MILO’S FACE WAS SCREWED UP IN PAIN, so much so that Alexa felt tears falling down her face. And then his mouth opened in a silent scream before he found his voice.
The scream that followed was the worst scream she’d ever heard, like a high wailing noise, rising in pitch like the scream of a terrified child.
“I forgot to mention,” interjected Markus, after Milo had stopped screaming. “Only the angel who spilled their essence to open the Inferno Trials can claim the sword. He can try all he wants, but he can never claim the sword.”
“What?” Alexa whirled. “Why didn’t you say anything before? You just let him…”
“I figured it was self-explanatory… you did open the trials.”
“You bastard!” seethed Alexa. It took tremendous effort not to dash across the chamber and slit his throat. “You did this on purpose! You’re dead. Dead!”
“Calm yourself. Working yourself into a state won’t help your situation, now will it?” said the demon boy lazily. “Besides, I can’t interfere, remember? I didn’t make the rules. Your own people did—”
“You just did!” screamed Alexa and stood up. Her effort was rewarded with a razor-sharp stab of pain through her gut. Gritting her teeth, she took a step and fell forward, her knees smacking against the hard floor. But she crawled over to Milo and pulled herself up using the stone altar.
When she looked into his face, the pain and fear she saw there threatened to split the remains of her soul into tiny bits.
The demons were a hulking presence, a sea of darkness. Some had semi-human features—eyes of white fire and yawning mouths that were flickering coals of deepest black. Their eyes were opened to full raging, flaming fury. They were closer than before, maybe twenty feet away from her and Milo. But none advanced. They waited for Alexa to fail, waited to devour whatever piece of soul she had left. And then they would get Milo.
She knew they were ready to snatch her if she failed, if it came to that…
Alexa shuddered at the thought, something like bile tainting her mouth. No. She had to do something now or Milo would die. Her fault. It was all her fault.
Her mind raced, considering her options. Her eyes grazed the hilts of Milo’s swords…
Without a moment’s hesitation, she drew one of the sabers and immediately felt the pulse of strength in it. The sword was remarkably light for its size, but still much heavier than her soul blade.
“Forgive me,” she whispered.
Alexa steadied herself, fighting the nausea and the panic that threatened to take over. She lifted the sword above her head—
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” said Markus.
Alexa froze, her arms shaking under the weight of the saber. She swayed and nearly fell.
“What?”
“I know it seems like the right thing to do, under the circumstances,” said Markus, “But even if you cut off his arm, it won’t save him. He’s already lost too much of his life force. If you cut off his arm, you’ll surely kill him.”
Alexa let the sword fall to her side. “I have to try… I have to try something. I won’t let him die.”
She looked at Milo, his face contorted in pain. He gave no indication that he had heard she was about to mutilate him.
Movement caught her eye. The demons were barely ten feet away from her. They stood in a semi-circle with her and Milo in the middle, and with them came shrill cries, shrieks and screams. Their maws opened and thrashed eagerly, as though they could smell her desperation and sense that she and Milo were running out of time…
Time!
Alexa glanced at her watch and felt her knees weaken. They had under two minutes left.
“Claim the sword,” said Markus, leaning forward in his throne. Excitement rippled on his face. “Claim it, and all of this will go away.”
She wondered if the fear she felt showed on her face. “But I—”
Her words were cut short by Milo’s bloodcurdling scream. She tossed the saber and pulled feebly on Milo’s arm where the flames hadn’t touched him. His mouth was moving, but no words came through. The flesh from her hands was raw, and she could even see bone. His body convulsed. And with a final jerk, he collapsed to the floor.
The bone sword had let him go. But why would it, unless…
“Milo!” Alexa knelt next to him. She gazed down at his face and brushed the hair from his forehead with a trembling finger. His skin was hard and cold like ice. She grabbed his shoulders and shook him. “Milo. Milo wake up. You can’t be dead. Not like this. No, not like this.” Her throat burned at the word, and she was shaking uncontrollably.
Staring at his face, she tried to absorb the enormous and incomprehensible truth—never again would Milo speak to her. There was so much she had wanted to say to him, but she had been afraid. And now she never would—
“He hasn’t reached his true death, not yet.”
Alexa looked up at Markus, hot tears spilling her eyes.
“But he is going to die if you don’t act now,” said the demon. “Already the light of his soul has diminished. You can see it too, can’t you?”
“You said you couldn’t interfere,” seethed Alexa, “but you’re very helpful now, aren’t you? Why? Why now?”
Markus smiled, slowly and wickedly. “He’s dying. If you care about him, you’ll act now before it’s too late.”
Alexa fought back the panic. She didn’t have to look at her watch to know that they had about a minute left. She didn’t have time to think about what happened after their time was up. She had to save Milo.
