Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

I look at Anarchy and Lucian and my panther brothers.

They trust me to lead them, but this decision can't be mine alone.

Anarchy is closest to me, and the way she has edged in toward me ever since Emil stepped in behind me tells me she's ready to shift into her panther form and take him the fuck out.

She hisses at him, baring her teeth and revealing her two pointy canines. They aren't as long or as prominent as a vampire's fangs, but they secrete a substance that can knock people unconscious.

I find myself wondering if it would work on the keeper.

I file that possibility away in case I need it.

"I'd rather take my chances with the snowstorm," she hisses. "Fuck your enemies, Darkness. Let's get out of here."

Around me, my pack is nodding.

Jonah is the only one shaking his head, and it's with an intensity that alarms me.

"That isn't any ordinary snowstorm." He shudders as he points at it. "Hell is the coldest place on Earth and that is a shield of magic that forms its first line of defense from any living creature who tries to get inside."

"Who would want to come here?" I ask, truly baffled. After all, as Halle said, most creatures spend their lives trying to avoid this place.

"Well, nobody, of course," Jonah says, the fire across his chest fading and shadows forming in his eyes. "But there are those who have lost loved ones to the darkness and wish to save their souls."

Fuck me.

"Also, I should point out that many battles have already been fought here and lost." He gestures to the ground and the walls around us. "Black doesn't show the blood."

Behind him, the hounds give me broad grins.

Halle merely wears a prim expression, as if it's all part of her job.

"You've been here before," I say to Jonah.

"Not happily," he replies. "In case you haven't guessed, we're in the middle of Antarctica."

He visibly shudders again. But of course, any freezing-cold place would be torturous to a fire jotunn like Jonah.

He continues. "Even if you could get through the shield without a near-instant magical escort off this continent, you'll freeze to death in the snow."

Fuck. Fuck me.

Of all the members of my pack, Lucian is the quietest right now. Not that he has the ability to express himself in snarls and growls like the panther-elves can. He has remained on the other side of Anarchy and is closest to Jonah.

"You need answers, Veda," Lucian says, his focus falling to the book. "I couldn't look at that book without experiencing excruciating pain when I first saw it, and now… nothing. You need answers before you can move forward."

I meet his golden eyes.

It took a lot for me to trust him. I didn't at first. He didn't trust me, either.

Then he declared that the chances of dying at my side were way higher than anywhere else, so at my side was where he'd like to stay.

I took him at his word and he hasn't betrayed me since.

Riot chooses that moment to speak up from my other side. His voice is solemn, as is his way. "A path forward is impossible to discern without truth."

Where before Rumble and Strife were both indicating they wanted to leave, now they give me firm nods.

"We're here for you no matter what you decide," Rumble says.

"Besides," Strife adds, a little hint of mischievousness returning to his expression. "I'd like to see what hell has to offer."

He tips his chin at the hounds.

One of the hounds is eyeing Strife a little more intently than the others are, a curious gleam in his fiery eyes.

My eyebrows arch. "Oh?"

Strife shrugs. "Hell could be fun."

A little of the heaviness lifts from my shoulders when the others shrug and even Anarchy, who was most vocal against staying, seems to relax.

"We're headed here eventually, anyway," she says, one corner of her mouth twitching upward. "We may as well get a tour in advance."

I can practically read her mind: she will want to find out all of hell's vulnerabilities and weaknesses in case that comes in handy for future purposes.

"Okay, then," I whisper.

But at Halle's sudden, gleaming grin, I hold up a finger. "We're only staying until I have truthful answers. And only with one guarantee."

Her smile fades. "What guarantee?"

"We're free to leave whenever we want." I step away from the safety of my pack to advance on her, drawing level with Jonah. "No traps."

Halle folds her arms across her chest and tips up her chin. "Don't insult me."

It's my turn to smile and I let my canine teeth sharpen in the process. "Dearest Hel, be prepared to be insulted many times."

"Fine." She huffs. "No traps. No cages. No tricks. You're all free to leave whenever you like."

Her focus slides past me and farther to my left.

"Even the keeper." Her eyes narrow for a moment before she spins away from me, muttering to herself. "What a face for him to claim as his own."

I glance back again, surprised to find the keeper now leaning up against the tunnel wall on the left side. He has struck a seemingly nonchalant pose, but his non-threatening demeanor doesn't make a difference to my instinctive reaction.

What is it about that face that's so startling?

Another question for which I need an answer.

