The Underworld (Rhyn Eternal) (20 page)

“Sister. She’ll be thrilled to see you again.” Gabriel drew a deep breath. “Okay. First things first: the oath. Second, I’m going to give the death dealers a chance not to spend eternity in Hell.”

Past-Death gave him a long look, and Fate raised an eyebrow.

Gabriel pulled a knife from its sheath. “How does this work? I cut myself and say the words?”

“Cut, immerse your hand in water then say it,” Fate directed. “You’ll be introducing yourself to the gods and goddesses of eras past, sealing your commitment with two of the three laws.”

“Three,” past-Death corrected him.

“Whatever.”

Mates-blood-fate.
Gabriel shifted back to the caldron, his heart pounding as he realized he was about to take the final step to seal his position as Death. His mate flanked him on one side while Fate went to his other.

With a deep breath, he sliced his hand with the knife and lowered it into the water. Souls rose up to greet him, caught in invisible currents, while his blood twisted and twirled like red ribbons into the depths of the bowl.

“I swear by the Three Laws to protect all souls and perform my sacred duty until the underworld chooses another,” he repeated quietly.

More souls rose up. As each brushed his hand, a flurry of images crossed his mind, before the soul floated back to the bottom of the bowl.

He closed his eyes, unable to register exactly what it was they were sharing with him. The visions were too fleeting, the messages too faint, but he watched and listened anyway. As he did, he became aware of something else: the quiet flow of knowledge from a second source.

Names, faces, histories … they washed over him, hundreds of thousands a second. The souls in the Lake were eager to tell him their stories as well, their tales conveyed through the bond the Lake shared with the water in the bowl. Ever reverent of the souls, he couldn’t help but feel humbled at the secrets they shared, the hopes, dreams and disappointments of each of them.

It was an honor even greater than the one he considered serving Death in the capacity he had before. Trillions of beings were trusting him to keep them safe, and the intensity of such a realization made him want to weep at the incredible realization of what it truly meant to be Death.

Clenching his jaw, Gabriel took it all in, unable to stop the flood of knowledge and unwilling to disrespect the souls he protected by trying. Instead he did what he always did and let the souls speak. The knowledge of eras past raced past his eyelids, the whispered secrets of every age pummeling him.

And then it hit him like a punch in the stomach. With a grunt, he bore the familiar sensation, his astonishment soon replacing discomfort.

It was the feeling of a bond, like that to his mate, being formed between him and the underworld. The missing link, the confirmation of the incredible secret he’d learned in the short time he’d been in the sacred closet.

The underworld had chosen its master and was officially, eagerly welcoming him.

Just like Darkyn said.
He didn’t want to guess if the Dark One had purposely told him or guessed right. With knowledge from the time-before-time, there was a chance Darkyn knew.

The only thing he was concerned about: letting the souls speak.

For someone who never left the dungeon, Karma seemed to know where to lead them. Four times they evaded discovery when the goddess ducked into a room or around a corner suddenly, and twice, Deidre thought they had been discovered, only for the death dealer to walk right by them.

Karma had some sort of magic about her, though Deidre wasn’t able to pinpoint what. It wasn’t pure invisibility, or they’d run straight out. It had to do with the individual death dealers they passed, as if Karma knew how to evade the senses of some but not all.

When the deity stopped in a quiet alcove of a hallway, Deidre released her breath. Her stomach was cramping once more, not enough to cripple her, but bad enough that she wasn’t able to stand straight. Focused on the pain, she gritted her teeth and waited for Karma’s next move.

The pain faded once more. Deidre straightened. “What’re we waiting for?” she asked.

“For you to be ready to fight, if we must,” Karma answered. “This way leads out.” She pointed towards a hallway swarming with death dealers.

“Oh, god.” Deidre’s heart quickened. “That’s a lot of people.”

“We are both in black, and they are incensed already.”

“Is that why the other two didn’t pursue us?”

“Eh.” Karma shrugged. “Karma can hide herself. I reflects emotions and also sometimes the faces of others.”

“Like a chameleon,” Deidre said, impressed.

“Maybe. How many legs does it have?”

“Four, I think.”

“Maybe not like a chameleon,” she said. “You will have to stay close. It takes more effort to hide both of us.”

“If we go with the flow of dealers, we’ll be less likely to have our faces seen,” Deidre said, observing the foot traffic. Most were headed in the same direction while the occasional dealer appeared to be going against the flow. “Are they headed out?”

“I thinks so.”

Deidre glanced at her newfound friend and noticed how pale the deity was. The skin around her eyes was tight. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“I derives my strength from balance. There is so little here. I hurts, too,” Karma said softly. “But you derive your power from imbalance. Can you fight?”

Deidre’s heart jolted, her stomach turning at the memory of what she’d done earlier. While scared, she knew she had no choice, if they were to escape. “Yes,” she replied. “I can fight.”

“Claws.”

Deidre released the deity and looked down. This time, her fingernails lengthened and turned black instantly. Her gums itched, and she instinctively breathed deeply, seeking out the faintest hint of blood.

Her hands trembled, as much from physical weakness as fear. The resolve and anger she’d experienced in the bathing chamber returned, and she shook out her shoulders.

Whatever it took, they had to make it out alive.

“I’m ready,” she said.

“Pull up your hood.”

Deidre stretched back and reached for the hood, tore it with her claws, then gripped it between her fingers and yanked it up.

Karma took her hand again, this time more carefully, before they started forward at a quick walk. Reaching the intersection, the two of them waited for an opening then plunged into steady stream of death dealers headed outside.

