An Angel’s Road to Hell

Cassandra Pendragon

Blood dripped quietly from my clenched fist and sprinkled the ground like crimson rain. So much for talking. With a decisive shove I buried my hand in a still heaving chest and crushed the squishy heart I felt uselessly beating against my fingers. “You should have run,” I mumbled without an ounce of pity when his eyes glazed over and the smell of death and charring bodies wafted through the chamber. With a wet sucking sound that made my tails curl up I yanked the fistful of flesh from the gaping wound, showering my arms and face with hot, sticky blood. My tongue darted out from between my lips, the waning sparks of life force a delectable, gruesome treat I didn’t even care for. The cold fire in my eyes surged when I turned my gaze towards my dripping hand, my fury rising with every passing moment.

Amidst the gory pulp on my palm a small, translucent bead shimmered softly in the dim light. It didn’t look like much, a strangely coloured pearl or gem, maybe, but it still was the reason why I acted like an Aztec high priest, revelling in decadent, deadly debauchery. The inconspicuous thing contained the stolen essence of uncounted lives, their youth, their purity burned to fuel the cruel aspirations of a family far beyond redemption. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

Without hesitation I rose from the desecrated corpse, not even sparing a single glance for the burned out husks I had turned his guards into. Not all of us needed complex rituals to steal what should be sacrosanct, after all. I hadn’t touched those souls, they had escaped to the river as soon as I had snuffed out their life, but everything else I had taken without remorse, without a second thought. While Ahri’s voice reverberated through a distant corner of my mind, still engrossed in a meaningless conversation with a mindless puppet, I whirled around and focused on the dark, glistening door on my right. The old man didn’t know what was coming, none of his drones had been able to utter so much as a whisper before I had sent them west. Unfortunately I couldn’t return what they had taken, but I wouldn’t forget. Neither the tortured expressions of their victims, nor the ingenious tools of atrocious greed they had created. I wouldn’t forget and I was going to even the score. The silky crackling of reality torn asunder filled the room when my spear appeared in my hand. A single step brought me in front of the enchanted metal, the runes and sigils evaporating as soon as Aiglos brushed across their surface. And I had thought our visit would turn out to be suffocatingly boring…

“Are you sure,” I asked while I finally disentangled myself from her tails. “It’s not much of a problem to call for help. We don’t have to do it on our own.” Ahri shook her head.

“It’s going to be fine, if push comes to shove I can still yell at them, can’t I? Your voice might be a danger to the seals but mine isn’t.” Apparently she was taking my suspicion, that my power was what kept the immortals at bay, to heart, even though we couldn’t be sure. “Where are you going to hide,” she added, her gaze roaming over the dark, deserted street.

We were halfway between the harbour and one of the markets. I wasn’t yet overly firm when it came to our new home’s roadmap but since the fight pits, a plain open square about a kilometre further east, were practically attached to the backside of the uncountable stalls, booths and shops it was a safe bet to assume that slaves, weapons and armour were the prime commodities. Sturdy and well kept houses formed neat lines to our left and right, the domiciles becoming ever more impressive the closer to the market they were, but the huge complex, arranged around a central, open yard, directly in front of us still stood out like a sore thumb. It wasn’t unusual for larger families or even clans to share a homestead but the mansion in front of us could easily accommodate a hundred people, maybe even more. A veritable army could live there without anyone being the wiser and I had an inkling that the cellars were at least as impressive as the granite and ironwood construction above ground.

In a way it reminded me of ancient Roman or maybe even Japanese architecture, with a square main building surrounding the yard. From my vantage point I couldn’t get a glimpse of what laid behind the three storied monstrosity with its shingled roof but I assumed that facilities like a smithy, baths, stables and a well were either incorporated into one of the wings or built within the courtyard. The outer facade only included a scarce few windows, heavily barred and on the top floor, while a broad, reinforced gate loomed before us like the waiting maw of some forgotten abomination. Well, that might have been a tad over dramatic but I still had an eerie feeling while I scrutinised the silent, dark residence. Not even the flicker of a torch was visibly behind its dead windows, staring soullessly at the star strewn sky.

“A gate this size… shouldn’t we smell or hear some animals,” I mumbled. Ahri nodded and added:

“Or at least some heartbeats but either the thing is warded, there are far less people living here than I thought, or they already manage to build soundproof walls. I don’t think it’s the latter.” My eyes flared silver for a moment.

“Neither is it the former. There are wards but they won’t be a problem. Just keep in mind that they might serve more than one purpose. Maybe the whole thing is rigged to blow up.”

