Chapter 107: Belanger

James fell the fifteen yards and landed solidly on the rock floor below. Before, a jump like that would have fractured both his legs, shattering his bones and driving the shards into his pelvic cradle.

Now he just sank into a crouch, skeggox propped over one shoulder and slowly rose to standing. Jelly floated down as the others leaped down after him, landing in an arc around him. Yadriel carried Miriam, whose stats weren’t yet up to snuff, but otherwise they fell silently and oriented on the huge portcullis.

“What are we dealing with here?” asked Denzel softly. “The Pits?”

“Nah,” said James. “This is something unique to Belanger. I’m sure of it. The real Pits will be a sight bigger, I’m sure.”

The darkness beyond the bars shifted and smoldered. It was clearly magical, the kind that wreathed the hives. Kerim pushed his spectacles up his nose and stepped forward. “The tunnel continues for a short way beyond the bars then curves out of sight to the right.”

“Gotcha,” said James, moving up to the bars. “Let me know if something appears.” He grabbed the rough iron in both hands, crouched, then locked his arms and started to rise. Strength 54 was prodigious. On many levels James didn’t yet fully understand what he was capable of, but now he saw the direct results.

The huge portcullis rose with him. James felt the muscles writhe along his arms, felt his hamstrings snarl, felt his quads strain with effort. Up he lifted the huge barrier, pushing it back into the slot carved into the ceiling.

“Serenity,” he grunted. “Skeggox.”

She grabbed his axe, placed it upright beneath the bars, and James relaxed. The portcullis caught against the axe and remained a yard above the ground.

Everybody hurried under. James went last, passing through the shimmering darkness. The tunnel beyond was just a Kerim had described it, roughhewn and with flickering illumination coming from beyond the curve. For a moment James considered grabbing his skeggox, but then decided the ability to make a quick exit was more important.

Together they walked forward, listening intently. Jelly flitted ahead, disappearing around the curve.

Large room beyond. Two corpses. Jaywick’s men. Looks like they shot each other. Another pit in the center of the room. Goes down aways.

James rounded the curve and saw what Jelly had described. Burning torches were set in metal scones affixed to the stone walls. The effect was positively medieval. The two men lay where they’d fallen, bullpup machine guns loosely cradled, their fronts torn up by gunfire.

“What the hell?” asked Jason as he moved forward warily. “They just have a falling out?”

“No telling,” said Kerim. “We had best be careful. We have no ability to protect against possession or curses.”

“That’s no comfort,” said Denzel.

James approached the pit. Great runes were carved around its perimeter. As he drew closer they began to burn a filthy green, and a wave of slushy frozen horror flowed into him. It was a primal sensation. His pace slowed and then he stopped altogether.

There was no obvious threat, but he was paralyzed with fear. His chest began to heave, his throat to close, his thoughts to whirl. Flickering images of a nauseating tenor rushed through his mind, nothing substantive but enough to turn his stomach.

The others also slowed, one by one, as they entered the runes’ radius of effect.

“Fuck,” grunted Yadriel. “Why am I suddenly feeling like a little bitch?”

“We are brave,” said Kimmie, her voice shaking. “Nothing can stop us.”

Her power washed over James, nullifying some of the abject terror, and he managed another couple of steps before slowing again.

Miriam finally spoke up. “We… we have nothing to fear here. We… we can press on.”

She didn’t sound like she believed it, but her Benediction blazed forth, warming James in a more profound manner than Kimmie’s Inspiration. The terror withdrew, his chest unlocked, and he sucked in a deep gulp of breath as the green runes faded and went dark.

“God damn,” hissed Serenity. “I’ve not felt that way since grade school.”

James met Miriam’s gaze and nodded his approval. She looked guilty for having taken so long, but James waited till she returned his nod and stepped to the pit’s edge.

“Whatever’s down there they really don’t want us getting to it,” said Denzel. “Fuck. Another jump?”

More unnatural darkness. Kerim peered down. “The fall’s not bad. Just ten yards. But there are a number of spikes. You land wrong you’ll get impaled.”

“Great,” said Jason. “Can you do anything to get rid of the darkness?”

