Matt gazed into her eyes. They seemed wild and unfocused. “I hope not,” he said. “I haven’t noticed a problem between there and here. Maybe since the little tunnel we crawled through got sealed, the rest of the passage will stay in place.”
“Oh. That’s good.” She looked at the beam, still on her chest. “Anyway, while I’m thinking clearly, I just want to make sure you know that I think you’re amazing, and . . .” She refocused on him. “And that I love you.” She drew him into a tight embrace, her arms around his neck. “Maybe I’m already on the brink of insanity right now, but I needed to let you know my feelings before I go over the edge. I really do love you.”
Matt returned the embrace and rubbed her back. She had expressed her feelings earlier. Had she already forgotten? Maybe insanity really was encroaching. Still, Darcy seemed pretty lucid. Maybe she could win the battle if the drone didn’t inject too much venom.
When they separated, Matt slid his hand into hers. “I love you, too, Darcy. I’m glad you’re at my side.”
Her eyes misted. “Thank you, Matt. That means a lot to me.”
As they gazed at each other, pangs of guilt swelled in Matt’s throat. His conscience hurled mental stones. You didn’t tell her about Abaddon’s prophecy. If you go to his lair, one of you has to die.
He slung the thoughts away. Warning her now might drive her even closer to insanity. And what good would it do? There was no turning back. “We’d better go.” Still holding Darcy’s hand, he aimed the light deeper into the tunnel and walked at a brisk pace, listening for signs of collapse. Lauren’s body seemed heavier now. The straps had loosened, making her ride lower and shift more— far less secure.
Darcy adjusted Lauren from time to time and tightened the straps. That helped, but she could do nothing to overcome the aches in his muscles and the stinging pain throbbing in cuts, scrapes, and deep bruises. His healing gift was probably working hard, but constantly getting new wounds had to be overtaxing it.
Their shoes crunched gravel. Their breaths came faster and shallower. The sounds seemed hollow and muted, no longer echoing. The tunnel went on and on, ever downward. Even if they wanted to turn back, Lauren’s weight combined with Matt’s exhaustion would make the long climb impossible. They had no choice but to press on.
While they walked, Darcy chatted about her life after Matt went to military school. She left home when she turned seventeen and took a bus to Las Vegas where she hoped to get involved with a stage show, either singing or playing piano. Although she got bit parts here and there, and made pretty good money playing piano at bars, it wasn’t enough to pay the bills. That’s when she turned to, as she put it, alternative sources of income.
As she related each tale, her tone and cadence altered from frenetic to slow and methodical and back to frenetic. The roller coaster carried her on a ride she couldn’t seem to stop.
After what felt like an hour, a light appeared in the distance, reddish and pulsing, similar to the glow in the depths of the abyss. At the end of the passage through a chest-high arch, a new chamber came into view, now about twenty paces away. Inside, an indistinct shape pulsed with red light, and its bright flashes made it impossible to focus on it for more than a second.
Something skittered across the entry from left to right, something dark, nimble, and the same height as the opening. It appeared to have more than four limbs, but its speed blurred the details.
Matt halted. “Did you see that?”
“It looked like a spider.” Darcy’s voice sounded like that of a frightened child.
“I’ll check it out. Help me get Lauren off.”
“Sure.” She held Lauren while Matt unfastened the straps and shrugged her down his back.
When they had laid Lauren carefully on the floor, Matt flicked off his flashlight, drew Darcy’s knife from its sheath at her belt, and handed it to her. “Just in case,” he said.
She held the knife in an open palm. “I’m kind of nervous about using this. I mean, the insanity thing.” Her voice had returned to normal.
Matt smiled. “I’m not worried. I think you can beat that venom.”
She slid the knife back to the sheath and nodded. “Be careful.”
“I’ll do my best.” He tiptoed to the end of the tunnel, set a hand on the right side of the arch, and leaned out in front of the opening. Inside, a curved, reflective wall surrounded a rectangular column, creating a cylindrical chamber around it. The rectangle appeared to have dozens upon dozens of tiny hexagonal openings. It looked more like a giant honeycomb than a support column.
