“Let me do it, I’m more mobile. You know, in case we want it done this week.” I whisper in Maxon’s ear. “Baby, go sit with your father while Mommy takes a walk.” Maxon crawls into Lincoln’s lap.
“Done this week, eh?” Lincoln wraps his arms around Maxon. “Glad to see your sass made it through Hell unscathed.”
I wiggle my hips at him. “You love it and you know it.” I gesture to a nearby line of hills. “I’ll climb over there. See what I can find.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
As I walk away, I get a better look at Lincoln’s wounds. My breath catches with shock. The torn skin on his back now has an odd, purplish hue.
“Did one of the creatures get you on the way out?”
Lincoln nods and pulls Maxon closer. “The Viperon.”
Okay, so that’s mega-poisonous. My heart lurches in my chest. There’s no point telling Lincoln everything will be fine; he knows better than anyone what kind of poison a Viperon demon carries. He’s got an hour or two at most.
Damn. At some point, our luck has got to change.
“Be right back.”
Turning on my heel, I jog across the empty red earth to the nearest jut of crimson rock. For the first time, I notice my fingers still curled in a death grip around an object. Strange that in all the chaos I didn’t even notice what my hand was doing. Looking down, I see Dad’s baculum hilt is still gripped tightly. My shoulders straighten. That feels like a good omen.
We’ve gotten through Hell. Now, all we have to do is get through the Plains of Fire.
I ignite dad’s baculum as a long-sword and hike up to the top of the jutting rock. The air is thick with heat and moisture. The sun hangs low in the sky. I scan the horizon. No one’s around.
Not so good.
I race down the outcrop of rock and over to my husband and son. In just the few minutes I was away, the flesh on Lincoln’s back has turned an even darker shade of purple. Maxon lifts his head, his eyes puffy from tears. “Do you have water Mommy? I’m thirsty.”
The sun lowers on the horizon. We need to find shelter. Ghoul riders are the least nasty things that roam these deserts at night. I set my father’s baculum into one of my holsters. “I don’t have any water, baby.”
Lincoln kisses Maxon’s temple. “Why don’t you and Mommy go look for shelter and Daddy will wait right here for you until you get back.”
I crouch down beside Lincoln, checking his pockets. Unlike my fighting suit, Lincoln’s armor is jam-packed with little places to hide stuff. Maybe there’s a healing potion squirreled away somewhere.
“Myla, please. You and Maxon should go.”
“No way. We are not leaving you here.” Panic rises through my blood.
We did not just get through Hell only to have Lincoln die on these stupid plains.
“There must be something else we have to help you.”
A new voice sounds from behind me. “You have me, Myla-la.”
I whip around and, Unholy Hell, I’ve never been happier to see Walker. “You found us!”
He wraps me in a deep hug. “I’ve been patrolling for hours, worrying myself silly. You three would have given me a heart attack, if I still had a beating heart.” He closes his eyes, and a portal opens immediately to his right. Another ghoul steps out. “Tell them we found them.”
“With pleasure.” Walker’s buddy steps back through portal and disappears.
“Everyone’s waiting at your Mom’s place in Purgatory.” Walker scans Lincoln’s back. “You look like Hell, Shield Brother.”
Lincoln’s voice comes out a rough rasp. “Well, I’ve been through it.”
“We’re skipping your mother’s place. I’m taking you to Purgatory General first, okay?”
“That’s fine with me,” says Lincoln.
“Good thinking, Walker. Lincoln got hit by a Viperon on the way out.”
Walker closes his eyes, and a low hum sounds as a new portal opens. Maxon climbs up into my arms and our tails entwine.
Lincoln rises slowly, wincing with each movement. I actively ignore the fact that the wound on his back is oozing some kind of black pus. Together, all of us step through the portal and into the blindingly bright light of Purgatory General.
An antiseptic scent assaults my lungs. Bodies in white scrubs scurry everywhere in the blinding brightness. “All medical personnel to triage immediately,” announces a nasal voice over the loudspeaker. “The Great Scala and her companion have returned, along with the Scala Heir. Repeat, all medical personnel to triage.”
Someone places Lincoln on a gurney. Another someone sets down Maxon and starts running his vitals. The room starts to move in and out of focus. Yet another new medical someone is trying to talk to me. I see the nurse’s lips move but can’t understand a word. Pain spikes in my neck.
What the?
My legs give out from under me and I collapse onto the floor.
# # #
My soul is a bird, soaring through pure white space. I’ve been this way for ages, flying though dreamlike air, looking for someone. White mist reels over me, tiny prickles of cold stick in my skin.
A voice sounds on the clouds. It’s familiar. My mother, maybe?