A Book of Dust and Breath

Chapter Forty One

The Companion nearest Max asked in a charming Turkish accent more appropriate to a beautiful little girl than one of the universe's most powerful warriors, "Have you ever been into Sheol?"

"I have been a Reaper since the dawn of man. I have experienced every torment of Hell."

She grabbed his wrist in iron fingers and forced him to stop and turn toward her. "What you experience in the flesh as a Reaper is one thing. Making an intentional crossing into Irkalla is something else, entirely."

"I can handle it." He turned to go and found himself on his knees, his wrist still in her grasp.

"You are a fool." She released him. He stood and looked down at her upturned face. The top of her head barely reached his chin.

He resisted the urge to rub his aching wrist. "I don't have time to waste."

"The gaining of wisdom is never a waste of time. You will not make it past the gate if you are unprepared."

"The gate is unguarded. It takes only bravery. I may be a fool, but I am no coward."

"The gate requires no guard. It takes bravery beyond measure. When you enter, you will be faced with your greatest fear, a dream so absolutely real you will have no memory of a time outside of it."

"And how do you suggest I prepare for this? I must face it. What will come will come."

"You must know yourself. You have been among the humans for too long. Like them, you have forgotten your divine origins."

"I will keep your warning in mind, companion." They began walking once more.

How could one truly know what their deepest fear was? Fear formed in layers of varying thickness. Not one existed without those beneath it and each drew further away from the core.

He was afraid of small closed spaces and fire, a thin sheen of discomfort, easily broken through.

He feared failing his father and the one who ruled him. His failure would mean pain for so many. Correction. His failure had meant pain for so many.

He feared an eternity of new lives, moving seamlessly from one to the next without end.

The painful clenching within his gut proved he was getting closer to the truth.

They passed through a labyrinth of black stone halls and into an open courtyard. The lack of walls or ceiling gave the impression of being outdoors, but the utter stillness of the air and totality of darkness, broken only by the torches held in stands on the stony ground implied they were in an enormous cavern. Max had never passed through this land, but he had no fear of wandering, lost. He could feel the pull of those in Irkalla who called for his presence. Whether those calls came from his wife and son, the souls seeking safe passage, or the demons who ruled there was unclear.

Open space gave way to a forest of bare black trees. Creatures like bats with red eyes and furless bodies hung from the branches, taking flight at their approach. The low growls of the Lycan created a sinuous, unending vibration around them.

The companions followed behind him, silent and strong. Their presence lent a comfort that propelled him forward and, for the first time, he understood the name of this group of elite, powerful, warriors.

A river of blood cascaded from a towering waterfall, swirling in gruesome, foamy waves. He walked upstream toward the cliff and turned to follow the ledge that led behind the falls. There, the swirling black vortex of the gate to Irkalla waited for them.

In her musical native tongue the one who had reprimanded him earlier gave an order and one of her sisters stepped through the gate. Three more followed in quick succession.

"We will stay here, to see no one interferes with your crossing from this side. May The Great I Am go with you."

With a deep breath, Max squared his shoulders and lifted his chin a fraction of an inch. He stepped into his greatest fear.