AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I—I was waiting for someone,” I said gruffly. “That’s all you need to know.”
That seemed to give her some food for thought, and for the next fifteen minutes or so, she remained relatively quiet. Our journey to the rear gate took longer than usual since I took a more convoluted, winding route through the streets. I wanted to make sure we weren’t being followed. I kept my head on a swivel, and I was shocked none of Lysandra’s cronies had gotten wind of us yet. It felt too good to be true, and I had a bad feeling our luck would run out soon. The sooner I got out of the third circle, the better, especially since the east side of the circle was home to the vineyard.
I noticed Marnie was really beginning to trudge behind me, so I pulled her into an alley and gave her a once-over. Hell had more than a psychological effect on living souls. It had a physical one, too. She might feel sullen, depressed, scared, and all the other normal emotions, but she’d also begin to feel drained and lifeless. I’d been so paranoid I’d forgotten to take care of any of her physical needs.
Her eyes were half-lidded, and her shoulders sagged. She looked exhausted. I’d taken the break in her incessant chatter as a blessing, but really, it should have been a warning sign.
“Marnie, how are you feeling?” I asked, more sharply than I intended.
“I… I’m starving,” she admitted with a sigh. “And I’m tired. But I’m guessing earthly things like hunger and sleep aren’t important here? Judging by what I’ve seen, we can’t exactly eat in Gluttony, right? That’s the befitting punishment? Er, well, eat normally.”
I weighed my options. The second circle was Lust, but as much as it was necessary to move through that level, I still wasn’t sure I had the mental fortitude to do that yet. The circle of Lust was special even amongst those of us who inhabited Hell. It was one of the hardest circles to exist within, even though it was close to the top. By logic, it should have been a cakewalk, but nothing wormed its way into you like lust. And looking at Marnie in her black dress with her hair a mess of lavender tangles, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I’d be putting her in harm’s way.
I looked into the sky. The sky was never bright, and the sun never truly shone. The most you ever got was a dusky dawn or early evening light. Yet, even that was beginning to fade. We needed to get to where we were going fast. The gap between the third circle and the fourth was smaller than the valley between Gluttony and Lust. Unfortunately, I knew what had to happen. I just didn’t know if Marnie would go along with the plan.
“This is going to sound insane, but I think we should move down before we move up,” I said. “The next level up is Lust, and well… it’s hard to get a good night’s sleep there for several reasons. Below us is Avarice, or Greed. The whole place is restaurants, inns, merchants—it’s where you go to spend money and make money. We’ll be able to eat and rent a few rooms there.”
“So farther from Limbo?” She frowned. “Okay, please understand, moving deeper into Hell seems very against my best interest.”
I looked into her eyes and gave her chain the tiniest of tugs. Something in her eyes awakened and brightened, and I felt my heart kick in my ribcage.
“Have I led you astray yet?” I said, hoping she never had to know the ways I’d already failed her.
“No,” she relented, then gave me a small smile. “No, you haven’t.”
The faith I saw in her eyes was both a gift and a curse.
12
MARNIE
If Gluttony was a vibrant, colorful Fat Tuesday in New Orleans, then Greed was a bleak, gray, Dickensian evening in Victorian-era London. Every brick in the buildings, every stone on the cobblestone streets, and even every speck of dirt seemed to exude a sense of misery. There was no color save for the glimpses I saw in the shop windows. The clothing on the demons and their chained souls was vintage yet lavish. Not one item looked like it had been fashionable past 1900, but it all looked exceedingly stuffy and expensive. The demons dripped with jewels and pocket watches under their suits and petticoats. Shopfronts had cracked glass windows and displayed an odd assortment of items. Some windows were filled with glittering jewels and golden coins, which were, of course, tantalizingly out of reach. Others showcased cheap, shoddy goods that still had impossibly high price tags. Everything seemed made to both catch your eye and bankrupt any avaricious souls nearby. A thick fog rolled over the whole scene, and it felt like Jack the Ripper could step out of an alleyway at any second. Once again, at least Gabe was the devil I knew, and despite any lingering reservations I had about him, I quickly gripped his arm tightly.
“You’re sure we can find some good food around here?” I asked nervously.
“We have to go more toward the docks, but it’ll be okay,” he reassured me.
I saw how his eyes snapped to and fro, sweeping the street around us. Gabe had been constantly vigilant since we’d stood near the river. He was paranoid about something, but it was starting to seem like it was more than just my status as a living soul. It almost looked like he was searching for someone specific, but I knew if I asked him outright, he’d dodge my question. I knew he thought he was brushing off my questions easily enough, and I knew my chatter was probably wearing thin, but it was a calculated move. The sort of breezy, flighty thing worked on most men, or at least on earthly men, and it was the things Gabe wasn’t saying that were telling enough. I knew he was hiding more than one big secret, I knew he hadn’t just happened upon me at the river, and I knew there was more than one thing we were running from. I had the impression that Gabe was on the run from something bigger than both of us, some kind of situation he’d managed to get himself in even before I arrived. I was going to get it out of him, eventually. Like it or not, I needed him, and he’d been an ally so far. I needed him with me, and I didn’t want him to be distracted.
The cobblestone streets were winding and disorienting, like a Burton-esque nightmare that zigged and zagged with no apparent order. Everything seemed slick with perpetual drizzle, and I slipped more than once while we headed toward the docks. I noted a thick sludge lake in the distance, the color of the water as crude and black as motor oil. Even that seemed desperate and greedy like it would suck you under and strip the meat from your bones happily. Greed was bitter and ugly and just as gluttonous as the other circle, but it was meaner. The city was a fitting place for the sin.
Just before we hit the weathered boards of the dockside district, a small street urchin approached me and tugged on my long black skirt. I looked down, and he held out a hat toward me, Oliver Twist-style.
“Please, ma’am, anything for me?” he said with a little sniff. He looked pitiful, and the skin under his nose was chapped from countless runny noses.
“I, uh, I don’t have anything.” I winced, feeling awful as I stared at his thin, dirty face. “I—”
“Don’t talk to it,” Gabe said sternly, pulling me gently along by the collar.
“Please, miss,” the little boy said. He smiled, and it seemed to split his face in half. “We don’t need money. What about time? What about your eyes?” As he spoke, he turned into a demon, splitting out and up from the little boy’s form like an ill-fitting costume.
Gabe hurried me along faster. “Don’t look at it, Marnie. Don’t speak to it. Keep your head down. Everything here wants something from you. It’s all greed, and remember… Hell doesn’t just require something of monetary value, either.”
I slammed my eyes shut, doing as he asked. I let Gabe practically haul me along, my feet flying over the cobblestones as he did. For a moment, I felt out of control of my own body, and I was grateful he was there to push—more like pull—me forward. The sights I had seen in Gluttony were terrifying enough, but to see a child like that had thrown me entirely out of whack. It took several moments for the cold chill to run its course in my veins and for my heart to stop hammering.
We practically jogged to the dockside, which was a lot more lively than the shopping district. It seemed a little more like a jaunty, sea-faring town rather than the dour scene before. Pubs and restaurants lined the weathered wooden boardwalk, which stretched along the length of the gray, colorless shore. The strains of hundreds of drinkers and different pub bands rang out in a cacophony from every window and doorway. A woman screamed, then laughed nearby. I heard the shatter of glass and then more laughter.
The building closest to us was called the Abyss. A masthead of a huge-breasted octopus woman was carved above the doorway, her eyes painted a solid black. Beside her, two gargoyles loomed over the rest of the entrance. Each statue had at least a dozen giant fish hooks pierced through it.
