hands, and I’m almost ready to do a little ditty in case the Hellgate is a fan of a good song and dance, but I decide to save that for when I get really desperate.
I look from the Gate to my scythe, studying them both.
“Ah ha!” I exclaim.
My scythe is dormant right now, so maybe I need to activate it. “Queen of Hearts,” I command, “...do your thing!” I hold it out and watch my Swiss Army scythe reveal its sharp blades. I hold it up to the Gate again, but the doors still refuse to acknowledge my existence.
“Do you think Nefta meant key literally?” I ask.
Crux looks up at the doors and scratches the short blond scruff on his jaw. “I don’t see a keyhole…”
I bite my lip in thought as I run my gaze over the flickering red flames.
Ahh, fuck it.
I take a few strides back, and then in my best Olympic javelin thrower impression, aim to chuck my scythe at the door, straight blade first. I get all medieval and spear throwy, but maybe this bitch wants it a little rough. I mean, I certainly wouldn’t be one to judge.
The guys all call out their protest as I release my hold on my scythe and subsequently throw it at the Hellgate, but it’s entirely too late by then. I watch in the way you do after you’ve bowled a ball to see how many pins get knocked over. I’m surprised when my aim is true, because the straight blade of the scythe sinks into the flames, and then a loud thunk fills the cavernous space all around us.
We all hold our breath to see if the flames are going to incinerate the weapon, but it seems to be okay… Until the flames blink out on the Gate all together. One moment, it’s burning Hellishly, and the next, it’s out like a light, as if I just went at the thing with a Hell Flame extinguisher.
Well, double fuck!
“Shit, shit, shit,” I curse, panic widening my eyes and making my heart flip over and faceplant against my chest.
We all rush forward like the Gate’s an injured animal, and I’m surprised to see that under all the flames, there is an actual door. I’m not stoked to realize that it’s made of bones of some sort, but we all make decorating mistakes in life. Just look at what happened with wall paper borders.
My scythe sticks out of the front of the massive bone doors, wobbling a little, as if I put too much heat behind the throw and it’s still trying to recover from the force of impact.
Iceman runs his eyes over the massive doors like he doesn’t know what to do. “Maverick, you need to fix this now. It’s almost as if you somehow turned it off completely. Anyone can get through right now,” Iceman warns me, and the fact that it’s him sounding really concerned makes my panic spike up.
“I don’t know how!” I exclaim, searching the door for some kind of clue, as if a bony hand is going to reach out and slap me across the face and be like, it’s right there, lady!
“Why would you fucking spear it?” Jerif snaps.
“I don’t know!” I shout back, sinking my hands into my hair and pulling at the strands. “It just seemed like a good idea at the time!”
“The Gate is weakened, Delta. It’s sick. You don’t stab sick things,” he retorts.
My whole face feels hot and flushed with both panic and anger. “Well, you did the chucking the spear thing earlier and gave me the idea, so it’s partially your fault!”
He tosses his arms up in exasperation. “How the hell is this my fault?”
Echo’s hand presses against my mouth as I try to argue some more, my words instantly getting muffled by his palm. His chest presses up against my side, and he gives me a nip to my ear. “Ignore Jerif. He gets mean when he’s scared.”
The lava demon shoots him a withering glare. “I am not scared.”
I feel Echo’s mouth curve against my temple before he drops his hand. “Breathe, Delta. This is your legacy. We have full faith that you can fix this.”
Feeling only slightly bolstered, I nod and try to figure this the fuck out.
Come on, ancient demon Annulus bloodline, help a dumb newbie out!
As though my silent plea was actually heard, my eyes rest upon skulls scattered in several places throughout the doors. On each one, there appears to be some kind