“I almost forgot,” I say. “He’s taking us to the secret passageway and the Veil of Fire.”
Nefer nods. “Too bad his vines can’t go straight into the throne room. Still, once we pass the Veil of Fire, he can deposit us there easily.”
I smile from ear to ear. We’re talking about the throne room. We’re getting closer to Maxon. “Nefer, I can’t thank you en—”
The entire left wall of the prison implodes. Rocks and debris fly everywhere. A horde of Insectus demons charge through the fresh opening, killing hysterical inmates as they wipe across the prison block.
Nefer reaches for my baculum. “May I?”
I stare at her, dumbfounded. “Sure.”
She takes the two silver rods, one in reach hand, and ignites them as short-swords. Her huge black wings extend over her shoulders and within seconds, she’s airborne and moving with a speed and grace I’d only seen my father wield. Her body’s a blur as she dives over the oncoming Insectus demons, leveling whole groups with one great swoop. Kiya rides on her shoulder, chittering happily.
“Nefer!” I call. “What are you doing?”
“Buying you both time,” she says as she glides through the air. “And enjoying myself immensely.” She takes down another half-dozen guards with one twisting dive. “I’ll stay here and fight them off.”
I can’t deny that she’s doing an ace job of keeping the new guards near the explosion-hole, but I can’t let her fight them all alone. Lincoln hands me one of his baculum rods and ignites his remaining weapon as a short-sword. He doesn’t even need to ask me about this; we’re already of the same mind.
“Myla and I are coming over to he—”
Lincoln never finishes his sentence. At that moment, the floor explodes. Great vines burst from under our feet, wrapping Lincoln and I from head to toe. From across the prison block, Kiya and Nefer watch the slithering cords drag the pair of us into the ground. On reflex, I fight the sensation of being confined, but it’s no use. The pull of the vines is too powerful.
Thick cords wrap around my face, blinding me. Darkness surrounds me as I’m dragged deeper into Hell. As Lincoln and I disappear from the prison block, Nefer calls to us in a loud voice.
“Tell Anubis to wait for me in the secret passage by the Veil of Fire. We’ll meet you in the throne room!”
A grim voice inside me head says ‘if we ever get to the throne room.’ Honestly, we barely made it out of Nefer’s prison block alive.
# # #
The vines deposit us into a dark and snug passageway made of black stone. Anubis stands above us, holding a lit torch in his right hand. “Where is she?” he asks through panting breaths. “Where is Nefer?”
I slowly rise to my feet. “We freed her from prison, but she decided to stay behind and fight off the Insectus demons.”
Anubis’s brown eyes grow wide with shock. “Why would she do that?”
Lincoln sets his hand on Anubis’s shoulder. “To give us a chance to escape. She said she’d meet you here, in the secret passage, and then we’d all reunite in the throne room.”
Anubis slams his fist into the wall, cracking the shiny black stone into a web-pattern at the impact point. “No!”
He’s not taking it well, but I wouldn’t either, if I were him. “I’m sorry, Anubis. She just took to the air and didn’t give us any choice. We wanted to stay back and help her, but then your vines appeared.”
Anubis avoids my gaze, his mouth set into an angry line. He points down the hallway. “The Veil of Fire is that way.”
I step closer to him. “Anubis, I’m so—”
“Just go,” he says in a low voice.
Lincoln takes my hand in his. “Come with me, Myla.” He’s ignited his remaining baculum into a small torch, which casts a flickering light on the shiny stone walls.
“We’ll see you in the throne room, Anubis.”
The demigod shakes his head. When he speaks again, his voice is barely a whisper. “Just leave me.”
I don’t need to be told another time; Lincoln and I have work to do. We rush down the darkened passageway until a curtain materializes before us. Like the name indicated, the shifting fabric is made from glimmering yellow flame.
The Veil of Fire. We’ve reached it. Satisfaction winds through my chest, charging my body with hope and adrenaline.
“Do you think we’ll remember what we’re doing?” I ask. “When our personal hells start, I mean.”
“As in, will we still know it’s a test?”
“Yes. It will be easier if we know we’re in a trial.””
Lincoln exhales a long sigh. “We could, if we’re lucky.”
“But we’re never lucky, are we?”
“Not lately, that’s for certain.”
He gives my hand a squeeze. Together, we walk forward and into the shifting fabric of yellow flame.
Please, let us be lucky.
Chapter Eighteen