Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
I hate that I can understand where Sala is coming from, why she hates me so much. I’d hate me too if my father brought me into this world for no reason other than to hide a lie and then cast me into another world to die or be raised by a demon.
“Be calm, little bird,” Death says quietly from behind me. “I can feel your anxiety in my bones.”
I nod, trying to breathe in deeply through my nose, but it only makes me cough, the air down here thin and acrid.
Oh dear, Raila says, coming to a stop in front of us.
“What?” Death growls as we both nearly collide with her.
I hear footsteps, she says. Running, many beings.
“They’re my subjects,” he says, pulling his mask down over his face. “Let them come.”
Her veiled face glances over her shoulder. They will see you and know what Louhi has told them. They will want to fight you.
“Let them fight,” he growls.
Oh boy. I clench my thighs together. What a terrible time for that to turn me on.
Master Tuoni, you don’t even have a weapon, Raila chides him.
“That’s never stopped me before,” he says gruffly.
But while they’re talking, I hear footsteps, many of them, coming faster and faster, along with some other kind of jangling noise. It takes me back to the match, and I realize it’s the sound of bones clanking together as they run.
“Get behind me, both of you,” Death says, grabbing both me and Raila and pulling us back. He takes Raila’s torch from her and brandishes it in his hand like a weapon.
The marching sounds get closer, and down beyond the dark curve of the slimy walls, light flickers from oncoming flames.
“Here they come,” Death says.
Raila reaches out with her boney, gloved fingers and gives my hand a squeeze.
Suddenly, they appear, rounding the end of the tunnel: skeletons running toward us, two abreast, shields in one hand, swords in another. They’re mostly bone, though the occasional piece of dried skin hangs off them in tatters, their eyes empty sockets, their jawbones clacking as they run.
“Halt!” Death says, raising out his ungloved palm. “I am your king. Who gives you permission to be here?”
The skeletons stop a couple of yards ahead, the leader at the front cocking his head at the sight of us.
“We have been commanded to patrol Inmost,” the skeleton says, the teeth snapping together. Clack, clack, clack.
“Commanded by whom?” he asks.
“By you,” the skeleton says. “We were told that if we were to encounter you down here, along with your queen, we needed to kill you.”
“What if I were to tell you that I’m the real king and the other is the impostor, a Shadow Self controlled by Louhi?”
The skeleton seems to consider that for a moment. “It doesn’t matter who you really are. You’re not the one promising us our freedom.”
“No,” Death says gruffly. “But I am the one who can send you to Oblivion.”
“With what weapon? Fire?” The skeleton snickers. “If you truly were the king, you should know that fire doesn’t hurt us who burn in flames every day. And if you truly are the king, you should know that we’ve all dreamed of the day when we could escape from this world you’ve imprisoned us in for eternity.”
“An eternity you deserve,” counters Death. “I am a just ruler.”
“Just a matter of opinion,” the skeleton says. “And why should you rule over us in the name of what is fair and just when the Upper World, the world we came from, has never been fair?”
The Hell-bound skeleton does have a point.
“Because only in death can there be true justice,” my husband says.
“Well, we think justice is overrated,” the skeleton says, looking over his shoulder at the crowd of his kind behind him. “Isn’t that right, boys? Let’s welcome in the Kaaos!”
All the skeletons raise their swords in a rallying cry that makes parts of the wall crumble away.
This isn’t going to be good.
They start sprinting toward us, and I get into a fighting stance behind my husband, unsure how the hell I’m going to fight a bunch of sword-wielding skeletons. Meanwhile, from behind me, Raila starts chanting something low, guttural, and raspy, causing all the bugs on the walls and at our feet to start running away.
Well, fuck. If the insects are retreating, perhaps we should too.
Death lets out a roar as the first skeletons clash with us. I can’t see over his frame, but I can tell he’s swinging the torch, and he’s making contact with the skeletons, the sound of bones crunching and swords rattling to the ground. One of the swords lands to the side of Death, and I quickly crouch down and snatch it up. It’s heavy in my hands, but the hilt feels good against my palms, and I take a two-handed grip, all the training with Vipunen coming back to me like muscle memory. Perhaps Death was right, and the subconscious Goddess side of me learned more from the giant than I thought.