Chapter 29
I walked behind the others, lost in thought, staring at the back of Vaetrik’s head.
Even if he had pretended not to notice me all morning, I rested my hand on the hilt of the Siren-made rapier Reiven acquired for me.
Akina and Jin led our pack of foreigners down the winding path of uneven black stones, out of the city and towards the volcano that overlooked Ghrysim Isle.
Aside from Vaetrik, everyone else grouped together in a cloud of nervous, chatty energy.
With each crunching step closer to the smoldering volcano, my stomach tightened with more anxiety.
Reiven tugged my hand away from my weapon, interlacing his fingers with mine.
“You look like a proper Siren warrior. I’m only sorry your own armor and weaponry must be long stolen…
” He nodded at the corset I wore over skin-tight gray leathers.
Matching fingerless gloves covered my hands and arms up to my elbows, and lightweight boots protected my feet from the heat that emanated from the ground.
Reiven told me earlier that morning he had “reclaimed” the armor and rapier for the Sirens by stealing it from the Mourners’ treasure trove of items confiscated from my people during the war.
He tapped at the leather cut low to accentuate my breasts with a wolfish grin. “It’s rather…stylish. Sirens must aim to distract their opponents with their bodies, don’t they?”
“Just say you think it’s sexy and get over it.”
“I think it’s sexy. Definitely. Consider me distracted.
” He laughed, but it was my turn to give him another look over.
He was clad in black armor riddled with veins of glowing red, like the knife stashed in my belt.
His hands were bare save for the ring Ashkade gave him, and the only weapon he carried was a wicked Obsidian sword.
Even though he lacked a crown, he really did give off the aura of a warrior prince.
He whispered, “My first order of business in there is going to be taking care of the pirate, so I may need to split off from you two for a while.”
“We’ll face him together.”
“No. I’m not going to lose either of you.” He squeezed my hand. Something up ahead, where the road widened and smoothed into a gravel path, caught his attention and made him smile.
On either side, maple trees burst from the ground in defiance of the heat and the rocky soil, their seven-pronged leaves as red as blood.
The branches wept low over the path, and as we walked beneath, flashes of gold amongst the leaves caught my eye.
Small metal tubes hung from the branches, clinking softly together like bells in the breeze.
Nostalgia filled Reiven’s eyes as we stopped, and Akina and Jin presented us with strips of paper and thin charcoal sticks to write with.
“Now is the opportunity for you to leave a message for the world if you do not return from the Flames Below,” Akina said. Her voice shook, and her eyes sparkled with tears. It hit me then that she might be walking her own brother to his death, and my heart squeezed.
“It isn’t required,” Jin said carefully.
“But please feel free. Some people leave letters to their loved ones, some prayers, some wishes for the future. We always ensure that the last messages are recorded and passed on to those they are meant for before tying them back to the maples.” He bowed at the waist and held out the writing utensils for us to take if we desired.
The somber demeanor of Reiven’s siblings didn’t help ease my nerves.
It was as if we were part of a funeral march.
Reiven chuckled as he wrote his own letter, wish, or prayer.
“When I was a kid, I used to climb these trees and rip the tubes off.” He shot me a knowing look.
“Don’t worry about Jin and Akina. They’ve been without me for years, and they’ll get through life just the same as they have been.
I’m actually impressed with Jin. He’s grown up.
Look at him, acting all regal and serious. ”
His laughter made my heart sink further into my boots. I wanted to argue with him, that they weren’t going to have to continue life without him, but instead I turned my attention back to the creamy sheet of paper and wrote my own message.
Reiven helped me roll it up until it was small enough to slip into a tube and tie around a branch, joking all the while that I probably peeked at his note when he wasn’t looking.
“Is it a letter for your loved ones?” I asked quietly.
“Nope. It’s a wish for the future.”
Perhaps I shouldn’t have been surprised, but Vaetrik didn’t bother writing anything.
Even Shaddan and Calinia left papers of their own, and Ash took the longest out of all of us writing his.
Once we were moving again, it didn’t take long for us to arrive, and I found myself staring up at the towering volcano.
