spel literal y blew Vayl off Bergman, slamming him into the ground, leaving him dazed and steaming.
“Vayl!” I screamed as a second explosion of shield-shaped air ripped me off Kyphas. I rol ed down a narrow aisle until my thighs hit a vat. “Fuck!” The only advantage of being slammed into a concrete bowl was that it had temporarily taken my mind off the potential loss of the Rocenz, and my life. Oh, and my headache.
I gripped the side of the vat and struggled to my feet, staring as Bergman lunged backward, trying to free himself from the demon’s hold. When he got one hand off her wrist, I realized Sterling’s spel had worked for him too. Now it was just between him and Kyphas again.
“Bergman!” I yel ed. “We have to have that hammer!” Even though my knees tried to buckle under me with every step, I began walking toward them, moving my eyes between Vayl, Cole, and Bergman. My
Kyphas could see him too. But she seemed determined to ignore the devastation she’d brought on him.
Instead of giving him a smile, a nod of encouragement, she stared into hel ’s fishing hole. When she final y turned back toward Bergman the door had begun to swal ow her. She’d managed to wedge her heel into its base, but even her superior strength couldn’t hold it back for long.
superior strength couldn’t hold it back for long.
She looked up at him, both hands tight on the Rocenz now. “Save me,” she whispered.
He sat on stones so caked with dried droppings, animal hair, and fat that the smel would never come out of his jeans, holding the other end of the only tool that could save my life.
I dropped behind him, wrapped my arms and legs around him like we were about to take the bumpiest sled ride of our lives, and held on tight, his blood soaking into my clothes as I said, “Save yourself, Kyphas.” I jerked my head toward Cole. “And start by admitting there’s one soul here that means more to you than your own life.” Her eyes went back to Cole, whose groans were becoming harder to tel apart from his growls. I couldn’t read the expression on her perfectly formed face. I prayed it leaned toward pity. But before she could confirm or deny my hopes, she lost her grip on our world. Her legs slipped through the door. Water splashed. She jerked to one side.
Her knuckles went white as she clutched the Rocenz and screamed. “Cole!”
He screamed too. As if he could feel her pain.
Her torso was through. Bergman and I jolted forward like we’d come to the end of our rol er-coaster ride and it was nearly time to debark. But I had a feeling we were just strapping in.
Shadows towered over us. Sterling dumped al his pockets, hoping to find the one spel that would separate the Rocenz from its operator. Vayl, holding his sword high like he meant to decapitate her, staggered forward.
“Give him up, Kyphas!” Vayl commanded. And again, dropping the sword slightly as if he was wil ing to make a deal, “Let Cole go. He might even love you for it.” One of her hands released. Reached into her chest and came out, fouled with blood and black stringy gore. But she also held the rock she’d chiseled.
Bergman reached for it. As soon as he touched it, Kyphas was yanked into the air. Bergman and I must’ve peered into hel at the same time, because we both screamed. Later he described his monster like something off the Sci-Fi channel, skinless and oozing, its hands so perfectly formed into blades that they sliced into Kyphas’s muscles like meat hooks. My version wasn’t so clear. It was as if the muck of the tannery vat had transferred itself into that ocean, and what rose from it to drag Kyphas under could only be seen in bits. Algae-green tentacles that wrapped around her thighs, their slime eating into her skin like cure-resistant bacteria. A tuft of blond hair that fel like silk over huge hungry eyes gleaming with wicked humor.
The worst part? Bergman, stil holding the rock, also flew upward, bringing me along for the ride. We slammed back down again so hard that I lost my grip and he began to slip through the gateway.
I lunged for his legs, yel ing, “Vayl! Something huge is pul ing us in!”
I caught Bergman’s calves just as his belt disappeared through the gateway.
Screaming. So many voices I couldn’t separate them anymore. Some in my mind. Some in hel . At least two in the world I was trying desperately to keep my best friend inside.
Bergman wedged his ankles under my armpits. “Ow!
Son of a—”
My own voice was drowned by the sound of Sterling chanting, but the spel that raised the hair on the back of my neck wasn’t helping me or Bergman. We kept inching forward. I risked a look, which was when I saw Vayl, outlined in a red glow, jump through the planar door.
“Holy shit! Sterling, what did you do?”
“Don’t talk to me,” he ordered. “I have to concentrate on him or he’s going to get stuck there.”
Speaking of which… I got a better grip on Bergman’s calves and twisted, trying to rol him out of the gate. We just went sideways. And then we rol ed the other way. Great moves if we ever wanted to transform ourselves into burritos. Kinda pointless for escaping a hel hatch.
“Don’t let go!” I cried. I wasn’t sure whether I was talking about the rock—or me—or hope. But the fear building in me gave me strength to pul even harder, especial y when Bergman began to shake. And then it turned into a ful -body shudder. He was dying, his soul unable to cope with the pain, the horror of lying poised over a pit whose contents—
for him—I could only imagine. He began to pray. I heard him say something about his parents. Was I supposed to contact them? Or leave that job to the Agency? I couldn’t understand his directions. And it pissed me off that he thought he needed to give them.
“Astral!” Vayl bel owed. “To me!” The cat, who’d spent the whole conflict singing “We Gotta Get Out of This Place” by the Animals, ran across our backs and leaped into the abyss.
