Road to Hell (22 page)

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Rumbling out of town, the undead horses trotted for a few minutes before passing the barracks that Sam had told me about. A series of buildings were lined up side by side. Like the houses, they were made of black stone. It was impossible to count the number of soldiers that we saw, but it was probably a regiment of a thousand. They’d formed neat ranks and were practicing combat beneath the direction of their leader.

Their captain strutted around, inspecting them and barking orders when they failed to live up to his expectations. The soldiers’ weapons ranged from daggers to swords and axes. They were normal in size rather than gigantic like the weapons the Demon Lords carried. I guessed the captain hadn’t been invited to the mysterious meeting at the palace. Someone had to stay behind to keep the troops in line. I had a feeling the captain whose carriage we were stowing away on came from elsewhere. She’d just been passing through the village and her ride had suffered a malfunction of some kind.

Leaving the troops behind, the nags picked up their pace until they were cantering. I watched the soldiers until we moved out of range before allowing myself to relax. Sam continued to hold my hand tightly and I could sense his concentration. I wasn’t sure how long he could keep up the illusion. He shifted when he sensed my concern, but it was too dangerous for us to speak out loud.

Our journey lasted for several hours, but it was hard to judge the time with my watch out of order. Catching movement out of the corner of my eye, I turned my head to see the undead raven flying overhead. It shadowed us for a while before winging away into the distance.

Sam was slumped back against the carriage and I could feel his exhaustion. He roused himself when we began to slow down. I’d been too keyed up to even think about trying to take a nap during the lengthy journey. Our seating was too precarious for me to risk it anyway. My fear that Sam wouldn’t be able to maintain his illusion had been in vain. It seemed he could keep it up indefinitely as long as he was in contact with the wood.

We’d been travelling across hard packed ground for hours. It was a shock when the wheels began to rumble loudly. I glanced down to see we were on a cobbled street made of the same black stones that were used for all types of construction. The carriage blocked our view as we entered the city. We passed through an arched gate that was thankfully inanimate. A smaller scale black wall enclosed the city. The street was narrow and the buildings were tightly packed together within the confines.

Lesser demons bustled about on the streets. All wore sackcloth, and I imagined they were the equivalent to worker drones. Some carried large black stones on their backs, presumably to repair the walls and buildings. They moved to the side to let us pass without bothering to turn around. Carriages were probably too commonplace to be of much interest to them.

I heard distant moans and wails of human souls undergoing torture, but we didn’t move any closer to wherever they were being held. Following a curving path, the carriage tilted back as we headed up a hill. Still holding Sam’s hand, I clutched the carriage grimly as the buildings became larger and slightly less shabby.

When we reached the top of the hill, Sam leaned out to see the palace. I did the same and almost lost contact with him. I caught a quick glimpse of a long driveway and a series of carriages parked out front of the building. Some were drawn by nags and others had nightmares in the traces. They eyed the undead beasts as if they were lunch. Even with milky eyes, the horses sensed the danger and did their best not to draw attention to themselves.

Like every other building that I’d seen so far, the palace was made of slick black rock. It seemed pretty small for the home of a Prince of hell. I’d expected it to be far larger and more menacing. Speaking of menacing, stone gargoyles graced the corners of each wall. Fortunately, they weren’t sentient and were just inanimate stone. I couldn’t see the entrance from here. There were too many carriages in the way. A tower reached upwards from the center of the palace. Bright red light came from the top where the beacon lay. A shorter spire was connected to the tower by a covered walkway. The room at the top was round. I had a feeling it was the prince’s chamber.

Sam sucked in a breath and I turned to see what had alarmed him. A carriage was heading up the hill towards us. I couldn’t hear any hooves, which meant it was being pulled by nightmares. If they drew too close, they’d sense us and give an alarm. Sam frantically tugged on my hand, signaling for us to jump. Trusting his instincts, I kept hold of his hand as we launched ourselves onto the cobbled street. Our carriage had slowed down enough for us to land on our feet rather than sprawling on our faces.

We scurried for cover as a pair of nightmares came into view. This coach was more ornate than the one we’d hitched a ride on. It was larger and had an image of a Demon Lord painted on the door. Her face was proud and hideous. Sam made us blend in with the cobblestones, but the closest nightmare neighed in warning when it sensed us.

Reaching the palace, Sam pulled me back against the wall and cloaked us both in illusion a moment before the black curtain that covered the window was yanked open. A suspicious face glared out. It matched the image on the door exactly. The lord’s eyes passed over us without seeing us and the carriage continued on. Several more swept up the hill and took their place in line. We peered around the corner to see the lords, captains and their entourages disembarking from their vehicles.

Sending the captains and lesser demons into the building, the lords moved into a huddle. “Does anyone know why we have been called here?” one of them asked.

“I heard a rumor that the master gate has finally been conquered,” another replied in a harsh whisper that carried further than she realized.

“Impossible,” a third lord breathed. “Even if it is true, how could our master have found out about it?”

It was a question I was wondering myself. Had the gate and its gargoyles betrayed us after all?

“Perhaps we will discover the answer to that when the meeting commences,” the female suggested.

I watched them file inside and bit back a groan when several soldiers stepped outside to stand guard. “We need to get inside and listen to their meeting,” I whispered to Sam.

He leaned around me to peer at the main doors then grimaced when he saw the guards. “This way,” he whispered and headed towards the rear of the building.

Rounding the corner, we saw another door that was also being guarded. The soldiers stood in a small circle, probably gossiping about the meeting. We couldn’t sneak past them without being seen and we couldn’t circle the building to look for another way in.

