There But For The Grace (14 page)

I went with the only plan I could come up with, before I was overwhelmed. Reaching back as the hound on my back tried to get at my neck, I caught hold of it, digging my fingers in, and dragged it forward, then slammed it hard onto the ice. My sword followed, through its neck and into the ice. The ice cracked, but didn’t break, and a hound caught on to my non-sword arm. Holding it at bay while it tried to bite down, I drove my blade down again. This time, the ice shattered around me, and the next oncoming hounds plunged through it and into the water. The several immediately behind them saw them, but couldn’t stop, momentum carrying them forward, the ice giving way under them, as well.

I managed to pitch backward as the ice started breaking apart all around, the weight of the oncoming pack encouraging the fracturing, until what had been a solid sheet of ice became numerous unsteady islands and floes. More of the hellhounds pitched into the water, while others kept coming, leaping over the breaks, digging their claws in to find purchase in the ice. Managing to barely keep from tipping forward into the water, I struggled with the hounds holding fast on to me. They paid no mind to what had happened to the rest of their pack, or the fact that if I fell in, they’d go with me. Caught up in the mindless frenzy of their hunt, they doubtless would have been perfectly content to fall into Cocytus if it meant they could drag me down with them.

Meanwhile, as the ice broke further apart, human hands and heads emerged from the water, desperate souls trying to drag themselves up out of their watery prison. Most attempts simply met with failing to find a grip on the ice. Others were briefly more successful, damned souls dragging themselves up, inevitably only to meet with an oncoming hellhound, who either helped drag them onto the ice, only for the screaming soul to disappear amongst the savage pack, or just as often, being borne right back into the water, with one of the hounds locked on and tearing at them as both disappeared back into the frigid depths.

My little island of ice tipped back and forth, threatening to upend as I fought the hounds who’d gotten to me. A few more made the leap across broken ice onto the floe with me. The first to do so slipped and fell backwards into the water, claws scrabbling for purchase on the ice the whole way. The next three were more successful, though their charge was somewhat slowed when the ice almost upended. It righted itself as they rushed forward as best they could, while I continued to try and get their packmates to let go.

I finally managed to get the one with the tight grip on my arm to let go by putting him between myself and the next hellhound. In their maddened state, they didn’t hesitate to attack one another for a chance to get at me. That gave me just enough time to finally stab the hound tearing at my wing, though he took some more feathers with him in his deathgrip by the time I managed to pull him away.

In trying to dodge the next one, I ended up falling backwards, slipping on the ice. He landed on top of me, and it was all I could do to keep his snapping jaws away from my throat. The momentum of the slide almost carried us both off of the ice, stopping just short. I stabbed upward into his gut and shoved him backwards into the water, clearing my field of vision just enough to let me see the next hound coming, to kick at it and send it sliding backwards off the ice before it could get a hold of my leg.

Free for only a moment, with more coming, I dug my sword in just enough to let me stand, then chanced a jump. I still had to keep moving, or either the hounds or the waters would claim me.

I managed to reach the next ice floe, sliding along it, and almost tipping it. I found my balance just in time to push off, leaping to the next little island of ice. This time, I fell as I landed, and slid far too quickly along the ice. I only stopped before hitting the water because I crashed into one of the damned, who was trying to pull himself up. Unfortunately, he went back into the lake, but it arrested my momentum long enough for me to dig the sword in so I didn’t follow.

I pulled myself up and jumped to the next, just in time for another hound to land hard on the floe I’d just been on, hitting the edge hard enough to cause it to flip entirely. I made it to the next floe, then managed to, barely, dart across three small chunks of ice, before having to dive across a gap, doing my best to extend the leap with my battered wings. I had to dig my sword in to arrest my momentum again, and the ice I was on threatened to split further under the stab, but held.

I was starting to get up when I felt teeth dig into my leg. Not all of the hounds were navigating the ice, but some were, and one had caught up with me. He also had only barely made the long jump, and was scrambling for a claw-hold at the edge of the floe, but wasn’t letting that distract him from trying to kill me himself, or hold me until more caught up.

