Fate's Demand (Twisted Fate, Book 3)

Chapter Forty-One

I was annoyed to find Deryk's face in front of mine the next time I became aware.

It could have only been a few minutes or surely someone else would have shown up to help. Not that I thought I was that important or the Dark Souls were that good, but that's what happened when someone crashed, right? Even if it was Hell. Somebody comes to check on you. They'd be too curious about the damage not to.

"Leave me alone," I groaned, pushing Deryk's hands away when he tried to pry open my eyes.

My legs flailed through the air in front of me as I tried to propel my body up. Even when I was finally vertical, I felt like I was hanging upside down. Swaying, I bent at the waist to rest my hands on my knees and coughed, the dust I'd inhaled making my throat so raw, I couldn't swallow.

"Are you okay?"

"I-I feel hung over." Deryk's face swam in my vision and his voice echoed in my head.

"Yeah. Sorry," he said. "The first time down is a little rough."

"You think?" I forced myself to my feet, unsteady and not at all sure they were still attached until I managed to balance myself. "A little rough is shopping at Christmas, Deryk. This was a descent into Hell!"

"Not quite."

I stopped slapping my butt in a poor attempt to dislodge the dirt that had embedded into the fabric of my jeans. I hadn't even brought clothes. Did astral projections change outfits?

"We aren't in Hell yet," Deryk continued.

"What are you talking about?" I stood straight and looked around. Who cared about clothes when they realized they were somewhere adjacent to Hell? Smarten up. "This is where I came in my dreams. This is Hell."

"No." He shook his head. "This isn't, trust me. Hell is... dark, and very, very cold. There's like, levels of damnation, I guess. The Dark Souls?" Deryk squinted, weighing his hands like they were a scale balancing uneven proportions, and then stood straight and smiled. "They are technically pure, so they don't get to enter Hell."

"But—what?" I shook my head. Had I hit it in the descent? This was crazy. "I don't get it."

Everything was as I had seen it before: the stone earth intermittently broken up with pools of spitting lava, a dark sky, and the foreboding building made of black, skin-tearing sharp edges. This was Hell; it had to be. I couldn't imagine there was anything worse.

"Follow me before someone comes to check on us," he said and began walking towards the black building, and I wasn't sure I wanted to follow. "Trust me. You do not want people coming to check on you. If I learned anything from life—then death—it's that you should never let anything happen unless it's on your terms." Deryk looked back, smiled, and continued walking. "But you already know that, don't you?"

"What do you mean?" His words urged me into compliance.

If I follow his steps exactly, I won't get burnt.

"The potion. You went and asked the Brothers about Renalda, right? That's why you agreed to come."

"I'm not stupid," I said, though talking about it made me realize I was.

The potion was gone.

It broke. The liquid within the vial spilled inside my bedroom. How would I get it back if I had no way to get to my body?

Alyssa, stay calm. Don't let on there's a problem and you'll keep what little power you think you hold.

Right.