There But For The Grace (8 page)

I finally paused to renew my focus, and bind my wounds. I could feel the despair of the realm gnawing at me again, but forced it back. My attempts to recall the sound of prayer shifted from Adelaide’s voice to Eisheth’s: “How long do you think the Archangels will protect her when she’s no longer useful for anything? She doesn’t have the keys. The only thing she’s good for now is torturing you.”

Shaking off the memory and the doubt that Hell tried to plant in my mind, I closed my hand around the keys instead. Some Angels with the right gifts might have been able to use them to find the gates they were linked to, but that wasn’t my strength. Still, they were a potent reminder of the task that had been given to me. It didn’t matter if I was beyond God’s sight: I was on God’s side, and that would be enough.

I gave up on meditation and started walking, keeping a tight grip on the keys in one hand, and my sword in the other. I had to give that up soon enough, needing my hands to climb. Eventually, I needed them to barely catch on to the opposite lip of a pit I tried to glide across as well, when my savaged wings didn’t want to carry me as far as I’d thought they would. I pulled myself up, only then looking down at the depths below.

After that, the obstacles, some seemingly naturally formed out of the hostile terrain and some likely crafted intentionally from the dark stone, became more numerous. The ground would give way with ill-placed steps, and a few times, I nearly fell through. Cave mouths offered only narrow passages between stalactites and stalagmites, and those stones were jagged, tangling in my clothing, tearing bandages open, and even cutting shallowly into my flesh as I squeezed between a couple of them.

In other caves, loose rocks and the occasional stalactite fell from the ceiling at my intrusion. My wings took the brunt of the former in places, while I evaded the second, if barely in a couple of cases.

Vents in the floor caused rooms to fill with toxic smoke that stung my eyes and burned at open wounds. In the first two such chambers, the smoke was bad enough. In the third and most beyond, the smoke also served to hide other obstacles.

The smoke finally gave way to steam vents, just as irritating to open injuries, and my eyes, and just as capable of hiding other hazards. Worse, the floor was slick with moisture, and the walls and ceiling dripped with caustic liquid.

My only comfort, as I forced myself to slow down, despite the maddening sting of the acidic droplets against my injuries, was that the terrain would be just as hard on anyone pursuing me. Some of the natives were likely more resistant to the local terrain, or had magics that helped them tolerate the hostile territory, but I wouldn’t want to be anyone responsible for trying to drive a pack, or a horde of Demons, through here in pursuit.

Moving through the caustic fog, I nearly missed it. My foot slid, almost going out from under me. I crouched, trying to get a better sense of it. Unlike the thick liquid pooling on the walls as the steam condensed, this water was cold, to the point it still had ice crystals within it, slowly melting off amidst the heat of the cavern. Very slowly, in fact. Even at my touch, the ice resisted melting off. I kept moving, careful of the floor, and needing to get out of the almost blinding fog of the steam-clouds.

The next open area was much larger, with a few steam vents, but open enough that the steam formed only a slight fog. Moving through the room, even hugging the wall to avoid notice as much as I could, I was pelted with more of the ice water, occasionally raining from above. I noted more small rivulets of it on the floor, dropping down and running to the nearest crack in the stone, each trail sparkling slightly with remnants of the ice it had been.

I finally knew where I was. On one hand, any kind of frame of reference offered a hint of hope. On the other, I now had some idea how truly far I was from the gates, even if I could find a way further up. I fought, climbed, and stumbled my way through the obstacles, looking for any sign of a way up. Each time I thought I saw a possible new tunnel, cave, or slope up, it would either dead-end, or drop right back down.

I almost missed seeing the next cave entrance, some distance up the wall, through thick steam. The way up was slick both with the acidic steam-condensation, and in other places with the tenacious ice, left behind as colder water trickled down the wall. Finally, after two attempts, and two falls, I successfully made my way up a precarious climb to the cave. By the time I pulled myself into the yawning entrance, my hands were slick with it, and my wounds were burning worse than ever.

