Woo-freaking-hoo. Relief and excitement course through me. Adair’s buying into my lie. She really believes that she needs all of my igni. And asking for the purpose of my visit? That means she wants to know what I’m willing to trade for them. Even though I realize Adair’s listening in, I keep up the pretense that I can’t hear her. Who knows? If she doesn’t know her voice is live, she might blab something useful in the background.
“Please tell Adair that we can play cat-and-mouse for years, with her trying to get the last of my powers. But there are millions of souls that need to be moved in the next twenty-four hours. I want to make a trade. I give Adair my igni, and she promises to move all of Purgatory’s spirits as their trial verdicts dictate, including me, when I’m ready.”
There’s a burst of static on the line, followed by a quick answer from the Agent. “You are both accepted for transfer. Step onto the platform.”
My heart lightens. Adair gave in mighty quickly on that last request. She must be freaking out by now. Most likely, she’s been trying to move souls for hours without any success. I’m sure she’s gotten pretty sick of the screechy rock concert going on inside her head, too. My educated guesses are falling into place.
Here comes the last one.
I fold my arms over my chest. “Not so fast. I have a final condition. Adair cannot possess Lincoln during our visit. If I so much as see a flicker of demon-red in Lincoln’s eyes, then I’m zapping the rest of my igni to Heaven, where she’ll never get them back. My father will store them right beside Lucifer’s Orb for all eternity, or at least until Adair is stone dead. Do we understand each other?”
What an outrageous pack of lies. I’m guessing that Adair doesn’t know enough about igni to realize what a load of crap I just shoveled her way. I can send my igni on a visit to Heaven or Hell, sure. But no one can actually contain them other than the Scala.
The quiet gets downright annoying. “I said, do we have a deal?”
“Yes. Get on the platform.”
“Excellent.” I try my best to sound confident, but I won’t really know if my bluff worked until we reach our destination. Once we hit the Antrum transfer station, Lincoln should be close enough to Adair that she would make him demon-eyed, if she chose.
A fresh round of adrenaline hits me. This is happening, really happening.
Lincoln and I cross the room, stand on the metallic disc, and rest our arms on each other’s shoulders.
Time to go.
Like before, Lincoln states his command to the navigational system. “Launch transfer on my mark. 3, 2, 1.”
With a roar, the platform hurtles through the ceiling on a roller-coaster ride to the earth’s surface. We speed through rock, water and soil, lurching as our platform avoids immoveable objects. A short time later, we emerge in another deserted Pulpitum. This one’s in a blackened cave with a few measly grey ceiling-crystals to serve as light. The transfer station is half rubble, covered in lichen, and marked with signs saying ‘Mercor Temple’.
We’re here.
Chapter Twenty-One
Lincoln and I step off the Pulpitum platform in Antrum. A massive cave surrounds us; it’s made entirely of dark stone. The ground is filled with ancient-looking trees and a half-ruined temple. Now that we’ve arrived, one thought consumes me.
My last big lie to Adair was that I could zap my igni to Heaven if she overtook Lincoln’s mind. Did she buy it? Or, did she only say ‘yes’ to get Lincoln closer to her powers?
I turn to face Lincoln, cup his face in my hands, and exhale a sigh of relief. His eyes are still mismatched. No demon-red glow. Adair totally bought my story. I’ve never appreciated the ghouls, but man, do I ever at this moment.
Thank you, oh Ghouls, for so thoroughly destroying every last scrap of information about the Great Scala. You’ve made it possible for me to lie my ass off today.
A dozen Acca guards stand around us in a semi-circle. None of their eyes are red, so they’re helping Adair of their own free will. Traitors. More faces for my to-destroy list when and if we get out of this.
The Acca Captain grunts the word ‘go’ at Lincoln and me, so we follow him away from the transfer platform to a long, jagged ledge of rock. There, the Captain raises his arm. Our group pauses.
All the guards stare at Lincoln and me, their eyes filled with an eager loathing. The air hangs heavy with anticipation. Like smoke, it constricts my lungs, making it hard to breathe. My tail coils behind me, cobra-like, waiting to strike.
I hate moments like this. We’re trapped in the great pause before a greater battle. Bring it on, already.
Leaning forward, I scope out the grounds beyond the stone ledge. A steep incline rolls down below us. At the base of this slope, a wide valley opens up. The shadowy space is filled with a huge, broken-down ruin.
I picture the sign from the Pulpitum. Mercor Temple. This is the place. Here things will end with Adair, one way or another.
The Captain holds out his hands. “Baculum.”