“Won’t matter too much, I don’t fear explosions and neither do you. What should I do if they simply don’t open the door?”

“Knock again with a little more enthusiasm until the gate breaks,” I suggested while I pulled out my white cloak and shrugged into the enchanted garment. “They’ll come running before long, trust me.” She inclined her head with a small smile.

“Where will you be?”

“On the roof unless something catches my fancy.” Before I could pull down the hood she stole another quick kiss and shooed me away. Without another word I bent my knees and jumped, a trickle of energy from my core reaching my legs. The wind howled in my ears as I rose into the night, easily covering the distance in a single heartbeat. Quiet like a whisper I landed on the warm terracotta slabs on all fours, my tails fanned out to keep my balance. Below me, Ahri approached the gate quickly while I wiggled my tails back under the hem of my cloak. Just when the last silver shimmer died out, I heard a resounding knock. A grin spread across my face when I imagined her yelling: open up, police, but it faded away almost instantly when I bolstered my senses.

A faint tinge of spilled blood, muffled groans, the quick beat of hurried footsteps and hissed commands, uttered in a foreign language, reached me. We had definitely come to the right place. A silver glow entered my eyes as I gracefully turned on the spot, looking, searching, listening. For a few heartbeats I could only hear the broken echos below me and the shuffling of thin soled boots towards the entrance but when I concentrated, I also detected an almost imperceivable rustling sound, like heavy wheels turning on a cobblestone street. It was coming from below a small alleyway behind the mansion and when I followed the implied direction with my gaze, I saw a rundown storage hall. Guards were hiding in the shadows around the entrance but once they had caught my attention they could just as well have been prancing around, butt naked. “I’ve found something and someone is coming your way.” I felt her presence brush through my memories and could almost see her sneer.

“One hidden tunnel and the gate. No one is leaving on my end.”

“Meet you there soon, I’ll take the long way round,” I sent and glided closer to the edge of the roof. Best to come at them from another direction. A quick jump and my fluttering cloak vanished behind a corner. It didn’t take me more than a handful of seconds to circle around, my senses taut, my muscles twitching with suppressed tension. In the narrow alleys my vision wasn’t useful and I mainly focused on my hearing but aside from the scurrying of small rodents, the cry of a lonely bird and the increasingly loud, steady heartbeats of the guards the night remained silent.

When I had reached a narrow passage between two houses I paused and sniffed the air. The scent of blood had become stronger and I also smelled something… sweet, something I had come across only recently. Pleasureheart. I hissed quietly in surprise and fumbled for the list of Soulcatchers Rachmahn had given me. My eyes darted down the neat columns until I found the name I had been looking for. Alec Ironhands. Apparently our newfound friends were a thorn in our sight in more ways than one. “Careful,” I warned Ahri. “They might be more dangerous than I thought. You can’t be poisoned but if something seems off, don’t hesitate to use your flames.”

“Understood. Someone’s at the gate, it’s opening as we speak. I’ll keep you in the loop.” I closed my eyes and sent another wave of power to my ears, trying to figure out what was going on in the warehouse as well as underneath my feet.

Over the rumbling of iron studded wheels I now also heard the choked, shallow breaths of at least four people, the steady steps of a warden and an ominous crackling I immediately associated with surging magic. Too bad I hadn’t seen a hint of mana, except for the less than professional wards around the mansion. Fine. First order of business get rid of the guards. Second order of business prepare a warm welcome for the carter and his living load. We’d go from there.

I sped up, my feet beating an almost silent staccato on the cobbled stones. A heartbeat later I reached the back wall of the storage hall, but I didn’t slow down. My wings whispered into existence, weaving a net of pulsing blue and silver in front of me. Granite hissed like water when it turned to ash, the stones seemingly parting around me like a curtain. Framed in eternal light I soared through the hole, my wings already reaching for the gaping guardsmen. For a moment the hall was filled with living lighting, a bottled up thunderstorm beyond human imagination. Before they could do as much as blink in surprise I had wrapped my wings around their necks. A tide of power surged in my chest, the scintillating torrents of light flared and they crumbled, twitching and insensible. I caught them before their heavy armour could clatter thunderously against the wooden floor and quietly lowered them to the ground, my eyes darting from left to right, my wings dancing around me like a swarm of agitated snakes. I wasn’t anxious or scared, I was excited.