“But how? I don’t know how to help him!” she cried in wild panic. Alexa felt the world crumbling around her. Milo’s limp body was a helpless weight against her. When she looked away from him, she saw one of the demons very close now. If she wanted, she could reach out and touch it, and its smell made her gag.
“Only the return to Horizon can save your friend,” answered the boy demon.
“How am I supposed to do that when you said the only way back was to complete the trials.”
“Do you want to save your friend?”
“Of course,” spat Alexa.
“Then complete the trials and take the sword.”
Alexa’s body shook. She bore down on every spike of fever, every roiling fit of nausea and pain. Soon—soon her true death would come to greet her.
“But how?”
Markus only smiled. “With an enormous amount of strength, a blast of energy that can sever the link. Destroy the link, and you can take the sword.”
“I don’t have the strength anymore. I’m worn out.”
“Are you?” said Markus, watching her strangely. “You have the means of power all around you. You just need to reach out… and take it.”
“Which means?” Alexa blinked through her tears, wincing as she held Milo in her arms. The rot smell from the demons was making her dizzy. She looked around. The demons had closed in. There were hundreds of them—semi-humanoid, insect-like, part beast part human, even giant worms with human-like heads.
“There’s nothing in this damned place,” said Alexa. “Milo was right. It’s a prison, a prison for the souls of monsters and demons.”
And then Alexa knew what to do. It was as though a switch had turned on in her mind, giving her the confidence. Somehow, she knew it was going to work.
She let Milo go and rose to her feet. Reaching inside of herself, to that familiar place, that fragmented soul that had latched and gained some of Hades’ own powers, she opened herself to it.
She forgot about her pain. There was only the light inside of her. She called out to it, felt it ripple in response, anxious to be let free.
Alexa opened her arms. “Come,” she commanded the demons. “It’s what you’ve been waiting for, isn’t it?”
The demons moved, forming a great mass of shifting shadow and spreading like a choking fungus around her. They came at her, all at once, and from every direction.
But Alexa was ready.
When Alexa reached out and touched the darkness of their souls, the endless rift shot straight through her core, into her, filling her mouth and her veins—and then out. Their bodies exploded.
Misshapen shadows writhing, half out of the corpses, half in it, their bodies bleeding a pool of darkness. But they were all hers now. Their souls were hers.
A bolt of electric energy shook through her as a stream of black souls entered her body. It sizzled through her veins, but she didn’t feel pain. She felt delight, and she savored it.
The chamber hall trembled, a boom like the sudden crack of thunder. A violent wind rose, and her hair and clothes flapped about her as the souls entered her body. Alexa harnessed the energy of the dead and demons’ souls. And she controlled them. Hundreds of them.
The demon souls poured their power and strength into her. It jolted through her veins like a massive dose of adrenaline.
Where she’d felt the light and warmth from the mortals’ souls, now Alexa felt a cold heavy pulsing rippling through her veins. A darkness, powerful and frightening and yet intoxicating. The dead and demons were but manifestations of souls. And their souls were not the white light of mortals, but of black and darkness.
Slowly, Alexa brought the souls to the forefront of her mind and body. She felt a rush of power, and then she turned to the bone sword. She flicked her body forward and let her power fly.
Tendrils of darkness shot through her and crashed into the sword.
A sonic boom exploded about the room as shards of rock and debris blasted in all directions.
Alexa was thrown back and landed hard on her hip. Within seconds she was on her feet, blinking through the dust and ash.
The bone sword lay on the ground at her feet. No longer blazed with green light, its silver blade was gray and sharp. Alexa reached down and curled her fingers around the hilt. Her fingers crackled with static. The sword was heavy despite its size, but Alexa didn’t feel anything from it, no surge of power, no magic, nothing. Maybe its power would reveal itself later.
Alexa whirled around. In place of the black stone altar was a hole, a hole of deepest black cut through the atmosphere, like a hole in a wall, large enough to fit a person.
The hole was black and solid, and it reminded Alexa of a Hellgate, but it didn’t feel foul. It didn’t feel like anything. She knew this was the back door Markus had told her about. She’d completed the trials, and they were going home.
But when she looked past the portal across the chamber, the throne was empty.
Without a moment to waste, and with her body rejuvenated with strength, Alexa hurried over to Milo.
“Milo! Milo can you hear me? Can you stand?” But Milo’s pale face was like a stone statue, hard and stiff, the face of a dead man. His eyelids flickered, as though he’d heard her, but he didn’t wake up.
Alexa knew the portal wouldn’t last forever. They only had seconds.
She sheathed the bone sword and Milo’s saber around her waist. She interlocked her hands around Milo’s chest and dragged the big angel in an awkward, backwards shuffle towards the portal.
With a final great heave, Alexa pulled her angel warrior through purgatory’s back door.
She saw Milo’s mouth move, and then a wave of dizziness descended on her before she spiraled into darkness.