Chapter 21
XXI.
We both jump as we enter the lot and the doors clang shut behind us.
Here we go again.
“Greed?” Nate asks. “Like billionaires and stuff? This should be easy, then. They’re not exactly known for violence. They’re more pay-someone-to-do-your-dirty-work kinda people.”
“Humans desire more than money, Nate.” My toes squelch in my boots as we leave the door, and I look down at my red-stained legs and grimace. Well, that’s certainly a look. I reach for my cape to cover my current fashion disaster and encounter only my bare shoulders.
Right, my favorite cape is at the bottom of Lake Sanguis now.
Fan-freaking-tastic.
Wrapping my arms around me, I clutch my waist, mimicking the way the fabric enveloped me like a velvet embrace.
The lot is hidden from view by a tunnel of dark trees, bent over our heads and blocking out the suns. The shade is a nice break from the heat. I tilt my chin up and close my eyes at the familiar darkness before straightening my shoulders and staring ahead.
Nate swipes his toe over the mud at our feet. “So, what kind of people are here?”
We start through the tunnel, and I scan around us for signs of life—well, death—and tighten my arms around myself. At least there won’t be mirrors here. Just ravenous shadelings who’ve been alone for centuries.
“Greed is about wanting more than you already have,” I say. “Never having enough.”
“Isn’t that everyone?” he asks. “I can’t think of anyone who wouldn’t want a little more than they already have.”
“True, but just wanting more isn’t enough to get you sent here.
It’s doing malicious things to get it. Lying, stealing, purposely harming others.
” I drop my hand to the handle of my sword as we continue through the tunnel, my muscles tensing.
“Make no mistake. The shadelings here are more deprived than any others in Hell. Stripped of everything, they’ll want what we have. ”
He scans his belt and spreads his arms. “All I have are a couple knives and this uniform.”
I drum my free hand on my thigh, my ears pricked for any movement. “That’s enough. Whatever you see here, don’t touch or take anything, no matter how appealing. We’re going to be tempted with all sorts of things.”
We duck through the trees and emerge on a beach. Nate lets out a low whistle. Where Lot Eleven was all cramped spaces and tight corners, Lot Eight is a vast expanse of land.
Crystallized sand’s been replaced by mud that squishes beneath our boots.
It’s met at the shore by the same bloody water we’d almost drowned in, and I turn away with a groan.
The forest isn’t much more comforting. Instead of palm trees that stretch into the sky, the island is covered in stumps of rotting wood, flies buzzing around the roots.
“I can’t get over how different every lot is. This is nothing like mine.” Nate pinches his nose. “And what’s that smell?”
“Some of it’s mud, and some of it’s them.” I indicate the thousands of shadelings sprawled on the ground, moaning. Many of their bodies lie partially buried in the dirt. The mud is a puzzle path of random body parts.
“It’s like a zombie movie.” His eyes widen as he surveys the beach. “Are they…um…naked?”
My eyes water as the stench of rotting flesh surges up my nose. I hold my breath, battling the urge to gag. “I told you, they’ve been stripped of everything.”
Nate shadows his eyes with his hand. “I don’t see any souldiers. Lemme guess. We’re in another lot demons don’t like.”
I shrug. “Father knew he could only employ so many. There are quite a few lots that are self-sufficient. Again, that’s helpful for us. There’s a raised bridge on the other side of the lot that will take us to the shore. We just need to pass…them.”
A shadeling looks up from their mud hole when I point in their direction. Their eyes grow wide as they see us, and they let out a grunt before dragging themself forward with their arms.
I shudder, and Nate gags.
“Okay, that’s disturbing,” he says. “I think I preferred the mirrors.”
“Easy for you to say,” I say through the hand clapped over my nose. “You only had to deal with your own reflection.”
“Hey, I also had to cut you open and remove an evil piece of glass.”
“Right,” I mutter, “I’m sure that was way worse for you than it was for me.”
“I mean, it wasn’t pleasant.” He gags again as we continue through the bodies. “But it was better than this.”
The shadelings moan and roll over as we pass. Dirt-caked hands claw at the hem of my dress, pull at the laces of my boots, and skim my sword.
I jump as one grabs my ankle and I kick them in the face. “Get off.”
They squeal but maintain their grip. My boot slips down my leg.
“I said get off.” I draw my sword and strike down. The shadeling catches the blade and tugs. Their eyes bulge as they spot the silver handle.
A second shadeling shrieks and grabs for the weapon, followed by a third, who jumps on my back. I buck in an attempt to throw them off, but they bury their sharp fingernails into my flesh, and I scream.
Nate’s on his knees, his back to me, digging through the mud.
What the here is more fascinating than me being attacked?
I kick mud at him with my free leg to get his attention. He doesn’t budge. I seethe, biting back a cry as the shadeling’s nails reopen the almost-healed cut on my shoulder.
“Nate!” I yell. “Help me.” Gritting my teeth, I dig my heels into the dirt, my palms sweating and threatening to slip off the hilt of the sword.
I cry out and wriggle my body, trying to dislodge the clinging appendages. The weight on my ankle lessens as one of the shadelings screeches and drops, collapsing motionless to the ground. Nate stands behind them, baton raised.
“About freaking time.” I resume my sword tug-of-war with the second shadeling. “Get them off me.”
Nate peers down at the body of the one he hit and nudges their unmoving form with his toe. “I hope I didn’t kill them.”
“They’re already dead, remember?” I growl through my teeth as my boots slip in the mud. “Hurry, Nate.”
He slams the baton down on the head of the shadeling piggybacking me, and they fall to the ground.
I fly backward as the weight disappears, and my blade slices through the hands of the last shadeling.
They release the sword with a yelp, whimpering and clutching their palm, before slinking behind a tree stump.
Mud seeps through the butt of my dress, and I groan.
Perfect.
I attempt to push myself up but slip and land back in the dirt with a squishing sound.
“Need a hand?” Nate stretches out his arm.
I grit my teeth but take it, and he hauls me to my feet, his mouth struggling to remain in a straight line.
My cheeks blaze with a heat that rushes from my neck “What are you laughing at?”
“I’m not. Mud’s a good look for you, Dev. You have a bit… Hang on…” He wipes my cheek with his sleeve before I shove him away.
“You shouldn’t take so much pleasure from this.” I stomp ahead, swinging at any shadeling who dares to look my way. “They almost got my sword.”
“Don’t be like that.” Nate jogs to my side. “People pay a lot of money for mud treatments on Earth. In fact, you can use this to pay for it.”
He flicks something gold into the air, and I catch it. It’s a coin, shimmering, with a smiling skull and crossbones on the front. I close my fist around it, then hurl it across the beach. It explodes into a puff of smoke before it reaches the ground. Nate gasps.
“Was that what you were digging for while I was being attacked? I warned you about this place. It’ll try to tempt you. But like the mirrors, it’s all an illusion.”
He stares at the space where the coin disintegrated and nods. “Got it. Huh, maybe this place affects me but not you. Like, the opposite of the mirrors. You knew that coin was fake, but it looked and felt real enough to me.”
I open my mouth to reply when a rustling behind him catches my eye. My mud-caked fingers wrap around the hilt of my sword. “What was that?”
“I don’t hear anything.”
“Over there.” There’s a flash of black as something dashes behind a tree. I only catch a glimpse, but it’s enough to hitch my breath.
I know that hair, that skin. I’ve seen them in mirrors my entire life. And, most recently, in photographs I transformed to ash.
I take a shuddering step toward the figure.
“Mom?”