Hell's Pawn (16 page)

“W ho is responsible doesn’t ma er,” J ohn said. “G ood people are imprisoned, souls who need our help. Not all of them belong to your pantheon, but you can bet people there are silently praying for their gods to come free them. You say it’s an honor to still be in the minds and hearts of these people. Well, maybe it’s time to repay that love by doing something for them.”

M anannan’s eyes twinkled. “Are you sure you aren’t a denizen of Hell? You have quite the silver tongue.”

“I think that tongue could use some polishing,” R immon smiled, “but he does make an interesting point.”

“W hat is it to be, then?” M anannan asked. “Does Hell want to wage war against Heaven or Purgatory?”

R immon hesitated. “Hell only wishes to pool our resources,” he said. “Together we can free the souls and return them to where they belong. O f course finding the culprit behind the recent changes is also a priority. Hell is interested in retuning balance to the realms, and dispensing justice is a crucial part of this plan. W hat say you, Manannan?”

“S uch decisions are not mine alone to make. I speak only for myself and not the pantheon, but after hearing the impassioned words of you both, I will tentatively lend you my support. O n one condition, which is that you must convince the other gods here.” Manannan gestured ahead of them. “Gentlemen, welcome to Mag Mell.” The boat’s journey over, they had reached an island thick with trees. The forest beyond was filled with the sounds of animal life. M arga, now young and buxom, squealed happily as she ran down the ramp toward the people gathered there. They embraced her enthusiastically, a tearful reunion that eventually moved into the trees.

“Her family?” John asked.

M anannan nodded. “I should have erased your memories and sent you away like I did the others,” he said. “Although in your case, J ohn, I wonder if I even could.

R egardless, you’ve seduced me with your words, and I will allow you to continue your journey.”

R immon clamped a hand companionably on the sea god’s shoulder. “Your support is much appreciated.”

“You may not find the others so easy to convince. I will summon a guide to take you further, although you had be er slip back inside your friend. I can understand your fear of prejudice, and C ernunnos isn’t fond of demons. He feels, perhaps rightly, that they stole his image.”

Once Dante and Rimmon were joined again, Manannan placed his fingers to his lips and gave a shrill whistle. B irds erupted from the forest and took to the sky, not in reaction to the sound but what it had summoned.

At first J ohn thought an elk was appearing from between the trees, for the antlers first drew his a ention. They were a deep mahogany, stretching wide and tall from each side of the god’s shaggy head. S tubble dominated C ernunnos’ chin, the same dark shade of hair that covered his muscular torso, trailed down his stomach, and ended in a thick tuft just above his crotch. J ohn didn’t need the god’s aura to explain that he was an avatar of fertility. I f the nudity wasn’t indication enough, his considerable endowment drove the point home.

C ernunnos moved like the animals under his domain, falling onto all fours to gallop toward them, his arms bulging with thick ropes of muscle that drove him forward with incredible speed. The god of animals came to a halt at the end of his territory, the point where the grass ended but before the beach began.

“Hail, Manannan!” he called in a gruff voice as he stood again.

“A pleasant day to you, Horned O ne,” M anannan replied. “Against my be er judgment, I ’ve allowed two of Hell’s ambassadors to take advantage of my good nature.”

“They won’t fare so well with me,” Cernunnos promised.

J ohn tried to leave the boat last, hoping if he lingered long enough he could speak with M anannan, to ask quickly what his condition was, but Dante stayed at his side like a Secret Service agent.

“We shall meet again,” M anannan said, perhaps picking up on J ohn’s intentions.

“After all, someone must bring you back to your coach.”

J ohn swallowed his frustration and disembarked. B olo was one step ahead of him, as usual. The dog had already reached C ernunnos, but instead of his usual excited antics, he was si ing calmly with his full a ention focused on the god. J ohn couldn’t help but join the dog in his admiration, feeling pulled in by the pure masculinity that seeped from Cernunnos.

He reeked of sexuality, of the irresistible primal urge to mate. C ernunnos carried the musky smell of animals and had a wildness in his eyes that was both mesmerizing and frightening. His very nature called to the beast in J ohn’s soul and made him want to rip off his clothes, cast off the starchy mantle of civilization, and be free again.