Retreating back around the corner before we could be spotted, I looked up and spied a window above my head. I judged the distance to be about twenty feet high and sighed in defeat. Even if I stood on Sam’s shoulders, I’d never be able to reach it.

You can reach it with my help,
Morax said and sent me a picture of me leaping up onto the leviathan’s calf. I smiled at the reminder. I might be puny and weak on Earth, but in the shadowlands and in hell, I could call on his aid. It seemed my unholy companions were helping me in another way as well. My wounds weren’t as painful now and appeared to be healing far faster than usual.

“Morax thinks I can reach the window if you act as my springboard,” I told Sam and pointed upwards. I’d sensed that he’d been exhausted after the trials, but he’d recovered enough to assist me again.

He swiveled to look up at it then looked at me. “What do you need me to do?”

“Stand facing the wall and brace yourself against it,” I instructed him. “I’m going to take a running jump and launch myself into the air.”

Willing to do whatever it took, he did as I asked. I backed away until Morax told me to stop then I let him take charge again. Sprinting towards Sam, I leaped onto his shoulders then sprang high into the air. Morax didn’t let me down. He used his strength to propel me high enough to grasp the window ledge.

Glad there was no glass to smash through, I hauled myself upwards. Slithering between thick black curtains, I bumped into a wooden chair on the way down. It slid a few inches across the slick floor with a harsh scraping sound. I cringed as I waited for the noise to bring demons running to investigate.

When no alarm was sounded, I cautiously climbed to my feet. Mostly empty, the room was small and held only a few pieces of ancient furniture. Comfort didn’t seem to be very high on the hell spawns’ list. There were no cushions, pillows or anything soft to sit on. There were no decorations of any kind. The walls, ceiling and floor were all made of the same grim black stone.

Crossing to the door, I discovered it was made of the same black wood as the carriages and furniture. I pressed my ear against it and heard nothing on the other side. Being as stealthy as possible, I tore one of the floor length black curtains down. Trusting Morax and the rest of the unholy gang to be able to hold Sam’s weight, I held onto one end and tossed the other end out through the opening.

Sam tugged on it to make sure it was secure then climbed up and slipped inside. He helped me pull the curtain back inside and we dropped it to the floor. Walking on our tippy-toes, we approached the door. The hinges creaked when I pulled it open a crack. No one was in sight, so I opened it wide enough to stick my head out. A long hallway stretched out to the right and a much shorter one ended at a corner to the left. Flaming torches lit the area intermittently. They flickered even though there was no breeze.

Debating about which direction we should take, the sound of raised voices coming from the nearest corner decided me. Stepping out into the hall, I waited for Sam to follow me then pulled the door shut. We headed left, staying close to the wall so Sam could mask our appearance.

Passing several doors, we came to an alcove that overlooked a large room below. Twenty Demon Lords and the same number of captains were seated on plain stone benches that faced a large throne. Just like the palace itself, the throne was made of black stone. I was relieved to see that the Prince of the ninth realm was missing.

A podium stood near the throne with a lord apparently holding the meeting. He was trying to call order, but everyone was speaking at once and his voice was being drowned out. “Enough!” he shouted and the ruckus died down. “Our Prince is absent at the moment. He is busy with business on Earth and has given me leave to act in his stead.” He clearly felt self-important at holding such a lofty position.

“That is the Lord who has taken charge of the town near the hellgate where the demons are amassing,” Sam whispered.

“I called you all here,” the lord continued, “because I received word several hours ago that the master gate has been conquered. I do not know how the Hellmaster became notified of the gate’s defeat. As we are all aware, he is far more powerful than any demon who has ever existed before. He has access to knowledge that the rest of us are not privy to.”

“He is not as powerful as our true leader,” an anonymous voice muttered.

“Yes, well, Satan appears to be gone and we will serve whoever we must if we wish to survive,” the lord at the podium said almost primly.

“What does this mean?” someone else asked. “Who could have possibly defeated the master gate?”

“There is only one being who it could possibly be,” the speaker intoned. “The dreaded Hellscourge has breached our defenses. She could be on her way here even as we speak. It is our task to keep the object that we have sworn to protect safe from her clutches.” He glanced upwards and I followed his gaze to the floor above us. A set of stairs led to a gigantic door. The tower that housed the prince’s private chambers had to be behind it. I shuddered at the thought of trying to sneak our way inside.

Sam elbowed me in the ribs and I dropped my gaze to the alcove directly across from where we stood. A heavily barred door was being guarded by two soldiers. It was directly above where the podium sat. If Sam hadn’t been using his camouflage to hide us, we’d have been spotted by the guards immediately. They stood at attention and tried to pretend that they couldn’t hear everything that was being said down below.

Nudging Sam backwards, we retreated to the hall. “At least we know where the object is being held now,” I whispered as we slunk back the way we’d come. Only one door was being guarded and it wasn’t the one that led to the inner chambers of the absent ruler of this realm.

“How are we going to get inside with two soldiers standing guard?” he whispered back.

“I have no idea,” I confessed.
A little help would be appreciated right about now,
I said to my posse.

Morax conferred with his colleagues, but came up empty.

I have a suggestion,
a timid voice said. I was pretty sure it was the hellscribe.

This should be good,
Morax said scornfully. I sensed him rolling his eyes.
What idea could you possibly have to offer that might be of help?

She can use a rune to infiltrate the room.
Stunned silence met that statement.

How does it work,
I asked.

It will allow you to create a door that will let you pass through the stone.

I sense that there is a catch,
Morax said suspiciously.