Destined (Desolation #3) (8 page)

“I suspect she’s shackled to the bottom of the rocks upon which Ygdrasyll was built, and that she hangs beneath all the worlds, her body suspended over space.”

“Oh my gosh,” Miri said, covering her mouth with a trembling hand. I touched her knee, hoping to share some comfort with her, though my own stomach had flipped over and I’d become less confident about avoiding throwing up. 

I took a deep breath to steady my nerves. “Okay. So Horonius knows where this is, right? So why can’t you go get her?” Notice how I said
you
. I wasn’t stupid. Hell was the last place I wanted to go.

“That is why we’re here, I’m afraid,” li’Morl said. I so did not like where this was going. “Where Desolation is, I cannot go. I am a being of Light, a creature of Alfheim—my kind cannot exist where there is no Light. I’m sure you understand.”

I didn’t understand the whole Light creatures and bottom-of-the-worlds bit, but I got the gist of it. I’d be going to Hell. Literally. I always thought I’d go there—before Miri, anyway. Before her, I thought Hell was my inevitable destination. But since Miri, I pretty much figured I’d do everything to avoid going there. 

“Heimdall, the god of the Bifrost, can get you into Helheimer, but not to the bottom of Ygdrasyll, not to the roots of the world tree. Horonius could go alone, but he cannot break the shackles around Desolation’s wrists. Loki created them to resist the Hounds’ abilities—else they would have released Helena when he imprisoned her there. That is why the goddess remained trapped until Desolation released her.”

I suddenly felt like an insect trapped beneath glass. My legs and wings pinned aside, my guts exposed. I tore my eyes away from li’Morl to look at Miri. Would she want me to go? And maybe never come back?

But she kept her eyes on her hands in her lap, giving up none of her secret thoughts to me. 

“Heimdall will get you in as close as he can. Horonius will be with you every step of the way. I’m sure he knows every nook and cranny of Helheimer, including how to cross the river without the soul eaters getting you.”

“Soul eaters? What?” My hands felt as if I’d stuck them in a bucket of ice water.

“Do not fear. He will get you to Desolation. All you have to do is release her, and get her out. As I said, Horonius will be with you.”

I glanced at Horonius. His stony expression did not comfort me. “But what if she . . . what if she’s, you know, the bad Desi? What if she doesn’t want to escape? What if she kills me the second I release her?”

“She’s not bad,” Miri said at the exact moment li’Morl said,

“She is not
bad
.” 

“I felt it in my dream, Jamie,” Miri said, using her nickname for me that I claimed to hate but secretly loved. “She was full of remorse. Full of regret. That’s partly why the dream was so awful—because I felt so, so sad.”

“But what about those rock-creatures you saw? If Desi’s scared of them, I sure as heck don’t want to run into any.”

“They are the genii,” li’Morl said. Totally unhelpful. “You probably saw them at the battle in Desert Peak—Odin briefed me on your . . . adventures. The genii are the small dwarf-looking rock creatures you fought. Do you remember?” 

My face blanched. “Yeah, I remember.” It was possible to kill them—sort of. Mostly it was like knocking their rocks apart. So weird.

“But the genii will cause you no harm,” li’Morl said. “At least, I believe they will not. As I understand it, they have become as un-enamored of their queen as Horonius.”

I stared at him. “Well, as you understand it. Great. Let’s go then!” I jumped up and grabbed my coat, standing at the door like,
Well, let’s get a move on.
I knew I was being childish. I could see myself reflected in each of their faces—even Horonius looked disappointed.

Miri stood and came up to me. She took my jacket from my hand and tossed it at the coat rack near the door. It missed and fell to the floor. 

“Look,” she said, wrapping her warm fingers around mine. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I copied her. “I know you’re scared. I’m scared too. The last thing I want is to lose you.” She stepped closer, our toes touching. “You do know that, right?”

I looked at her, this girl I’d totally changed my life for, and I knew; if I didn’t rescue Desi, if I didn’t at least try, she would feel it as acutely as if I’d abandoned her. She owed her life to Desi, and I owed my life to Miri. I could see how in Miri’s heart, there couldn’t be one without the other. Saving Desi would be a way for Miri to know that I got it. That I knew what made her tick. That I knew how hard her challenges had been. 

Not that Miri needed me to prove that I loved her, but this would prove it. Seriously prove it. 

And the truth was, I loved Desi too. In my heart of hearts I knew I couldn’t know where she was, couldn’t know I had a chance to save her, and not at least try. And I’d had a run-in with Hell before. Akaros hadn’t managed to kill me then and he was the biggest bad Hell had to offer—aside from Loki himself and Desi, of course. If li’Morl said I could do this, and Miri believed it, well, maybe I could.

So I squeezed Miri’s hands and then let one of them drop as I faced the dog-dude and li’Morl, the guy I inexplicably loved and hated.

“So what’s the plan?”

Through the funhouse sound system that is Hell, I hear singing.

At first I believe it to be my imagination. There are no people here. There are no voices here.

There is no singing.

Is it me? Am I singing?

It’s a legitimate question. Maybe I’ve gone insane. Maybe I’ve lost my sanity along with my hope, my sorrow, my love. 

“He’ll reach for me, I’ll reach for him. Together we’ll make an awful din! He’ll reach for me, I’ll reach for him, he’ll think to give but I will take, I’ll take and not give back to him.” 

I hear the words; hear the music that rambles with such meaninglessness that I know. These are not
my
words. Not my tune. But I do know them.