I dug the sword in more, with the spider-web cracks growing and extending out from it, but he dragged me back anyway, with my sword slicing through the ice. Usually I was glad for the cutting edge and the ease it sliced even through stone, but not here. The ice tipped, and the hound slipped back into the water. The freezing water just left it more intent to hold on, digging its teeth in, trying to drag me in after it.

By the time I was able to turn the sword in the ice to stop my slide, I was underwater to the waist. The hound was still clinging on tenaciously, even totally submerged, and judging by the howls, more were trying to navigate their way out to me. Thankfully, none had attempted the growing leap yet, but they were doubtless trying to find a path out to the ice floe, even as it was threatening to tip and break apart all at once.

My numb fingers were already struggling to hold on to the hilt when the situation worsened. In addition to the hound with its jaws locked on my calf, I felt at least three sets of hands close on me, as damned souls started trying to climb me to reach the surface. In the panicked manner of drowning people, they weren’t at all methodical, just grabbing hold and struggling for any lifeline, even if they take that lifeline under with them. As one rose to the surface, climbing over my shoulders, I elbowed him, risking letting go of the hilt with one hand, knocking him away as he was grabbing for my face, pulling my head backwards.

I managed to dislodge one of the damned from climbing up my leg, and kicked at the hellhound, even as my numb grip on the sword loosed a little more. At the third kick to the head, the hellhound finally let go. There was a scream, and then gurgling. My best guess was that in the hound’s flailing for a renewed grip, it had caught hold of the damned soul instead of me, and dragged them both back under. Grabbing the hilt with both hands, I pulled myself slowly and painfully back out of the water and onto the ice. I didn’t have long to recover and get to my feet, as the cracking and breaking-apart continued. Pulling myself up with help from the sword, I made a clumsy, sliding attempt at a running leap, willing my legs to work properly after the ice bath, and landed heavily on a larger ice floe. That, too, cracked, but held.

A few more sliding leaps and shambling, awkward movements, and I finally reached more solid ice again. The baying and howling continued behind me, but still some way away. For the moment, I’d gotten back ahead of the pack. As I started limping along the ice, fighting the wind and difficult footwork, I heard them on the move again. This time, they didn’t seem to be getting closer, so I guessed they were racing perpendicular to me along the ice, trying to find a better place to cross. That would take them some time. Picking up my trail again would take more—not nearly enough, but I’d bought myself some desperately needed time.

***

I finally got off of the ice, stumbling and collapsing into a snowdrift. I packed snow against my new bite wounds as best I could while I rested, fighting off the urge to let myself relax any further than was necessary to tend to the new injuries. Without the immediate desperation of pursuit, it was more difficult than ever to fight off the numbness in my body pushing me to rest, but I got back to my feet, and resumed cutting through the crust of ice atop the thigh-deep snow, and forging ahead through it.

A new sound joined the high pitched howl of the winds: a deep, anguished groan. I heard it before I saw it, but soon enough, I came upon the next group of the damned. These people were not completely buried in the ice and snow like before, but only their faces emerged. The anguished groaning was the vocalization they had left to them, droning on, many of them blending together in an ongoing symphony of misery. Others were silent, just staring upward soundlessly, eyes frozen open.

As I passed through them, some started making other noises, gurgling, screaming, or begging semi-coherently for help. There was nothing I could do for them, save causing no extra harm, so I made my way through as quickly as possible. That, too, proved difficult, as there were vast fields of them, bound in ice and suffering. While I still needed to cut through the ice and forge through it to make progress, I had to be careful where I cut or moved, to avoid all of the thousands of treacherous souls here.

It took far too long to clear the vast fields, but I finally came within sight of the hills. The side I was on was an almost vertical climb, coated with ice. Not nearly as bad as some of the climbs within the caverns, but here, my hands were numb, and the ice coating them was thick. Visibility remained limited, so I couldn’t see if there was a way around them, and I didn’t want to waste time searching. I was starting to hear the baying and howling of the hounds in the distance again, and this was finally a barrier that might slow them down again if there wasn’t an easy way around — and even if there was, if they were on my scent when they found this place, it would be a lot of work for handlers to herd the monstrous creatures to it, rather than leaving them to claw and scrabble at the icy walls here trying to follow me.

