Pyke studies her figure, which is clothed in a Grecian-styled gown in a blue that matches her eyes with a gold braided belt and sandals on her feet. She has a gold circlet on top of her head that holds a blue gemstone in the center, also the same color as her eyes.
“Pretty girl,” Pyke says almost dismissively, and then, before our eyes, he transforms into the exact likeness of Charmeine.
I have to wonder what Micah will do when he sees her. Will he know immediately that it’s a trick, or will he think she’s escaped? Most likely, he’ll think her a mirage, but will hopefully be intrigued enough or maybe lovesick enough to check it out.
“Any last questions before we go in?” Carrick asks.
No one says a word.
Carrick turns his attention to Boral and Zaid, merely saying, “Protect her with your lives.”
Zaid replies, “It shall be done.”
Boral doesn’t say anything, but part of me thinks he does that just to irritate Carrick.
“Then let’s do this,” Carrick says, pulling the relic we had retrieved from Hungary out of his pocket. With some ancient words I don’t understand, a small chime comes from the device and I hear an audible click snapping into place.
He hands the device to Boral. “This will keep the rip in the veil open for a quick escape if you need to get Finley back through.”
Boral nods, takes the bronze relic, and tucks it in his own pocket.
No more instructions are needed. Lucien, who is the only one of us who knows how to access Micah’s realm, makes a slicing motion in the air. A seam opens, revealing the darkness of the once-beautiful island. Directly in front of us is a boulder the size of a mini-bus, sitting on packed, black sand. It’s so big I can’t see any of the scenery beyond.
I can tell where the Crimson River is, though, because there’s a hazy reddish-orange glow in the sky beyond it. It surprisingly provides adequate light so that when my eyes adjust, I can see the rise of the craggy mountains beyond and several other boulders of near the same size around us spaced twenty to thirty feet from one another. They sort of remind me of a Stonehenge in that they seem strategically placed, but all I really care about is that they provide adequate cover.
We step through the rip, Carrick leading first, then Lucien. Next is Pyke looking very Charmeine-like, then me followed by Zaid and Boral. I glance over my shoulder to see the forest clearing we left behind before the edges of the rip start to draw together.
I’m amazed when it doesn’t close all the way, though, leaving a very thin line where I can see a thicket of cedar trees beyond. Boral stands station there as his instructions are to keep the rip open and to do that, the relic must remain close. He’s the last who would join any battle, but, of course, I expect he and Zaid’s primary purpose is to grab me and throw me through if things go bad.
I move a few steps from Boral to get closer to the group, hidden from anything on the other side—namely the entrance to Micah’s cave.
Lucien points to the left of the boulder and tells Pyke, “The beach of the barren ocean is just around that way. You’ll need to walk about half a mile before you see the entrance to the cave. Don’t get close, though… stay at least fifty yards back.”
“And do what once I get there?” Pyke asks, and I’m jarred that his voice is feminine to match the beautifully ethereal guise of Charmeine, although there’s no way to know how closely he actually matches her tone.
“Once you reach it, just walk slowly back and forth,” Lucien says. “Micah sits at his table, which faces the dead ocean, and broods. A lot. He’ll see you at some point.”
My curiosity gets the better of me, and I move to the opposite end of the boulder to peek around it. There are more boulders, and the lowest edge of the mountain is a sloping quarry of black shale. It leads up to various rocky ledges, and past that, to the sharp peaks. I can see where the beach’s edge meets the stone mountain, but I can’t tell in the dim light where the cave’s entrance would be. I suppose about half a mile down as Lucien told Pyke.
My eyes are drawn to the Crimson River, that flow of lava—a burning swirl of tortured souls—that comes from the Underworld and defies gravity to climb up into one of the mountains.
It’s amazing that Micah had the power—obviously fueled by hate—to call forth the Crimson River from the depths of hell and into his realm.
My gaze shifts slowly to the horizon from where the river is flowing, and it’s chilling to know the Underworld is just over that way.