Page 70 of Grave Mistakes
Istand inside the mausoleum, and I have to swipe my sweaty palms on my jeans so that I don’t lock my grip on my walking stick-scythe. It’s bladeless right now, and I still haven’t figured out exactly how to activate the blades, but it makes me feel better just to hold it.
“Remind me again exactly what we’re going to do.”
They’ve already told me three times on the way over here, but hearing the plan makes it feel safer and saner. Like if I hear it enough, it won’t be so scary. Just another afternoon where I’m visiting Hell and figuring out what kind of demon I am. No biggie.
Iceman looks at me patiently. “We’ll go through the Gate. This time, we’ll go further than last time. We’ll take you all the way to the Vestibule.”
“And the Vestibule is the place where there’s a portal for every Ring of Hell,” I say, regurgitating his previous explanation.
“That’s right,” he replies, ever the supportive demon. “Demons can only enter the portals where they’re from and lower. I’m from Unus, or First Ring, so I can enter one, two, three, four, and five. But Crux, since he’s a Tres—a Third Ring demon—he can only go through the three, four, and five portals. Make sense?”
“Yeah, okay,” I say, wiping my hands yet again. If my palms sweat any more, I’m going to have to put deodorant on them. “And how are we going to find out what Ring I’m from?”
“You’ll attempt to pass through the portals,” Crux answers, bumping my shoulder with his. “You can start with my portal. I’ll go with you. If you can pass through that one, we know you’re at least a Tres.”
“Then Jerif will take you through Duo,” Echo adds. I notice that Jerif isn’t the one to offer. I don’t want to go through the portal with his grumpy ass either. He probablywouldsell me off to a Jabba demon if I weren’t their only hope right now.
“And if you can go through that, I’ll test you with Unus,” Iceman replies.
“So all I have to do is...walk through?”
“Yes,” Iceman tells me. “If you’re a lower ranking demon, the portal won’t allow you to pass. It will be simple and should be fairly quick, so long as we don’t run into any complications.”
My ears buzz. “Complications? What kind of complications?”
Crux groans. “Don’t freak her out.”
Iceman looks contrite. “I’m not trying to freak her out. I’m trying to prepare her.”
“You said I would be fine,” I say, doing my best to not let panic bubble up inside of me.
“And you will,” he promises, reaching forward to grip me by the shoulders. “We won’t let anything happen to you. But thisisHell we’re going through, and Outer Ring demons are causing more and more havoc every day. Not just by trying to break out of the Gates, but by attacking Inner Ringers. They’re vying for control and power, and you don’t know how to ward yourself yet, so you’ll be visible to them, which means we’re going to stay visible as well. So you need to stay alert.”
“Can’t you just ward me like you ward my house?” I ask.
“Nope,” Crux replies. “Using our abilities on you could fuck with your choices and free will, so we can’t do that. Forbidden is an understatement when it comes to that, and we’re not trying to start a war with the higher ups or have Lucifer on our ass for breaking rules.”
“So we get to do things the old fashioned way,” Echo adds.
I swallow hard, my eyes slipping over to the side to look at Jerif’s face. I can’t chicken out. Not again. I can do this. Worst case scenario, I get scythe happy again. That wasn’t so bad. I’ll just make sure not to keep my mouth open, or lick my lips, or try to make out with anyone right after killing anything.
Thoughts of a nice steamy group shower flash through my mind, and I shake them away. I blame Hell and the impending trip for making my brain go haywire. Yep. That feels like a solid excuse for what’s happening to me.
“Okay. I’m ready.”
Before I can even fill my lungs with non-acidic air, they grab my hands, and that weird vertigo feeling washes over me. One moment, we’re in the Mortal Realm, and the next, we’re suddenly standing in the massive mausoleum that I immediately recognize as Hell’s Embrace.
We’re back.
I don’t stumble or fall this time, and I don’t feel like I need to puke, so I suppose that’s something. I’m still not disintegrating from Hell’s acidic air either—nope, shouldn’t think about that. I’m just breathing normal oxygen. My lungs are happy. And Hell is like my Nana’s house: smells weird, but it’s not so bad once you get used to it. Maybe there’s even cookies down here. I’m sure I’ve heard something about cookies being offered on the dark side.
“You’re still on your feet,” Crux observes, and I can’t help the smile that stretches across my face.
“I’m getting better at that whole realm shifting thing,” I point out.
“Sure are. You’ll be a pro in no time,” he says, squeezing my hand before dropping it.
Jerif grunts irritably and gives both me and Crux a look. “You know as soon as he fucks you, he’ll forget your name and all this kissass bullshit will stop, right?” he tells me coldly.
