“In all of them, actually.” Although what was so wrong with Verus sitting down and explaining everything to me like a normal person? I mean, other than breaking her promise to my mother, which she basically did anyway. Sneaky Verus.
Walker points to the spot on the desert floor where the bunker entrance is hidden. “We’ll need four people to stand at each of the four points of the compass. When your four sets of hands touch the sand at the same time, a circle of fire will appear. The bunker door will slowly rise from there.”
Cissy chews her fingernail. “Do we need gloves or anything?”
Walker shakes his head. “The bunker’s encased in angel fire to block pure demons. It won’t burn you.”
I open my mouth, ready to say that the bunker’s fire never burned me in my dreamscapes. Then I realize I’m a soul-swapping part-archangel super-being who may not be subject to the typical laws of physics. I sigh. My ongoing quest of personal discovery has officially hit a dead end. I know who I am, the Scala Heir, but I’m not too excited about that fact. Moving souls? Becoming a target for every creep who wants to rule the afterlife? Being more of a freak than I was already? Not sure I’m up for any of that. Staying hidden sounds like a great plan, maybe a permanent one.
Mom sets her hands on her hips. “The bunker protects from ghoul or demon attacks. If quasis and ghouls are inside, then ghouls can create portals in and out. If no ghouls are within, quasis open the main door manually.”
Lincoln lets out an appreciative ‘humph.’ “Clever security system.”
“There’s more cool stuff here.” Raising his hand, Walker flips to another map. This one shows the bunker’s interior. “There’s an antechamber and a main room inside. Both places have enough food, water, and clothing to last a few months at least. The main chamber also has a communications console and a periscope to the desert floor.”
Walker points to Cissy and Zeke. “Once you open the bunker doors and get inside, Tim will create a portal to take you home.” Walker turns to my mother. “Meanwhile, Camilla will set up the communications console so we’re connected to the outside world. Myla, Lincoln, and I will meet you in the main chamber at 6 AM.” Walker sets his long arms into the folds of his robe. “I believe that covers everything. Any questions?”
Only about a million. Where will the angels send me to hide? What happens if Armageddon invades Purgatory? When will I see Lincoln, my friends, and family again? And, my new personal favorite: Can we get someone else to be the Scala Heir?
Every muscle in my body overflows with nervous energy. I stare at my hands, opening and closing them over and over.
Walker clears his throat. “Myla?”
I snap out of my thoughts and look up. “Yeah?” That’s when I realize it. Everyone in the room stares at me, and probably has been for some time. A flush creeps up my neck. Am I supposed to give a speech or something? This Scala Heir stuff is total bullshit. “I mean, what was the question again?”
Mom tilts her head to one side, her expression gentle. “Are we ready to go?”
Oh, I didn’t realize that was my call. I slap on what I hope is a super-confident face. “Yes, absolutely. Let’s go. Cissy, Zeke, Tim, and Mom open the bunker. Walker, Lincoln, and I go the Arena. Then Walker takes me to the bunker. Yeah.”
Dammit. I remember the awful speech I gave to Lincoln at the fountain. That one looks like genuine oratory compared to the nugget of crap that just fell from my lips.
Lincoln slips his warm hand into mine. “Together, we can do anything, Myla.”
I inhale a deep breath. I hope so, Lincoln.
***
I stumble out of the portal, landing in one of the Arena’s darkened archways. Light flickers in from the stadium floor, casting odd shadows on the rock walls. Lincoln and Walker step out next, appearing a few feet behind me.
The Prince sets his hand on Walker’s shoulder. “Before we go further, I want to thank you for taking such good care of Myla and her mother. I only asked you to deliver a few messages, and you’ve gone above and beyond.”
My heart warms. Walker’s always so awesome and I never thank him enough. Stepping up to his side, I arch my feet onto my tippy-toes and kiss him gently on the cheek. “I can’t believe it, this could be our last Arena match together.” I look up at the ceiling, trying to calculate. “The first time you snuck me in here was, what, eight years ago?” I smile, remembering how Walker portaled me in on the sly, saying in that low voice of his: ‘you may be called to serve one day.’ Together, we watched a Viperon demon fight. I was instantly hooked.
Stepping backwards, I rock on my heels, smiling at the memory. Then I realize that it’s quiet in the hallway. Waaaaaaay too quiet.
Walker and Lincoln face one another, their expressions unreadable. There’s a long pause accentuated by gentle pit-pat of condensation off the uneven stone.
Huh. What’s going on here?