Page 20 of The River of Fire
They’re halfway down the aisle when I decide that their impertinence should not go unpunished.
I wave a hand and the mosaic they’re walking on dissolves, square by square. A gratifying canon of surprised yelps soothes the inexplicable fire burning inside me as they fall into nothing, landing in the dungeons so conveniently placed under my throne room.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. She will get herself killed, and I have yet to have my fill.
Chapter 15 – Lana
“The courtyard is suspiciously empty,” I tell Akira.
We’re perched like buzzards atop a cliff overlooking Asmodeus’ fortress. Corson was right when he called it a ziggurat; it looks like something the Mayans built. Other than the fact that it’s made of what looks like pure onyx.
Akira just grunts, still observing our destination, looking for movement.
“I expected imps dancing around fire pits, worshiping their demonic overlords.”
This time he says nothing at all. As a successful banker from a wealthy Japanese family, he was probably used to speaking only when necessary, even before he came under Corson’s tutelage.
“Have you ever been so close to an archdemon’sstronghold?” I try again.
This time I get a reaction. “You talk too much.”
I grin. “I know. You’re blessed to be in my presence.” His slightly angled eyes narrow further and I swear he’s holding back a smile. I’ll get there eventually. If we don’t die screaming first.
It took us over a day of trekking through Hell, crossing from one domain to another, from lands covered in charcoal and ash, to barren deserts and through dead forests of gnarled trees. We didn’t encounter a single denizen before we got to our destination. We must have gotten diplomatic immunity. I snort at my own internal joke. Akira ignores me.
“I sense a lot of demons inside, but I need to get closer to be able to separate what I’m feeling into numbers and hierarchies.” I get to the task at hand, not willing to spend many more nights out in the open. While the majority of Hell isn’t completely inhospitable – save the Burning Pits, from what we’re told – the presence of soul manifestations and hungry demons make it impossible to rest without one of us keeping watch. It doesn’t make for restful nights.
Akira nods and points his chin to the back of the structure. “That side is closest to cover. We should descend there.”
“Agreed.”
We carefully move around the structure, still staying out of line of sight, stopping to check for movement intermittently. Once we get to the closest approach, we use the skinny nascent pine trees as handholds, and their roots as steps. Halfway down, we spot one of the tunnel openings Corson described.
I sigh. “We’re going to have to climb.” Getting in unnoticed is just the first step in a sequence of doozies.
Once we’re at the building, I crouch and give Akira a foothold up the first block. The shorter man then reaches down to pull me up. We carefully repeat the process, not speaking, until we get to the opening and I gulp. It’s narrow and I can’t see a light at the end. Claustrophobia tightens my ribcage.
Akira grabs my hand in solidarity and nods for me to go first. Once I get a feeling whether Asmodeus is here or not, we canreturn to Abaddon. It’s possible we’re going to have to crawl backward.
Fuck. Here goes nothing.
I, surprisingly, get used to the rhythm of my movements after a while, and avoid thinking about being trapped in the narrow darkness. I still can’t get a feeling for our quarry, though.
I don’t know how much time passes in silence before we hear it: screams, laughter, shouting. Pretty much what one would expect from ungoverned demonic minions. We’ve reached a balcony and I peek out over the railing, Akira joining me.
The scene before us is utter chaos. Demons are tearing each other apart. There are imps and raptors, like the one we faced near that graveyard years ago. The odd incubus is standing out – they’re usually more lovers than fighters. A demon with fists wreathed in flames grabs hold of a hellhound and bites its head off, ichor spraying all over his face and the surrounding imps that are vying for a taste. A muscular demon, practically a behemoth, suddenly lunges towards one of the imps and rips it in half, throwing both pieces of dead demon away from him – one of them right in our direction. I quickly duck closer to the ground. The imp’s lower half splatters against the wall behind me with a grotesque sound and I’m overwhelmed by an acidic smell.
I swallow down my nausea and close my eyes, trying to focus on our objective and not the overpowering sounds and smells. The more powerful demons are farther below us. I catch Akira’s gaze and point down. His lips tighten but he nods.
We don’t know the layout of the giant building. If the archdemon’s contemporaries knew it, they did not share it with us. We crabwalk the perimeter of the balcony that’s encircling the chaos below until we find another tunnel with a downward inclination. I eye the depthless dark and wince, imagining myself sliding down on my ass, straight into a behemoth’s waiting maw.
No way but forward, I guess. I dangle my legs into the hole and, with a final smile of bravado at Akira, push off. A dampwind stirs the hair that escaped my braid as I keep sliding, the tunnel feeling slick as if covered by algae. God, I hope it’s algae.
With a splash, I hit the water and quickly move to avoid being crushed by Akira when he lands. Taking stock of my surroundings, I realize that what I landed in can be more adequately described as sewage. I gag and almost press my hand against my mouth, before noticing it’s covered in green slime.
Shit, I really am going to hurl. I feel the tell-tale tingling sensations, the saliva gathering in my mouth. Just before I upchuck, Akira lands behind me with his own splash. A splash that sends a wave of sewage over me. Suddenly I’m so glad my mouth was closed that I momentarily forget my nausea.
Seeing as we haven’t been overrun by demons, I figure we’re alone, and scramble toward the nearest ledge. It’s not easy hoisting myself onto dry land while being covered in goo. While I slip and slide like a demented slug, Akira snickers and pulls himself out effortlessly and elegantly. Fucker.