"Come. Quickly now." Halle waves us toward the depths of the tunnel ahead of us while the hounds step clear of the path.

It looks like they intend to bring up the rear when they head in twos to the side of the tunnel and wait there.

I hurry back to retrieve the book, scooping it into my arms while my pack rapidly fans out around me again.

Without speaking, they seem to know exactly where they want to be. Anarchy and Lucian stand in front of me while Rumble and Strife cover my back. Riot flanks my left side while Jonah resumes his position on my right.

"You, too, keeper," Halle calls back. "Don't fall behind."

Emil lifts himself off the wall, remaining like a shadow behind me while the hounds follow behind him.

The path has a very gentle decline that tells me we're heading slowly downward.

Halle mentioned something about ‘rings', and I have the sense that the path curves slightly, such that we could be traveling down in some sort of extremely wide spiral.

Halle glides ahead of us, the outline of her crimson dress merging with a growing amber light that tinges the air as we descend into the Underworld.

It's surprisingly quiet, other than the soft, crackling sounds of firebrands that rest against the walls farther along the path.

I suppose I expected screaming. Certainly sounds of pain. The clank of metal. The crack of whips.

There is none of that.

What's more, the whole place smells oddly sweet and homey.

I lift my nose, inhaling deeply, aware that the dark elves are doing the same, their noses shifting momentarily into panther form.

Halle seems to have eyes in the back of her head, or maybe she simply heard our deep inhales because she drops back a little to walk on my left.

"It smells like home, yes?" she asks. "A final reminder to those who come here of what has been lost. Cruel, I know. But that is hell."

"Cruel?" I shrug. "Not to those who never had a home."

There were a few moments in time when I called the apartment in New York ‘home', but that was an illusion. Before it, I only had my cell.

Halle flinches, but I ignore her reaction. It may have sounded harsh, but it's the truth.

"It smells like a treat," Anarchy says from in front of me, licking her lips as she throws a dangerous grin at Halle. "Dessert, perhaps."

I'm honestly not sure if Anarchy's referring to the scent in the air or to the likelihood that she'd like to sink her teeth into Halle.

The goddess looks a little thrown.

Regardless, I can see how the environment around us is designed to create an illusion of safety. Warm light. Nice smells. Peaceful.

If someone likes that sort of thing.

I find myself squinting every time we pass one of the firebrands on the wall.

My eyes are better able to handle bright lights these days, but the years I spent living in darkness took a serious toll on my ability to handle both sunlight and loud noises.

I suppose from that point of view, I can't resent the quiet.

As we progress farther along the tunnel, doorways appear within the walls. The doors within are all closed, and each is made of what looks like the same black stone as the rest of the tunnel. They're so shrouded in darkness that I might have missed them if not for my sensitive eyesight.

Along the way, Emil is also quiet. I find myself missing his presence at my side—and then chastising myself for feeling that way.

Damn him.

Finally, Halle stops at a large door on our left.

It looks like every other door we passed.

"Veda, you will need to place your palm on the groove in the center of this door," Halle says, gesturing at it.

I eye the goddess with suspicion as I approach the door and my pack fans out once more—this time to position themselves between me and the hounds.

I expand my senses as I step nearer to the stone.

Still, all remains quiet. But my awareness of deception increases. It doesn't feel as if the space around me is an illusion, but it certainly feels manipulative, as if the sensory input is deliberately calibrated to elicit a desired response.

In my case, a sense of calm.

I hesitate, my palm hovering over the door's surface, as I make out the indentation in it.

Weirdly, exactly the size of my hand with my claws extended.

Halle must catch me eyeing the claw extension on the indentation because she says, "Claws, too, please."

Her politeness sets me on edge.

But once again, I have few choices.

I extend my claws and press my palm to the door. My hand fit perfectly within the grooves.

My eyes narrow when nothing happens. "Is that it?"

Halle's forehead puckers. "Well… normally, it opens right away, so I don't understand?—"

"Wrong hand." Emil's baritone breaks the expectant silence behind me. "Veda needs to use her left."

"Her left?" Halle stiffens again.

"That's the hand that ripped the book to shreds."

Halle's forehead creases. "Oh."

I don't wait for her to ask.

I quickly switch hands, raising my left. The moment I extend it toward the door, the indentation changes shape.

Once again, there are grooves for my claws, but the thumb is now on the other side.

I slap my left hand to the stone, at which the door immediately opens.