Dark Harmony
Page 73

His arms shake as he gently releases Temper. I can tell he badly wants to throw my friend to the ground, but my glamour forbids him from harming the sorceress.
“Where’s the Pit?” Temper asks, looking around.
“Up ahead … My Great Goddess of Fuckery and Other Magical Things.” He mumbles the last part.
“Speak up,” I command.
His eyes shoot daggers at me. “I said, it’s up ahead … Oh Dark Queen Who Thinks I’m a Douchebucket of the Most Epic Proportions.”
Temper smirks. “What is your name again?” she asks him.
He curls his lip at her.
“Callie?” Temper says, calling for a little assistance.
“Answer her,” I order.
He grinds his teeth. “Galleghar O’Malleghar, King of Asshats, Killer of Boners, Wannabe Emperor Who Needs to Eat a Bag of Dicks and Die.”
The titles clearly got a little out of hand.
I mean, we might not be able to kill him or bring him to justice, but we can humiliate the shit out of him.
I gesture around us. “Lead us to the Pit.”
The forest is preternaturally quiet … until it isn’t.
First, it’s an angry yowl of some lone creature. Then the caw of a crow joins it. Within minutes, the woods are full of hisses and howls, wails and half-mad cries.
“Fucking creepy,” Temper whispers next to me.
The noises aren’t the worst thing about this place. I can feel a dozen different sets of eyes on me as we cut through the sparsely wooded forest. I’m still glowing like a beacon, my power drawing in an increasing number of fae. More malevolent magic tinges the air, and it’s only getting worse the farther we walk.
The last of the trees clear, and I see it—the Pit.
The thing is massive; it looks like a sinkhole, its depths cast into darkness. The longer I stare at it, the more I realize that the darkness is moving, writing about either with living things or magic.
Don’t want to go down there.
My very bones protest getting any closer.
Two shadowy creatures separate themselves from the darkness. They’re longer and more spindly than a regular fairy, but I can smell their fae magic.
I stare at them as they approach. “What are they?”
“Reaves,” says Galleghar with no little amount of distaste. “They are the overseers of the Pit, Oh Dark Queen Who Thinks I’m a Douchebucket of the Most Epic Proportions.”
“You can stop with the titles,” I say.
“He still better call me by mine,” Temper says.
“You can stop with all the titles except hers,” I amend, pointing to my friend.
Gallegher glowers.
The reaves approach us, the sight of them making the hairs along my arm stand on end.
I don’t know how they feel about me using their precious Pit to get to the Kingdom of Death and Deep Earth, but I doubt they’re going to be thrilled about it.
They stop when they get close to us, one of them scenting the air. God, they’re a hideous pair, their limbs gangly, their eyes beady, and their lips tight and bloodless.
One of them scents the air. “Our old king, a human, and … something halfway interesting,” one of them announces, its eyes landing on me. Around us, I feel that thick, cloying magic stir up.
Des’s father steps up from behind me. “As rightful heir—”
“Hold you breeches, buddy,” I say. “You’re not to talk to these two nice reaves.”
The nice reaves that look like they wouldn’t mind eating us all alive.
“The King of the Night is at the bottom of that pit,” I say to them, nodding to the hole. Strange, inhuman noises are coming from it.
Things live in that place, things that don’t necessarily belong to this world or the next. I’m going to have to face them.
“All the dead end up somewhere at the bottom of the Pit,” one of the reaves says from his twisted mouth.
“You misunderstand me,” I say slowly. “I’m telling you your king is down there not because he’s dead, but because I’m going into that hole and getting him back.”
“You can’t,” one of the reaves says. “It’s forbidden.”
The other reave’s nostrils flare; I get the impression he’s scenting the air again.
“I am,” I insist, “and neither you, nor anyone else will stop me,” I command, my voice harmonizing with itself, my glamour thick in the air.
“You can’t possibly navigate your way down,” the other reave says, even as he steps out of my way.
“You better hope I can,” I reply, “or else I’m dragging you down there with me.”
In the darkness, some creature hisses, and the noises from the Pit have ratcheted up with excitement.
“Fresh blood,” I seem to hear one of the voices say.
Yes, my siren purrs, there’s plenty of fresh blood for us to spill.
“Is that a threat?” the reave asks.
“Damn straight it is,” Temper says. “Have you not been listening?” The sorceress’s power is beginning to crackle.
We’re wasting time squabbling. With every moment that passes, Des is slipping farther from me.
I unleash the full force of my power, my flesh throbbing with the pulse of my magic. “I’m going into the Pit, and I’m coming out with your king. No one is to stop me, and no one is to do me or my human friend here any harm.”
“The white-haired fairy you can fuck with,” Temper adds darkly, earning her a glare from Galleghar.
In response to my commands, the reaves fall back, their eyes glittering with malice.
I glance at Temper. “This is where I leave you.”
“What do you mean ‘leave you’?” she asks accusingly.
“You will not follow me into the Pit,” I command.
Did she really think I’d let her enter the land of the dead?
“Don’t you dare leave me out here.” Temper’s magic begins to spark down her skin, a sure sign that she’s getting pissed. “That is not how this works.”
How this works is I’m not going to let my friend get killed.
“I love you, Temper, but this is my battle.” She wasn’t going to be dying today. “If I’m not back in a day, then you can come looking for me.”
God, please don’t make me eat my words.
“I’m not waiting a day,” she protests.
I grip her arms. “I have to do this, Temper.” I’m practically begging with her.
She stares at me for a beat, then pulls me into her arms and hugs me tight. “You keep yourself safe—the least you can do is promise me that.”
I squeeze her, holding her close. “I promise.” It’s a lie, but one we both need to hear.
“You kill that motherfucker,” she adds.
I nod into her shoulder. “I will.” Or at least, I’ll try. Not sure yet how I’m going to kill an undead thing.
Releasing her, I back up. Temper doesn’t try to stop me, though the broken expression on her face nearly makes me falter.
Beyond her, I catch sight of a retreating figure. Des’s father, trying to get away, that snake.
“Galleghar, stop,” I command.
He pauses midstride.
“Come back to me.”
Robotically, he returns, his steps halting as he fights my glamour.
They never figure out it’s useless.
I tilt my head when he stops in front of me. “Did you really think I’d let you leave?”