“Come little one, I’ll be your mother, and you will never pine for another. Come little one and reach for me, I’ll let you shelter betwixt me!”

With the music, a sharp staccato punctuates my endless sameness. And then a light, bobbing through the darkness. I move my head, hiding my eyes behind my hair. And so I see, through this curtain of strands that fall endlessly before my eyes, the unlikeliest sight of all.

Ophelia bobs and sways onto the ledge, the little creature I tried so hard to make friends with, clinging to her skirts.

“Why look at that and that looks, but why?” Ophelia holds the lantern out in front of her, peering at me—as if the light would be sufficient to reveal what has been hidden so long. She bursts out laughing, and even through the muted sounds of Helheimer, her laughter is like a thousand hammers grinding against metal.

“Lookie, lookie!” She chirps to the creature at her ankle. “It’s the Dark Princess. The Princess of Darkness.” She sits down on the ledge across from me, her legs dangling over empty space. 

“Not a very cozy place you’ve got for yourself here, Princess. Could do with a little fixin’ up, I think.” She pets the head of the little genii that has crawled onto her lap. “But you’ve got lovely friends here, don’t ya? So lovely.” The little one smiles beneath her hand, showing teeth as sharp as a saw.

Ophelia looks up, peering straight into my eyes as if she can see my face behind my hair. Her lips quirk upward and she drags her tongue over her own sharp canines. Her teeth aren’t normally like that, I know. It’s a game she’s playing—with me or the genii, I don’t know. 

After a moment of staring, I decide to try the card I’ve been dealt.

“Ophelia,” I croak. “It’s so nice to see you.”

She throws her head back and laughs some more. Behind her dangling feet I see a light. A light in the darkness. Ophelia doesn’t take notice of it and for some reason I feel grateful the light is beyond her line of sight. I don’t want her to see it.

“I suppose you’ll be wantin’ me to let you out, now won’t you?”

I remain silent, not sure what the right answer is. Every fiber of my being is screaming
yes
, but what is it Ophelia wants to hear? Has she come as Father’s messenger? She is one of his cronies, after all. Or has she come for some other purpose? I can’t hope to know, unless she tells me herself.

“Ain’t got nuffin to say for yourself, Princess? Or do ya think you’re too good to be saved by the likes o’ me?” She frowns at the genii on her lap, but continues to pet it. It cuddles against her and she presses its head against her chest. I wonder why the little creature lets her touch it, when it’s always been afraid of me.

“I—” Careful. I must be careful. Ophelia is evil, but a little less sane than the rest of Father’s generals. There’s a huge discrepancy between Ophelia and, say, Emperor Xin. I have never known why father granted her such rank. “I am honored to have your company, Ophelia.”

“Ah! She’s honored, she says!” Ophelia sings to the ceiling. “She’s honored to have my comp’ny, she says.” This last to the creature in her lap. 

“Have you come to release me?”

“I didn’t even know you was here—but the Master and his whore don’t exactly keep me informed, so. Surprise!” I’ve said the wrong thing. Suggested she isn’t as special as she thinks she is. Opened up the whole nasty line of thought that could uncork her volatile temper.

She stares at the genii, petting, petting, petting.

“I only came this way ’cuz my friends live here. They’re beautiful ain’t they? My little rock babies. My rock-a-babies. That’s what I call ’em. My rock-a-babies.” She looks at me then, her face hard and dangerous. “She doesn’t love ’em, ya know. She’s forgotten all about ’em. She only cares for her fancy worlders—oh I’ve heard the whispers. They think I don’t listen, but I do. She thinks she can just take this place back.”

She pets the genii with more vigor, pressing down and down. The creature squirms beneath her grasp. 

“And the Master! Well. He thinks he has her wrapped around his little finger, he does. But I know women, and it’s her what’s got ’im wrapped around her pinky. She pulls him around by his ding-a-ling, she does. The Master thinks she’ll be his queen.

“I should be his queen!” she screams. She throws the little genii into the great chasm between us, and it falls to its death in silence. Her words echo off the walls around us and are answered by screaming rocks. 

I am shocked. Speechless. 

Sorrow for the little genii pools in my heart along with all the other sorrows I keep there. The rocks screech as they fall against one another, crawling toward Ophelia who stands as they encircle her. 

“Ahhhhh! Get back!” She screams at them. The sound is mind-numbing. Ophelia is like a detonated bomb, leaving the ground blackened and empty all around her. The genii cling to the mountain. “You will serve me!

“Only I remember you. You think she’ll come back? Think she cares anything for you? Only I care. Only I remember!”

And to my horror, the genii detach themselves from the walls and move to her feet. They pile atop one another—not to send her to her death, but to reach out for her hand. She takes them and does a curtsy as if they’re about to dance in some old ballroom. Ophelia giggles and picks up the lantern from the floor. She saunters away, hand in hand with the stacked genii. She never once looks back. She leaves without remembering me at all.

“Wait!” I try to shout. But my voice is raw, hoarse. And the rocks are following her, tumbling away and stealing any sound I’ve managed to make.

I’m alone again.

Except for the light.

The two tiny pricks of light.

They appear closer now and I don’t care if it’s my imagination or just hope or the crazy finally setting in.

I love the lights. I cling to them. They are my hope. My reason for breathing another day.

I watch the lights draw nearer. 

Nearer and nearer and nearer.

I think;
I will die when they reach me. 

I think;
They are soul eaters.

And oh, I welcome the death of my soul. The release from this body, from this existence.

“Come on,” I say to them.