9 A RARE BIRD #2
She peered into the gloom, trying to see the structure better.
The castle was black stone and so lifeless, it seemed to suck what little color surrounded it into its perpetual gloom.
The towers leaned every which way and seemed to ooze misery and despair.
The town encircling it could barely be called as such, no more than a crumbling cluster of ramshackle structures.
The castle spires were so sharp, they were like spears, and indeed, as they approached, she could just distinguish shapes stacked along them, and she realized they were demons impaled through their midsections, left to rot in the sky. They wouldn’t die like that either, which was somehow worse.
Just as she began to get chills from the foreboding surrounding the lair like a fog, Raum banked sharply and steered them back toward the foothills and the blood-red river.
They flew a short ways before he took a steep dive, and she braced herself for impact, closing her eyes instinctively, so she missed where exactly they landed.
He released one foot from around her in preparation, and his great feathered body made a soft whump as it landed, but she wasn’t jostled much. She opened her eyes as he set her down, and they widened in surprise.
They stood on the edge of a rocky incline outside a small dwelling built into the side of the mountain, like a wall covering the mouth of a cave.
Scrambling to her feet, she looked down and saw the red river running below, bordered by barren trees and banks of white stones.
She had a feeling those stones were actually bones, polished smooth by erosion.
Besides that, the view was … nice.
If not for the fact that they were in Hell and everything in their surroundings reminded her of that, she might have enjoyed herself. It was quite chilling and a little bit terrible, but compared to that castle, it was quaint and homey.
“What is this place?” she asked the giant feathered demon beside her.
He shifted back to human form in a graceful motion, wings folding and vanishing, feathers disappearing, limbs morphing back to human shape.
She was momentarily transfixed by the sight and forgot what she’d asked until he said, “Somewhere to stash loot.”
She blinked in question.
Being Raum, he offered no further explanation, turning and heading over to the front door of the cave house. It was arched at the top and reinforced with spiked flat bars of steel. Similar bars were placed over the two windows on either side of the door.
A ward was painted on the wood in what she assumed was old blood, darkened to a near black with time. The magic would have prevented it from disintegration.
Shifting his hand as he’d done before, Raum used a claw to slice his finger and then pressed it to the middle of the design. The minute it touched the wood, the blood flakes simply blew off and dissolved into dust.
“You haven’t been here in a long time,” she guessed.
Without responding, he opened the door and went inside while she hesitated on the threshold.
The sound of him choking violently startled her, and she rushed inside without a second thought only to find him standing unharmed, fanning the air.
She immediately began choking as well. The dust was so thick, she could taste it, and a smell like rotten blood permeated everything. “What died in here?”
They backed outside to the fresh air—calling the air in Hell “fresh” was a true testament to just how stale it was inside.
“Nothing,” Raum said. “No one’s been here in two hundred years.”
“So what’s the awful smell?”
He shrugged. “That’s just what dust smells like in Hell.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Of course it is. Because it’s not enough to have blood rivers and a blood sky. We need blood dust too.”
To her surprise, he laughed.
The change in his features was striking. His cheeks crinkled, and smile lines appeared at the corners of his eyes.
She blinked, and the expression was gone. He went back inside, holding his hoodie over his nose as he opened the two windows.
Unwilling to endure the smell again, she found a boulder near the front door and took a seat. Surveying the miserable valley that was somehow beautiful, she tried to plan and found she had no idea what to do.
She was completely dependent on Raum. Her strength was dampened in Hell while his was increased.
Yes, she’d seen Murmur’s castle, but she had no idea how to get there now that they were on the ground, and she knew if she took to the sky, she would stand out like a sore thumb. A sparkling, angelic thumb.
This was why she’d made this bargain. This was why she had chosen Raum. Not because of his captivating eyes or mysterious allure, but because he was known for his skills of thievery and was the perfect accomplice.
He was the lone wolf. The quiet one. The silent protector. His even temper ensured he would think rationally and refrain from impulsive fits of violence.
And she’d been right. Everything had, thus far, gone according to plan.
She ought to feel excited. Determined. But instead, the deceit was eating a hole in her stomach. She may have sparkled like an angel, but what she’d done to get here made her feel no better than the demons eviscerating each other on that battlefield.
“I cleaned up a bit. It’s better.”
She twisted on the rock to find Raum standing in the doorway.
She stood. “Okay. Thank you.”
He disappeared, so she followed him, coming up short when she stepped over the threshold. The smell was still there, but it was vastly improved and overpowered by a sweet, smoky scent much like incense.
There was a small fire burning in a hearth she hadn’t seen before.