“No. But I can tell you where to jump. Here. If you take a small step forward and just drop, you’ll land in a clear space. One at a time.”

“All right.” James stepped up beside Kerim. “Right here?”

Kerim took him by the shoulders and moved him a little to the left. “There. Just a small step. Fall with your back almost touching the side of the pit. It’s just ten yards.”

James nodded, inhaled deeply, and stepped forward. He fell, punched through the layer of unnatural darkness, and then was through. He landed hard, falling into a crouch, and froze.

A dozen wickedly barbed spikes rose up all around him, each two yards in height. Landing on one would either result in complete impalement or being torn to shreds on the barbs.

“I’m fine,” he called, rising and slipping forward between the spikes. “Next.”

Another tunnel led out of the spike pit. Laughter and voices came from around the next curve, and in the shadows James saw movement.

One of Jaywick’s men, left on guard. The man was pushing off the wall with his shoulder, raising his gun, eyes wide in alarm, mouth opening to holler.

Power 56 allowed him to explode forward faster than any sprinter. Speed 47 allowed him to cross the pit as quickly as a bullet. Agility 44 allowed him to weave between the spikes as if they were yards apart instead of mere feet.

James closed one hand about the guard’s throat and closed the other around the gun, keeping the muzzle pointed down. He cracked the man’s head against the wall, hard, and the guard’s eyes rolled up before he even managed to croak.

James lowered him quickly, only to belatedly realize there was no reason to be gentle; a thick splotch of blood and hair remained on the ragged wall. Frowning, James tilted the man’s head forward. The back of his skull was pulped.

Strength 54.

Serenity dropped into the pit, hissed as she nearly slashed herself open, then called out the all clear and approached.

“What happened?” she asked, staring at the dead man.

“Me, I guess. He was left on watch.”

“Slick moves, Rick.” She looked past him. “Jaywick’s cautious. Two dead top side, two more in the pit room, now this guy. He’s down to three more. We outnumber him two-to-one.”

“One of them had an Anima Sola. If it’s Jaywick, he’s no push-over.”

The rest of the crew dropped down. Kerim’s guidance was such that nobody had any accidents. Once they were all gathered James led the way, along the tunnel and out into a massive cavern.

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The place was huge. Big enough to fit half a football field and composed of multiple different plateaus at varied heights. Stalactites and stalagmites rose to meet everywhere, turning the place into a forest of glimmering stone towers, and the air was musty and damp.

But James’s gaze was pulled to the far side of the cavern where a huge throne rose from a high ledge, resplendent and demonic. It was a riot of bones and rusted steel, large enough for a Nem3 but occupied by an old man who watched Jaywick and several others slowly approaching, his chin on one fist, his expression bored, sullen, annoyed.

James extended his arm, stopping the others from moving any further. Jaywick was having trouble. It was simple enough to navigate the floor, to go around the stalagmites and leap from ledge to ledge, but already two of his men were dead, torn apart by invisible attacks that left their bodies shredded in pools of gleaming blood.

Jaywick crouched thirty yards before Belanger, heaving for breath, one arm stretched forth as if to forestall another attack. His remaining soldier stood a few yards behind him.

“You don’t need to carry the weight any longer,” Jaywick called to Belanger. “I understand that I’m not welcome here, but my arrival could be an end to your pain.”

“But I’m not in pain,” said Belanger dully.

“This is not living.” Jaywick gestured around the cavern. “She’s not really your wife.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

Jaywick hesitated. “Then why do you spend your time with her?”

“You don’t get to ask questions.”

“Whoa, wait-wait-wait. I’m sorry. You’re right.” Jaywick had positively flinched. “No need to call her. I, ah, am just here to help. To help you.”

Belanger frowned. “Is that so?”

“I’ll take on the weight, the burden. I’ll ease your load. Just give it to me and this can all end for you. Don’t you want peace?”

“Peace.” Belanger tasted the word. “It’s too late for that.” And he made a gesture.

The remaining SAS soldier wheeled around as a woman appeared by his side. She was naked, her body glistening with blood. Her lank blonde hair hung down past her shoulders, and her expression was alive with amusement and delight. She reached out and took hold of the soldier as he opened fire point blank into her gut, his gun burning bright with the silvery light of Smite. For a second he just poured endless rounds into her gut, and then she tore him apart.