The sword found purchase in the walls, but, unfortunately, my fingers and feet didn’t. Eventually, I was able to break the ice up enough with kicks and punches to make my own finger-and-toeholds, but the ice was stronger than it should have been, and it made the climbing much slower. Had I not been using the sword as a climbing tool again, I’d have fallen numerous times. The effort also left shallow cuts and bloody streaks on my fingers. Had I been any of the mortal souls below, and somehow escaped the ice, any attempt to climb here would have torn my hands and feet apart. If the hellhounds were inclined to follow a trail, I was certainly leaving one. The wind did its best to dislodge me as well, forcing me to spend some time during the climb just holding on tight and waiting out the worst gusts.

Near the top, however, the wind died down, leaving my vision and hearing clearer. Without that, I’d never have heard the laughter. Pulling myself up the last few feet, I discovered, thankfully, I wasn’t the cause. A Fallen and two Demons stood atop the hill, looking down in the other direction, away from me. Nearby was a small guardpost, and looking in either direction, I was able to see others like it, just far enough away that I could occasionally make out movement, without being able to clearly see who occupied the area around them. Though they were probably set, in part, to watch that no one attempted to escape up the side of the hill, they seemed far more intent, and entertained, by activity on the far side of the hill from me.

That inattentiveness made it easier to put down the Fallen before she even realized I was there. The first Demon had likewise fallen before she could draw her weapon. I was slow enough, and injured enough, that even with surprise, I almost let the third shout a warning. I got my hand on his throat while struggling to extract my sword from the ribcage of his fellow. He got his weapon out and left a jagged cut in my arm with the blade, but not enough to force me to let go. I put my sword through him and waited ‘til he stopped struggling. I checked the guardhouse to make sure I wasn’t missing anyone, and found it empty of people, but with a few provisions. I was able to manage better binding for some of my injuries from torn cloth, then settled in to rest in the warmth of the guard station for a few minutes, cautiously listening for any sign that my intrusion had been noticed.

Eventually, hearing nothing save the wind down the back side of the hill, I emerged to see what they’d been watching.

In the bright, icy fields below, a number of other Demons were playing a cruel game. Thousands of damned lined the area below, some buried as deep as up to their necks, while others had as much as their upper body free of the ice, buried to their waist. The Demons, able to move by whatever means across the top of the ice, were moving among them. Now and then, they’d select two, pulling them up out of the ice. They dragged the chosen pair, whether struggling or willing, to an area of packed ice, flinging them both onto the solid surface. Demons with pointed sticks prodded at the chosen souls any time they attempted to flee. I was able to see two of these small arenas clearly from my vantage point, but could also see there were others further away.

In one of them, the two chosen took to fighting quite quickly, earning rousing cheers and jeers from the assembled Demons, and, presumably, the audience on the hills as well. I couldn’t be sure if there was some kind of gambling on the fights, or if it was simply brutal entertainment, but I guessed the former, in addition to the latter. In the other arena, one of the combatants took to it much faster, while the smaller figure chosen just tried to elude him.

Both fights ended at nearly the same time, and with the same final result. After vicious fights in both cases, one quite closely fought, the other a one-sided brutalization, the Demons took the chosen souls back to the ice. The victor received a more favorable place in the ice, buried only to the waist, while the loser was buried to the neck. The realm wouldn’t let any of the trapped souls actually die, but the wounds from the fight remained apparent. As soon as those fights ended, the Demons set about finding new contestants from among the thousands buried.

Given that the souls below were there for treachery, and they got a clear example of rewards for good behavior constantly, I had no doubt that any route I chose through the area would lead to an alert being raised, even if I could avoid the Demons. I was able to scavenge a few things off of the fallen, but she was enough smaller than me to render any attempt at disguise futile, as if my wings wouldn’t have given me away. I was able to at least salvage snow shoes from her.