Chapter 26
HEL
D own the steps to the dungeon Hel went into the damp darkness.
Torches lit before he approached, chasing the shadows back.
He found Synick right where he’d left him, chained to the floor and bound to the chair.
The bastard lifted his head and managed to smirk, making the rotten muscles tense and bits of crepey, patchy skin twitch. It almost made his stomach turn.
Hel nodded at the guard on shift to watch Synick and tasked with dosing him with katagas serum every six hours. “You may go for now.”
Probably desperate to get fresh air, he didn’t even hesitate to leave out the door. It smelled like shit and piss down here. Hel lit up a civar just to mask the stench.
Synick watched him put the smoke to his mouth longingly. He was practically licking his lips and drooling.
“You’re back,” Synick croaked.
Hel leaned a shoulder against the bars. “Things are getting a bit dicey.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I killed Rogue, his wife, and Pricilla’s heir.
The retaliation will be soon.” He tapped a finger against the cold bars of Synick’s cell and took another inhale.
“Which means you and I are at a crossroads. Do I send you back to the underrealm before they find out you’re alive and get to you or keep you alive so you can help me? I’m leaning more toward killing you.”
“Then do it,” he sneered. “Kill me. What does it matter if I sit in a dark prison here or there?”
“You don’t have to be here. We could find something more…” he glanced around at the terrible conditions, “appealing.” He snapped his fingers and a civar appeared on Synick’s lap. The chain clinked as he grabbed it and put it to the good side of his mouth.
“What do you want?”
“You know what I want. Give me the Sword of Truth, and I’ll give you what they never offered. Your freedom. Along with riches. I’m sure we could even find you a nice castle across the seas.”
A low laugh rumbled out of Synick’s throat. “You think I haven’t been offered the world for that thing?”
“Not by your favorite pupil.” With a whisper of magic, the civar lit for Synick and he breathed it in deeply, closing his eyes.
“War was always my favorite.”
Hel laughed and shook his head. “Oh, so it’s jokes now. He has too many morals for you to favor him.”
“Give me your wife and it’s a deal.”
Hel slid his nail against one of the bars. “That’s the thing that’s always been wrong with you, and why she never wanted you. You treat the fairer sex like objects. I can’t give her away. She has a mind and will of her own. And even if I could, I’d rather cut my own throat than give her to you.”
“Nothing will convince me to give up the weapon. You’re wasting your breath but thank you for the civar. It’s been a very long time since I had one.”
“I believe you.” Hel opened the cell door and stepped inside, tossing his civar to the ground. Opening his suit coat, he reached in and pulled out a twelve-inch dagger, silver with obsidian folded into the handle. “Goodbye, Synick.”
“Hel, wait! Wait, don’t send me back there. I know what I did was wrong. I learned my lesson, trust me. I’m not going to touch Katana or Valeen again.”
“I know you won’t.” There were no more words to be minced. Synick was too much of a liability to keep around if he wasn’t going to be useful. He wiggled like a worm in the chair, growing more frantic with each of Hel’s steps. The blade’s point aimed at Synick’s heart.
“I know where your immortality is!”
It was more likely that it was a lie to save his skin but on the off chance that it wasn’t… He rested the blade against Synick’s chest but didn’t push. “Where?”
“The demons deal in secrets.” The chains holding his hands rattled as he trembled. “And when people die, they give useful secrets for favors.”
Hel narrowed his eyes and slowly twisted the blade, putting more pressure behind it. “Go on.”
“There was talk of the council giving your immortality to someone.”
“What does that mean?”
“They used magic to put your immortality inside someone else, to make them stronger and to keep it safe.”
Hel growled at the thought. “Just mine?”
“All three.”
He eased the blade off Synick’s chest. Was it possible for his immortality to be given to another?
He assumed it was a part of him, and could only be restored to him, but the note in Rogue’s pocket had said their immortality wasn’t hidden.
He took that to mean their immortality was out in plain sight or being worn.
Originally, the light essence was funneled into a small bottle made of manalus crystal.
He’d watched Valeen’s stripped from her. “You’re lying.”
“No.” He slowly shook his head.
“It’s not even possible. My immortality is a part of me, a part of my soul.”