W ithout warning, C ernunnos turned and with an impressive burst of speed, shot toward the forest; J ohn, Dante, and B olo followed. The chase was on! Animal instinct whipped them into action as they raced after their prey. Two legs weren’t fast enough.

B olo was already leagues ahead, but J ohn’s body knew what to do. He fell forward, landing painlessly on his knuckles and broke into a gallop. Dante had done the same.

He was at John’s side, his eyes mad with exhilaration.

They broke through the line of trees and plunged into shadow. O bstacles were everywhere, but they didn’t slow. L ike possessed beasts they raced on, dodging around tress, sending leaves and twigs flying as they increased their speed. They were gaining on the horned god. J ohn could see his flanks drawing nearer. He bared his teeth, overwhelmed by a terrible urge to bite into the flesh of his prey and draw it down to the ground.

The sun beat down on the clearing ahead that C ernunnos escaped into. The horned god stopped when he reached its center, skidding around in a circle to face them, his antlers creating a death trap. B olo was the first to stop, then J ohn before Dante collided into him. They ended up in a pile, just inches away from the fierce points of the antlers.

C ernunnos stood, towering over them. “Well? W hat words did you bring? W hat tricks did you think would turn us from our path?”

J ohn struggled to find his voice as they regained their feet. The animal instincts had fled from him, but his mind hadn’t yet recovered.

C ernunnos sniffed, his wide nostrils flaring as he sampled each of them before settling on Dante.

“W hat is that smell on you? An ox? A goat? S omething with horns. S omething close to me, but you aren’t one of mine.”

J ohn waited for R immon to appear, but the demon stayed hidden. C ernunnos stomped a circle around Dante, guttural animal noises rising from his chest.

“You don’t look like a demon.” He took another deep whiff. “B ut there’s no mistaking that smell. Your kind stole their scent from me.”

“Don’t go blaming me,” Dante said. “S ome friends you can’t choose. Associations that you didn’t ask for, if you catch my drift.”

C ernunnos huffed, took a step back, and howled. The sound was terrifying, an immensely deep chord that made them shudder. M ovement came from the trees. The first to step into the clearing was a bear, followed by a leopard and a boar. Then the stags came, at least a dozen of them. They were brawny creatures, their coats and hooves glossy with health, but it was the impressive racks that intimidated as they were lowered meaningfully.

A low growl began in Bolo’s chest, confirming the intended threat.

John swallowed. He needed a distraction. “These animals are yours,” he said, “but is this where all animals go when they die?”

“Words,” Cernunnos hissed as his beasts began to advance.

“How many stags did we see trapped in Purgatory?” John asked.

“O h, I don’t know,” Dante answered smoothly, having caught on. “Ten? Twenty?

Enough that it was hard to count.”

“Empty and hollow words!” Cernunnos snarled. “Pots sculpted from liar’s clay.” B olo’s growl broke into a whimper. They were done for. The dog could sense what humans couldn’t and must have known no hope was left. C ernunnos meant to kill them, or whatever horrible condition he could inflict on them, except that the woodland god’s complete a ention was now focused on the dog. He growled at the dog and dipped his head in a feigned a ack, but B olo didn’t back down. I nstead he barked, dodging back and forth as if C ernunnos were a sheep he could herd.

C ernunnos growled back, but B olo continued to be a moving target. Then they both ceased this odd game.

“This hound vouches for you,” C ernunnos said. “You freed him, but there were many more.”

“That’s why we want to go back and fight.” J ohn hesitated, wanting to say more but realizing that C ernunnos had li le patience for words. The horned god thought. As he did so, the surrounding beasts relaxed and dispersed, disappearing back into the forest.

“Those before you had nothing to say about the animals,” Cernunnos said.

“M aybe they didn’t know,” J ohn said. “This is about freeing trapped souls, animals included. That’s all you need agree to.”

C ernunnos’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “I will free the animals, but no more than that.”

J ohn breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s more than enough, but we’ll need help reaching them. There’s a barrier—”

“Come,” Cernunnos beckoned them forward. “Save your words for the other gods.” O ne moment they were on trial, the next they had gained a new ally. J ohn couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much fun! M aybe being an architectural engineer hadn’t been the right job for him, when he could have sought his thrills as a hostage negotiator or something similar.

