The Crossing (Immortals) (34 page)

A tear glistened on her cheek. "I'm not sure I deserve it,
Mac. But... at least I can tell you I'm sorry. For everything I did to you, and to Kalen, and Christine. It's been
one of my greatest regrets that I can't tell them how
ashamed I am."

Old, familiar guilt swamped him. "It would have been
different if I'd taken you when you were born. If I'd raised
you after Niniane threw you away."

"How could you have? You didn't even know I existed.
And by the time you found out about me, I already hated
you. I wouldn't let you care."

"I did, anyway. I 'do now. Let me help you. I have death
magic, Leanna. So do you. Perhaps neither one of us can
take on Malachi alone, but together? We can try, at least."

"Death magic, Mac? You?" Horror etched her face.

He grimaced. "Yes, I've learned to cast death. It was...
necessary. I'll do it again if I have to."

"But why, Mac? Why not use your life magic?"

His gaze snapped to her face. "Life magic doesn't work
in Hell, Leanna."

Her brows rose. "That's an old wives' tale, Mac. I'm
surprised you believe it. Just think for a moment. You're a creature of life magic. If it were true that life magic can't
exist in Hell, you'd be dead. But you're not."

He stared at her. "I tried to cast life magic. It didn't
work."

"You have to set a circle of protection first. Something
you've probably never done. That's a trick for human
witches, not Sidhe. Or demigods. You're used to having
unlimited power, Mac. In Hell, life magic has boundaries.
You have to choose your position carefully."

He examined her intently. "Have you done it? Have you
cast life magic here?"

She sent a nervous glance toward Malachi. Her voice
dipped to the barest whisper. "I've tried. And if I hadn't
delved so deeply into death magic before Culsu took
me to her realm, I might have been able to escape after
she fell, before Malachi caught me. But I've done so
much damage to my soul during my life. My soul isn't infinite, and with my masters constantly draining my life
essence..." A sheen of sweat appeared on her temple. "I
didn't get far. But you-that's another matter entirely.
Your life essence never ends. You could do some real
damage here with it."

"And Hecate knows it," Mac whispered, half to himself. "The bitch! That's why she encouraged me toward
death magic. She knew if I embraced darkness fully, I'd
be no threat. I should have realized she would never have
helped me."

He grasped his sister's hand. "Leanna. How do witches
make a circle?"

"In the human world, they use salt. Or holy water. Neither substance exists in Hell, except within a living body.
Tears work."

"Or sweat."

"Yes."

"No problem there. It's hot as... well, hot as Hell in
this place." He stood, glancing at Malachi, still sunk in his drunken slumber. A filament of oily drool hung from the
corner of the demon's mouth.

"Draw a circle around him," Leanna whispered. "With
us inside. Quickly, before he senses what we're doing."

Mac nodded. Rising on silent feet, he paced a wide circle around both Leanna and the sleeping demon, leaving
drops of sweat in his wake.

When he was done, he approached Leanna. "Touch me,
Leanna. Let me give you back some of what you've lost."

"I don't deserve it, Mac."

"That's not true. Everyone deserves a second chance at
life."

She hesitated, then nodded. She laid a hand on his arm;
he covered it with his own.

With a fierce burst of will, he sent his immortal life
essence flooding into his sister's body. Before Mac's eyes,
Leanna transformed. The lines on her face smoothed; the
shadows disappeared. Her spine straightened, her shoulders went back. Her red hair became lush and thick, every
trace of white vanishing. It was as if fifty human years had
dropped from her body in a matter of seconds.

"What the-" Malachi's eyes snapped open. The demon
catapulted from his armchair, hellfire blazing from his fingertips.

Leanna ducked, splinters of death singeing her hair.
Mac met the attack with arms raised. Elfshot burst from
his hands, exploding in Malachi's astonished face. Leanna
added a second burst of green sparks.

