Reed shifts off of me. He leans against the frozen dirt wall and uses the blade of a sword to reflect the area above us. The house is completely gone. It’s reduced to ashes that float around us like snow. In its place is a gigantic gaping hole to another world—a hellscape I only glimpsed once before. I peek over the edge of the trench. It’s as if our world is a solemn, ethereal landscape painting that’s been torn to reveal a dark, sinister masterpiece with blood-red skies underneath. It’s something out of a Bosch nightmare. I cover my mouth as the reek of Sheol hits us all at once. I have to choke back my gag. It is so bad it makes the Trolls smell like perfume.
In the Sheol sky, legion upon legion of fallen angels fly. There’s every type of fallen angel, from Seraphim to Reaper, swirling around in the putrid air. Even with their ability to fly, some angels ride upon the backs of enormous dragons whose scales shine like embers. Dark-winged bulls with polished black horns and hooves ferry other evil angels on their backs. Some Fallen have harnessed teams of powder-white mothmen to carry them in gilded chariots across the sky. Vulgar creature mashups of man and beast hurtle toward the open doorway to our world.
Finding Emil among the fallen angels is impossible. They darken the sky like locusts. The sheer numbers I’m seeing of my enemy is horrifyingly bigger than what I could ever imagine. But they’re not just angels and demons. Evil souls numbering in the hundreds of thousands are being set free from Sheol. They’re spirits—bodiless evil entities—until they find a human host here to possess and inhabit. Once that happens, they’ll be powerful with the ability to maim and kill. We’re outnumbered at least a thousand to one in this fight. My little army doesn’t stand a chance against the malevolence coming for us.
“We have to close Sheol,” I whisper to Reed. “If you give me the boatswain, then I’ll do it automatically—I think—I hope—this hole will collapse before they get here!” I hold out my hand to him for the whistle.
His hand moves to where the whistle lies beneath his armor. He covers it, making no move to give it to me. “If I do, you could get trapped on the other side and slaughtered by them.”
Russell crawls over to where Reed and I crouch in the trench. “We need to pool our energy, Red, and come up with a spell to kill the apocalypse of evil that’s about to crash in on us.” He calls out to Brennus and Finn who are giving orders to the fellas to prepare to leave the trenches and storm the field. “Hey! Brothers Grim! Do you mind helpin’ us out with some magic?”
Brennus scowls at him, but moves closer to us. Finn has never been more than a few yards from me, always protecting my back from Gancanagh and Trolls behind us. It’s a very precarious position to be in. My army could turn on me at any time if they feel they have a better chance of coming out of this alive. And right now, I kind of wouldn’t blame them.
Brennus crouches down in front of me. “I’m going ta give ye energy, mo chroí. Ye have to accept it as yer due. Channel it inside ye and hold on ta it. Do na hurl it away in a spell. Make it part of ye.” Brennus holds out his hands. He channels his energy into me. It’s painful and pleasurable; I hate the duality of it. Finn joins him. His energy is contrary to his brothers’. Whereas Brennus’ energy is power and dominance, Finn’s is playful and effervescent. Russell puts out his hands to me. I feel his energy flow inside my body and it’s like the feeling I get when I hear my favorite song. When they all drop their hands, I stretch my arms out to the sides because I cannot seem to hold them down. I’m not anchored to the ground. I levitate in the air, defying gravity. Without the use of my wings, I lift out of the trench. Reed is by my side, flying next to me. My movement out of the trench signals my army into action. The hoard of mythical creatures behind me catapults out of the trenches, running over the torched ground toward the invading evil.
Now I know how Emil creates such devastating magic. He’s basically doping off of other beings’ energy like I just did. Knowing this, I whisper a magic spell to conjure fire. Aiming it at Sheol, I ratchet up the pain when I control the flames like an extension of myself instead of a cannon ball let loose. White-hot light burns through the clouds, connecting with the swarms of beasts on the other side of the divide. Clear paths of red sky ripples through the vile creatures. Angelic figures catch fire and fall in flames to Hell’s terrain.
Fallen angels pour over the divide because I can’t stop them all. Flying low to the ground, Sheol’s angels hatchet Gancanagh, severing heads from bodies. Automatic weapons fire rings in the air. Bombs explode falling angel carcasses from the air in a color array of magic. I switch my tactic. Instead of burning the skies, I try to narrow the gap. This will force them to enter our world in a smaller, more manageable way that will enable us to cut them down easier the moment they cross over the divide between worlds.