The Golden Age of Death (A CALLIOPE REAPER-JONES NOVEL) (35 page)

The owlet sighed, ruffling its feathers as it prepared to give her a thorough explanation.

“I knew they would come for me, so I took the precaution of splitting my soul between my body and my owlet. They came as I had predicted they would and I left my body before they could destroy it,”
the owlet that was Anjea said.
“It was the only way to make sure I would survive to help your daughter.”

Calliope was in danger. Caoimhe could taste it. She wondered if this was why Morrigan had been after her in the memory. If Morrigan knew something was terribly wrong and was trying to stop her from helping Callie…? She shuddered, the thought too hideous to follow any further.

The owlet seemed to be reading her mind.

“Morrigan has made a deal with the God Watatsumi to support his Death, Frank, in favor of your daughter. She will stop you from going to Calliope if you wake her.”

Caoimhe nodded she understood, though, if what the owlet said was true, she knew she would never return to Morrigan’s bed again.

“Calliope needs our help now,”
the owlet continued.
“I’ve come to fetch you. Will you go with me?”

“If it’s to help Calliope, then I’d follow you anywhere.”

Silent as a mouse, Caoimhe stood up and, ignoring her dizziness, crossed the room to her dresser. Easing the dresser drawer open as quietly as possible, she pulled out a soft white T-shirt and began the ritual of dressing.

Judas Iscariot had been letting way too many souls into the interior of Hell. He’d had no idea he was doing it because someone had put a spell on him, making him an unwitting poppet in a nasty game of “steal the souls.” But now Judas knew what had been done to him, he was beside himself with guilt. The trick would be to calm him down enough to glean what we could about his mystery friend. I was convinced the friend would turn out to be Enoch, the guy Jarvis had mentioned in conjunction with the human translation of my
How to Be Death
book, but we would just have to wait and see what information we could cadge out of Judas.

Of course, all of this was way easier said than done.

“No more crying,” I said, patting Judas’s arm. “We need you to tell us everything about this mystery guy.”

Judas nodded then bit his lip.

“He called himself ‘the Man in Gray.’”

I wanted to say: Well, that’s a stupid name.

But instead, I said:

“That’s great. A great descriptor.”

I looked over at Daniel and Marcel, who were standing by the bloodred sea marking the entrance to the East Gate of Hell.
They were whispering together, heads lowered so I couldn’t make out what they were saying.

I decided to ignore their conspiring and concentrate on Judas. He seemed comfortable with me, Runt, Cerberus, and Bernadette (the soul who’d clued us into the discrepancies between who was
actually
on the scroll and who was a plant from the Man in Gray), but every so often he would look sideways at the boys as if he were afraid they were going to come over and attack him.

“Look right here,” I said, drawing Judas’s focus away from Daniel and Marcel and back to me. “Where were the souls you let in supposed to go? Did he ever say anything about that?”

Judas looked nonplussed. There were tears in the corners of his eyes, and I saw before me a beaten man, one who cowed before everyone and everything because of the centuries spent existing under the weight of such immense guilt.

“No, he didn’t say a thing about anything like that. We never talked about souls.”

“It’s okay,” Bernadette said, coming over and wrapping an arm around Judas’s shoulder. “No one’s trying to make you feel bad. This is all very important. Just think hard and we’ll see what’s hidden in that noggin of yours.”

Turning the “grandmotherly setting” to high, she squeezed him to her and he finally started to calm down.

“He did sometimes refer to something he called
The Pit
,” Judas whispered. “It was where he was doing his top-secret project.”

Cerberus gave a start and my gaze slid to him. Something Judas said had registered with Snarly head. I could see it in his large, unblinking eye.

“What?” I asked.

Snarly head frowned, shook his head.

“It could be nothing—”

“If you’re thinking it, then it’s not nothing,” I said.

I could tell Snarly head was pleased with my compliment.

“She’ol,” he continued, more brusquely. “It has been called
The Pit
by many. It’s where Enoch has spent these many centuries in imprisonment.”

“Doesn’t sound like he’s imprisoned there anymore,” Daniel offered.

I had to agree with Daniel. It looked like someone had sprung him from jail in order to further their own ends.

“Do we know where
The Pit
is?” I asked.

