The Hatter is Mad: An Urban Fantasy Novel (The Lillim Callina Chronicles Book 2) (17 page)

“Now you see what the value of your heart is. Now you are worthy. In your own unworthiness, you have shown me what the value of this Diadem is to you. You have shown me so much, little human, and have shown me nothing at all.” Without another word, Raul dropped the Diadem. It clanked against the brick road and went out. What remained behind was a dented, tarnished crown. No brilliant gems were in place now. It looked like they’d been pried away. “Take your pitiful prize, Dioscuri. Take it and leave my world.”

Chapter 27

“What do you mean he’s the Blue Prince?” Masataka said as he took a step forward. He whirled then, turning to see his brother lying in the dirt. Mitsoumi gripped the Diadem in one hand, while his other hung uselessly at his side, flesh blackened beyond use. “Brother!” Masataka shrieked as he sprinted toward Mitsoumi and gathered him up in his arms. “What happened to you?”

“I got your Diadem, Masataka,” Mitsoumi said with a grin and held it out to his brother.

Masataka’s eyes went wide as he stared at the dented crown. “I thought it’d be… I don’t know, shinier?” he said taking it from Mitsoumi and holding it up to the light.

“It was. I think I broke it,” Mitsoumi said as he pushed himself to his feet. “I’ll be okay. This is nothing,” he added as Masataka took a few steps away, oblivious.

“Oh,” Masataka replied, turning to glance at his brother. “Sorry, are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I—” Thick gobs of saliva spattered against Mitsoumi’s uniform as he flung his body haphazardly to the side, narrowly avoiding the thick, claw-like limb that whipped out at him.

The smell of sulfur invaded my nostrils, bringing tears to my eyes and obscuring my vision as I turned to look at the creature. It was a weird greenish color that was so dark it was almost black and resembled a giant arachnid.

“Who would have thought, young Dioscuri, that you would be able to retrieve the Revenant’s Diadem? Once I take it from you and deliver it to Jiroushou Manaka, he will reward me greatly,” cooed the serpentine voice of the monster.

“Masataka, get out of here!” Mitsoumi screamed, yanking his sword, Gram, from its sheath and pointing it at the giant spider.

“But you’re hurt, Mitsoumi,” Masataka said as he reached back for his trident. “And I’m stronger, I can take this guy.”

“I know you’re stronger. That’s why you need to go. Only you can keep it from these guys. All I can do is buy you a little time.” And with those words, Mitsoumi turned his back to his brother and decided to be a hero.

Masataka stood there, looking at his brother for a moment before disappearing down the road in a flash. I swallowed and shook his head. Had Masataka really just left his brother, the royal heir, to die defending his back?

“Look, you ugly son of a bitch, I’m not letting you get the Diadem, so you best just go run and hide,” Mitsoumi said and the creature smirked.

“You can’t stop me,” it said and lashed out with one of its many limbs. The blow slammed into Mitsoumi’s ribs. The air in his lungs expelled so violently that it was laced with blood. A fit of ragged coughing overtook Mitsoumi as he slumped to his knees. The creature loomed over him and cackled.

Mitsoumi’s teeth cracked and tiny shards of splintered bone bit into his flesh as another blow slammed him face first into the gravel-strewn earth. I fought the urge to look away because this ass kicking was partially my fault.

He got this beating to bring me back to life. Even though he didn’t even care about me, he decided to stay here while his brother escaped with the Revenant’s Diadem. It was noble, and it was stupid. It made my stomach twist up into knots because he did it for me.

“I must have done something truly right this day,” the spider said as it wrapped one of its tentacles around Mitsoumi’s neck and hoisted him into the air as if he weighed nothing. Acidic saliva dripped from its gaping maw, splattering against the brick road and sizzling. The stench of week old meat filled my nostrils, and I struggled not to gag. “To be rewarded with the Diadem.” One large eye swiveled around on the spider’s face to glare at Mitsoumi who was turning an awful shade of blue.

“You must be thinking, ‘I’m certainly glad I sent the Diadem’s holder running away while spending my life to save his,’” the creature cackled, pointing into the distance with one limb. “Such things are empty. Both your dreams and your promises are worth less than your pathetic little life. There is no escape for a soul like Dirge. She will wait in hell until the powers decide to unmake her. The life you hoped to save is, at best, huddled in a corner while the demons of hell, ravenous as they are, search for her with slavering jaws. There they will find her, and they will inflict incredible torment on her rotting carcass. There will be no requiem for Dirge Meilan. This is the command of Jiroushou Manaka, and thus it shall be.”

