with Kane.
He looked down at his hand and saw glittery scales shifting beneath the skin. Shit. He leaned his head back against the wall, summoning the same intense control that had kept him going for so long. But he couldn't find it. All he could think about was Thano going through that same hell. And the angel of death, somewhere in this morbid castle. And Dante's demise. Shit, he missed Dante.
His upper lip curled, and his teeth began to lengthen.
"Shit!" He slammed his head back against the wall and pressed his hands to his eyes, his body straining with the effort of holding it in. Dante. Why the fuck did you have to die? What kind of plan is that?
Ryland.
Ryland's eyes snapped open at the sound of his mentor's voice. He spun around desperately, almost frantically, searching the dark tunnels. "Dante!" he shouted. "Dante! Where are you? Are you down here?" He staggered down the hall, bumping off walls as he tried to regain his equilibrium. "Dante!"
Stop.
Ryland froze, going instantly immobile at the command.
This war has become your battle.
"Yeah, okay." He clenched his hands as his fingernails began to lengthen, the sharp barbs digging into his fisted palms. "Tell me what to do."
You don't need that from me anymore. You know your path.
"My path is your path. I'm here to serve you."
This is bigger than I am, Ryland. You need to move beyond me.
Denial roared through him. "No!" he shouted. "I will not abandon you!" Scales shifted on his arms, and Ryland's face contorted. "Shit!" He went down on his knees, fighting as his muscles began to contort. "I can't do this without you, Dante. I can't." He gasped the last words. "Help me. Please, help me."
He felt Dante's disappointment, and then a wave of calmness washed over him as Dante provided that same protection he'd given him so many times before. Ryland sucked in his breath as the scales receded and his muscles relaxed. He hung his head, shuddering as his body reclaimed itself. "Thank you."
No more help from me, Ryland. You are on your own now. Deviate from the path you think you're supposed to be on. There's no other way.
"No other way to do what?"
What needs to be done.
Ryland felt his mentor's spirit vanish. Loss and grief roared through him. "Dante!" He lunged forward, his hands clutching at empty air as if he could somehow reach the man who'd given him a second chance at life, who'd snatched him from the bowels of hell and taught him how to be a warrior.
But Dante was gone, and the emptiness of his existence filled Ryland again, the same pulsating doom that haunted him day after day. With a groan, Ryland hauled himself to his feet. His palms were bleeding, three cuts on each hand. A reminder of how close he was to that edge.
But Dante had given him a reprieve, and he would not waste it.
He wiped his hands over the wall of the passageway, leaving his blood behind as he continued down the dark hallway, allowing his instincts to continue to guide his path. Thano. He tried again, for the thousandth time. I know you're alive. You don't get to shirk your duties anymore. Man up, kid, and get with the program.
There was a faint ripple of Calydon energy in Ryland's mind, and he went utterly still. Thano. Your manicurist misses you. You gotta come home. He focused all his energy into his mind, thrusting out feelers in all directions. Come on, Thano. Answer me. I'll do the rest.
And then he heard it. The sound that he'd been searching for so hard. You're too old for this shit, Ry. Go back to bed and let the young guys handle it.
Thano! It's about damned time you spoke up! Elation rushed through Ryland, and he immediately locked onto the warrior's mental energy. He broke into a run, not caring about his half-burned foot or the bits of silvery scales drifting in the air behind him. He sprinted down the hall, took a right, two lefts and then stopped in the middle of a long hallway. Thano's energy was all around him. It was weak and splotchy, mingled with something else, but definitely Thano. Where are you?
Right where I've been, waiting for one of you guys to show up.
Ryland looked down at the ground beneath his feet. Solid rock. Fuck that. Rock wasn't enough to stop him.
He called out his machete as he rubbed his foot over the floor, searching for