Until the gods force me to do it again.
7
Hildi
Luke takes the lead as we exit the temple. The doors seal behind us, and we follow the worn dirt path into a damp forest. The trees that line the path have twisted trunks, bark peeling and thick. Branches jut overhead—no leaves—heavy fog clings to the limbs.
Marshal grabs my arm and holds me back. “Do we really trust him?”
“You may not, but I do.”
“We’re walking straight into his backyard, Hildi, he could lead us astray at any moment, send us into a trap. The risk for betrayal is high.”
I cut him a look. “You’re talking about betrayal? Seriously?”
His jaw tenses, and he pushes back his fair hair. “That was different. It was complicated. Which is exactly what this situation is. Family always wins.”
I snort. “You have zero sense of irony, do you. You’re the one that betrayed your family!”
“To be fair, Roland was my family for a long time. And where am I now? Who did I come back to?”
“You needed me.”
And I need him.
Gods, we're screwed. I know it, and the crease on his forehead says he knows it, too.
“Look,” I say, keeping an eye on our surroundings, “Luke has been steady this whole time. Training with us, working side by side. Elizabeth trusts him, and I know the Immortals do. Otherwise they wouldn’t have had him wait for us.”
His jaw clenches and relents, barely. “Fine, but I’m watching him.”
“You do that, and while you’re watching him, I’ll be watching you.”
His eyebrow shoots up. “Oh, I bet you are. You never have been able to resist looking at me.”
Insufferable. I roll my eyes and walk ahead, catching up to Elizabeth. No one speaks as the landscape darkens and the trees grow thicker and gnarled.
“So,” Marshal says, his voice cutting through the eerie quiet, “This is Limbo?”
“The outer edge,” Luke says, side-stepping a thick root. “Actual Limbo is specific for whoever is experiencing it. For some, it’s dull monotony. Others it’s like wandering in the Abyss—dark and inky, never ending.” He nods at the trees. “See the faces?”
I frown and look at the gnarled, knotted tree trunk in confusion. That is, until one of the knots blinks. I jump back, reaching for my blade. “What the hell?”
Elizabeth pushes her back against mine. “Those are people?”
?
??These are the souls that didn’t believe in a higher power—the atheists and unbelievers. The gods have no use for them, so they get locked in the second they enter.”
The Legion definitely believe in gods—from personal experience. I breathe a sigh of relief and peer at a face in the tree. “Does it hurt?”
“I don’t know.”
He continues down the path with the same causal air. I, on the other hand, am completely unnerved. Even Marshal looks a bit uneasy as he eyes the trees, and I hear the wariness in his voice when he asks, “If the Legion aren’t in there, then how do we find them?”
“They’ll be in the inner circle of the ring—fighting their version of Limbo.”
“What does that mean?” Elizabeth asks.