I swallowed and chill swept over me. I couldn’t remember that in-between time. The one everyone kept insisting Dirge spent in hell. I couldn’t remember if what they said was true. But what if it was? What if Jiroushou Manaka was so powerful that even after Dirge died, he’d reached into hell and tortured her? The thought made me cold inside.

All this time, I had been angry at Dirge, but the more I learned about her, the more I felt sorry for the way I’d acted. Everything told me she had been a hero, but instead, I’d been spitting on her memory. It made me feel like a spoiled child. Especially considering that even my mother had been able to look past the woman being her rival. Couldn’t I at least try and do the same? Try in see her for the hero she really had been? If I did that, well, I’d have to work hard to earn the right to be compared to her.

A bright searing light exploded to the left, and I whirled toward it. Joshua Landers and Warthor Ein were visible for a moment as the flash subsided. Warthor charged forward, his blade transforming into something that looked more like the spine of some great monster than a sword. The demon moved, but even as it did so, Warthor’s weapon came down and obliterated the creature in one fell swoop.

Mitsoumi fell to the ground, his body collapsing into a bloody heap. Warthor bent to help him up, a curious smile on his face. It was the one that said everything was going exactly as he expected, and while amusing, was somewhat disappointing.

“This is where we must part ways. I’ve never been quite clear with you from the start, Mitsoumi,” Warthor said, his blade clanging against its sheath as he brushed the dirt off Mitsoumi’s shoulder. “Unless the Diadem is fully awakened, it won’t resurrect anything beyond memories, no matter how much power you have. Awakening the damn thing, my friends, takes souls, thousands and thousands of precious souls.”

Warthor’s crazy smile appeared again. “That’s why I told Masataka to go ahead and prepare the spell while I came for you. He seemed quite concerned for you by the way. I feel you ought know this because when your dear brother activates the spell, his life will be forfeited. The Diadem must be turned on so it can begin gathering souls. I think Masataka knows this will happen.” Warthor paused, his hand lingering on the hilt of his blade for a moment. “Then every being that dies, be it human, Dioscuri, or demon, will be cast into the Diadem’s burning fire. No more reincarnation, no more heaven and no more hell… just the blank emptiness of the void. The unfortunate thing is that even if the Diadem absorbs everything from now until eternity, it won’t be enough. Then again that was never the point.”

Okay. Warthor was insane. I mean I knew that. I heard about what he did and how it all worked out, and obviously, he won because I was alive. Looking at him now, in this moment, and hearing his voice let me know one thing. Warthor didn’t care if he won or not. If I came back that’d be great. If I didn’t come back and the world ended, well he was okay with that too because he didn’t want to live in a world without Dirge.

Warthor Ein was okay with destroying the universe to bring Dirge back, and I didn’t know why. I didn’t have any particular memories from Dirge’s life that led me to believe they shared a special bond. I couldn’t think of anything that would make him willing to go all ‘apocalyptic ultimatum’ just to resurrect her.

I shivered. He did this thing, this crazy, horrible thing to bring Dirge back to life… and I didn’t know why.

“You… you knew this all along?” Mitsoumi asked, staggering forward, blood dripping down his face. “And still you sent my brother to his death? Just to resurrect one girl? You would sacrifice all those people? You would sacrifice Masataka? He was your friend.”

“She is… special to me,” Warthor said, his face taking on an almost specter-like quality. “She is worth more to me than your brother will ever be. She can end this war. She alone can stop the demons from ever returning. That is worth more than your brother to me. If it was the other way around, if Masataka was the key to their destruction, rest assured, he would sit higher in the ledger.”

Mitsoumi screamed and lunged at the Invincible Warthor Ein, but even as he did so, millions of tiny icicles exploded from Warthor’s weapon. Sleet and snow hammered into Mitsoumi, tearing into his flesh and flinging him backward into the dirt. The ground beneath them fast froze, turning slick with ice as Warthor stepped onto Mitsoumi’s burned arm, pinning it to the ground.

“Everything has a cost,” Warthor said, shaking his head. He wiped his face with the back of his hand. “Yet no matter how much you pay, it still costs and costs. I want you to remember something, when it seems the costs are insurmountable, when it seems like something is impossible, the only way to press through it, the only way to become the victor when all seems lost is to change the rules. This is because if you want something bad enough, if you are willing to sacrifice it all, the universe will shift, if only for a moment, and truly spectacular things are possible. I’m going to force the universe to shift. It’s about damn time the universe shifted.”