Daniel and Cerberus exchanged a look. Ugh, more male conspiring—it drove me nuts. If we were going to play girls against boys, then I was taking Judas for the girl’s team. The boys could just hang out in the desert all by themselves and we ladies (and Judas Iscariot) would go fix the problem without them.

“Obviously you guys know something you’re not telling me,” I said, letting them see my annoyance.

“We’ve been having problems with that part of Hell for a while now,” Daniel said, rubbing the weariness from his eyes. “It’s always been kind of a no-man’s-land, but since the Devil was deposed, it’s gotten even worse. Besides, She’ol has always been the purveyance of the Angels—until recently. Since they’ve opted to stay mostly out of the human world these days, places like She’ol have been up in the air, as far as who has control over them.”

“So someone like Enoch could be AWOL and no one would have any idea he was even gone.”

At least Snarly head had the courtesy to look sheepish about not divulging this pertinent piece of information until now. Did they not think I’d want to know something like this? I mean, c’mon menfolk.

“Boys, I think it’s high time you led us into the interior of Hell and showed us
The Pit
. This way we can actually try to stop the whole universe-collision-extravaganza before it’s too late.”

I let my gaze linger on Alternate Frank, who was hanging upside down from the dumb head’s mouth, drool covering his torso. He did not look happy about it.

“Because if you want Alternate Frank here in charge, then just keep doing what you’re doing,” I added. “You might as well be working for the other team, the way you’re withholding info.”

I wanted the boys to understand who they were going to be dealing with in the future if they didn’t get their butts in gear and start sharing all their information with me. Because Alternate Frank wouldn’t be half as cool as I was—especially when he remembered how “nicely” they’d treated him.

“I know the way, too, and I’d like to go with you. To make up for my mistake,” Judas said, a hangdog expression on his gaunt face.

It was the meekest call to arms I’d ever heard, but since he was the only one offering, I happily took him up on his services.

“Thank you, Judas. You can definitely go with us.”

Judas looked surprised to be taken so seriously—especially by someone like me (Death)—and he stood a little taller after that.

“Are you guys coming?” I asked, as Runt, Bernadette, and I followed Judas toward the red sea.

“Hold on,” Daniel said.

Me and my mostly female crew stopped near the water’s edge, waiting.

“Someone has to stay behind and man the East Gate,” he finished lamely.

“Not Cerberus,” I said, raising one eyebrow to show I meant business. I wasn’t going to this “
Pit
” place without Cerberus. He was one scary-ass mofo and I wanted him there with me if I ran into any trouble.

Daniel was at a loss. Obviously
he
was going to come with us—and there was no way Marcel was going to stay behind since he considered himself to be my “champion” and was all about dogging my every step, ostensibly for “protection.”

“I could do it,” Bernadette said quietly, all eyes turning in her direction.

“I don’t think—” Daniel began, but I interrupted him.

“Great idea. Daniel, swear her in.”

My boyfriend was incredulous—I don’t think he’d ever been bossed so thoroughly before. He gave me a sidelong glance then shook his head, letting me know I was going to get an earful later. I hated to be a bitch, but I was more than willing to take one for the team if it meant we got the show on the road.

“Bernadette,” Daniel said, purposely not looking in my direction. “With this dispensation, you are now the Guardian of the East Gate of Hell. May this confer all powers of the office to you forever and always, or until I, or my successors, should choose to revoke them. Good luck to you.”

The words were no sooner out of his mouth than she began
to transform. Gone was the elderly woman we’d first met, replaced now by a ravishing young woman with dark brown hair and raffish eyes. She held up her hands, eyes goggling at how smooth and unlined they were. Then she touched her face, her fingers trembling as she felt the tender, young flesh.

“I’m…
young
again,” she breathed, tears trickling down her cheeks. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“My pleasure,” Daniel said, and he genuinely seemed pleased to have brought her so much joy.

As we left the newly improved Bernadette standing by the edge of the bloodred sea, one hand on the scroll, the other waving us good-bye, I wondered how she would take to her new job. She had a no-nonsense quality about her I really responded to. Maybe if I got out of this thing with my life still intact, I’d lure her away from Hell with a cushy job at Death, Inc.