Malachi howled his outrage. The demon struggled to
call a defense, floundering as Mac forced him to the floor.
Muttering a life magic spell, a verse of healing and cleansing, Mac directed it full force at the Old One. Elfshot exploded.

Malachi gasped a curse. Turning, the demon fled to the
iron-studded door. He didn't bother opening it this time.
He merely turned to smoke and seeped beneath it.

Leanna's gray eyes were wide. "I don't believe it! We ran
him off."

"Not permanently, I'd wager. That would be far too
convenient. I suspect we just caught him by surprise. He'll
regroup soon enough. We've got to get out of here before
that happens."

"You're right, of course."

"But not through that door, preferably. Malachi might
be waiting on the other side. Do you know of any other
exits?" He ignited a blaze of elflight overhead, eyeing the
open side of the cell. "Besides the sheer drop into that
pit?"

"Yes. Up," Leanna said, pointing to the ceiling. A hole,
just large enough for a slim woman to wriggle through,
pierced the rock.

"Hell is riddled with secret passages," she explained.
"And Malachi's created portals between Hell and Shadowhaven on almost every level. This is Level Seven. That
tunnel leads to Level Six. There's another portal to Shadowhaven there."

"Will you be able to escape to the human world from
Shadowhaven?"

"I'm sure I can, now that my life essence is high."

"Then go, and be careful."

"But-aren't you coming with me?"

"No. I'm going in the other direction. Down."

"Gods in Annwyn, Mac! Why?"

He huffed a laugh. "Why else? A woman. A human
witch."

Understanding dawned in Leanna's eyes. "That's why
you're here in Hell. A damsel in distress, and you're her
knight in shining armor."

He grimaced. "I wouldn't put it exactly that way, but
yes. I came to Hell with a witch named Artemis Black. Her
son's soul was stolen by an Old One called Hecate, and
she's determined to get it back."

Leanna gasped. "Hecate? Bloody hell, Mac. Hecate isn't
just any Old One. She's Lucifer's consort!"

"I know that. Artemis won't be able to face her alone."

"I should think not. Hecate's power is off the charts.
Only Lucifer's is greater. No one would willingly challenge her, not even Malachi." She eyed him. "But you
mean to, don't you?"

"I have to. I love Artemis, Leanna. And I promised her
I'd do everything I could to save her son. But..." He
sighed. "That's not even the whole story. Artemis doesn't
know it yet, but she's carrying my child."

"Mac," Leanna said seriously. "Fighting Hecate under
any circumstances is pure folly, even with an immortal
soul and the ability to fight with life magic. We're talking
about facing Hell's most depraved demon, in the Underworld's deepest level. The evil on Level Nine... it's inviolate. It would be a pure miracle if you were able to save
Artemis and her son. And miracles don't happen in Hell."

"That may be," Mac said. "But I'm still going."

Leanna was silent a moment, then sighed. "I wouldn't
expect anything less from you. You're so... so good, Mac.
It hurts to know how much I've disappointed you all these
years."

"Leanna, that's-"

"It's true, and... I know it's inadequate, but I'm so
sorry for it. For everything. All the people I've hurt, the
lives I destroyed. You believe me, don't you?"

Mac reached out an arm and pulled her into his embrace. "Leanna. You don't have to keep asking for my forgiveness. You're my sister, and you've just given me more
hope than I dreamed possible. Because of you, I have a
fighting chance to save Artemis, without destroying my
own soul in the process. Yes, I believe you."

"But... I hated you so. Because our mother loved you
and threw me away."

"Niniane's full Sidhe. She's not capable of love. Not
really."

"Do you... oh, Mac, do you think I'm capable of love?"

He kissed her forehead. "I know you are." He set her at
arm's length and gave her shoulders one last squeeze.
"Now go, quickly, Leanna, and don't worry about me. I'll
knock off Hecate, snag Artemis and her son, and be home
before sunrise."