The column pulsed with a heartbeat rhythm. With each throb, scarlet radiance shot out through the hexagons and formed a ring of energy that struck the mirrored wall and bounced back. The echoing ring collided with the column in a vibrant splash of sparks that shot upward and disappeared just in time for the next throb.
Bending low, Matt crept toward the room, but his head struck something solid, though nothing stood in sight. He extended a hand and pressed his palm against a transparent barrier, perhaps a window—perfectly clear and invisible.
He pushed his fingers under the barrier and lifted. Something that felt like a panel slid upward, but its size and shape were indiscernible. While holding the panel up with one hand, he extended his other hand underneath and felt for the opening’s barriers. The hole appeared to be rectangular, big enough to crawl through.
Matt squeezed past the opening and lowered the panel back in place. On this side, instead of a window, the panel appeared to be a mirror, slightly curved as it melded into the continuous mirror that encircled the room.
Staying in a crouch, he scanned the chamber. That multi-legged creature was nowhere on the floor or in sight on the glassy walls. The mirrors continued upward until they faded in the darkness above. The creature could be hiding in the higher reaches, lurking and watching.
He rose and walked toward the central column. When it throbbed, a new ring of red light passed through his body. The radiance tingled, raising goose bumps across his skin, but it seemed to do no harm.
When the radiance bounced off the wall and struck his back, the tingle returned, not as strong and shorter lived. He turned to the wall. Directly in front, his reflection stared back, but the curvature in the mirror created a continuous reflection that showed his body at every possible angle as it stretched around the room. The mirror also reflected other portions of the wall, which showed his body at another angle as if standing behind the first image, and another image stood behind that one, and another behind it, and on and on into infinity. It seemed that thousands of copies of Matt Bannister stood watching him and each other.
The honeycomb pulsed again. When the wave passed by, his closest reflected image vanished in all directions, though the farther reflections remained intact. When the radiance bounced back, the collision with his body erased every image but a distant one directly ahead. It stared at him as if alive and sentient. Scarlet light flew upward and dissipated, and the surrounding images returned.
Skewed reflections of himself and the honeycomb swirled. Dizziness swam through his senses. Matt shook his head hard. It wouldn’t take long for this bizarre room to drive anyone insane.
He blinked. Insane? A good reminder. He had better check on Darcy.
Keeping his focus on the ground, he hurried to the panel, lifted it, and crawled underneath. Since the spiderlike creature never made an appearance, it would probably be safe to bring Lauren and Darcy in. Maybe another panel lay hidden in the wall somewhere, an opening that would lead to a new passageway.
Still a bit dizzy, he jogged to Darcy. She crouched, combing Lauren’s hair with her fingers. “Don’t worry, Lauren,” she crooned in a lilting voice. “We’ll get you resurrected very soon. Matt loves you, so he’ll never give up.”
“Darcy?” Matt stooped next to her. “Are you all right?”
She squinted at him. “Don’t I look all right?”
“You look fi
ne. It’s just . . .” He shook his head. “Never mind. Just help me get Lauren.”
For the next two minutes, they once again hoisted Lauren onto his back and strapped her in. Matt led Darcy to the panel, opened it, and squeezed through on hands and knees. Once Darcy had entered, he closed the panel and walked slowly to the honeycomb.
He and Darcy stood together and turned toward the surrounding mirror. “My guess,” he said, “is that we might find another movable panel like the one we came through. We can split up and start looking.”
A voice came from somewhere above. “There is no need for such a wasteful activity.”
A recent splash of red light shot into the cylinder’s upper reaches and bounced all around until it blended into an amorphous wave of upwelling radiance. Clinging to the wall, a dark humanoid crawled down, headfirst as if her hands and bare feet adhered to the slick surface. With two sets of arms, she looked like a black Hindu idol. A tight bodysuit, as dark as her skin, covered her from ankles to neck to all four wrists, spoiling the imagery.
When she reached the floor, she stood upright. No taller than a preteen, she walked gracefully toward Matt and Darcy, her expression more curious than challenging. “Who are you?” she asked with a girlish voice. “Why are you here?”