This was a passage up from the pits into the circles of Hell, out of the homes of most of the Demons, the packs, and many of the denizens, and into the punishing grounds for mortal souls guilty of particular sins. There was only one place above the supernaturally cold water could have come from, the lake most often compared to Cocytus from Grecian myth and Dante’s accounts—one part of the circle holding those who had been condemned for sins of treachery: the Ninth Circle.

Focused on that, I tried to make my way between a particularly jagged set of stalagmites, which seemed especially determined to snag clothing—or my flesh—and trap me in place. As that thought settled in my mind, I turned my head—just in time, it turned out, to see movement. I pushed backwards, tearing myself away from the sharp stone, back the way I came. Kasdaye’s blade stabbed deep into my side, instead of plunging through my back. I tore free from his weapon, elbowing him in the face and staggering backwards the way I’d come. He cursed aloud and thrust his sword at me, trying to follow up before I got out of reach. I blocked his attack aside with my arm, going for my own sword. I drew as quickly as I could and lashed at him, but he vanished from where he’d been standing.

I turned, seeing movement just in time to block his next attack. He deflected my counterattack, trading a couple of exchanges. He quickly realized that, even in my weakened condition, I was better with a sword than he was—which, given my condition, just about made us even. He disappeared again.

I fell for his feint, and got kicked in the knee for my trouble. I might be the better swordsman, but he wasn’t above fighting dirty. I fell to one knee, getting my blade up to block his downward swing, but still got kicked in the chest. I landed several feet away, near the mouth of the cave. He spread his wings and launched himself towards where I fell, but I avoided him by immediately rolling towards him as soon as I hit the ground. His blade dug into the stone where I’d been lying, and it took him a moment to pull it free. By the time he did, I was back to my feet.

I swung at him hard, and though he blocked it, the impact pushed him back. I followed up with another forceful blow, this time pushing him to the very edge of the cave, nearly knocking him over the edge. I shoved forward, only to meet open air as he vanished again. I barely managed to catch my balance for a moment, spreading my wings to help, before twisting about. I caught Kasdaye by the wrist as he swung his sword at me, but couldn’t do anything about his pushing forward, driving me off the edge. I kept hold of his sword arm, but since I couldn’t fly, and he could, there was nothing I could do as he did not simply let me fall, but drove me downward into the floor. The stone cracked under the impact, and my vision swam. I lost my grip on my own sword, but did manage to hold on to his wrist. I did my best to defend myself, but he got in several punches from his off hand. I landed a couple punches of my own, while he kept trying to pull his hand free.

We struggled like that for a few minutes, before he finally managed to escape my grip. He brought his blade up, but before he could get in a good swing, I caught him across the face with a hard right cross, then shoved him off of me. He disappeared again before he hit the floor. I dove for my sword, but he appeared, blocking my path. I rolled out of the way as he stabbed down, then back the other way, avoiding another thrust. I kicked his feet out from under him before he could stab a third time and dragged myself out of reach.

By the time I’d reached the wall, using it to drag myself back to my feet, he was coming at me again. This time I had my back to the wall, so he couldn’t pull his backstab act, but he was still quick and well-trained, even if his training leaned more towards that of an assassin than a warrior. I blocked the worst of the blow with a wing, but suffered for it. His blade cut to the bone and left a wound severe enough I doubted I’d be doing any more gliding for a while. Before he could follow up, I battered him with the other wing, then followed with a fist, then another, while he was staggered. Thinking I had him off-balance, I rushed for my sword once more, only to have him teleport again, appearing between me and the blade, sweeping low. I evaded the worst of it, but still suffered a deep cut across my thigh, along with ending up off-balance again. He followed up with an upward slash as he rose. I ducked back out of the way, but it was still in the wrong direction, as he forced me back to the wall.

With nowhere else to retreat, I batted aside one thrust, taking a shallow cut to the arm, and caught him with a wing buffet before he could strike again. My attempt to get away from the wall failed, but I was able to step away from his swing. Frustrated, he tried for a more forceful blow on the next attack. I side-stepped it, barely, and his blade stuck in the stone. Before he could pull it free, I’d shifted alongside him. I managed to grab the hair at the back of his head, and slammed him forward. The stone wall partly gave way under the force of my attack and impact with his forehead. That stunned him enough that I was able to do it twice more before he got his wits about him enough to teleport away.

