Page 121 of Soul of a Witch

“A gate without a fence?” I said. “Why?”

“The fence is there,” Callum said. “Focus. Feel the crackle in the air, the heat? If anyone were to try to step around the gate, they would never enter Hell. They would wander through wastelands forever, with no way to return.”

“And will the gates open for anyone?”

“No. The gates open for the powerful. Whether that power is greatly wicked or greatly good is irrelevant. Hell craves power, it craves strength. This world carries far more magic than the human realm, and all that magic is very hungry.”

The magic was palpable, it was thick in the air and sweet on my tongue.

As the great gates opened before us, swinging back on hinges that groaned and howled like Hell’s most wicked creatures, a smile spread over my face.

43

Callum

I was home. Of my own accord, of my own free will. I had finally come home.

My body was light, unburdened by all the flesh and blood required in the human world. Buoyed by magic and freed from the weight of Earth’s gravity.

Hell was freedom; at least, it was always meant to be. That was what we’d fought for. We would not be ruled by gods, we would not be subjugated to the rules and whims of any deity. The rules we had in Hell — and there were very few — were sacred, but they were sparing.

The air rippled as we stepped through the gates, thrumming like a plucked harp string. The pale grass rustled, brushing against my fingertips like the softest feathers. Everly gasped as we passed the gates, the new world around her coming into focus. A forest of gnarled trees, with long knotted branches that stretched low to the ground, spread out before us. Their bark was the color of ice, and deep green vines sprouting clear berries in tiny clusters coiled up the trunks.

Everly’s steps slowed, her eyes wide with wonder as she looked around. “Oh…my god…”

She stopped walking entirely when she spotted a tiny fluffy creature scuttling up one of the trees. Eyeballs lined its back on little stalks, looking in every direction at once as it quickly hid itself among the leaves.

I allowed the nervous creature to climb onto my hand. It had suckered feet that stuck to my skin, and I brought it close so Everly could see. Her eyes were bright with wonder, her smile so wide it was like she had forgotten entirely why we were here.

Honestly, I hoped she had. I treasured every little moment of unbridled happiness I saw in her. Happiness that had been denied to her for so long.

“We call them pips,” I said, as she watched the little creature crawl along my arm. “Just be careful not to scare it. If they’re startled —”

But Everly reached her hand out to pet the creature a bit too quickly. It vanished, leaving behind a sparkling golden cloud that made Everly begin to sneeze uncontrollably.

“I tried to warn you.” I chuckled as she doubled over, leaning her hand against a tree as she continued to sneeze.

Once she’d recovered, I took her hand and said, “Hold tight.”

Her fingers squeezed around mine, and I teleported, pulling her with me. By the time we touched the ground again, the sky was overcast and the sound of crashing waves filled the air. The ground beneath our feet was shining black rock, dotted with large crystalline structures the color of emeralds. Everly’s mouth gaped open as she stared over the cliffside, where the waves of the Black Sea churned and crashed far below.

Gargantuan trees rose out of the sea, their trunks covered in green crystals that matched the same dark color of their massive leaves. Their roots reached all the way to the sea floor, creating a home for the numerous creatures that lived below the waves.

Everly’s voice was breathless with disbelief. “Callum, it’s beautiful.”

It had been so long I’d almost forgotten, but it truly was. As we watched the waves, a spined iridescent fin rose above the water, glistening in the sun before the massive serpent beneath plunged back into the depths. Everly’s breath stuttered, silent as she took it all in.

I kept waiting for the pain to return. The memories, the grief. But when I looked at her, the ache inside me couldn’t grow into agony.

“Turn around,” I said. “There’s more to see.”

Her eyes were wide as she turned and saw Dantalion for the first time. The High City towered over the rocky plains, its towers formed of black stone crawling with dark green vines. The Onyx Citadel rose above it all, shrouded in clouds and fog, its windows glowing with warm light.

“Can we go closer?” she gasped. “Can we go into the city?”

With a smile, I took her hand again and teleported us to the main boulevard.

Pale gray stones paved the road, bordered by tall willow-like trees that blossomed with bloodred flowers. Demons and human spirits lounged outside cafes, sipping liquors and herbal concoctions, the sounds of laughter and boisterous conversation echoing amongst the towering buildings. The shops here offered numerous things for trade: rare and uncommon plants, gems and jewelry, garments, furnishings, art, even beasts.

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