Chapter 25
JADE
The honeycomb continued pulsing. Red light bathed the four-armed girl in crimson, as if washing her in a bloody fountain. Jet-black hair streamed over her shoulders and down to her knees. The bodysuit accentuated the curves of a fully mature woman, belying her preadolescent face and voice, and an oval stone embedded in her sternum radiated a soft green light.
“I’m Matt.” He nodded at Darcy. “And this is Darcy.”
“Excellent. I chose the correct language. I thought you looked like Earth Americans.” She gave a head bow. “My name is Jade. I am Guardian of what you probably call the abyss, a name that conjures nightmarish images of darkness, an eternal plunge into the unknown, and an eruption of hellish creatures from its depths.” She laughed as if amused with her own words. “Although Abaddon’s armies did indeed fly from here, that is a one-time event. The abyss is not designed to be a place of nightmares or even the slightest of fears. It is a passageway to every wondrous daydream, to every corner of every world, even to fantasies you could never imagine. It is mysterious, to be sure, but it poses no danger to anyone who is wise enough to solve its puzzles and avoid its pitfalls.”
Matt kept his stare locked on Jade. Her bright eyes and smile dressed her in a friendly aspect, but the abyss speech sounded like a propaganda oratory, as if she were a devoted worshiper of this place.
“You’re so pretty!” Darcy touched Jade’s ebony cheek. “Do you live here?”
Jade grasped Darcy’s wrist with one of her left hands. “It is best not to touch a guardian without asking permission.”
“Oh!” Darcy pulled her hand back. “I’m sorry.”
Matt narrowed his eyes. Darcy seemed to be at a low point in her roller-coaster ride. Maybe a bit of stimulus would give her a boost. “Jade, in Abaddon’s name, I ask for passage to his lair. We need to resurrect the girl I’m carrying on my back.”
“In Abaddon’s name?” Jade laughed gently. “Abaddon is a powerful ally, but he is not my superior. I will do whatsoever I choose.” She walked around to Matt’s back, reached up to Lauren’s face, and touched her forehead, her graceful movements visible in the mirrors. “She is beginning to deteriorate. You have very little time.”
“I know. That’s why I—”
“Why you are in such a hurry.” As the honeycomb continued sending pulses of radiance over Jade’s body, she seemed to float along the mirrored wall, like a warped shadow stretching and reshaping itself. “What makes you think her soul is in Abaddon’s Lair? Very few are sent there for resurrection, perhaps one in a billion, or even fewer.”
“She is Bonnie Bannister’s daughter. Does that name mean anything to you?”
“Of course. The Oracle of Fire, the purity ovulum, the one who sings the hope of all the Earth.” Jade ran a hand along Lauren’s arm. “So this must be Lauren, the girl who created a miniature abyss in the museum room.”
“Yes, she’s Lauren.” Matt grasped Darcy’s shoulder and gave her a shake. “Mom told you that story, right, Darcy? The museum room?”
Darcy blinked, as if waking up. “Yes. The museum room. I know about that. The tree-of-life story.”
Jade smiled in a pleasant way. “The tree of life created a reflection of this place—the Sanctum of the Abyss. The central column is the sanctum’s heart, the hub of every world—Earth, Hades, Second Eden, and other worlds you likely have not heard about. Lauren’s replica of this place was not the first. There is also a pool in the Bridgelands that displays some of the worlds.”
Jade laid her palm on the pulsing column. Under her touch, the red light faded to black, and darkness spread across the surface, as if the connected hexagons bled into each other. Sections of the mirror reflected the change in a shadowy crawl along the glass. “This is the heart of inter-world navigation. It monitors portals as they are created, opened, and closed, and I am able to alter transportal activity from this station.”
“So what world are we in now?” Matt asked.
“Under normal circumstances, this place is in no world at all. It exists in a neutral plane in the midst of all worlds. But because of events occurring on Earth, this junction has been transported to Earth’s plane in order to await the outcome of your people’s transgressions. If Earth is terminated, then I will—”
“Terminated?” Darcy said, her eyes dull. “You mean, like destroyed?”
