The beast yelped in surprise and jumped back. I yanked the mace back, taking a chunk of the shunka warakin's fur and skin with it. Behind me, I heard the shunka warakin that Valeska was fighting let out a similar pained cackling yelp.
The two in front of me looked at each other, with the non-injured one nipping at the other, and they both apparently decided we weren't worth the fight. There was probably more than enough garbage for them to scavenge anyway, so they turned tail and ran off.
When I turned back around, I saw the first shunka warakin hobbling off, leaving a trail of blood from its wounded leg. There were a few tufts of fur and feathers on the ground from the scuffle. Valeska let out a relieved sigh and pushed her wild hair back from her face, and that's when I noticed the scratch on her arm.
"Are you okay?" Oona asked, already digging into her pack for first aid.
"What?" Valeska glanced down at her arm as if she hadn't even noticed it. "Oh, I'm fine. I just need something to mask the scent of blood. That won't do us any favors inside the Gates."
"I have just the thing!" Oona sounded excited as she pulled out a small vial. She wiped the wound with gauze, then spread a thick amber salve over it.
While she patched up Valeska, I cleaned my mace and put it back in my bag. The bag's clips had broken, so I rigged them shut with a bit of Kevlar cord I'd brought with me. As I did, I thought back to what Oona had said about how the shunka warakins weren't supposed to be here.
"I thought the area around the Gates is usually deserted," Valeska said, echoing my thoughts. "The spell on the walls usually keeps everything at bay."
"Everything ignored us when we were here a few days ago," Oona agreed.
I glanced up at the sky, remembering the olitau. It had passed right over the wall, and I hadn't thought anything of it at the time. Birds were commonly passing over us. But the olitau wasn't a bird--it was a demonic bat. Shouldn't it belong on the other side? Or at least be unable to pass easily through the brujeria that held beings inside the Gates and kept them shut?
"Do you think something is up?" Oona asked me, and her dark eyes were filled with worry. "Like the walls are weakening?"
"I think ... we should be happy that the shunka warakins gave up so easily," I said finally, and I straightened up and put my bag back on. "And we should hurry and get inside the Gates."
We didn't have time to discuss the implications of a weakening wall or worrying that we might already be too late.
THIRTEEN
We entered the Gates with little fanfare, going under the arch with ease. I felt the same pins and needles I'd had last time--the odd tingling from the mystical protection created by the Vanir gods, reinforcing the walls for centuries--but this time I didn't comment on it. I just kept moving.
I followed the path from memory, walking along the winding corridor. The high walls were covered in dark red clay, and already they seemed to be blocking out the sun. It had been bright afternoon a few moments ago, but now the sky looked as if the sun was beginning to set.
Finally, the pathway widened as it opened into the Merchants of Death. It was a large open-court bazaar, full of small shops manned by mostly frightening-appearing demons, and I could smell it long before we reached it. Putrid and sulfuric odors mixed with the smell of fresh meat and the metallic scent of blood, thanks to the horrific and taboo goods they sold here.
Bright red entrails, freshly cut Cambion horns, and jars of pickled eyeballs were the types of wares on display. From what I could tell, many of the customers appeared to be humans, coming from places far and wide to buy black market items to help them with every problem known to man.
"Where do we go from here?" I asked Valeska, since she was the one who had promised a backdoor entrance to Kurnugia.
"This way." She headed toward the right, staying as close to the edge of the courtyard as she could.
As we walked, she had to duck out of the way of a serpent-like demon trying to sell her the talons of a griffin, promising they would help her become more fertile.
"I'm not really in the market for a baby," she replied dismissively.
"If you need a baby right now and don't care about the condition, Lamia can set you up," the demon assured her, and motioned to a small stand across the way.
A rather ordinary human-looking woman was standing in front of it, holding up necklaces covered in dozens of tiny little toes. I didn't want to think about where she might have gotten them, so I quickened my pace and hurried after Valeska.
Valeska led us back behind the stalls, underneath a covered alleyway that ran along the adobe walls. The narrow walkway was covered in blood, leaving it a slick, muddy mess that squished underneath my boots.
