bad that she lost her bow. I would feel lost, too, if I wasn’t able to use my sword to help us get out of the vortex.
The opening between the two realms closed just seconds after we cleared it.
And then it was over.
A numbness fell over me, and even Raiya’s presence beside me was hard to grasp onto as we stared at the sight before us.
The vortex had pushed a crater into the ground, much larger than the one the meteorite had. In the center of it, still stuck in the ground, was my sword.
We made it out just in time. The vortex disappeared, the skies cleared up, and Time’s power—familiar enough to notice, but subtle enough to miss—resumed.
I felt the shield of protection, the one I’d felt so surely when we were in the midst of trouble, disappear. Adonaias’ gift had been given and had been used for its intended task.
“Well done, good and faithful one.”
The words whispered out to me from nowhere, but there was no mistaking the reality of them.
☼16☼
Battle of the Heart
I grappled with the end of the battle. I was glad I had done a good job, but I was still sad at saying good-bye to Elysian.
Raiya was breathing hard on the ground next to me, as the vortex died, and my sword remained stuck in the ground, in the center of the large crater where Rosemont used to be.
The night resumed quietly; I couldn’t tell if it had begun while my sword struck Draco’s, or if it just resumed as we’d shut the wormhole into Alküzor’s realm.
I pulled Raiya over next to me. We were both heaving, laboring for breath, and covered in sweat. But neither stopped me from reaching over and peeling some of her hair away from her face, and kissing her.