"Mac. Maybe I should come w-"

"No, Leanna. Forget it. You've been through enough.
You're going. Now."

"But-"

"Go, Leanna. Now. That's an order, from a demigod.
Come on, I'll give you a boost."

She let out a long breath and nodded. "All right."

He laced his fingers together. Gripping his shoulders,
she stepped into his laced hand. He lifted her to the tunnel
entrance and watched her disappear.

Gods, the stench was foul.

Artemis had been afraid she'd be trapped at the bottom
of the great pit, but when she flew into the depths of the
shaft, she discovered there was no floor. She found herself
flying high in the sky of Hell's eighth level.

Swooping low in her raven form, she followed the bank
of a putrid brown river. Bubbles rose thickly to the surface, spewing flame into smoky air. The profound stink
left a disgusting taste in the back of her mouth. There was
little doubt in her mind as to the river's contents: thick,
boiling excrement.

The shore over which she flew was nothing more than
a narrow strip of rocky land backed by a sheer cliff with
no visible summit. The sky above was a stormy charcoal.
Hot wind whipped from the low-hanging clouds. Each
breath was sheer torture. But her own agony was nothing
compared to that of the corpses swimming in the fetid
river.

The damned fought against the river's current. Flying
on, Artemis understood what they so desperately wished
to avoid. The river widened and flattened around sharpedged rocks, strewn with broken bodies. The damned
caught on the rocks cried out, their raised arms scant defense against the diving attacks of what looked like birds
and sounded like pure evil.

Furies. Hideous winged demons. And they'd already
noted Artemis's approach.

One darted in her direction, its pointed tail cracking
like a whip. The movement drew more of its kind. They
gathered, red eyes blazing, beaks dripping blood.

Thank the gods, they didn't attack. There seemed to be
an invisible line beyond which they would not fly. Artemis
had no doubt that the moment she crossed it, she'd be
shredded to pieces.

Wings tiring, she fluttered to the shore, backing up as
far from the oozing river as possible as she considered her
predicament. The passage to Hell's deepest level surely lay
within the Furies' territory. There had to be a way to get
past. She turned the dilemma over and over in her mind.
Some time later, after mentally proposing and discarding
more than a dozen scenarios, she still had no answer.

And then a small demon materialized beside her. For a
moment, all she could do was stare at the creature. If
Artemis had been in human form, she doubted the demon
would have stood much higher than her knee. It looked
very much like an imp or a sprite, only bald, with brown,
scaly skin and a slender rattail that never completely
stopped moving.

Recognition dawned. She opened her beak. Her bird
voice squeaked, but formed human words easily enough.
"You were in Shadowhaven. You're one of Malachi's minions."

The demon spat. "Minion. Huh. Slave, more like.
Thrall." He waved a hand toward the river. "But at least
I'm not as bad off as those idiots. Fitting, isn't it?"

"What is?"

"You know who's here? Seducers, con men, politicians,
and bigamists." He grinned. "Advertising executives. All
experts in shoveling crap. Now they're drowning in it."

"Poor fools."

"Don't bother feeling sorry for them. Believe me, each and every one of them would pull you in there with him,
if he could. My advice? Obey Hell's number-one rule.
Look out for yourself. That's what everyone else does."

Artemis ruffled her wings. "Then why are you here, giving me advice?"

The demon winced. "Don't have much choice, do I?
Malachi says `jump,' I say `how high?' He says `help the
human witch get to Level Nine,' I've got to do that, too.
As distasteful as it may be."

"Malachi sent you?"

"I just said he did, didn't I? Damn, but you humans are
dense."

"And he told you to help me."

The demon crossed his stubby arms and glared.

"All right, all right," Artemis muttered. She supposed
she should be grateful for help in any form at this point.
"Do you have a name?"

The little demon sighed. "Damn it, yes. Malachi calls
me Angel."

"You're kidding."

"Malachi has a warped sense of humor. Now, do you
want my help or not?"