The Undoer (29 page)

Mictian stumbles, but catches himself, then stumbles again, falling to one knee. My hand falls from his grasp, and I use that split second to scuffle away from him. Dirt and gravel dig into my wrists and the stench of sulfur fills my nostrils, but I’m free and I don’t stop moving.

Mictian doesn’t rise. He stays slumped over, balanced on one knee. He slowly turns, glancing over his shoulder at me, and then, as though time is holding its breath, he tips forward and falls headfirst into the flaming depths of the pit.

I scramble back to the crater, terrified, but I have to see. Peering over the edge, relief bursts in my heart. He lies on the bottom, his once powerful body burning and turning to ash.

And then a heart-wrenching wail erupts behind me.

Brecken

Heat wafts up around me as I sink through the floor of the crater to the actual door, which is framed by polished obsidian pillars. The scent of sulfur, like a sweet perfume, fills me. Like a comforting blanket, I’m surrounded with the warmth of a thousand unseen worlds. I can go to any of them from this place.

I see where the Rift has broken the foundation, and all around the base of
The Door
, magma boils up like a river to anywhere, but it’s not supposed to. It escapes through the cracks and creates pathways into the darkness in every direction. It truly is the door of possibilities.

For one moment, I yearn to hitch a ride away from this place. I don’t have to be here. I can start over again with my brothers. I feel them at this very moment, inviting me back into the fold. I can be powerful again. I can be a general in the armies of Hell. I can be
Bretariel, The Great Undoer
again.

The pull is magnetic and pulsing, and I can picture that life ahead of me. A life of limitless power.

I reach for
The Door
’s knob, a clear, white crystal of the most beautiful workmanship, and I remember, instantaneously, that it can only be turned by a demon. No one can enter through this gate unless they are fully committed to evil, and the temptation to actually turn that knob is crushingly potent. Would I be allowed to enter or would I die on the spot for even trying? How much of the demon still remains inside me?

My heart races. I can’t believe I’ve even gotten this far. Like any other human being, I should have burned to a crisp as I passed through the crater. But I didn’t, and now I wonder why. Although, I know why.

I’m a demon.

I always have been. Like Jag said, a tiger can’t change its stripes. How could I think I was redeemable? How could I even think to escape the grasp of the underworld and why would I want to?

I place a hand on each pillar and close my eyes. They hum with the energy of a thousand ages. They’ve been here forever, a doorway to and from Hell. Their power emanates through me, a thrilling experience. I stand there long enough that when I once again open my eyes, I can’t seem to remember why I’m standing here. My mind draws a blank, and I yearn only to turn that handle. To be The Undoer.

I turn back to the door.

My fingers tighten on the crystal, the edges digging into my skin. The knob begins to turn under my grip, but a strange, sudden awareness surrounds me. An uncomfortable sensation that makes my skin itch, that fills me with anger and frustration. It holds me back from my destiny. My calling.

When this strange, painful energy has coursed through my body and finally enters my heart, I cry out in anguish, the agony unendurable. I lose my strength and fall to one knee as a phrase forms in my mind. Solid. Loud, and unmistakable.

Close the door
.

I’m confused. The door is already closed. It stands before me, solid, black, and unyielding.

Close the door.

“What do you want?” I scream out, my second knee smacking the stony ground. “It’s already closed!” Conflicted emotions battle inside me, warring so powerfully that I can’t even move or comprehend what is happening.

And then I do.

It’s clear, as though I’m looking into a crystal ball. I
know
.

It’s me. It has been me all along.

When I snuck away from the demon world and crossed over, I created a fissure between the world of gods and demons because I never truly let go of my demon heart. Not completely. I’d always left a piece of my soul open, a piece of The Undoer alive.

Close the door
, the words scream in my mind again.
Now!

They are coming. I can feel it. Just on the other side, millions of demons, no, more than that, on the threshold of this world. They’ve been called by Mictian. And now, I know what to do, as though I’m reading a script. I have to play my part. For Heidi, for the Cazadors, but most importantly, for myself.

