“Some sort of enchantment,” I tell the captain. “Seems our path changes as we make our way through. The only way forward is over.”
I carefully lean over the edge of the roof and offer him my hand. The moment he reaches for me, I pull back.
“What are you doing?” he snaps. “Help me.”
I cackle bitterly. It’s a fox’s laugh, chilling and raspy. Even the magic of my mask isn’t enough to disguise the sound.“No,”I taunt.
I take great pleasure in watching the man climb up after me. Sonam uses the ledge of the window as a step before hauling himself onto the shanty roof, his breath labored and his face sweaty. I pay no mind to his hate-filled glare and start toward the palace without him.
The soft green glow grows more intense the closer I get. I’mmindful of the gap between buildings, jumping from one roof to the next with ease. From this height, I’m better able to see the snaking walls slither and slide. I see an upcoming wave, the shifting tiles almost… angry at my newfound tactic. I jump to the next rooftop, only for it to slide out from under me. I hit my ribs on the edge as I fall. As if sensing my sudden loss of footing, the building shoves its way back like a horse attempting to buck its rider. It’s then that I realize this is no enchantment.
The city itself isalive, a sentient being.
I watch, slack-jawed, as the city grows into an amorphous mass of loose stones, bamboo planks, and metal pipes. The world shakes with enough force to knock me off of my feet. The canal drips from loose gaps like blood through pores. Two broken moon doors sit unevenly to form gaping eyes, a broken fence of splintered wood arranging itself into rows of teeth. The trembling mess expands and contracts as though breathing, smothering me in the stench of sewage and foul water. I lose sight of the Jade Palace as the beast swallows it whole, its eerie green glow pulsing like a heartbeat from within.
Sonam stands behind me, his hand hovering just above the hilt of his sword. Like it’ll do us any good. Neither we nor the writhing titan makes a move. The moment we lift a finger, we will face decimation. It’s almost befitting, I think. I’ve survived being burned and hunted, but what better way to die than to be eaten like all my victims before me?
Some might call it justice.
I say it’s just my luck.
My ears detect movement before my eyes do, the faintest creak of the city’s rolling body inching forward at a snail’s pace. It continues to grow, bigger and bigger until it towers over us, a tidal wave ready to crest. A mountain ready to crush us underfoot.
It’s time to run.
The city surges forward in an avalanche of debris, pelting us in loose rubble. Shards of glass rain down on our heads, iron nails embedding into our skin. The hulking mass gives chase, its imposing shadow darkening the path forward. We can’t outpace it. The captain is falling behind. Where once I would have relished the thought of seeing his comeuppance, I’m now bound to him. If he dies, so do I.
An idea sparks in my mind, piggybacking off an old memory I thought long since forgotten. I recall a time when I was playing too close to the sharp slope of a mountain face with my sisters. One of the rocks must have given way as a result of our rambunctiousness. The resulting slide nearly saw us buried, but instead of letting the stones chase us, we split off to the sides like a branching river.
“This way!” I scream at him, snatching up his hand.
He resists at first, disgust seared into the lines of his face. There’s probably nothing more repugnant to a demon hunter than a demon’s touch. For what it’s worth, I can’t stand it, either. Humans are too soft, awfully squishy. But I can’t run and explain myself at the same time. Better to yank him along than to be crushed to death—that, and pray he isn’t thick enough to start yelling at me for it.
I leap to the side and pull Sonam with me. It’s the furthest thing from a graceful landing. I stumble and roll, scraping my knees and landing on my belly, breathing in plumes of dust. The grotesque creature, top-heavy and lopsided, spills out in a raucous crash, stones and splinters left in its wake.
I dare to look over my shoulder and breathe a sigh of relief. We would have been done for, but now is hardly the time to rest. The magic here in Hell is unpredictable. For now, it seems the city has simply gone back to building itself up piece by piece as if nothing happened. We’ve landed on the outskirts of the city’s perimeter, the little progress we managed to make now dashed.
“Are you still in one piece?” I ask Sonam.
He lies beside me, gritting his teeth. The quick rise and fall of his chest betrays his usual stony composure. “Regrettably.” He shakes his head in dismay. “What was that thing? I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Sonam sits up in a daze. He fumbles around for something. That same small notebook and a bit of thin charcoal. He cracks the book open and brings the black stick to the paper’s surface to draw, so engrossed in his work that I’m convinced he’s forgotten all about me.
I keep my distance—because I frankly wouldn’t put it past him to turn this into some sort of trap—and peer over his shoulder.
To my genuine surprise, he’s drawn a quick sketch. An impressive one, at that, replicating the horror we just encountered with precise detail. In the corner, he’s scribbled down an estimated weight and height, along with a few notes written along the edges. Sonam has neat writing, elegant script one would expect from someone with access to capable tutors.
It’s a hunting log, I realize with a shiver. In the event that he should come back later and finish the job, or perhaps share what he’s learned of Hell with his compatriots once we find a way back to the mortal coil. Whatever fascination I had for his artistic prowess quickly drains away.
“Get up,” I snap, nudging his thigh with the tip of my foot. “Now’s hardly the time for pretty pictures.”
With a deft hand, Sonam grabs me by the ankle and squeezes hard. “Touch me again and you will regret it.”
“You think I would willingly sully my hands?”
“Demon filth.”
“Human scum.”
