Page 33 of Hell Sent

She held his hand in both of hers, her thumbs pressing down on the edges of his palm. He felt hyperaware of her touch: the temperature of her fingers, the texture of her skin, and the tiny movements of muscles and tendons in her hands. Her hands were cold from the early morning air, and her fingers were thin but dexterous and precise in their movements.

“It looks much the same,” she said thoughtfully. “Unfortunate.”

He watched the top of her head as she tilted his hand to let the faint runes catch the light. “Why is that unfortunate?”

She shrugged, releasing his hand. “I had hoped it might start to fade. The enchantment wasn’t completed, after all, so it was possible it wouldn’t hold. But it looks like the gods haven’t favored us.”

“Have the gods ever favored us?” he asked dryly.

She laughed. Another odd, nervous feeling went through him at the sound.“No, I think not.”

He didn’t realize until afterward that he’d called themus.He had never been part of anusbefore.

* * *

It wasnight when they finally arrived in the city of Ontag-ul, and water was falling from the sky.

He first noticed it when something tapped against one of his horns. He reached up to brush it away, thinking it was an insect, and his hand came away wet. When he looked up, he realized there were tiny drops of liquid pelting the ground around him. He reached for Raiya’s arm.

“It’s rain,” she said, having already guessed the reason for his alarm. “Another thing you don’t have in the hells?”

He looked up, trying to find the origin of the water. The open, cloudy sky sprawled above them.“Is it a magical anomaly?” he asked, thinking of the bursts of dangerous, chaotic magic that occasionally appeared in the hells.

Raiya smiled. She never tired of his questions about her plane. She was what mortals called an academic: a person devoted to study. At first, he’d thought she would look down on him for his ignorance. But after a while, he’d realized that she seemed to like people who asked questions more than people who didn’t. “No. It’s a gift from Astra from when she created the world. We’d die without it.”

“Then it’s not dangerous?”

“Not if you don’t get stuck in it for too long.”

Ontag-ul was even more populated than the Roamer camp had been, but with more space, and more alcoves and pathways to take refuge in. It was darker and quieter, and he could go unnoticed more easily, observing its inhabitants from a safe distance. He liked it better here.

When he said as much, Raiya replied, “Or maybe you’ve just become accustomed to being around mortals. We don’t frighten you anymore.”

“I was never frightened,” he said evenly.

“Perhaps you’re just starting to like our plane, then.”

“No.”

She just hummed noncommittally.

He had to admit that he found the city fascinating. Their buildings were made of tree matter, bundled grasses, and clay tiles. Stone paths snaked through tight outdoor corridors lit by hanging lanterns and torches. It smelled wet and green and alive. Dark green trees and vines crowded around the buildings, as if the city had sprouted from a garden. Maybe it had? He had no idea how mortal cities came to be.

The place was filled with wild plants, colorful draping fabric and tooled leather, and stones with inlaid bits of metal. It reminded him of the Roamers’ tents and carpets and clothing, all made with a huge variety of patterns of color and texture.

It all made him feel mildly frustrated in the same way the Roamer camp had frustrated him. “This city is not very defensible, aside from the wall,” he commented.

“I think it’s very pretty,” Raiya replied.

“Pretty?”

She gestured around them. “The architecture. The plants. Do you have artists in the hells?”

The word floated in his mind, lacking form. He understood it, but not really. “What is an artist?”

Raiya’s face pinched ever so slightly. She pitied him. She often looked at him like this, though she tried to hide it.

“It’s a person who makes beautiful things for a living,” she explained. She pointed to the intricate wooden lattice that covered the window of the building beside them. “These details serve no defensive purpose. They exist just to be beautiful. Because they’re nice to look at, and they make you feel at home. Things like that are made by artists and artisans.”

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