2. The Long Way Down

The Long Way Down

Between one blink and the next I go from looking my reflection in the eye, to staring into a pair of wide, terrified ones.

The holy water burns out of me in a blink and I know that the sinner in front of me turns back into a false devil.

Beneath the illusion, they're just people. Sinners waiting for their absolution or demise. I've never understood this annual farce. I don't know what the Devil gains from it, only that we were cursed simply by being born in a city called Eden.

Tonight, no sinner's lips will meet mine.

I can't save them if I want to save Skye.

I can't even save myself.

The holy water only gives me glimpses of the truth as I scan the room, looking for the real Devil.

I find him, dancing with a woman in red who looks up at him like she truly loves him. An angel in gold dances with a woman in blue…

Everyone else is mortal, sinners and saints twirling on a glassy floor over the pit of hell.

I switch partners as often as I can, working my way to the outer edges, hiding my face from both the Devil and the heavenly host when I get too close. But they are, thankfully, too enamored with their partners to notice me.

I see my escape. It waits for me with a dark glow, but I miss it the first time around. My dance partner starts to fight me. She has realized I don't intend to save her and she's desperate to escape hell tonight.

I don't blame her.

As soon as we're close enough again, I shove her away, using the force of the motion to push myself out of the dance before anyone else can try to claim me as their partner.

I stumble up the stairs and escape into the dark hall, praying I wasn't seen.

In the shadows, I press myself flat against the warm stone wall.

Listening, I wait, only long enough to catch my breath. If someone wants to catch me, I'm going to make them work for it.

The Devil's cathedral is vast. I've been told it's a maze of God's making, meant to frustrate him into returning to her.

The tattoo on my arm is supposed to be a map of these dark halls lit with glowing red flame.

The books Sister Norris tried to hide from me had more information on hell than I could have imagined. The damned—sinners who hadn't been kissed and instead were forced to serve a year toiling before they died—came back with tales and the nuns of the convent paid handsomely for those stories. True or not.

I just have to find one of the landmarks to orient myself and then, I can use the lines that don't really look like anything to find my way through this place. I can use them to find the vault where the Devil keeps his halo and trade it for my sister's life.

My dress drags on the floor, color leaching into the smooth stone, leaving a purple trail behind me.

Stumbling to a stop when I see it—the broken statue of Lucifer—I lift my arm and my eyes trace over the lines there.

I use the carved stone to orient myself and then hurry away. The longer I linger, the more I risk being caught.

Sharp left.

Straight down a corridor whose walls are painted with literal flame.

Down a stairway to—

I stop so abruptly I lose a shoe, and I don't collect it before stepping to the stone railing of the balcony I've just reached.

I stand on one foot to keep my bare sole from burning on the black marble beneath me and stare out at the bright spiral that reaches up into the heavens, disappearing through a ring of white amidst the black and red clouds.

That is the only way I will escape this place.

But before I can climb that stairway to heaven, I have to get what I came for.

Desperation drives me.

I slip my foot back into my shoe and hurry along the wide open corridor to the next set of stairs, and then another.

I descend so far I start to worry it will never end… until the steps become uneven, turning into pitted hexagonal columns I have to balance on to get to the bottom.

Those same hexagonal stones make up the floor, scattered with pumice-like pebbles and sharp obsidian.

I have to tread carefully and suddenly wish I had worn combat boots instead of these ballet flats that match my dress.

The first brush of that obsidian slices through the material, shredding it as little holes burn through the bottom of my dress.

I ignore both. What is a little pain in exchange for life?

Ten more steps. Rounding a corner, I see it.

The broken halo that once ringed Lucifer's head. The halo God has long wanted returned to her. It's right there for the taking.

Hesitating, I search the shadows, trying to see if it's guarded, but who would dare try to steal it?

Lurching forward as the ground burns through my shoes, I pull in a sharp and silent gasp. Each step is pain. There is no difference if I move fast or slow. The rocks sizzle and scrape against my skin, cutting and cauterizing the wound at the same time.

By the time I reach the craggy plinth it rests on, glowing and yet so dark all at once, I barely feel my feet anymore.

When I reach for it, my fingers tingle with warmth and I grit my teeth in case it burns. But the moment I touch the halo, I'm jerked backward.

Dark claws pierce me, and I know… I've failed.