There But For The Grace (15 page)

I spent a little more time examining the fields below, calculating my best options for approach, then returned to the guardhouse. I found something to drink that helped with the warming, then settled to meditate, trying to help recover myself and speed up my body’s efforts to heal. It was a risk, since they’d inevitably either notice the missing guards, someone would come up to deliver winnings or collect losings, or the hound packs would come close enough on the back side of the hill to raise an alarm. Despite that risk, I needed the rest and chance to focus my mind, or I wouldn’t reach even the border to this layer, let alone have a chance at escape.

My meditation was brief, but still helped a good deal, clearing the numbness from my thoughts more effectively than the time inside warmed my body. It was obviously meant as a warm shelter, but the chill of the realm was hard to shake off. I was ultimately interrupted by shouts from the hillside. As I woke up, I picked out the voices of two Demons, taunting the former guards about their losses, and coming to collect. I ambushed the arrivals before they could raise an alarm, putting them down more effectively than the trio before, quick and clean.

I suspected that pair would be missed if they weren’t back quickly, so I started down the hill, moving as quickly as I could. Thankfully, attention was on the fights, trusting that those managing the guard stations would call if there were problems. I headed straight for one of the two fighting pits. If I couldn’t get around them, I had to go through them, and during the fights, they were gathered in one place. Two of the six in the area went down quickly, the third I tackled into the pit, battering him to the ice and running him through. Used to stabbing at any escape attempt or other disturbance, perhaps, two of the Demons went straight into attacking me with their simple spears. The third started shouting for help. I tried to get to him to silence him, but the others blocked my way.

Thankfully, their primitive weapons weren’t up to the task, and they soon knew it. The wood splintered against my chest when one got a clean attack in. He didn’t get a second chance before I put my sword through his throat. The other saw the result and tried to run, but I managed to catch him and drag him back, putting my sword through him, before I could get to the screamer. He fought briefly, and ineffectively, before his body was added to the pit as well.

Expecting reinforcements, I braced for further fighting, and looked around. I quickly discovered that no one had paid him any mind. There were plenty of shouts, cheers, calls for help from the captive damned, and so on, that the calls and sounds of the fight hadn’t stood out, and the other fight was apparently engrossing enough to hold attention.

I started moving across the ice again, moving as rapidly as I could while, all around me, damned souls started pulling themselves free of the ice. That was sure to get plenty of attention soon, as were the many calls for help coming from those who were buried to the neck and unable to extract themselves. A few of those who had been buried in the shallower expanses moved to try to help some of the others, but mostly simply made a run for it. I just tried to get as much distance from the fighting pits, the hills, and the guardhouses as I could before anyone realized what was going on and started trying to guess at the cause for the attempted prison break.

While I was on another wide expanse now, ahead, the ground was more uneven again, and in the distance, a ring of cliff face loomed. Beyond it, even at this distance, I would start to make out the distant forms of Nephilim, like the giant who had dragged me into this realm. Dante had assigned them the names of giants from the myths he knew, but in truth, some of the 400’ tall children of the Grigori were literally bound to service, chained to watching posts around this layer if they didn’t volunteer. I needed to account for that as well, and now it was a straight run for the wall, trying to get there ahead of pursuit. If I could get enough height, perhaps make it to a cave in the cliff face some way up, I could at least try to focus on whatever Fallen were among the pursuit groups, and maybe get out of reach of the pack.

The shouts and chaos behind me picked up all too soon. I managed to get to the next hills and out of sight, but I was sure that some of the guards would be checking here soon enough. It wasn’t much longer before I picked up on the sounds of the packs. The screaming picked up soon after. The guards might be willing to just try to drag the damned back to their icy prisons. The hellhounds weren’t nearly so gentle with anything in the way of their hunt. I could feel the influence of the realm gnawing at me again, trying to provoke doubt and make me question the decision to rest, using time the packs spent catching up. I fought it off, in part by reminding myself that if I hadn’t stopped to rest, I wouldn’t have fought as effectively, and wouldn’t be as capable of the pace I was setting across the ice and snow now.