Bombarded by scent, Deidre’s nose wrinkled, and she finally covered it with her hand, not about to sneeze and draw attention to them in the lethal situation they were in.

The corridor spilled out into the dark night, and standing just outside was the redheaded woman Deidre hoped never to see again.

Harmony. The leader of the rebelling death dealers was taking in the face of every assassin trotting out of the palace and assigning them to a direction.

Deidre squeezed Karma’s hand and all but yanked the deity closer. “Use your power for Harmony!”

“For harmony? What else is balancing for, if not to establish universal har-”

“No! I mean the redhead there sorting dealers!”

“Ah. Karma will do so.”

“We can’t be holding hands or she’ll know.”

“But-”

Deidre yanked her hand free. Karma started to turn. Deidre pushed her forward again. The two men separating her from Harmony were soon gone. The underworld night was chilly, a humid breeze smelling of blood, battle and the forest washing over Deidre as she waited anxiously.

The scent of blood made her drool to the point she had to wipe her lips. Disgusted, she tried to breathe through her mouth to keep from smelling anything.

“Palba, I thought you were already assigned,” Harmony said, taking in Karma’s features with a sharp gaze.

“Not yet,” Karma replied.

“Squad A.” Harmony pushed the deity out of the way and focused on Deidre. “Tensur, I
know
you were assigned.”

Deidre froze, afraid to move, afraid she might say something to Harmony about how fucked she was when Darkyn or Gabriel cornered her. The green-eyed, traitorous beauty was examining her more critically.

“Something’s not right here.” Harmony lifted a lock of pink-tinted hair.

“Run!” Karma hissed.

Deidre bolted.

Harmony snatched her with reflexes too quick to follow. Deidre reacted just as quickly, slashing the death dealer across the face with her fingernails.

Wrenching loose, Deidre held out her hand to the awaiting deity and ran into the night, towards the smells and sounds of battle.

Harmony’s shriek of anger and pain was followed by a flurry of orders directed at finding the two who slipped by her.

Heart pounding in her ears, Deidre ran as hard as she could, clutching the soft hand of the panting deity towards the dark blob she knew to be the scary forest she’d seen from the windows of the palace.

Karma angled them away from the battle. It was too dark to know what was going on for sure, though Deidre caught the flashes of blades in the light of the two moons and saw what looked like an anthill forming in the center of the battle.

Fear shot through her at the idea of Darkyn being at the bottom of that dog pile, beneath dozens of dealers, and she slowed, squinting to see better.

They drew parallel of the mess, and the deity slowed when she noticed the growing mountain in the center of the milling figures.

“What is that?” Deidre asked.

A shout behind them reminded her of what pursued, and Karma jerked her forward.

“Come … on!” she gasped.

Deidre fled.

They reached the forest when Deidre smelled it: the rich, overwhelming, powerful scent of her mate’s blood.

Her stomach seized, and she dropped, torn from Karma and her senses by the pain twisting her insides.

“Deidre!” Karma sounded panicked.

Vaguely, Deidre heard the sound of flesh meeting flesh as their pursuers reached them. One of them careened into her and tripped, landing on the ground ahead of her.

This ends now,
she chanted again. She wasn’t weak, and she wasn’t about to be captured or killed when she was so close to her bloodmate.

A sob escaped her, but Deidre forced herself to her feet. “Karma?” she asked shakily, struggling to determine which of the blurry figures near her was her friend.

“Here!” came the grunt.

Deidre leaned against the tree nearest her heavily, righting her senses and quelling her urge to vomit. She closed her eyes to identify the cold flows marking the sources of power radiating off the death dealers. They were heavy here, the thick ribbons of magic emanating from the writhing mass of the main battle swept through her. She shivered from the combination of night and magic then opened her eyes.

Unable to balance more than one person at a time, Karma was fighting off three dealers with a knife and her hands. She ducked and wove among the trees to keep them from ganging up on her at once. Even so, Deidre guessed the dealers were under orders to bring them in alive – or they’d both be dead.

After another second to ground herself, Deidre pushed away from the tree and lunged at the death dealer nearest her. Her claws tore into the flesh of one of his arms, and she discharged the cold power curling within her.

He dislodged her with a shove, only to drop to the ground immediately after.

Karma gave a muffled cry.

Deidre struggled to her feet, driven by the scent of blood and the cold power within her. A dealer snatched her, and she careened into him, slashing at his throat and yanking back simultaneously. He gave a gurgled shout that alerted the five shapes rushing towards them from the palace.

With a second slash of her claws, she finished the job and spun to face the dealer that had Karma pinned to a tree. Deidre grabbed and pulled him away to give Karma the chance to escape. Karma whirled and snatched him, her hair going straight and eyes glowing eerily as she drained his vitality.

Deidre took a moment to catch her breath, unable to get the scent of blood out of her nose. She pinched it closed and faced the direction of the palace.

The five attackers were at the tree line.

“We have to go!” she shouted and darted forward frantically to grab Karma.

The deity released the bones she held and stumbled after her.

The scent of Darkyn was growing stronger, driving her closer to madness, making her stomach scream out of hunger and blinding her to anything but the need for blood.

Not two steps later, Deidre was yanked backwards, as one of the dealers caught up with Karma. She released the deity and caught her balance before turning. Karma was screaming, but it seemed like the sound and scene came from far, far away and was in slow motion.

Anger, hate, betrayal, revenge … Deidre let the cold power filled her, too physically exhausted to support herself without it.

And then she let go, the same way she had in the bathing chamber when Karma’s life was in danger. The demon side of her stepped up, better equipped to protect her than the human side.