Page 127 of An Unexpected Ascension
The voice of a woman responds from beyond the wood. I yank on the lock, tugging to test my strength and break the metal.
“Ada is that you?”
“Yes. I’m Ada,” the woman replies. “Who are you?”
I can feel the tension in this dungeon. An unseeable force of taught air like a blockade of some sort. Closing my eyes, I try picturing myself inside her room. I conjure images of red hair, of damp concrete, of chains and torment.
But nothing happens.
It’s almost as if my magic doesn’t work here.
Instead, I decide to try the key. Lifting the large black lock from the hinge it hangs on, I jam the key into the hole and wriggle it around until it turns. There’s a loud click as I tug, unlatching it from the door before yanking the heavy thing open.
Finally, it’s her. Red hair dulled with dirt, a face pained and bruised as if the Gods have willed the wounds to stay, her hazel eyes so bleak. In a tangle lay her boney limbs on a cement floor, her figure doused in a darkness no other parts of Primordialis has ever seen.
Wide, frightened eyes meet mine as she shuffles back along the floor, pushing herself into the wall. Her arms fold across her chest to hold herself, the only comfort she’s grown used to.
I hold both hands up and lower myself into a crouch to face her. Hazel eyes stare back at me, only they’re not the eyes I’ve come to know from the pictures and memories of the Devil. No, these eyes I find before me are dark. Every bit of light, of happiness, of hope has been sucked dry leaving a lifeless soul reflecting back.
“Ada, I’m not here to hurt you. I’ve come to take you home, to Lucifer.”
She shakes her head. The blackened ends of her fiery red hair sway along her shoulders with the movement. Dirt cakes those ends,gluing chunks of her hair together, then coat her bare shoulders hiding freckles showing on cleaner patches of skin that haven’t seen the light of day in ages.
“I’m here to save you.”
The sound of footsteps echoes overhead in a loud warning. Her eyes dart to the door as her fingers begin to shake. I can hear two males talking and laughing drunkenly. Their words muffled by the thick stone and heavy door.
“They’re coming,” she whispers, her body shivering in fear.
“Then we must go.” I step forward, but she flinches, causing my heart to stumble. “I promise I will not hurt you. I only want to bring you home.”
“Home.” She says the word like it’s foreign.
I nod and she studies me wearily with haunted eyes. The voices continue above us, leading me to believe that they might be a very big problem.
Crouching down, I try the key on the cuffs that hug her wrists and ankles. They fall noisily, clattering to the ground. Ada flinches and finds my eyes with sheer terror, but I only slip my arms beneath her bent knees and haul her to my chest. The white silk camisole slips up along her thighs, revealing colorful bruises that mar her pale, translucent skin. With dirt crusted fingers, she pulls the hem down as far as it will go, and I avert my eyes to give her as much privacy as having her in my arms will allow.
I find those gaunt eyes, circles dark and deep beneath them.
“Let’s go home,” I tell her.
Hesitantly, she wraps her arms around my neck, and I carry her out into the narrow hallway. As I ascend the stairs, I listen carefully for the voices. I just need to get out of this dungeon to be able to blink us back to Hell.
After what feels like ages, the kitchen beyond the door quiets, allowing us to slip out and finally go home.
Chapter 39
The Angel
The wait for Lucifer’s wife was nearly killing him, and the wait to be okay with existing was nearly killing me. So, together we sparred for every minute Lynx was gone.
This time, Lucifer trains me with a sword. The weapon is heavy and awkward to wield. After the first hour, my arms ache. After the second hour, I finally get the hang of it, and after the third, my body screams with exhaustion.
Needless to say, I lose every round.
Sweat coats my hair, my face, my neck. It seeps down into my leathers, hardly soaking into the material. Yet, we keep going until we’re boneless and desperate for air.
Finally, my body gives out. My sword clatters to the ground and I drop, lying on my back. I heave as I stare at the stone ceiling of the training room, my eyes blurry with sweat.