The hall wasn’t empty, crates and wagons, coils of rope and dusty sacks cluttered the floor while large arcades provided just enough light to puzzle out distinct shapes, but my eyes immediately darted to an haphazard arrangement of junk, apparently forgotten in a corner. I wouldn’t have paid it any attention if it hadn’t been for two of the guards, whom I had interrupted in their arduous task of clearing away boxes and even a small anvil. Their efforts had revealed a sturdy, oaken trapdoor, maybe 4 on 3 metres, and judging from the increasingly loud rumbling I heard through the heavy wood, the caravan of bodies was drawing closer. Well, I couldn’t keep them locked in, could I?

I rose a handspan into the air and quickly removed the remaining obstacles. I didn’t touch the door itself, though, and simply positioned myself close by, presumably behind whoever would come stumbling through. I didn’t have to wait for long, the click clacking of studded hoofs drew ever closer and the suppressed whimpers of either delirious or hurting creatures turned into a cruel backdrop against the soft, tuneless whistling of an oblivious guard.

Blood thundered in my ears, nearly drowning out the cacophonous song, but I didn’t move. My wings swelled, mirroring the tides of fury I felt thundering through my veins, but I didn’t act. My crown manifested, its cold glare extinguishing the last, fleeting shadows, but I didn’t strike. Not yet.

A heavy key crunched inside a hidden lock and I heard a hoarse, cold voice call out: “Orim, Zeisam, why the fuck didn’t you open the gods damned door? It’s difficult enough to keep the fucking things in a stupor. One of them beasts is already at the door!” A heavy grunt reverberated through the hall and the slabs of hardened oak trembled and opened. “Help me, damn it! If we don’t get the goods out the old man will skin us al…” Silvery light was flooding through the widening gap and I heard him gasp before I wrapped my wings around the door and tore it straight from its hinges. It shattered against the wall, sending splinters everywhere, some of which left bleeding gashes on the bodies of the downed guardsmen. Not that I cared.

A deathly pale, wide eyed face stared at me from the mouth of the tunnel, his broad shoulders, hidden underneath a blackened chainmail, trembled with fear while he was trying to hide behind a closed top wagon, pulled by a lizard like creature as tall as a horse. “Two,” I whispered, my voice slicing through the silvery light like a hot knife through butter. “There are two of us at your door.”

He backpedaled, stumbling over the hem of his wide linen trousers. To keep his balance he grasped for the walls of the wagon, rattling the whole thing when his armoured back slammed into the side. A somewhat squishy sound, accompanied by another bloodcurdling groan, floated towards me and I felt my teeth grind when I realised that I hadn’t been mistaken. Whatever load he had been ushering through the darkness, by now even a blind squirrel could have figured that at least a part of it consisted of bound and hurt slaves. The scumbag had even called them goods.

Like a harbinger of doom I glided forwards, my wings dancing along the tunnel, flitting over the wagon and lashing out towards the paralysed human. The sharp smell of urine assaulted my nose when a wet patch spread across his crotch and my lips curled up in disgust. Cowardice and cruelty often went hand in hand but this was just pathetic. “And we’re looking for an explanation,” I continued nonchalantly, as if we were exchanging a few insignificant words at the local tavern. “I’ll give you a choice. Tell me what’s going on here willingly or I’ll rip the information straight from your mind.” By now my aura was expanding, bearing down on him and the lizard with the weight of a world. They crumbled, unable to move, unable to even blink or think. “Self-service it is,” I answered myself with a cute smile. “Relax, this is going to hurt. A lot.” I had never before forcefully extracted memories, I had always stuck to surface thoughts, prompted by questions or impressions, but this time I didn’t really care if he’d turn into a salivating zombie. Was it just? Probably not. Still, caught together, hanged together, and I wasn’t the darn angel of justice, either.

It didn’t take much, not more than a soft caress, and the walls around his mind shattered like hot glass caressed by ice. He convulsed, his eyes rolled up into his head and blood gushed freely from his ears and nose. Without a care in the world I lowered myself to the ground, a part of my wings already reaching for the wooden cover of the wagon. Just when I ripped it apart, carefully shielding the precious burden hidden underneath, a tendril of pure, undiluted power invaded his thoughts, suppressing his will and rendering him as helpless as a newborn kitten, mewling before an ancient dragon. Memories and images, tainted by a deep seated bitterness, flooded my mind while the bodies of four emaciated youngster, beast kin and human alike, shivered in the glaring light, a first spark of hope in the darkness that had claimed them for months. A heartbeat later my disgust turned into unbridled fury and the still breathing corpse went up in eternal flames.