The pile of snarling and snapping creatures are less than twenty paces away now, still mounding up like rats in a pit.Only, these rats have massive, sharp teeth, long, curved, wicked black claws, and bulk that even I can’t match.At least, not all tiny and powerless in my humanoid form.
I pull on my magic to try and shift, but it comes up blank.
I try a few of the human swear words I’ve learned from Liz, which helps me feel better, but offers no real benefit.“Come on, Axel.You have to think.You called them over here—now figure out how to get away.”
That’s when it hits me.I’m standing on...nothing at all.
Why can’t I simply shift up higher?
It works.The second I imagine myself in a higher position, I am.
The creatures bellow and roar below, clearly irate that I’ve figured out how to prolong their torture.They don’tlookemaciated and starving, so something’s clearly keeping them alive, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t suffering from terrible hunger pangs.
I can understand that whole concept.
The blessed don’t require as much in terms of physical consumption as earth children, because we bring in energy from other locations.We might not even die without eating for an extended period, if we weren’t expending a lot of energy, but we’d suffer.
These guys look like the poster children of suffering.
I’ve just shifted upward a second time when the walls that aren’t walls begin to shake.It’s not constant, more like trembling from the impact of...something.I’m not sure what, but it’s not reassuring.
Liz?
Or what if, here, like me, she has all her memories, even the lost ones?Who would she identify as?What name would she answer to?
Gullveig?I call out.Gullveig?Elizabeth Chadwick?Are you there?
No reply from Liz, but the creatures double down, upon hearing that name.It’s clearly one they know.
Gullveig!They all start shrieking in a demented sort of rasping unison.And then, without warning, they begin to shift.
The great, hulking beasts with monstrous fangs, frightfully corded muscles, and curved, blackened claws take on much larger forms, surging upward rapidly, expanding in size as they turn into their blessed—or cursed, as Liz called it—forms.They’re black, dingy grey, and the purple of a vibrant human bruise.
And they seem to be even angrier.
Rabid, even, snapping, snarling, and agitated.They almost reach me before I practically fly upward.A simple glance shows no ceiling, thankfully.“Why do you all want Gullveig?Do you hate her?Do you want to kill her?Or do you want to serve her?”
Salvatoris!they shriek.Dimittis!
Some of them think she’ll save them, and others count on her for their release.I’m not sure they should, since I doubt Liz will differ in her opinion from me.Liz, I call again.There’s a horde of demons here, and they all want you.They think you’re going to free them, but I vote against it.
I shift upward more often now, ever more upward.The creatures seem to measure into the thousands or more, never ending.Churning, snapping, snarling, and hissing.
I hope Liz is alright, and I hope she can save Hyperion, and I hope when I go back to Earth, I’ll remember her.
And I’d really like to touch her—in my human form.
It’s a lot to ask for, I know.It’s greedy.
Saving Hyperion would be enough.
But now that I’m here, even fleeing increasingly higher from nasty critters in my human form, I can’t help yearning for her.Even without memories, even not being able to touch her, I did finally figure out she was special.
And I never forgot she wasmine.It was like that truth was embedded in my soul.But there’s something about the earth children’s tactile comfort, something about their quiet moments and reassurances that just isn’t the same when I have scales.
Just the thought of her—and now with her wings, scowling or laughing—she’s glorious.Iachefor her.In this form, in this place, knowing what I know, remembering her fierce bravery, her tenacious insistence on doing the right thing—I love her.I miss her.I yearn to get that back.
Liz!I shout.Please, please get back safely.Please.