A stash of mystery herbs smoked on a metal plate on a grate over top—the source of the improved scent.
Across from the hearth, a pile of furs was thrown over a narrow bed, ropes knotted around a wooden frame to serve as a mattress.
Below one of the front windows, there was a small table and two chairs.
Behind everything, at the back of the cave … was a huge pile of gold.
Her eyes widened, and she realized Raum had not in any way been exaggerating when he called the dwelling “somewhere to stash loot.” For that appeared to be exactly what it was.
“Where did you get all this?” she asked in awe, approaching the pile. It was stacked to the ceiling. Coins, goblets, plates, weapons, jewelry, crowns—if one could name it, it was here.
“I stole it,” he replied simply.
“From whom?”
“Everyone.”
She turned around with a frown, trying to understand.
For once, he elaborated without prompting. “I used to start battles with other demons if I heard they had good shit. Then I stole it and stashed it. Sometimes I’d camp out for a couple days to guard it if I thought they’d come after me. That’s why I built the bed.”
She surveyed the pile with renewed awe. “You must have fought in a great many battles to have amassed this much bounty.”
He shrugged. “This is one of the smaller stashes.”
“Wait—There’s more?”
He nodded.
“How much more?”
Another shrug. “I have a couple dozen more spots like this. I hid some so well, I forgot where they were. And I had a lot more shit when I still had my territory. I lost it all when we defected.” His jaw clenched like he didn’t like that.
He was … a hoarder.
A giant golden-eyed demon-crow hoarder.
She squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again. Okay. That’s fine. Humans came in many varieties, so why not demons? She imagined that his life had been very unstable, and she couldn’t imagine the trauma a demon amassed after thousands of years in Hell, but it had to be astronomical.
A compulsive urge like hoarding treasure was probably an outlet of sorts—a fixation with possession in a place where one could lose everything in a moment—and far be it for her to judge him for that.
Sunshine had plenty of her own baggage, and she knew what it felt like to feel singled out. To be looked at sidelong. To be the object of pitied whispers and stares. To hear uncomfortable silence fall whenever anyone accidentally brought up the past.
She spun back around with a smile, determined not to let Raum glimpse her sympathy. It didn’t take much to figure out he would detest such sentiment.
“This will make an excellent base,” she declared, turning her back on the treasure horde. She went to the table, unfastened her cloak, and draped it over the back of a chair. “What are our next steps?”
He narrowed his eyes with that distrustful look he often got. “You stay here while I fly to the edge of Murmur’s territory. I need to figure out what we’re dealing with.”
“How to breach the wards, you mean?”
He nodded.
“Can you carry me with you like you did to get here?”
“My demon form’s recognizable. If I go in crow form, it’s safer.”
She’d thought as much herself as they flew here, but that didn’t mean she liked the idea of being left alone.
“I’ll put the ward up again when I go,” he said like he knew her thoughts. “No one can get in.”
She didn’t like that he read her so easily. “I am capable of defending myself.”
“You’re still an angel in Hell. That’s why you blackmailed me in the first place, right?”
Their stares locked as the reminder of what she was holding over his head hung between them. No matter what happened, no matter what adventure they undertook to procure the book … they would never be true allies.
“You’re right,” she said. “I will stay here for that part of the task, but only that. My statement earlier stands. I must be involved.”
“Suit yourself.” He strode toward the door. “Need anything before I go?”
“You’re leaving now?”
“What else would I do?”
“We just got here. Don’t you want to rest?”
He glanced at the single bed and then back at her, and his brow lifted. “No.”
And seeing as neither of them required food or water to survive, if he wasn’t tired, there really was no need to wait, was there?
“Okay,” she said, unsure why she was reluctant for him to go.
He opened the door.
She lifted her hand in a feeble wave.
He stepped outside without returning the gesture, but before disappearing completely, his head popped back through the door frame. “If I don’t come back in twelve hours, take a hellgate back to Earth.”
“But—”
“Remember, our agreement still holds if I’m dead or compromised.”
She managed a nod.
“And tell my brothers not to come for me.”
“But—”
“Just write a note and slip it in the mailbox or some shit. They won’t know who you are.”
“But—”
“Just say you’ll do it,” he snapped.
“Yes. I’ll do it.”
The door slammed.
Alone, Sunshine sat heavily on the edge of the bed, nerves churning her stomach. This was her first time in Hell since the incident, and the past she’d worked so hard to bury suddenly seemed too close. She definitely didn’t like Raum being out there alone either.
Think of the task. The task had to come first. Her goal, her restitution, had to be her primary objective.
Everything else was secondary.