This was where the butchering took place, with several hulking demons hacking away at the mutilated corpses. I tried not to think about this or even really look at it, but it was hard to ignore. Right beside us, a large slug-like demon was hacking off the wings of a small Pegasus corpse.
He looked at us, with snot dripping from the two holes that protruded beneath his beady eyes, and wiped at his face with the back of his hand--smearing fresh Pegasus blood into the snot.
"You're not supposed to be back here," he barked at us in a thick voice.
"We're taking a shortcut," I told him, and I grabbed Oona's hand to pull her along. I didn't want to risk getting into it with a bunch of demons armed with hatchets.
Fortunately, he was too lazy to chase after us, instead muttering about how much he hated mortals. Valeska continued on ahead, with her head high, her shoulders back, and her wings spread slightly to accentuate her supernatural status, and she strutted around like she belonged here, so no one hassled her.
We hurried on, following the slow stream of blood and water that trickled down the path, and doing our best to avoid getting hit with any splatter from the butchers.
Valeska rounded a sharp corner, but that's where the path ended. It was only an alcove, framed by dark crimson clay where the rusty bloodstains blended into the walls. The stream of blood and guts flowed right into the center, to the rancid geyser that gurgled with mud and red water.
"What are we doing here?" Oona asked, wrinkling her nose in disgust at the rotten stench wafting around us.
"That's Eshik Mitu." Valeska pointed to the steaming, bubbling mess. "That's how we get in."
"What?" I stepped back. I'd never considered myself the squeamish type, but the thought of crawling into that mush and mess made my stomach roll.
"No, no." Oona shook her head. "You only told us that it was hot and could scald us. You didn't say anything about it being a disgusting pit of blood and death."
"Well, it is that, too, but honestly, I thought potentially getting boiled alive was the worst part," Valeska replied.
"You thought wrong," Oona muttered as she stared at it. "And it doesn't even look like much of a geyser. It's just a festering puddle."
"It erupts every fifteen minutes, so if we wait long enough--" Valeska stopped, glancing over at Eshik Mitu as it began to rumble.
Sulphuric smoke and steam began to thicken and rise up as the puddle bubbled. Within seconds, a putrid stream of water shot out from the earth. At least, presumably it was water, but it was a dark brown color and was surprisingly chunky, with globs of mud and boiled organs splatting on the ground. All three of us stepped back, huddling under the protection of the covered alleyway as we watched the gruesome spectacle.
"We only have about fifteen minutes until the next one, maybe less," Valeska said as the eruption subsided and the surface returned to a bubbling puddle. "This is the only way I know how to get us in there. So you can put on your big girl pants and the Valhallan cloak and we can get on with it, or we can turn around and head home with our tails between our legs. Which is it?"
"We're going," I replied without hesitation.
It had never really been a question as to whether we would or not. No matter how disgusting or perilous the path was that lay ahead of us, I would do whatever
I needed to do to get down to Kurnugia and save Ash. (You must not worry about me. Forget me. Save the world.) I would do what I needed to do.
I ignored the burning in my chest, and I asked Oona, "What do we need to be safe enough to pass through that geyser?"
"But Odin said the cloak would protect us," Valeska said.
"It's not really meant for three people, and we're taking it where it was never meant to go," I said. "Oona's got a protection spell to help cover any places the cloak can't."
Oona took off her backpack and carefully set it on the driest spot she could find, then she crouched beside it. She rummaged quickly through her bag, pulling out a couple stones and a vial, and turned back to face Valeska and me.
"Hold out your hand," she commanded us, and we did as we were told. In the palm of each of our hands, she placed a cool, jagged spear of a stone with a mirrored black sheen to it. "You need to hang on to the hematite crystal as we travel through the geyser. No matter what happens, you can't let go of it."
"What happens if we do let go?" Valeska asked.
Oona shot her a look. "Just don't do it, okay?"
"Okay, jeez," she muttered and closed her hand around the crystal.