The baying grew louder as I ran, and eventually, without the stinging ice and snow blowing at me, I could see better hints of those pursuing me. Winged figures flying over them told me that the group included Fallen along with the demonic handlers I’d known were involved. There were dozens of hellhounds, at least. Some split off, chasing down damned souls trying to flee, instincts to chase beings they could see running away overcoming their focus on following my scent, but most stayed right after me.

I tried to avoid continually looking back to track their progress, focusing on the cliff face ahead of me and trying to make it with some room to climb. As it got closer, I scanned the reaches, trying to find anywhere I could turn and fight.

I reached the wall and jumped, trying to get as high up the wall as possible to start the climb, with my sights set on a cave higher up. The ice once again resisted the climb, and up above, as I glanced upward, I could see the giant Nephil leaning over, trying to figure out what had led to so many hellhounds coming to the wall.

I nearly made it, before both a handhold and a toehold gave way. The ice here was more brittle than that elsewhere. Just as slippery, the rocks also fell away under my grip. I caught another hold, but it was too late. Hellhounds caught on to my ice-caked wings and a foot—and dragged me down. Digging the blade into the wall, I hung there, kicking at the hound at my foot, freeing myself from that grip, and dashing my good wing against the wall to dislodge the hellhound there. I couldn’t shake the one from my more injured wing, so I started climbing, dragging the extra weight. I had to get out of reach before more hounds caught on.

I pulled myself upward, fighting towards the cave. More arrows hit the stone, two hit my wings and stuck, and one dug into my back, burying itself into a rib. The shot almost dislodged me, but I managed to keep climbing. When the next arrows came in, I’d found a better handhold and twisted, putting the tenacious hound in the way. Another shot grazed my shoulder, leaving a streak of blood before it buried itself in the wall, but three arrows hit the hound. It took more bloody feathers with it, but was dislodged, falling into the pack gathering at the base of the wall. More arrows buried themselves in the wall as I pulled myself over a ledge and into the cave I’d been eyeing, providing cover from the shots.

It was Gadreel, unwelcome sight though he was, that first came to the mouth of the cave, sword at the ready, four of the Grigori with him. I readied myself for a fight, but he remained at the edge of the cave. “Tabbris, I was wondering where you’d gotten off to. And then the packs caught your scent before I figured out exactly where you’d come up from the pits.”

I tensed, watching for signs of his accompaniment readying arrows, or Gadreel lunging. I was tired and wounded, but in the tight quarters, he’d be limited to fighting me alone. “And you just couldn’t have that?”

“Even now,” he agreed. “I drag you out of here, and they’ll claim they did all the work. Insist on a share of the credit, and that the keys go to Lucifer.”

“But you have a plan?” I readied myself, eyes shifting between Gadreel and each member of his company.

“No, no. But you do. You used this trick before, after all, the last time you were cornered. Desperation makes one do suicidal things.”

I realized, too late, what he was doing. Gadreel smited the wall with his sword, launching himself back and out of the cave. I threw myself back against the back wall of the cave as the cliffside collapsed under the unholy might. The front of the cave, where he’d struck, had collapsed instantly, leaving me in darkness. With only instants to act, I pressed against the back wall, wrapped my wings around myself, and raised my sword to protect my head from falling debris as everything collapsed. There were shouts, screams, and monstrous howls from below, and a tremendous cracking and grinding. And then silence.

***

I woke up to the sounds of tremendous grinding and the earth shifting around me. I checked to see what was broken, what was pinned, and what moved. Everything hurt, but I’d found at least a partial recess as all the stone collapsed, and my left arm was in an empty space between rocks, able to move. I started digging and shifting rock as best I could, until I managed to free my other arm, with the sword. When it was free, digging became somewhat easier.

Earth, ice, and stone shifted above me, lightening the debris pinning my legs. Moving chunks of ice and stone aside, I caught sight of a massive hand coming down, digging through the earth. The Nephil stationed at the wall was digging out debris. As I cleared a little bit more of a peephole, I caught sight of Fallen, a couple of them working to clear stone, a couple others directing Demons into doing the same. I caught Gadreel’s voice shouting about finding the keys before reinforcements got there.

