talk. Just do what you do best.’
Right. Right,
what he did best. She looked at him with such narrow-eyed passion
and hunger that whatever it was that beat inside his chest, whether
he thought it dead or alive, suddenly was caught up in that same
fire. Already, Teague knew, he was lost.
~
In the realm that the Father had called Hadentes, Teague’s second
soulform had been led away from the courtyard to the black western
wall that adjoined the Tall tower. Here they stopped, and Teague
looked up. The ramparts were hidden in the swirling black clouds
above them.
Charos held up a clawed hand and a space in the wall
dissolved. Beyond it Teague saw a gaping wilderness, red with fire,
and right in front of him stood a gargantuan black tower some
distance away, taller even than the walls they had just passed
through. Molten metal dripped from the cracks, which quickly
solidified into terrifying shapes reminiscent of deathmasks and
broken skeletons.
He was led through the wilderness for what seemed like days,
and the tower didn’t seem to get closer. They arrived at a gaping
chasm, the true depths of which Teague couldn’t determine, for
thick fog lingered at its edges like water. Charos led him to its
nearest bank, where a small boat made of black bones waited for
them.
The river Achronne , said
Charos. I will lead you across.
The boat
seemed to be painted with concentrated pain; touching it made
Teague feel dizzy with it, and again he was sick, twice by his
feet.
Row , ordered Charos.
‘ There’s nothing to row with,’ Teague managed,
choking on the burn from his own hot bile. The anguish wouldn’t go away, despite the
grogginess.
Charos held out another claw and Teague’s
smoky body exploded into a torrent of blood and organs. His bones
spun and collected themselves to form two bloody oars, which
lowered into his hands. His chest gaped, but yet he survived; he
was still half-alive.
Row, said Charos.
‘ I can’t…’
You have
already paid me the fee. You may as well make your way across. More
pain will greet you if you do not row.
‘ What fee …?’
Charos held
out its cracked hand, and in it were Teague’s bloody
fingernails.
Row !
For eternity Teague
rowed with no strength, and inside him he felt the additional pain
of hunger that had been steadily growing since his arrival. He
didn’t bother asking for food. They crossed over the river of mist,
the depth of which could not be gauged; if he stepped out he might
set foot on the same rocky ground that the cliff walls were made
out of, or he might tumble for all eternity down a chasm of spikes
and fire that would burn his soul until the armies of heaven saved
him after aeons of suffering.
The one hope they missed , Teague
tried not to think: the hope that the
Final Battle will be waged and we’ll all be set free, or
vaporised.
Charos burst
into flame and was suddenly all around him, a hundred red eyes
admonishing.
That false hope will be gone soon ! Do not think it again. There is no
end. Settle yourself into your torment; it will be all you ever
know!
The bank was
finally reached, and the boat of bones vanished. The oars
disappeared from his grasp, and while he climbed onto the rocky
embankment he doggedly clung to his organs.
‘ What is
this ?’ he asked.
The second tower: the Square Tower of Sinners. Here reside
the Gluttonous: those that grow fat on their greed, as you did;
those that horde, the miserly; those that hunger for more, the
insatiable; and those whose hunger never stops, the
obese.
All around him were creatures that sat with lolling tongues,
who clutched swollen bellies and belched garbled laughter. Some fed
on the souls that inhabited the towers, growing ever more
grotesquely fat, and others broke the souls apart, hoarding the
pieces and scowling with gored lips.
‘ I have no place in this tower,’ Teague said.
‘Please …’
You think that
you do not belong here? Maybe your memories betray you.
Perhaps Charos was