He reappeared, looking dizzy, face bloodied, on the other side of the chamber. I ran towards my sword. He cleared his head, then teleported again, appearing between me and the weapon, readying his attack. He realized too late that this time, the weapon hadn’t been my target. As soon as Kasdaye materialized, I dove, burying my shoulder in his gut and tackling him backwards. I followed it up with quick punches, then rolled away, before diving for the sword.

I grabbed it and kept rolling, with the sound of metal-on-stone ringing just behind me as he struck just an instant too late. By the time I looked, though, he was gone.

I kept moving, noting movement just in time to dodge, as he tried to keep me off my feet. I parried a blow, after managing to get to my knees, and shoved him backwards. He came right back at me, raining down slash after slash. I blocked them desperately, forced to fight strictly defensively. He finally made enough of a mistake—a swing I could parry aside instead of just stopping—that I was able to follow it up with a quick punch to the stomach, using my sword hilt like brass knuckles. He staggered back long enough for me to get to my feet.

I was unsteady and a bloody mess, but standing and facing off with him nonetheless.

“I’ll kill you,” he snarled, meeting my eyes.

“If you can’t handle me as I am, you won’t last ten minutes in a real fight with Gabriel.”

He came at me hard and fast. I knocked his powerful swing aside, but he was too quick, getting his guard up before I could respond. We traded several more back and forth exchanges, each managing to deflect or dodge every swing. Bit by bit, I managed to force him backwards this time. As he neared the wall, I raised my sword, as if I were about to hammer downward and attempt to knock his sword out of the way, or power through his defense. Before I could strike, he disappeared.

In doing so, he finally played into my hands. I reversed my grip on my sword, holding the blade underhand, and, without turning, stabbed backwards. I met resistance as I thrust the blade back, and heard choking and gurgling that grew into a muted shout. I twisted the hilt in my hand, turning the sword, and finally looked back. I’d caught him perfectly in the gut before he could manage another try at stabbing me in the back. His sword was still raised, but he dropped it when I turned the blade back the other way.

I readjusted my grip on the hilt, and drove him back to the wall, pinning him there, and, judging by the fact he stayed pinned, I guessed being held in place like this also disrupted his gift for teleporting. My other hand caught his throat, cutting off the next attempt to scream. Tightening my grip, I started pulling the blade upward through his gut, eventually reaching his ribcage. I could see him mouthing “Mercy!” with blood bubbling up from his mouth each time he did.

“Why? Why should I show mercy?” I asked, but did lighten my grip on his throat, and stopped the sword before reaching his ribcage.

“I’ll tell you...” he started, struggling for words, even though he was barely above a whisper.

“Tell me what?”

“What’s waiting for you.” he finally managed.

“Who?”

“Gad... Gadreel.”

“Of course. With Samyaza and company?”

“No, no. Just Gadreel, and some Demons. Allied fallen.”

“Why are the rest of you not there? Samyaza, and Penemue and all?”

“Penemue saw... you’re right. Lucifer hopes you’ll... you’ll kill Samyaza, and others. No challenges, no one to... to get in the way of his takeover. Wants us to weaken you, before... before he risks his forces.”

“And the forces below?”

“Some just hunting. Some of ours. Gadreel is... is defying Samyaza. Doesn’t want... want to let anyone else kill you. Please. Mercy, please. Hurts.”

“Swear to me your hunt is over. You’ll stop following me, stop fighting. Give me your oath... and you know promises made in Hell. The realm will enforce it.”

“I... I swear. Take the sword out. I’ll... I’ll do you no injury. I won’t hunt you. Just need to go rest.”

I drew the sword out, and let him collapse to his knees. “Then rest, recover, and stay out of my way. The next time you’re in my path, I’ll take your head.”

He nodded, hands going to his stomach, as he fought not to fall over.

I headed back for the wall and climbed. It seemed much more difficult than before, but I finally reached the cave. I did my best to look around better this time, before finally making another attempt at forcing myself between the sharp growths from the floor and ceiling of the cavern. I ascended, bit by bit, sometimes walking, finally getting another chance to climb. At long last, instead of just more cave, I pulled myself up into the open.