"For the next part, I need to put this on your heart." Oona held up a vial of clear liquid. It had an odd opaque quality to it, and small flecks of green leaves and glittering black and white crystals floated inside it. "So, if you could pull down your shirt a bit."
Valeska did as she was told, pulling her tank top down far enough to reveal her cleavage. When Oona uncorked the vial, I could faintly smell it over the fetid stench around us, so it must've been rather potent. It had an herbal scent, almost like fresh-cut parsley or cilantro, mixed with fresh rain, and something else. Something tangy.
"What is that?" Valeska asked.
"It's an armarria potion, so it has mugwort, obsidian flakes, water from the Bidasoa River--" Oona began, then she stopped and looked up at Valeska. "Do you know what any of that stuff is?"
"Not really," Valeska admitted with a shrug.
Oona sighed. "It doesn't really matter what's in it. It's a protection potion, and when I put it on you, I need to say an incantation, and you can't interrupt me."
Valeska nodded once. "Got it."
Oona stared up at her for a second, as if to ascertain that Valeska did in fact get it. Apparently satisfied, she dipped her finger in the potion, and then drew an X over Valeska's heart while reciting, "Ez geala, ba geala, kalte seguru, geala."
When she was done, she moved on to me and did the same thing. The potion felt icy and tingly on my chest, reminding me a bit of a mentholated ointment I'd used when I had a bad cold as a child. Not bad, exactly, but strange and a little intense.
While Oona made an X on her own chest, I pulled the Valhallan cloak out of my bag. At first I tried to be careful and keep the satiny fabric out of the filth on the ground, but then I realized it was going to have to travel through that geyser, so cleanliness was a moot point.
Odin had assured us that the cloak had strong enough properties to protect and shield us from the magic that was designed to destroy any immortal that tried to escape.
"I'm done with my part," Oona said once she'd put the vial back and put her backpack on again. She looked over at Valeska. "What's next?"
"We get under the cloak," Valeska said. "That should help us pass through the supernatural barrier between our world and Kurnugia, and hopefully protect us from the scalding water and the disgusting filth of the geyser."
"What about the key?" I asked. "When does that come into play?"
Valeska pulled the crescent-shaped Sibudu Key from around her neck. "Once we're ready, we stand over the geyser, and I set it on top. Then it opens up, and we slide through."
"And the key doesn't get lost that way?" I asked.
"No, it goes with us," she said unequivocally.
"Let's do this, then," I said.
Valeska and Oona stood on either side of me, squeezing in close, and I draped the cloak around us. I pulled it tight, so that every inch of us was covered. I had the hood draped over my head, because I was the tallest, and I wrapped an arm around Valeska and Oona.
"I'm walking over to the entrance," I told them, since they couldn't see, and the three of us carefully shuffled over to it.
The hot water sloshed up through the cloak, over our feet. It was hot, though not as blistering as I had imagined it would be. Still, it stung my bare skin exposed between my pants and boots.
"I'm dropping the key," Valeska said, and a second later I heard the splash as it hit the water.
Then we waited. Maybe five seconds, maybe ten, but it felt like an eternity during which I worried that we'd done it all wrong or we'd forgotten an important step.
Finally, the ground started to give way, as we slowly sank down into the muck. I tightened my grip around both Valeska and Oona, and for her part, Oona clung to my waist.
I pulled the hood down, covering my face, and that blotted out any light, so we were submerged completely in darkness. For a moment the only sound was that of our ragged breath and rapid beating of my heart.
The earth began to constrict around us, expanding and contracting like it was swallowing us, and I dimly wondered if this was what it felt like being eaten alive by a large snake. Accompanying the movement was the sloshing sound as the water encircled us.
As we went down, the constriction was making it hard to breathe. We were all pressed together, with Valeska's and Oona's knees and elbows digging painfully into me, and Valeska's feathers cut into my back, poking through the fabric of my shirt.
Softly, in a voice that she could barely eke out, Oona had begun repeating the earlier incantation over and over again, and I squeezed the crystal more securely in my fist.