Lurching away from the door, I close my eyes and use the same visualization I taught Heidi. Could it really be this simple, this obvious an answer? I had it with me all the time?

Clutching my chest, I say, “I am a demon, but I purposefully let go of that life. I give it up. I give it away. I no longer want it. It has no hold over me. I choose to be a free soul in the universes of man. I embrace my destiny and my future. I embrace eternity and the chance to be forgiven of my wrongdoings. I close this door in my heart, this rift I caused that has damaged the whole world and allowed evil to come through so rampantly. I offer myself as a sacrifice to close this door.”

A whirlwind of air whips around me, fiery sparks flying. The ground rumbles, an earthquake of power. The rock around the door groans and churns at my feet, shifting and collapsing, sealing the cracks. The demons roar on the other side, their screeching and wailing cut off as the fissure heals.

The moment it happens, I
feel
it. Something inside me shifts also. Like an old wound that has been seeping, it closes. That leaking out of my soul—that I didn’t even know was happening—stops. A feeling of wholeness fills me, and my heart swells. I’ve never felt anything like it and there are no words to describe the lightness inside, like I could lift right off my feet.

I turn back to the crater that burns and crackles just over my head. I only have to close my eyes and visualize being on the other side and I’m there, the golden embers sparking and popping around me.

I crawl to the top, amazed that I don’t suffer any burns. Not even my clothes are singed. I roll over the edge, breathing in the sweet scent of Earth and sky, and while I’m rejoicing in my newfound happiness, I am met by the most grief-stricken sound I have ever heard.

The sound of abject sorrow.

Brecken

I can’t seem to make my feet move. I’m frozen, staring and astonished at the scene before me. Rising at the crater’s edge, I stumble toward Heidi, who kneels on the ground, Jag’s lifeless body enfolded in her arms. Her wails of grief pierce the air, and her three brothers-in-arms stand as sentinels behind her.

All is quiet, but for the breaking hearts of the Cazadors, and I can’t stem the tears that threaten at the edges of my eyes also.

What I’m seeing can’t be real.

Jag is not dead, even though my eyes tell me it’s so. I’d come here knowing it was a one-way trip, that none of us would make it home, so the fact that only one of us has lost our life should be a comfort, but it’s not.

I kneel beside her, placing my hand on her shoulder, my chest filled with ache at the agony I see in her eyes. I have no words. There
are
no words for something like this. And even though I know this is not the end for Jag, I can’t stop feeling as if I have failed my new friends. I should have saved him. I should have been quicker at closing
The Door
.

Hugging my sister, I whisper how sorry I am, and how much I love her.

She hugs me back until all is silent in that barren wasteland, including her tears. “We should bury him here,” she says finally. “Next to
The Door
.”

“Are you sure?” I whisper.

“He sacrificed his life for this. He knew something… something was going to happen. I think he’d want this.”

Leaving him buried in the dirt in this desolate wasteland doesn’t feel right to me, or like something he’d want, but then another thought comes to me. “I can take him into the crater.” As soon as I say it, I know it’s the correct thing to do.

Heidi gazes into my eyes, the fiery light reflecting in those deep pools of sadness. She nods. As one, we lift Jag, all four of us bearing his weight back to the crater. At the edge, I slide over, cradling his body in my arms.

The crater’s fire sparks and pops around me as I make my way to the bottom, gently laying Jag’s body down on the embers. Even still, I am unharmed as I stand there, gazing down on his face, now smooth and at peace in death, all frustration and annoyance for this lost boy dissolving into admiration and love.

When I step back, the fire consumes his body. Our tears fall uninhibited until it’s over.

And then, something unexpected happens. The flames burn down to nothing, and then go out completely, the crater becoming dark and cool as smoke tendrils twist and spiral into the night sky, Jag’s spirit rising with it.

Brecken

“You tricked me.” I sit across the desk from Raphael in his bright, white office in Elysium. My heart is healed and I am a completely new person, yet I feel such heartache and sorrow. How is it possible to have succeeded in my mission and at the same time, feel like I failed? “You could have told me these things in the beginning. And then everything would have been different.”