A wisp of smoke trailed from the top. Akina and Jin led us to stand before a large circle cut into the base.
Peculiar markings were etched in the stone, lines and symbols that formed an indecipherable design.
Jin tapped it with one finger. “Let the gate to Hell be opened for those who have come from afar to challenge.”
The six of us stood in a loose line before the volcano, and none of us flinched as the ground trembled.
The circular stone door slid upwards and out of sight with the grate of rock on rock, leaving a shower of pebbles and dirt in its wake.
Inside there was only darkness. No torches or magical sconces, or even magma to light the way.
Reiven, Vaetrik, and Shaddan were the first brave enough to venture inside, but only so deep as the light of day reached.
The others followed, and I was the last to join, paying close attention to the crunching of the gravel beneath my boots, the wave of blistering air that buffeted my face.
More footsteps crunched on the rock behind us, and I turned to see Akina and Jin bowing to us from outside as the stone slab began to return to its original position.
“I truly hope all of you return alive,” Akina said.
A chill scraped up my back, and the stone slamming into the ground to shut us inside the darkness brought with it a wave of nausea.
It was strange. Even though I was a Siren and could see in the darkness of the Deep…
I couldn't see anything inside, not even my companions.
Quiet also fell over us the moment the door closed. I couldn't even hear them breathe.
I reached beside me for Reiven's hand, but all I found was empty air. “Rei? Ash?”
Nothing.
Loneliness crushed into me without mercy as I stood there in the dark, too apprehensive to walk forward without knowing what was out there in the shadows.
Not even Calinia or Shaddan or Vaetrik's presence remained.
When I finally gathered the courage to walk a bit to the side to find the wall, there was still nothing.
Not even gravel beneath my feet. It was all empty space.
Well, I can’t just stand here. Come on, Zephra. Get moving.
Walking through an oblivion of heat and darkness for hours was enough to make me lose my mind.
No way for me to know if I was going the right direction, or if I was walking in circles.
The further I walked, all I found was more nothing.
Not even the flap of bat wings or a spider dropping into my hair.
My boots on the darkness below me didn’t make a sound.
At some point, I began to hum to myself to break the intolerable silence. My voice reverberated throughout the empty space, echoing back to me, but something was odd about the echo. My heart rate picked up, and I started to run.
“Is someone there?” I shouted.
“Further in.”
It should have been my words repeating themselves. But they distorted as they echoed until they were unrecognizable. I chased after that bizarre phenomenon, calling out and following the direction of the wrathful whispers that came back to me.
A glimmer of azure light welcomed me out of the darkness, and I stumbled into a tunnel, tall as the throne room in the castle.
The walls were a stark white, peppered with thousands of rough crystals that glowed blue, almost giving the place the appearance of underwater light.
Where were all the flames? Was I actually in Hell?
“Ash! Reiven! Calinia!”
“The living come too far.”
Not one voice, not my voice, but many strange voices melding together irregularly into a surreal cacophony.
Female, male, young, old. Timeless. The voices were everything and nothing, bouncing off the cave walls and singing off the crystals as I ran deeper.
They whispered, wondering what a living Siren could be doing there.
The voices grew louder, mocking me and laughing until all went silent, and I slid to a stop before an abnormality in the tunnel.
“Water?” My voice didn’t echo, and the angry whispers didn’t answer.
Before me, the tunnel no longer had a solid rock floor. Instead, a pool of murky water fully encapsulated the ground, with only a thin, zig-zagging stretch of rock crossing it from end to end, just wide enough for me to put one foot in front of the other.
If there was some illusion or trick here, perhaps it would be easiest to simply swim across, and not bother with the potential dangers of the fragile-looking rock bridge.
My puzzled reflection stared back at me in the inky water.
I leaned down to dip my hand in, but the heat rising from the water made me pause.
When I tried to urge it to rise into a wave, it remained as still as death.
Not water.
I tossed a stone into it, and the illusion dissipated for a split second. The pretty blue became scorching, bubbling magma, ready to disintegrate any who fell off the bridge—or who tried to jump in.