I was tired of all the underhanded subterfuge, the diehard political affiliations…the narcissism and bad behavior at Death, Inc. I could really stand to have a few more people working for me who I could trust to be on my side when the going got tough.

I found myself at the back of the group with Daniel and Runt as we hit the path leading into the thick of the bloodred sea. As we walked, the water boiled and oozed around us, giving our group a bit of shade from the oppressive heat—and giving me a little relief from the intense sweating my body had been doing since I’d arrived in Hell.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered as I reached out and took Daniel’s hand. He seemed surprised, but didn’t pull away. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. It was shitty.”

He shrugged—which meant he agreed with my estimation I’d been shitty to him.

“Mad at me?” I asked, pushing him a little.

He shook his head.

“I’m never mad at you. I just wish…”

He didn’t finish the thought.

“Wish what?” I asked, starting to feel a little defensive.

“I just wish sometimes you would think before you speak.”

“Woah,” I said, his words yanking me out of my repentant mood.

Was I just supposed to censor everything I said and did so I
wouldn’t offend my boyfriend? That sounded about as exciting as having my teeth pulled without Novocain.

“I don’t want to talk about it right now, okay, Cal?” he said. “Can we deal with this stuff later when you’re not acting all annoyed?”

Let’s just say the word “annoyed” didn’t even begin to cover how I was feeling.

“Sure, whatever,” I said, dropping his hand and picking up my pace. “C’mon, Runt.”

Runt and I took off, leaving Daniel to bring up the rear all by himself.

*   *   *

to get to
The Pit
, or She’ol—or whatever you chose to call it—you had to trek through some really rank parts of Hell. Not that I’d spent much time in the interior of Hell (zero time actually), so it wasn’t like I had anything to compare it to. Still, I knew the nasty parts of town when I saw them…and our journey took us right through them.

It’d taken us a while to get beyond the bloodred sea—the path, which was sandy and irregularly planed, like the bottom of any good body of water should be, kept the going slow. We had to pick our way around sinkholes whose terminuses lay miles below us, and avoid spots where flash floods washed across the path, dragging away any stragglers who didn’t start running as soon as they felt the ground rumbling beneath them.

By the time we’d reached the end of the path and stepped back onto dry land, I was really stewing over what Daniel had said to me. I didn’t want to be angry with him, but I couldn’t stop myself from growling on the inside.

Stupid, stupid liking of boys,
I thought, anger burbling up every time I replayed our conversation in my head.

I decided the best thing I could do was to just stay away from him until I’d calmed down—and he seemed to be in agreement. A few minutes after the fight, he’d passed me by on his way to catch up with Marcel and Cerberus.

Thankfully, Runt had chosen to stay by my side, sticking as close to my heels as possible as we walked—and I found myself talking to her as we trudged along the path, even though I knew she couldn’t answer me.

“Am I an evil bitch?” I asked as we’d skirted the edge of one of the larger potholes.

“I mean. If I am, just smack me with your tail.”

She looked up at me with sad eyes then gave me a halfhearted swipe with her tail.

“So I’m half a bitch?”

Tongue lolling from the heat, she smacked me harder on the leg.

I guess that’s a yes,
I thought.

We’d gone on like this for a while—me asking Runt if I was an ass, her half smacking me with her tail—and then Runt had encouraged me to pick up my pace, so we could catch up with the boys.

I was sure she and I could take care of ourselves if we’d gotten separated, but she was being really pushy about us staying close to the rest of our party. I chose to stick by Marcel and Cerberus, basically ignoring Daniel. He did the same by walking with Judas—though he looked rather bored by the East Gatekeeper’s nonstop chatter.

I’d known what kind of stuff happened in Hell, the debasement and humiliation, but the stories didn’t prepare me for the reality of what I saw.

Each “neighborhood” of Hell (I use the term very loosely) was set up so you would eke out your punishment time alongside the other true believers from your religion or philosophical way of thinking. Since we’d entered the interior of Hell via the East Gate, we got to walk through a number of the monotheist neighborhoods. For me, it was like stepping into another world: Tenement-like wattle-and-daub buildings crowded on top of each other, people herded together like cattle as they stared blankly out at us through holes in the crumbling walls. Even the roads and alleyways were dilapidated, a sheen of human excrement and dirt covering everything we saw.