The woods C ernunnos led them through were full of life. Two foxes cut across their path, absorbed in chasing each other. B irds fli ed from tree to tree, and the underbrush rustled with unseen activity. S quirrels cha ered and deer grazed fearlessly, as if they were in the Garden of Eden.

“So,
is
this where animals go when they die?” John asked again.

“The animals go where they please,” C ernunnos said. “They are not pulled to one place, as human souls are. Unburdened by religion, they are free.”

“I’ve noticed Bolo does whatever he likes,” Dante muttered.

Cernunnos nodded. “Dogs have no dogma.”

“B ut what about atheists?” J ohn asked. “Plenty of people aren’t religious. W hat happens to them?”

The horned god shrugged. “They do not interest me. I tire of speaking. L et us run again.”

John was all too glad to comply.

* * * * *

The sun was se ing when they reached the edge of the woods and, soon after, the end of the island. Humps of grassy hills rolled along until they were interrupted by ocean-ba ered cliffs. The world was quiet here, the call of seagulls notably absent.

Cernunnos led them toward a long, mounded hill broken by a dark opening.

A woman appeared out of the shadows. S he was wrapped in a cloak of dark feathers, her slick, black hair a scarf around her neck. Her skin was the ivory of a moon set against the night sky, for that was what she was. C erridwen, goddess of the moon, knowledge, magic, and transformation.

“G reetings, Horned O ne.” Her voice was the breeze at midnight. “That you bring company suggests business instead of pleasure.”

“I always seek your pleasure,” C ernunnos answered. “Dispose of these visitors, and these silent cliffs shall be filled with our howls.”

“Then I shall not let them delay me long.” The goddess smiled. “C ome gentlemen, come away with me.”

They didn’t need to move. The darkness from the hill’s entrance spilled out and enveloped the world. C ernunnos and his woods, the sky above and crashing waves below, all were gone. J ohn was barely able to see Dante and B olo, their faces pale in the glowing light of C erridwen’s skin. The goddess glided away from them, and if they didn’t follow, they would have no light left to see by. They chased after the goddess, who appeared to progress by a casual stroll, but they couldn’t quite reach her. The glow of C erridwen’s skin intensified as they moved through the darkness, illuminating their surroundings.

The path they were walking twisted downward through a cave. The time-smoothed walls were covered in writing, strange chopstick le ers from a language J ohn didn’t recognize. He tried to decipher words, to find meaning in the symbols, until the walls fell away. They had entered a large cavern, the echoes from their footsteps distant.

S oon the goddess ahead of them was all they could see, their surroundings lost again to darkness. S he was much further ahead than she had been before. The idea of losing her panicked them. W ithout her they would be lost in a void, deprived of their most precious sense.

“Hurry,” J ohn hissed, but there was no response from his friends. Desperately he cast his arms out to either side, but found no one there. Nor was there a reply when he called their names. Even Rimmon’s name failed to provoke a response.

C erridwen was li le more than a slowly ascending ball of light in the distance.

J ohn’s head spun with disorientation. Did the path ahead gain height? Was the goddess climbing? S he continued to rise until she was far above his head. J ohn stopped and stared. He could not follow. There was no possibility of reaching her.

C erridwen had become the moon, a solitary light in the endless night surrounding him.

The ghostly remnants of a song echoed in the distance, a multitude of voices harmonized into one that sounded familiar, although J ohn couldn’t quite remember where he had heard it before. P ressure on his shoulder caused him to gasp. He turned, expecting to find Dante, but found instead the goddess next to him, even though the moon was still shining from above. Cerridwen looked different now, older, but age had made her more dignified, more mysterious.

“C ernunnos brings out the girl in me,” she explained, unprompted. “The moon revolves around the earth, and such is my a raction to him, for he is very much a part of the land. I n the same way the ocean waters strain to reach me, the tides rushing back and forth in the hopes of entrancing me, M anannan’s eyes burn bright for me.

We are balanced, you see? Earth, sky, and water, but it will not always be so.” John stared, fixed by her words and unable to find any of his own as she continued.