“It’s not supposed to be different,” he says, his expression gentle and sad. “Plus, you wouldn’t have believed me. It had to be
this
way. You had to figure it out on your own. You had to be the one to realize that the cracks in
The Door
were caused by you. You were the only one who could fix them.”

I shake my head, not able to meet his gaze, all the memories of the last couple of months drifting through my mind—the first time I met the Cazadors when I watched Dean and Jag eat candy in the plaza. The first time I saw Heidi, sitting on the front steps of the church. Doug and Owen bantering back and forth, eating pretzels. The ache of loss, of what they have all lost, is such an incredible weight in my heart. “And what if I’d failed?”

“But you didn’t.”

This outcome doesn’t seem right and though I understand it now, the pain I went through—that everyone went through because of me—is difficult to let go of.

“Tell me what happened after they all got home,” Raphael says, although he is perfectly aware already. He sits back, his fingers threaded over his stomach, and waits, his expression loving and patient, like always.

With a heavy sigh, I begin, picturing the events in my mind as they occurred. “It was terrible. I’ve never seen anyone so… broken.”

“Heidi will recover,” he says sadly, “But it will take time.” He nods for me to continue.

I shake my head in denial, staring out the windows at nothing, picturing her face. The way she held Jag’s ruined body in her arms, the tender way she smoothed his hair from his face, the gentle kiss she placed on his lips for the last time.

Something twists in my heart, and I have to fight back tears as I relive it all. The memory is still too raw, too painful, and I look away so Raphael can’t see my sorrow.

“And Dean?” he asks me as though he doesn’t already know. “How is he doing?”

Raphael is trying to get me to talk. To get it out. To have closure. It’s a compassionate gesture, but I don’t want to talk about it. I want to hide in some corner of heaven and cry. A lone tear glides slowly down my cheek. I don’t bother to wipe it away.

“He’s okay. He sat with Heidi the whole way home. He never left her side, and I don’t think he ever will. He loves her.” That is the only consolation that allows me to be here rather than there with her. I couldn’t have left her otherwise. “I took Heidi and Dean back to my aunt’s house to grieve and heal. They’ll be okay there, surrounded by family. Dean’s gift went away.”

“Yes, I know. That kind of power doesn’t belong in the hands of a mortal. He had it for as long as was needful.”

I nod in agreement.

“And Doug and Owen?” Raphael asks. “They’re incredible boys. I really admire their dedication and grit.” He smiles and chuckles to himself. “I don’t think there are two other companions I’d rather have at my back.”

I picture their faces in my mind and smile. “Owen suffered a concussion, but he’ll be all right. The boys are back with their families, safe and sound, healing and dealing with what we all went through.” The Cazadors are no more. They aren’t needed. The demon problem has been handled. Everyone can go back to living a normal life… if that is even possible. “We’re lucky to all be alive really. Well, they are, I mean.”

Raphael doesn’t respond out loud, but he concurs with a dip of his head. “I’m sorry, Brecken, for everything difficult you’ve had to go through. It was necessary, but I’m sorry all the same.”

His words touch my heart, but they refresh the pain I carry. I need to be someplace where I can heal. I lean forward to let him know we’re finished here.

He gives me a sad smile and sighs. “You’ll move forward now. You’ve made amazing strides and Alisa couldn’t be happier.”

My head snaps up. “She knows?”

“Of course. She’s never stopped watching over you.”

My heart skips a beat as I picture her face. If only we could be together now. I don’t see that happening. She’s way ahead of me. I still have too far to go to even dream of being with her. But to someday be at her side… I’d go through
anything
for that.

Raphael rises, a stupid grin on his face. “I have a surprise for you.”

“What?” I ask, suddenly suspicious, but a part of me already knows, and hope pushes me from my chair. Rushing to the door, I fling it open. She’s there, a wide, beautiful smile spreading across her rosy lips, her golden hair tumbling over her shoulders. Her eyes crinkle as she lifts her arms to hug me, and her laughter bubbles around us like music.

I take her in my arms, pulling her close and inhaling the scent of cinnamon.

Her soul melds with mine.

This
. This is why I went through hell… and now… it’s totally worth it.