The next time the massive hand came down, obscuring the view of most, I forced my way free, willing everything to work well enough to get where I needed to go. It was clumsy, but I managed to catch hold of the chain attached to the giant shackle on the Nephil’s wrist. It moved dirt and stone aside, then came back up as the Nephil straightened up long enough to wipe his brow. For the briefest of moments, I thought that he might catch sight of me, but there was no sign of it. Either he was too intent on his task, simply missed sight of the tiny being, or, just as likely, rebelled against being bound here with the only act of rebellion available, and willingly gave me a ride to the top of the cliffs. If so, I considered it a fitting way to escape the realm of treachery.

I dropped off of the chain onto the top of the cliffs and as quickly as I was able, currently a limping shamble, moved away from the barrier and into the Eighth Circle of Hell.

***

While horrible in its own right, the edge of the Eighth Circle was precisely what I needed right now. The entire level was composed of cliffs and ditches, with vast bridges between them. Without access to the bridges, moving from one part of the circle to another would be difficult, and, in places, possibly impossible. The border between this circle and the Seventh was a truly vast cliff, which made the last look tiny. Much of this circle was overseen by higher orders of Demons, though their vigilance was likely to be uneven.

All of that would have to wait. For now, I was in the deepest recesses of the circle, the place reserved for those whose greatest sins involved counterfeiting, perjury, or taking the identities of others. As blights on society, Hell afflicted the damned souls with all manner of diseases, from plagues to madness. Then, they were left here, untended in the dark, left with only the rest of the untouchables and madmen for company.

With little to worry about for contagion, and the hounds off of my trail, if I could find a hidden recess, I could take more time to assess my injuries, try to refocus myself, and get ready to move on. Gadreel and his cohort would be after me soon, when they figured out that I’d survived and gotten past them, but he’d be thorough, going through all of the rubble first. If there were other cave networks in the cliffs, there was also every chance I’d fled back into the pits somewhere, which he had to account for. He might have ensured that he and his companions were the primary force hunting me, at least in the right area, now, but he’d also gotten rid of one of his best resources for tracking me down. Others would be searching as well, but they wouldn’t have the same leads, and this layer, with all of its climbs and controlled bridges, was a poor place for hellhounds. I couldn’t linger too long, but the environment itself wasn’t a torment so much as an obstacle, and the curse here wouldn’t harm me.

I made my way among the sick, stepping over and around people where I had to. There were no called for aid or alerts raised. These people had taken their curse, and there would be no respite or better conditions. Drawing the attention of the Demons in any way would only make things worse.

I finally found a dark recess and knelt to meditate, trying to focus my energies outward, promoting my body’s regeneration. I received more than a little attention, but none of it particularly noisy, mostly just curious.

With desperation for survival finally left behind for a short time, and a chance to focus, I could feel the realm trying to influence my thoughts again. This was the realm of fraud and malignant lies, so I had to guard my thoughts against subtle falsehoods. Accusations against Gabriel, Michael, Adelaide, and others arose, and I pushed them aside. Thoughts causing me to question my every decision so far were pushed aside even more easily, for now, by simply reminding myself that even with so many forces arrayed against me, I was alive. I focused on that simple truth. I was alive. From there, I was alive, despite the odds so far, and had made progress. I’d escaped from the depths, and out of the deepest of the circles of Hell. I could keep succeeding, one layer at a time. I had to: the keys didn’t belong in this realm. Perhaps I did, and that question could arise another day, but not the keys.

When I arose from my meditations, the very worst of my injuries were somewhat lessened. My wing moved more easily, and I didn’t make every move with a heavy limp. I readjusted what bandages I could, and set out to start the climb. With time and no sign anyone was searching for me too hard, I resolved to avoid the bridges for as long as I could. A number of the damned followed me to the cliff wall, keeping some distance.