“How did you acquire a container of demon blood?”
“With great bravery and daring do,” Corbin grinned, snapping the box shut and replacing it in his pocket. He held out his blood-soaked hand. “But that’s a story for another time. Shall we?”
I peered at the door.Is it just my eyes adjusting to the gloom, or does the darkness not seem quite as dark as before?Corbin slid his slimy, blood-covered hand in mine, and pulled me into the gloom.
We stood at the entrance of an enormous cavern, the vaulted ceiling reaching so far above our heads that its apex was hidden in darkness. The space was carved of the same dark veined stone as the hallway, but here the veins stuck out in high relief, twisting up the walls and pulsing as though they were actual veins pumping blood through a living body.
“Shite,” Corbin swore. “We’re too late.”
I followed his gaze and gasped. In the centre of the room, was a tall dias, accessed across a chasm of fire by a narrow stone bridge. The dias held a high throne made of bones – femurs fanning out into elaborate arches, piles of bones forming steep steps that led to the seat of the king of hell.
At the foot of the steps, a giant shape made of smoke and nightmares writhed on the ground, its power fading as it wilted into nothingness. Daigh stood on its back, his bone blade raised above his head. He looked over at us and winked, then brought the blade down, burying it deep within the creature’s shadow flesh.
The creature bucked and writhed, and a wave of heat shattered the air, knocking me off my feet. Corbin dragged me back as tendrils shot out of the demon’s body and slammed against the walls, sending bones and rocks raining down. The fire in the pit flared, showering spikes across the narrow bridge.
With a final heave, the creature shrunk against the ground, collapsing in on itself like a star becoming a black hole, leaving behind only a smudge of black soot on the ground and a large crown fashioned from skull and bones.
Daigh tore off his crown of wilted vines and horns and tossed it into the fire. He raised the demon’s crown above his head and settled it on his dark hair. Dark tendrils snaked from between the bones, pouring through Daigh’s ears, into his mouth, through his nostrils and eyes. He turned to me and grinned.
“Hello, daughter.” Even in the intense heat, Daigh’s cold voice chilled me to my bones. “It’s fortuitous to find you here. Now, if you’ll indulge me by getting on your knees. It’s polite to prostrate before the new king of the Underworld.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
THIRTY: ARTHUR
Iopened one eye. Mistake. Bright light shot through my skull, like a laser irradiating my eyeballs. My head throbbed.
“Praise Mother Mary, he’s awake.” A familiar Irish voice drawled, each word a sword stabbing at my eyes.
“Flynn?” I croaked. “Why is the sun in my eyes?”
“It’s not the sun, you eejit. It’s the light. I’ll turn it off if you like.”
I heard shuffling, and a click. I tried my eyes again. The room was still bright, but it wasn’t killing me. I blinked again. Blobby shapes started to materialise, becoming bodies and limbs and faces. Familiar faces, all looking weirdly solemn. Behind Flynn was a huge contraption, like something from the medical bay on theUSS Enterprise, all flashing lights and intermittent beeps.
I tried to sit up, but it was like my whole body was underwater. “Where am I? What happened?”
“You’re in the hospital, mate.” Flynn squeezed my arm. His fingers on my skin shot more knives through my body. “You’ve been here for the last three days.”
“Three days, but…” Something nagged at me, some important thing that I had to do, that I couldn’t miss. I searched my foggy memory. “What about the Slaugh?”
“The Slaugh are toast. Goneburger. Finito. We defeated them likethat.” Flynn snapped his fingers. “It turns out belief magic and my amazing artistic talents are a killer combination.”
“Ryan Raynard’s painting stunt helped a little,” Blake pointed out.
I slumped back against the pillows. I’d missed the Slaugh. I was the warrior. My arm rubbed against the thin sheets, sending shivers through my skin. I looked down at it and noticed it was wrapped tightly in layers of gauze.
If I missed the Slaugh, then how did I get injured? Why was I in the hospital?
“What happened to me?”
“Don’t you remember?” Flynn scratched his head. “They said you might not remember much. You cut yourself with your sword. mate. You hit a main artery and lost almost 60% of your blood. We were fecking lucky Rowan saw you and Blake called an ambulance and gave you some herbs to quell the bleeding a bit. If it wasn’t for him, you’d have joined Corbin and Maeve.”
Flynn’s words took a few moments to fully register. I’d done this to myself. I’d lost all that blood…
And Blake… Blake had saved my life.
The door flung open, banging against the wall. The sound mashed against my skull like a mallet. Jane, Connor, and Kelly crashed into the room and surrounded my bedside.