Then suddenly it was like the floor had given out, and we dropped rapidly. There was this strange wooshing sensation, as we were sucked down into the nether realm.
FOURTEEN
I woke up in my bedroom back in New Edgewater. Blue light from the billboard across the canal spilled in through the blinds, giving the room a beautiful ethereal glow.
A strange panic made my heart pound. I didn't know where I had thought I would be, but I knew this wasn't the right place. I breathed in deeply and noticed an unfamiliar musty scent permeating my room.
The sheets felt damp beneath me, but when I looked down at them, they appeared perfectly dry. I sat up, sorting out the foggy confusion that filled my mind.
"Is everything all right?" Asher asked, and I looked over at him with a start.
At the sight of him lying shirtless in bed beside me, relief rushed over me like a tidal wave, and a surprised sob escaped my lips. It was over, and he was here with me, and he would pull me into his arms, and I would feel safe and loved in a way that no one else had ever made me feel.
His blue eyes--normally so dark, like the ocean during a storm--almost seemed to glow in the light from the billboard.
I had the most intense urge to memorize every detail, as if part of me was terrified that this might be the last time that I saw him. So I took it all in, savoring the wonderful contradiction of him. The rugged roughness of his face mixed with the soft features of his full lips and high cheekbones, his black hair disheveled and his thick eyebrows pinched with worry.
I reached out, unable to stop myself, and put my hand on his cheek. I had to feel him, to know he was real, that he was here with me. His stubble scraped deliciously against the palm of my hand, and I let my thumb linger on the small scar at the top of his lip, like a soft comma.
"I had the worst dream," I told him, barely able to speak around the lump in my throat. "I dreamt that you were gone."
His expression turned sad and apologetic, and he put his hand over mine, the one lingering on his face. His skin felt rough and cold, and ... somehow not quite right. Not how I remembered his hand feeling when he touched me.
"Oh, Malin," he said thickly. "It wasn't a dream."
"What?" I asked, my voice trembling, and then I felt it in my chest. My heart breaking all over again, and his words burning into it. "No, but you're here. You're here with me now."
"I'm not really here," Asher replied forlornly. "And you can't find me."
He started slipping away from me. The bed began to lengthen, pulling him away, and putting distance between us. I reached out, grabbing his hand, meaning to cling to him forever if I had to.
"Why can't I find you?" I asked. "Why won't you let me?"
"There are far more important things in this world than me," he said as his hand slid out of mine. "But I need you to know that no matter what happens, you will be all right, and I cherished every moment we spent together."
"No, Asher, wait!" I started crawling across the bed, scrambling through the sheets, but no matter how quickly I moved, he only got farther away from me.
And then I was falling, plummeting into the darkness and through trees with pine-needle branches stinging against my skin, until finally I hit the bottom. My head smacked painfully against a rock, and a bright white light blinded me for a moment.
Cold raindrops splashed on my face, and I could only smell the exhilarating delicious scent of pine and earth and rain. I opened my eyes, staring up at the trees towering over me.
Then someone stepped into my view, blocking the dim light, and the rain falling on my face blurred my vision, so I couldn't see who it was--only a shadow standing over me.
"Don't be afraid," he said, his voice deep and warm, and he held out his hand to me. "You need to wake up." A raindrop splashed into my eyes, so I closed them tightly. "Wake up, Mal."
Then I realized it wasn't his voice, but Oona's. And it wasn't far away, it was right above me, speaking in a panicked whisper.
"Mal, you have to wake up," Oona insisted, and I opened my eyes.
For some reason, I expected it to be dark, but I clearly saw Oona--her short black hair disheveled and damp, apprehension hardening the soft edges of her features and creasing her smooth skin. When she realized I was alive and awake, her taut expression changed to a relieved smile, although her dark eyes were still tinged with worry.
Beneath me, the ground was damp and uneven, and the air had a thick musty smell, like a root cellar or deep cavern. Despite the moisture, the air was oddly acrid, burning my lungs and throat and causing me to cough.