“It is possible, Hel. In my lifetime we only stripped one other of his immortality.”
“Who?”
“His mother was half-siren half-goddess. His father was a full god. Offspring with that ratio can be mortal or immortal. He happened to be immortal. His immortality was transferred into another. There was a tournament. The champion won it. It was long before your time, but you must have been taught about it in your lessons.”
A cold sweat broke out across Hel’s body. An itch started at the back of his mind. He did vaguely remember learning about a tournament to become a god. If his own, if Val’s had been placed into another, then how would they get it back? “Who are the three rumored to have our immortality?”
“Come now, Hel. You’re intelligent. If you were on the council and wanted to give immortality to three someones, who would they be?” Synick asked.
Someone he loved. A child. A lover. If memory served, the tournament they held long ago was for those the council nominated; not just anyone could participate.
Hel felt the blood drain from his face. Pricilla’s heir. He’d used Soulender to cut off his head. Pricilla hadn’t attacked him when he shoved her son’s head on a pike. Had he destroyed his own immortality or Valeen’s or Thane’s? Fuck , had she sacrificed her own child and checkmated him?
There was the potential for taking someone else’s but he didn’t want someone else’s immortal strength. He wanted his own. It was a part of him. Anything different would feel wrong.
“Give me names,” Hel snarled.
“I said I knew where they were. By that I meant inside someone else. I don’t know who.” The decaying side of his face twitched as something skittered inside it.
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
“When have I ever given you a completed puzzle? I give you pieces. That’s the way it’s always been. I gave you Rogue and you killed him. I gave you this. It’s up to you to find out more.”
There was more he knew. As much as Hel wanted to drive his dagger through the fucking bastard, he might need him.
When he was young, Synick intimidated him, scared him.
There had been a small measure of respect for the primordial, even if he hated him.
Now looking at his sickly, dirty state, Hel wondered what there ever was to be afraid of.
Though caged beasts were dangerous when trapped and cornered.
He turned on his heel and left the cell, slamming it closed without ever touching it.
He faced his former mentor; the sad state of someone he once thought was untouchable reminded him of his own vulnerability.
Anyone could be a step away from freedom to being chained in the dark like an unwanted animal.
“I want food, Hel. I want a bed and a fire. It’s colder than the winter goddess’s tits down here. I’ve given you two valuable pieces of information. You owe me.”
With a snap of Hel’s fingers, a bed made of straw and covered with burlap appeared. “A bed and a blanket for two pieces of information. But I don’t owe you anything. It shows my utter benevolence just keeping you alive. After what you did to my wife and her sister, you owe an eternity of favors.”
After making certain the lock was secure, and the guard waiting went back to his position, Hel found a bench outside.
He laid on his back and stared up at the white puffy clouds, letting the sun bathe across his face.
He should have seen this coming. Should have known they’d give the most precious gift of all, becoming a god, to others. “Fuck, I need a drink.”
“Me too. We could go to Nerium Oleander and meet dear sweet Evalyn.”
Gods, why does the Maker insist on torturing me?
Hel took in a slow controlled breath before he sat up and faced the dragon wench he wanted dead.
Varlett stood with her arms crossed, one hip popped out.
No horns or talons out today. Which only made him more suspicious of her.
And was she wearing… face powder? The pink cheeks weren’t usual.
Was she trying to make herself look less threatening?
He deadpanned, waiting for her to explain her unwanted presence.
“No?” she dropped her hands to her sides. “It will be fun. We can drink until we forget all the terrible things we’ve done.”
He continued staring. Hopefully making her uncomfortable.
He might growl and hiss if he thought it would make her go away.
Just looking at her made him want to set fire to something, preferably her.
Her hair in bright orange flames, her skin melting away, it would be glorious…
if a dragon could burn. “There isn’t enough alcohol in all the realms to make me forget what you did.
I could be passed out, nearly dead, and I’d still fucking remember. ”
She huffed as if he was being absurd. “And you’re so perfect? You are without a blemish on your record? We’ve all done terrible things. Even your precious Valeen.”
“Name one thing that Valeen has done that’s even comparable to you?”
“She stole Soulender and started the war of the realms.”