“Even Dirge Meilan is not worth this price,” Joshua said as he looked up. Tears brimmed in his eyes. His voice was hoarse and full of pain. His cheeks were reddened with emotion and the snail trails of tears. “I watched her die. I watched her put my life, and the lives of everyone, before her own. I watched her disemboweled form seize Manaka… But to expend enough power to destroy the universe to bring her back? Dirge would not want that. It would be better to let her go, Warthor.”

Warthor shook his head. “If it were only that simple my friend. I have spoken with Zef and he agrees. The Lords of Death will not allow her to enter Heaven while Mattoc is still bound to her, and she will not leave him. She cannot stay in Hell. Already, Manaka’s allies in hell have attacked her. They will unmake her given enough time.”

Another shiver rippled down my body. I looked down at the spot where Mattoc was bound to me. I just recently learned why he was here with me, of the deal Dirge made with Rhapsody to save both of them. I knew that both of them were trapped in hell together and that Mattoc wouldn’t talk about it. Was this why Warthor tried to bring me back? Was all that garbage about stopping Manaka, just that? Garbage?

Was that the real reason he moved heaven and earth, literally? Was it because Dirge was trapped in hell and was too damn stubborn to leave her friend behind? Had that stubbornness, that devotion to Mattoc caused Warthor to risk unmaking the world?

Mitsoumi screamed and tore forward. His arm wrenched violently as he moved with the magic-charged strength of a Dioscuri. Sinew and bone snapped, his ravaged skin gave way, and blood spurted from his arm as his sword flashed through the air. The blade dug deeply into Warthor’s side and blood rained down on him, warm and wet. Mitsoumi called on his power and on the power of blood. That was his specialty, blood magic. He could weave tremendous spells with just a drop of his opponent’s blood and now he was covered in Warthor’s.

“Blacken all reality,” he cried. “Gram!”

Warthor faltered as Mitsoumi’s sword, Gram, exploded, sending waves of crimson shrapnel through Warthor’s body. Blood dripped from Warthor’s side, burning white hot and caustic in his veins. Warthor fell to his knees, his hands balled into fists as waves of pain wracked his body.

Warthor gritted his teeth, and his magic lashed out. I staggered under the enormity of it, under the sheer force Warthor was calling down. It quenched Mitsoumi’s power like a match in a thunderstorm and sent him tumbling, his useless arm tearing free of his body. Blood and bits of bone fountained outward in a spray that fast froze on the icy terrain.

“Remember this day well, Mitsoumi,” Warthor coughed, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. “This is the day you injured the Invincible Warthor Ein.”

“Sometimes, Warthor, you just have to let the dead stay dead,” Joshua said. His face was solemn as he watched Warthor regain his feet. “I can’t let you unmake the world just to bring Dirge back. It isn’t what she’d want.”

Blood dripped from between Warthor’s teeth as his fevered eyes met Joshua’s eyes. “Friend,” Warthor said, his tongue snaking out to lick his own blood off his lips. “If I release my full power, you may survive, but I guarantee Mitsoumi will not. Make your choice now.”

“You have already made my choice for me,” Joshua said as he knelt down by Mitsoumi and placed his hand over the wounded shoulder. His hand flashed with heat, and the smell of burning flesh filled the air. “Call me friend no longer, Warthor. After this, I will find you in a quiet place, and I will kill you.”

“Very well.” Just like that, Warthor Ein was gone.

“He’s going to kill Masataka and activate the Diadem,” Mitsoumi wheezed, “Joshua… you must… stop him. I don’t… matter.”

“I’m sorry, Mitsoumi, but I cannot sacrifice you too.” Joshua shook his head. “I just can’t.”

“Yes, you can.” Mitsoumi struggled against Joshua’s grip. “You must.”

Chapter 28

The scene changed, leaving us standing just inside Zef’s house on the hill. Where normally there was the bustling of travelers, the grumbling of guards in the rain swept night and the lights of some impromptu party, there was none. Blood-strewn bodies filled the floors and bloody handprints covered the walls. Mitsoumi and Joshua walked forward, and I followed along behind them, mouth agape. It looked like someone came through the place with a wrecking ball made of razorblades and hatred.