To Hell and Back by L.B. Gilbert

Chapter Forty-Three

Ravenna cut her finger, squeezing several drops of blood into an earthenware jar before she signaled Naveen.

“The gate will slam shut only when this vessel is cracked over the circle,” she said, placing a lid on the jar before she handed it to him.

He took the jar from her hands “How much longer?”

Her cheek twitched. “Give me a minute,” she rasped, blinking and turning away.

Naveen nodded, understanding that the spell was done. But the witch needed a few moments before triggering it.

Pity welling, he left her to join his men. Every able-bodied dragon would join this fight except for Eliana. The elder had been a general in her day, and her skills in close-quarter combat were still sharp. But her endurance was flagging in her old age, so she’d been the natural choice to stay behind with Sanaa and the children. Naveen was confident Sanaa would be safe should the worst happen.

As for Sanaa’s mate, Rhys had given Thomas another task.

Naveen and Rhys also knew that they couldn’t leave a portal to Sheol unguarded. The men under them had drawn straws. Jerik had been selected to guard the opening from the Sheol side.

The junior was angry at being left out of the fight, but he hadn’t argued. No matter what happened, they could not allow any of the inhabitants to come through the door to Earth.

As for the other threat, Rhys had decided that Thomas would handle it.

Naveen took the jar and handed it to him.

“How the hell do you expect me to stop an Elemental from slamming the door shut if one shows up?” Thomas asked.

Rhys came up behind him, clapping him on the back. “Charm? I’ve heard it works wonders.”

The bear’s growl filled the air.

“The Elementals are tied in with the fabric of reality in this realm,” Rhys said, breaking the bad news. “It is inevitable that one will appear.”

“And if they want to close the door, what the hell am I supposed to do? Throw myself on that grenade? Death before dishonor?”

“Of course not,” Rhys said. “Just tell the truth. And hope for mercy.”

“And if they don’t show and you fail? “

“Jerik will come back through with whoever survives. Once he’s back through, that’s it. You close the door.”

“Even if you don’t come back through it?” the bear rumbled.

“The men will. They have their orders,” Rhys said, his eyes distant. “As for me, I come back with Valeria or not at all.”

He’d already said as much during their strategy session with the rest of the wing, but hearing it again hit Naveen just as hard as the first time.

The bear’s reaction surprised him a bit. Thomas growled, crossing his arms. “Don’t let it come to that.”

When Naveen turned to question him, the bear sniffed. “Sanaa would be upset.”

The corner of Rhys’ mouth lifted. At his signal, Jerik began to hand out pots of paint. The men passed them around, putting their fingers in and beginning to draw symbols on their skin.

“What are those markings? Runes?” Thomas asked, his nose wrinkling in distaste. “Are they supposed to protect you?”

“No. We write the names of our ancestors on our bodies before going into battle,” Naveen replied, as he drew both his grandsires’ names down his arms.

“So, it’s more of a prayer?” Thomas scrunched up his face, squinting at the complicated design taking shape under Naveen’s hand.

“I suppose, in a way.”

The designs were fresh but almost dry when Ravenna motioned him over.

“I may need some help,” she said in a low voice, handing him one of the ceremonial blades.

His face tightened. “Does it have to be a painful death?” he asked quietly.

Ravenna met his eyes before turning quickly away. “It does. The more violent, the better.”

It made a terrible sort of sense. “I see.”

He glanced down at the blade, his discomfort making itself felt in the sudden roiling in his stomach. Killing the innocent went against the code of the Draconai, and his personal code as well.

“Never mind.” Ravenna snatched back the knife.

“What’s going on?” Rhys asked, looking over from his position by the men.

The witch’s gaze darted back and forth between him and the knife. She stepped into the center of the circle, then gripped the blade with both hands. Ravenna raised it high before plunging it into her gut.

“What the—”

Rhys ran forward, ready to intervene. Naveen jumped in front of him, blocking him with a hand to the chest. “My apologies, my first, but you can’t stop this. There is no other way to open the door.”

His leader looked at him, shock and incredulity deepening the lines in his face. “But we can’t let her die.”

“Then the door stays shut,” Ravenna panted, going to her knees. She pulled the blade out, her hand shaking as she flung drops of blood across the intricate design around her.

The lines of the circle shifted, the blood triggering a conformational change in the sigils.

With sluggish movements, Ravenna sat in the middle of the circle. Naveen winced as she used both her hands to arrange her legs in a lotus position. Given the way her shirt and pants had been soaked with blood, it was an unsettling sight.

Red bubbled from the witch’s mouth, the distinctive rattle that signaled death beginning faster than he would have guessed. Perhaps the witch had tainted the blade with poison to help herself along. He hoped so.

“Ravenna, why?” Rhys snapped, his fire close at hand. “We could have found another way.”

“There isn’t…one,” she replied. “Trust me.”

“We could have asked one of the Elementals.”

Ravenna laughed, her eyes sparkling with amused condescension. “Break…of the covenant. But now it’s…on me…take care of…my girl.”

Rhys passed a hand over his eyes. Naveen put his hand on his leader’s shoulder.

And they waited.

“She’s not even her real daughter,” Thomas muttered in a subvocal whisper Ravenna couldn’t hear. He was staring at the spilled blood with a green cast to his skin. The bear hunted because his beast demanded it, but he didn’t like the sight of blood.

“Ravenna is the only mother Valeria knows,” Naveen pointed out, his loyalty with the witch now. “We must let her act as such and make the most of her sacrifice.”

He didn’t lower his voice. Ravenna was past hearing them. The veil passed over her eyes, the life leaving them like sand running out from between a child’s fingers.

Behind them the door snapped open, a shimmering hole cut out of the universe. On the other side was the lifeless wasteland from their memories.

Rhys bent over the witch carefully, making sure not to disturb the runes. He closed her eyes.

“Remember, when the Elemental comes, speak the truth,” he said, his back to them.

Thomas swallowed audibly, but he murmured his agreement.

Strapping weapons in the special holster that would lie across his back in his other form, Rhys walked to the front of the wing. Naveen took his first’s wrist, wrapping the necklace Ravenna crafted to track Valeria around his wrist, leaving it loose so the shift wouldn’t snap the tie. Then he took his position behind him to his right while Veda took the left.

Naveen suppressed a shudder as Rhys walked through the doorway. But their ancient enemy didn’t fall out of the sky to rain down hell on him. That’s what we’ll be doing to him.

“Hey!” Thomas called after them. “How am I supposed to explain the dead witch to them?”

Naveen turned back at the threshold. “As quickly as you can.”

Then he followed Rhys back into hell.