Two Souls Worth Saving
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Orán
It’s been over an hour since Eridessa left me in the cell.
The woman—Lila—called out her hellos at first, trying to draw me into conversation, but I’d been unable to answer.
My mouth felt sealed shut. My emotions have never been more chaotic.
These feelings for this complicated woman rose faster than I could reconcile, and in a single stroke, she also leveled me with her declaration of intent—one that stands in direct opposition to my mission on this plane.
In some ways, I understand her.
Her resentment is not misplaced. Her desire to see her kind endure—my own race included, however tangled that truth may be—is an honorable instinct. One I share.
But these are not souls with clean slates.
They may be reborn, yes, but they carry histories etched into their essence. They have been weighed before. They have failed before. These are not untested spirits being offered a first chance.
They are murderers. Violators. Those who preyed upon the weak. Some harmed children. Some dismantled lives through fraud or violence. Even the most unblemished among them have, at one time or another, taken advantage of another’s desperation—and they served their time in Hell for those deeds.
That does not mean redemption is impossible.
It means redemption must be earned as this world is meeting its end.
Other realms are waiting to be shaped. New races to shepherd into existence.
Heaven itself to protect. God may yet choose to remake this world, but that decision rests with Him alone.
The power contained here is too volatile to risk.
If it falls into Lucifer’s hands, it will be the ruin of all things.
Eridessa does not understand that.
Nor could I expect her to—not with the fragments of knowledge she’s been given, not with such a short lifetime behind her.
And yet… I cannot dismiss her perspective entirely.
She sees faces, not soul histories.
She sees survivors, not equations.
I sit with these thoughts through the night and most of the following day, until they settle into something like resignation.
This was always beyond me.
Beyond her.
The covenant stands. Souls from Hell will be granted their final chance. The balance will be tested. If God prevails, He will determine the fate of this world. If Lucifer does, enough power will be siphoned away to ensure he—and the power contained here—pose no threat to Heaven.
If he reigns, he will reign here for a term of a thousand years.
King of a diminished realm.
An impotent one, much as he is in Hell.
Which is precisely what he bargained for.
“Horseman?”
Lila’s lilting voice cuts through my thoughts.
“Are you still stewing, or are you finally up to talking today?”
I remain silent.
She sighs loudly, dramatically. “Because I’ve put this new puzzle Eri gave me together eight times now, and I’m officially bored out of my skull.
Honestly, anything you say would be more exciting than watching me fail to find the same missing corner piece again.
I think I dropped it into the vent by the toilet—or maybe the toilet itself—because I’ve searched this cell a thousand times and haven’t been able to find it. ”
She pauses.
“We could talk about nothing at all. Or anything, really. I’m just super bored, and having another person to finally talk to would be really nice.
I mean, don’t get me wrong, Eri is great, but she leaves me alone quite a lot and doesn’t always have time to chat when she’s here.
Although I do like it when she props the doors open and talks to me while she works. ”
I shake my head, trying to come to grips with the reality that Eridessa is keeping a human prisoner.
How could she do such a thing?
Experimenting on insects and animals is one thing. Playing God with another human is something else entirely.
“How about we start with something simple,” Lila continues. “How was your meal? Or we could vent about the fact that Eri has some weird personal vendetta against salt. Seriously, whatever she brings me could use at least twice as much. Are you a salt man or a pepper guy?”
There’s the rustle of cloth, then the soft padding of footsteps across the stone floor of her cell.
“Gods almighty, my back is killing me,” she mutters. Her voice pitches upward. “Is your bed soft? Mine is… well, sorta. But apparently my back hates it just the same.”
A long silence stretches between us.
“What do you say? Can I at least get a hello back? Anything?”
She exhales in a long-drawn-out sigh.
“Look, I don’t know if you’re just the strong, silent type or if you think I’m here to steal your divine secrets, but I promise I won’t. I barely have the energy to get out of bed these days, let alone overthrow Heaven.”
I’m sitting on the edge of my bed, which I haven’t slept in, elbows braced on my thighs, fingers interwoven between my knees. I’ve been staring at the floor for hours, and even my immortal bones have gone stiff.
I can’t see Lila from here, but the soft padding of footsteps resumes as though she’s pacing.
“Fine. Be Mr. Broody. You’re Mr. All-powerful, and suddenly, you find yourself locked up.
I get it.” Her voice carries easily through the corridor.
“I mean, Eri did tell me what she was going to do and warned me you’d be joining me very soon, but it still must’ve come as a shock.
