Even if the exit was somewhere around, searching every archway sounded exactly the kind of tedious work that Catherine would rather avoid. Ylva and her little entourage disappeared through an archway three arches down. If they hadn’t been there, it wouldn’t have been any different from the rest of the place.
Martina had been asking about Baxter as of late–not directly asking Catherine, more of mumbling about it when she remembered that her secretary was off teaching a class. It was intensely irritating. Getting away from Martina was one of the few positives of teaching the human brats.
Maybe telling her about something Baxter had been up to would keep her complaints down, especially because it appeared that Baxter was doing the job Martina should have been doing–cleaning up after Zagan’s mess. She would have to carefully word her revelation to Martina so as to not ruin her carefully cultivated image of being unreliable and unproactive.
Having low expectations for her meant that Martina never bothered her with much of import. And that was exactly how Catherine liked it.
But she was willing to admit to a certain level of curiosity about the whole thing aside from Martina’s interests.
Following Ylva through the archway led her to a very familiar area. The waters of Hell.
And it was full of humans.
Wayne Lurcher, looking much better than when Catherine had last seen him, was standing near another human female. One who was half-standing in the waters. In the actual waters.
On a closer look, she might not have been human after all. Catherine hadn’t seen many humans naked, but she had seen plenty of bare arms and most arms didn’t have eyes all over them.
Still, standing in the water wasn’t safe. If the woman slipped and fell in, even for just a second, she could find herself whisked off to who knew where.
The woman had huge dark circles beneath her eyes. Her face was somewhat gaunt and she looked ready to tip over if a stiff breeze came her way. That only further compounded Catherine’s feeling that she really shouldn’t be in the water.
An innate, succubi sense picked up on something about the woman. She was bothered by something. And not in the simple sense of being disturbed–though she certainly was that as well.
In the end, Catherine simply shrugged it off. What did she care about, well, anyone anyway?
Everyone else walked right up to the edge of the water in front of the woman. Catherine caught up and stopped a few paces behind. She wasn’t trying to hide herself–there was nowhere to hide on the featureless beach–but at the same time, she wasn’t interested in being seen as part of the group.
“You found Shalise?” Baxter asked. “Is she alright?”
“I don’t know. I mean, her hair is the same, but…” The woman in the water brought up a hand to rub just above her eye–her regular, in the right place for humans, eye. “Did Shalise take up weight lifting? And, um, exhibitionism?”
Catherine blinked. Unless she was very much mistaken, they were talking about one of the mortals Zagan had dropped off in Hell. That meant the person was a student and Catherine was quite certain that there were no exhibitionists running around at the school.
She, of all people, would have noticed.
“Exhi–what? What are they doing to her?”
Catherine took a step forward, not wanting to miss out on hearing that explanation.
“Nothing. I mean, no one is around. I searched everywhere I could think of. It is just Shalise. She doesn’t… I mean, she’s just…”
The woman in the water cupped some in her hands and brought it up to slap against her cheeks. Some futile attempt at cooling her body temperature. After a deep breath, she started to explain.
— — —
Prax, Shalise thought to her ‘partner’ in her body. Prax, it isn’t working.
“Silence servant. I am trying to concentrate.”
Shalise couldn’t see anything but the insides of her own eyelids as Prax continued to fail at attempt number thirty-seven.
It was depressing. Sort of. Unless Prax was feeling the same emotion that she felt, she didn’t really feel anything but her thoughts. Upon reflection, that was probably the biggest reason behind her general blasé attitude and lack of constant panic. She knew, in her head, that she should be running around like a chicken with its head cut off about the fact that she was still stuck in her body with Prax in charge.
But it was difficult to care without the proper chemicals fueling her panic.
That said, if there was one thing she wished Prax would do, and that was opening their eyes. While it was an emotion that Prax was not feeling at the moment, boredom was driving her insane. Combined with the sheer irritation and anger projected by Prax, it was a very unpleasant situation.
“Stop thinking!” Prax shouted at her–there was no one else around. “Do you want me stuck inside you for the rest of this pitiful body’s existence? I could end it now and take my chances in the Void.”
I don’t believe you would do it, Shalise thought. You jumped into my body while neither of us had a soul and now it is all messed up. You’re worried about what will happen if I–if we die.
Prax’s silence was telling.
Not that she needed his silence to know she was right. Over the past however long it had been, Shalise was getting much better on picking up Prax’s thoughts. Nothing as clear as speaking, but general nudges in the right direction.
Prax hopped off the over large throne and started marching down through the castle’s corridors. He was in something of a rage. The scorch marks left beneath her feet gave Shalise an odd tingling sensation, but nothing more.
It wasn’t anything new and something Shalise had grown used to. Prax had been temperamental, to say the least, since they arrived in his domain.
So, Shalise thought, decided to change tactics?
“I think,” he said slowly, “that I will be taking a brief intermission from my attempts at escaping your worthless sack of flesh.”
Gee, thanks.
“Something cathartic sounds excellent. I have just the place.”
He turned down a staircase that descended for a short eternity. When the end finally came, Shalise found herself in the dungeonyest dungeon that she could imagine.
The upstairs castle proper had smooth bricks laid in neat, straight lines. All the bricks in the walls and floor were flush with one another. The ceiling had a smooth arch carved into it for some added height.
Ever since their initial trek through the castle, warm torches popped up periodically along hallways to lend their light. It was much better than the drab and uniform lighting arrangement that had seemingly permeated the entire place upon their arrival.
The elegant murals, paintings, and statues just added to the regal atmosphere of the castle.
Though she could definitely get by just fine without seeing the ones of her.
At first, Prax flew into a rage every time he saw one–given that they were everywhere, that ended up being more often than not. He went around smashing a few hundred of the golden statues and tearing down even more paintings. They always returned undamaged the moment he took his eyes off of them.
Eventually, Prax had decided to give up on that fruitless endeavor. He still glared at them–especially the ones of himself–every time he walked past one. Most of his time ended up with his eyes closed, concentrating in an attempt to escape Shalise’s body.
But the dungeon he had taken them to was anything but regal or elegant. The walls were less smooth bricks and more cobblestone and mortar slapped together. Particularly jagged cobblestone at that. Prax actually let out a cough as he walked through strands of white nitre hanging off the ceiling.
And the lighting. It was a good thing Prax knew where he was headed because there was the single torch at the base of the stairs and nothing else. It was probably meant to be carried along to the destination, but Prax had ignored it.