“Now what?” I ask, looking around. The Forest Gods come out of the carriage, but the Shadow Self doesn’t. Tuonen is already walking away and through an iron door.
“We introduce you to the crowd, we watch the match.”
He takes me to a section that overlooks the whole arena. Because this is all underground, it’s both a grand sight and claustrophobic, knowing that the blackness above is in fact a ceiling.
I want to sit down on the iron chairs stationed here, still woozy, but Death keeps me up.
“Ladies and Gentlemen,” Tuonen’s voice booms.
I look down at the ring and see him standing in the middle of it, skeletons holding torches all around him, a vintage looking microphone in his hands. “This is a very special Bone Match we’re holding tonight, in that not only are we holding multiple matches, from which the fighters will go on to better lives as Deadhands or Deadmaidens, but that we also get to introduce your new queen.” He swings his arm in dramatic flair, gesturing up to me. “Please welcome our new queen, Hanna, the new Goddess of Death.”
Ever had thousands and thousands of the worst people and creatures in the universe look at you all at once? It’s quite the feeling. My mouth goes dry, my blood runs cold. I’m scared as hell.
“Am I supposed to say something?” I ask Death out of the side of my mouth. “Should I do the queen wave?”
I put my hand up halfway and wave my wrist, smiling blankly in my Queen Elizabeth impersonation attempt.
“What are you doing?” Death snipes, reaching out and holding my hand. “Say nothing, do nothing. Do not provoke them.”
“Gee,” I say, trying to keep my face motionless, “you could have told me that before.”
Luckily, the Inmost dwellers don’t seem all that concerned that I’m here. I mean, they definitely don’t love me, but I could think of worse things that could happen, like having body parts thrown in my face like rotten tomatoes.
“Let’s get ready to kill!” Tuonen whoops into the microphone in his deep announcer voice. Quite the twist on the usual intro to a fighting match.
But everyone cheers, the whole crowd erupting in a frenzy. I already see people starting to attack each other and they’re not even in the ring.
“What the hell is wrong with these people?” I find myself saying.
Death snorts. “Hell is what’s wrong with them.”
Then he reaches inside his cloak and hands me an iron flask. “Frostberry liquor,” he says. “You’ll probably need it to get through this.”
I couldn’t be more grateful. Grinning at him, I take the flask and tip it back into my mouth. It burns, but it promises relief from the guts and gore.
Which is now in full swing. There isn’t much to a Bone Match. Being a fighter myself and having had a passing interest in MMA, I assumed that there would be some kind of skill in these fights.
NOPE.
Two awful dead people go into the massive ring, and it’s all about fighting to the death. And in this case, if you’re an Inmost dweller, who is technically already dead, you can take a beating before you’re sucked into Oblivion. Fighters are ripping each other’s head off, chopping off limbs, punching holes through skulls, popping out eyeballs, yanking guts out through throats, sawing off penises. It’s the most disgusting thing I think I’ll ever see. God, I hope I never see anything worse.
Death leaves me for a moment and then comes back with what looks like a bucket of popcorn. He hands it to me.
“Popcorn?” I ask, staring down at it, refusing to take it. I mean, it looks like the movie theatre kind but… “Like fuck I’m going to eat popcorn from this place. It’s probably baby bird brains or something.”
Now Death looks disgusted, staring down at it with a raised brow. “Thanks for that image. I brought this from Shadow’s End, it was in the carriage.”
He ends up tossing the bucket over his shoulder. In seconds the ground behind us is filled with the sound of skittering bodies, like giant insects I never want to see.
I shudder and lean into Death, wanting to leave but not wanting to be a wimp about all this. I’m the Goddess of Death, but I don’t think time in Hell is meant for me.
I sigh, putting my head on his shoulder.
He stiffens.
Rude. Are we supposed to keep up some kind of decorum? In this place?
I straighten up and look at Death.
But it’s not him at all.
Chapter 25
Hanna
“The Showdown”
I stare at him, mouth open.
“You’re not him,” I say.
He doesn’t say anything for a moment. “Of course I am.”
“No, you’re not,” I say. “You’re the Shadow Self.”
“Which is still me.”
“How long have you been this way? When did you switch?”
“When you weren’t looking.”
I glance around. Some people are looking at us and whispering to each other, but for appearances sake, he looks no different. No one would know it’s his Shadow Self. Except for me, of course. Now that I’m clued into it, I can tell. He smells different. No sea spray and cozy fire. No, now he smells a bit herbal and sulphurous. It’s not a bad smell, but it’s not my Tuoni.