I didn’t even know there was such a thing as a rope that could steal divine powers.
Maybe you didn’t either. And hey, it sucks. I get it, man.”
She pauses, then adds, “But you can’t just wallow forever. What’s that John Wayne saying? ‘Man the fuck up.’ Oh wait. Maybe that’s not John Wayne. Might just be my gramps’s interpretation.”
The more she speaks, the more I become aware of how young she sounds. That realization, more than anything, draws me back into the present.
I lift my head and stare through the bars at the stone wall across from me.
“It’s Lila, right?” I ask quietly. “Your name?”
There’s a small gasp, then a pleased whisper. “Yes, that’s my name. And you’re Orán, right? Or do you prefer Pestilence? Or what was it Eri called you?”
“Plague Caster,” I correct. “And no. I wouldn’t prefer that. Orán is fine.”
“Okay, wow. Orán.” She lets the name roll around like she’s tasting it. “I can’t say it with your nifty accent, and I’m probably botching it up, but I hope you’ll forgive me. Anyway, yeah. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Lila Taylor.”
“How old are you, Lila?”
“Seventeen.”
“And how did you come to be here?”
There’s a pause.
“Well… that’s a little more complicated than I was hoping for.
But I guess if it gets you talking, I’ll tell you a little.
” She clears her throat. “Eri saved me. I’ve been here for about six months.
Usually, I stay in the house with her, but since you came and since it’s getting close to the time the elixir runs out, she thought it’d be better if I stayed down here and kept an eye on you while she makes her next run for supplies. ”
“Run for supplies?”
“Yeah. She keeps them stored all over. Doesn’t think it’s smart to keep everything in one place, so she spreads it out and makes trips when she needs things.
” She sucks in a breath. “Oh shit. Probably shouldn’t have shared that.
Rewind. Erase.” There’s tapping against the wall, then, “You heard none of what I just said. Righhht?”
I can’t stop the small grin that forms. “Too late.”
“Daamn… it.”
“You sound less like a prisoner and more like an accomplice.”
She chuckles. “I guess so. I mean… I’m here by choice.”
“How’s that?”
“It’s safe here. Eri protects me. And out there—well, let’s just say there aren’t many places a seventeen-year-old girl can go without ending up right back where I was when she found me.”
“Which was?”
She exhales. “Straight for the gut. Man, you don’t pull any punches.”
I rise and move toward the bars.
When I peer out, I’m met with Lila’s face. The metal obscures parts of her, but her youth is unmistakable—round cheeks flushed with warmth, a small nose that tilts upward at the tip. My gaze drifts lower, and what I missed before comes sharply into focus.
Her belly.
It protrudes beneath the thin fabric of her blue shirt.
The implication hits me like a battering ram.
“Lila…”
“Yes,” she whispers, like we’re sharing a secret.
“Tell me you’re not pregnant.”
She looks down, then back up. Her light brown eyes meet mine.
“Well,” she says carefully, “that would be a lie, wouldn’t it. You want me to lie to you?”
“Yes. I fucking do.”
Her mouth quirks into a crooked frown. “Okaaay. I’m not pregnant.”
I turn away and rake my hands through my hair, fingers digging into the back of my skull.
Not one.
Not one teenager she’s done this to—changed, saved, altered—but two lives now. Cursed and preserved in equal measure.
“You can believe the lie if it makes you feel better,” Lila adds softly.
Now I’m the one pacing the length of my cell. It takes a moment before the implications settle enough for me to ask, “When did this happen. How far along are you?”
“Six months.”
Meaning—
“You’re doing the math,” she says. “Figuring it out.”
“Yes.”
“She saved me from the men who had me.” Her voice steadies as she speaks. “I was in a bad place. And I wasn’t the only one.”
She hesitates, then continues.
“The other girl didn’t make it. They…they slit her throat before Eri killed the last of them. Her name was Alissa.”
I stay silent.
“Eri buried her,” Lila replies. “She was two years older than me. A frail thing, really, but defiant and feisty as hell. Now she rests under a patch of wildflowers Eri replanted to mark her grave.”
My grip tightens on the bars.
“How long did those men have you?”
“A few months. The other two had been there longer than I had. Alissa, the longest. I’d been there almost three months before Eri found us.”
“She killed them?” I ask. “All of them?”
“Yeah. Uh…mmm. I may have also helped, and it wasn’t pretty.”
“Good.”