One hand holding his left shoulder, the fingers of her right digging into his abdomen to clutch at the rim of his pelvis, she simply ripped him in half. His scream cut off abruptly as gore fountained everywhere, bathing the woman anew. She released both halves and they fell with wet thumps to the ground.

“Fuck!” Jaywick reeled back and in doing so caught sight of James and his crew. “Kelly! Get her, get her while she’s visible -”

But then she wasn’t. Quick as a blink she was gone.

“Get her?” asked Belanger, voice pricked with pique. “Get her? You would harm my wife?”

“No, of course not mate, I merely meant -”

The woman appeared behind Jaywick. There was nothing demonic about her, nothing overtly terrifying, but that in and of itself made her ghastlier. She reached forth just as an Anima came buzzing down from the darkness that cloaked the cavern roof. Its bladed arms blurred as it slammed into her back, only to bounce off, blades bent. Jaywick screamed and silver lightning blasted down from the roof to strike the woman, immolate them both.

But to no avail. She wrapped one arm around his chest, a hand around his chin, and tore his head clean off.

Blood geysered up as she released the body. The flare of Heavenly Assault died away. Her body was unmarked by the attack. For a second she considered the head in her hands. Jaywick’s lips moved for a second, and then she tossed the head away and looked over her shoulder at James.

For a second their eyes met. Her face ran with blood, her hair hung heavy and lank with it, but still she smiled, a wicked, enticing smile, as if she were espying him from across the room at a party and deciding in that moment to have her way with him.

Then she was gone.

Belanger sighed and shifted on his throne. “You lot. You want the Light Eternal. You want to convince me to give it to you.”

“That’s right,” James called back.

“It’s right here,” said Belanger, and he placed a burning sapphire gem the size of his fist upon the throne’s arm. It was enmeshed in golden wires and looked just like a heavenly treasure. “Reach my throne and I’ll give it to you.”

James looked at the scattered corpses that littered the cavern floor. “That easy.”

For the first time Belanger smiled. The expression was haunted. “That easy.”

“We could go as a team,” said Serenity. “Circle of Protection, Shields up, Martyr’s Cry to keep us going.”

“Don’t bother trying to kill her,” Belanger called out. “Jane’s more powerful than a Monitor now. Your best bet is to just get the fuck out of here. But if you insist?” He patted the gem. “Start walking.”

James licked his lips, considered, then squared his shoulders. “You lot wait for me here.”

“What the fuck?” hissed Serenity. “Wait for you here?”

“There’s only one way across,” said James. “It’s not a physical ordeal. This is a psychological labyrinth. I’ll try the odds alone.”

Olaf put a hand on James’s shoulder. “If you insist. But we will be ready. If this Jane appears, we will act.”

“Fine.” James held Serenity’s gaze till she looked away with a scowl, then turned to face the cavern. Fifty yards separated him from Belanger. A few precipitous drops, a few sharp climbs. He could run the distance in seconds, but for sure that would trigger Jane. He didn’t know why, but he believed Belanger when he said she was more powerful than a Monitor.

Whatever they’d done to placate him, to get him to sit on that throne, it had to have been worth damning the whole species. The demons wouldn’t have expended a lowly Nem on the deal.

James hopped off their ledge, fell a couple of yards onto a smooth expanse of rock, and began to walk forward slowly. “Patrick Belanger?”

The old man studied James, eyes narrowing at the casual tone. “The same.”

“My name’s James Kelly. Mind if we chat as I cross?”

“I expected nothing less. You need to convince me to keep Jane at bay. Move too fast and I’ll release her. Annoy me, insult me, bore me, and I’ll do the same.” The old man paused and then an unhinged smile crossed his face. “I hope for your sake you’re more interesting than those last fools.”

“One way to find out,” said James, and stuck his hands in his parka pockets. “Slow walk work for you?”

The old man nodded, again narrowing his eyes at James’s chill tone.

“Cool.” James began to advance cautiously. “So tell me. Why’d you decide to sacrifice all of humanity for this shitty existence in a hole?”

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