“That is exactly what I mean.” Jade looked upward. “The entire universe we symbolically call Earth might be swallowed into this bottomless pit and enter a state of cosmic neutrality. In essence, it will cease to exist.”
Darcy blinked several times. “So are we at the bottom of the bottomless pit?”
Jade laughed. “That is a logical conundrum to your mind, because you are unable to perceive this place from a higher plane. If someone were to fall into the pit, he would plunge without reaching the ground upon which we stand. He would transport from world to world, always falling and never landing, an eternity of terror. In that sense, the pit is bottomless, though you and I stand at its base.”
Matt peered at the column. “So can this contraption send us to Abaddon’s Lair?”
“Not on its own. I merely adjust openings and closings. I do not have the power to open a portal myself. Someone with supernatural abilities, such as Sapphira or Acacia, is able to do it. The flames of the tree of life also possess that power. Beyond that, I know of only one other form of energy that is able to pierce the veil between portals—life energy. An inhabitant of one of the worlds must contribute his life force to the effort.”
Matt hid a swallow. Abaddon’s deadly promise stormed back to mind. “And I assume that person would die.”
“Of course. One cannot contribute his life force and also expect to keep it. That is illogical.” Jade pinched Matt’s sleeve. “If your garments do not burn easily, jumping through the open portal should be safe as long as you cover exposed skin.”
“We brought a cloak for that in the harness.” He scanned the room again. The red pulses continued to wash over his body as well as Jade’s and Darcy’s. The multiple reflections stretched out and skewed, painting warped portraits of all three as they appeared and disappeared in time with the honeycomb’s heartbeat.
Darcy walked to the wall and touched the mirror. “Am I at a carnival? This is a funhouse, right?”
“Darcy!” Matt strode to her and shook her arm. “Fight the venom! Snap out of it!”
She stared at him, her mouth partially open. “Matt,” she said in a wispy voice. “Help me. I’m swimming in a stormy sea. I need . . . I need a lifeline. The waves are . . . washing over me.”
He gave her another shake, harder this time. “D
arcy! I’m here! Don’t give up!”
She wagged her head vigorously, then squinted. “Matt. Where did the water go?”
“Don’t look at the mirror.” He led her to the column where Jade stood, all four hands reaching out.
“Allow me to hold her. I have a clarifying effect on humans.”
Matt guided Darcy into Jade’s grasp. Jade pulled her close and stroked her hair and back with two of her hands as she looked up into her eyes and whispered, “Embrace reality, child of Earth. Close your eyes and focus on my voice. Allow peace to filter into your senses and extract the chaotic noise and fractured thoughts that assault your mind. Only in this way can you hold to your sanity.”
Edging closer, Matt focused on Jade’s voice. Something magical infused her tone—peaceful, confident, ageless. His own confusing thoughts leaked away, allowing room for clarity . . . and a potential plan. “How does a person donate life energy to open a portal?”
Jade continued petting Darcy and hummed between phrases. “First, we locate the world you wish to visit. We will be able to see into that world to verify its identity. Then I determine the hole in the sanctum’s heart to energize. I activate that hole’s intake ability so that anyone who touches it will be drained of his or her life energy. Another option is to draw life energy through a portal window from a willing donor, though physical passage through that portal will be impossible until after the donation is complete. The sanctum’s heart then uses the energy to open the portal. The energy contributor dies almost immediately.”
“What happens to that person’s body and soul?”
“The body disintegrates, and the soul goes to God, unless, of course, the contributor is one of the few who is sent to Abaddon’s Lair for resurrection. Without the body, however, the only possible resurrection would be in Second Eden’s birthing garden.”
“Besides opening a portal, is there any way we can get to the surface?”
“Under normal circumstances, one could retrace his steps to find his way back to his starting point, but not in this case. Abaddon is one of the wisest creatures in any world, and he predicted that your need might arise, so he allowed your passage. Now that your journey has commenced, the path you took has been sealed. You may not retreat.”