Snow climbs to just beneath our knees, and we’re breathing hard by the time we arrive. With tall trees coated in frothy white powder and the ground glittering beneath our feet, it really does feel like Christmas. Guess it’s high time to spread a little holiday cheer in hell.
“Is this some kind of joke?” Aspen shouts over the wind. “Are you guys going to bury me out here?”
I toss a smile her way even though I’m not feeling it. I remember the first time I returned to this place on my own. It was like having a dentist appointment that you know would be painful and going, anyway. It’s like that times a million.
We stop in front of the tree. It’s easily eighty feet tall and reminds me of a Christmas tree every time I see it. I’m sure Lucille finds this wildly amusing. Aspen gazes upward and runs her hand over the sharp needles. Her fingers extend out from orange gloves.
Did she sleep with them on last night?
I think about telling her she should take my gloves so she doesn’t get frostbite. But she won’t need the warmth for much longer.
Max reaches into the back of his pants and pulls out a short blade. It’s what he was checking for on the snowmobile. Valery remembered everything Max asked for. Though I bet this part of the instructions made her particularly nervous.
My best friend hands the knife to me. Just like the tree, it isn’t anything special—a four-inch blade with a wood handle.
Blood surges through my veins as I angle the knife toward my inner arm. Aspen gasps.
“Wait,” Max says. “How are you going to do it?”
I let the knife drop to my side and put a hand on his shoulder. “You and I, we know every corner. It’ll be easier than you think because no one would ever dare try what I’m going to do. Lucille’s arrogance is his Achilles heel.”
Max knows this is true but doesn’t want to let it go. He pulls me into a hug so quickly I almost stab him in the leg. I throw my free arm around him, and my chest aches. My best friend has done so much for me. He’s risked his cuff to leave the collectors and be with me and Red, and he’s risked it again by coming here. I wish I’d made more time to hang out with him over the last few days. I only hope I can show him how much I care about our friendship when I get back. If I get back. I may talk a big game, but I know I may never see this part of earth again. And that includes Max.
“Get off me, leech,” I tell him, wiping a hand across my eyes. “Just wait with the snowmobiles. We’ll be back before you know it.”
Max studies the snow beneath his boots.
When I bring the knife to my arm this time, I don’t hesitate. I drag the blade across my inner left forearm until a dark trail of blood rises up. Turning my arm over, I let the blood drip onto the base of the tree. Then I hand the knife to Aspen.
“Left arm,” I tell her. Even this part I want to protect her from. But I know I have to let her do this without help, because it’ll only get worse from here on out.
Aspen closes her eyes, grits her teeth, and copies what I did. Then she turns her arm over. Her blood sprinkles across the snow, staining it red. Max backs up and holds my gaze.
Beneath the tree, the ground splits apart.
There’s a loud rumbling as a black hole spreads out from the roots. It swallows the blood-stained snow as a flesh offering and yawns open. I rush to Aspen’s side and pull her away from the black void. She’s holding her chin high, but I see the way her hands clench into fists.
“You can stay,” I tell her. “Max can take you back.”
“No,” she says. “I’m doing this.” I don’t know where her resolve stems from, but I accept her answer and move away. Aspen peers over the lip of the opening and sees the descending stairs. “It’s an actual place,” she says. “Hell is here on earth.”
“Of course.” I ease myself down onto the first step and turn toward her. “Last chance, Aspen. You don’t have to do this.”
Her gaze shifts to Max before landing back on me. Determination rages in her eyes, so I offer my hand, and she steps down beside me.
Max moves closer. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this,” he says unexpectedly. “I can’t be a collector while she’s a liberator. At some point I’m going to have to take a risk like you guys are.”
I don’t know why he’s telling me this now. But it’s almost like he wants me to know on the off chance that I don’t come back. I glance at his cuff. He means he wants to remove it. He wants to break off the dargon and see if Big Guy accepts him so that he can be with Valery.
“Not yet, champ,” I say. “Wait until I get back. Then we can do it together.”
The line between his eyes relaxes. He smiles.
I lift my hand in a wave.
He flips me off, and I laugh.
Then he turns and heads back toward the snowmobiles. There are so many unsaid things between us. He, more than anyone, knows what Aspen and I are about to face. I watch him walk away, bringing his knees up high to avoid stumbling in the snow.
Aspen squeezes my arm, and I turn my attention to the stairs.
“Are you ready?” I ask.
Aspen lets go of me and begins the descent. I follow after her. The ground closes over our heads. Snow drops down as the earth seals tight, sizzling against the ground.
When I hear the first moan of agony, I know it’s real.
I’ve come home to hell.
36 
Welcome to Hell
Aspen and I shed our heavier clothes as the temperature rises. Everyone assumes hell is the hottest place they can imagine. It isn’t true, though hell certainly isn’t cool, either. Within a few seconds, sweat pricks my forehead and arms. I seriously wish I could sport shadow down here; it would make things a lot easier. Of course, I guess it doesn’t matter if Aspen is with me. I also regret not bringing a weapon. I know what Kraven said about losing my cuff, but right about now I’m fretting over things much worse.
We take the stairs down for what feels like an eternity. I try to keep my eyes on the steps in front of me instead of the walls. Aspen hasn’t noticed what they’re made of, and I hope she never does. But at one point, as we’re finally nearing the bottom, she slips. Her arms flail, and she catches herself against the walls.
“Watch it,” a gravelly voice says.
Aspen almost screams. I have to cover her mouth to stop her. “Shhh,” I tell her. “No matter what you see, no matter what happens, don’t scream.”
I spin toward the wall. “And you. You’re not supposed to talk unless you see something unusual.”
Aspen’s eyes widen when she sees the faces. Hundreds of them stick out from the walls like they’re masks. There isn’t much light in the stairwell, but it’s enough to make out that they’re human.
“She nearly pushed me back through,” the face complains. “You know how hard it is to get a spot.”
I imagine the bodies trapped between the walls, shoving their faces through so they can see who comes and goes. The faces don’t actually protrude. It’s more like the wall bends to their shape so that each one looks bluish-black, just like the stone that locks them inside.
“Shut up,” I order. “You’re not hurt.”
“It’s Dante Walker,” a face nearby whispers.
“Ooh, Dante is back,” another says.
“Who’s the girl?”
“Dante is bringing the king a live one.”
“I knew he’d come home!”
Their voices blend together like a warped song. It almost drowns out the sound of the moans, ever present.
Aspen’s trying to make herself as small as possible. Her cheeks are scarlet with fear, and she’s trying to look everywhere at once. “This can’t be real. I just—”