The Heart of Hell by Wayne Barlowe

Author:Wayne Barlowe
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates

14

THE PIT

Ice crunched and sizzled beneath Adramalik’s careful footfalls as he edged his way slowly along the cavern walls. The floor had fallen away and was concealed in the lower shadows far below. Faraii, incomprehensibly surefooted, managed the narrow strip of icy rock much better. Perhaps, four feet are better here than two, Adramalik thought. He would never have thought so, but the fact was that he was having trouble keeping up.

Adramalik frowned. He heard something in the cavern far ahead, a muffled cacophony of distant raspings and rendings and, perhaps, low speech blending into one steady susurration. It was disquieting and set the demon’s nerves on edge. He clenched his teeth, trying to ignore it, but the deep sounds seemed to flow through his body.

The creature that was now Faraii halted and turned his head toward the demon. The crown-like flames darkened his face in flickering shadows and only his eyes glittered back at the demon.

“Do you see that tiled arch up ahead? Not the dark one—the big one lit from behind? You must pass through that one on your hands and knees. And continue on into the Presence in that manner.”

More degrading rituals! As if kneeling before Ai Apaec was not enough! The Court of the Fly was like a dream compared to these upstart gods and their ridiculous self-aggrandizing formalities. I served the Prince of Hell and now this? Will my fall never end?

As the pair made their way toward the archway, Adramalik had to admit to himself that he almost welcomed the notion of crawling given his constant slipping. Still, it rankled him.

When they reached the huge arch, he dropped to his hands and knees, but it was an almost involuntary act as he saw laid out before him the vast tableau of Lord Abaddon and his attendant court.

The ancient cavern, eerily illuminated by the glowing growths on the rocks, was easily as vast as the Prince’s Rotunda had been, a space that should have defied the physical supports it would need to keep it from collapsing. As no supports were visible, the enormity of the amphitheater was staggering, but Adramalik had little time to consider issues of fantastic architecture.

Recumbent in a lake of trembling quicksilver was Abaddon. The god was gigantic, nearly the size of Semjaza the Watcher, and he was unlike any thing or being that Adramalik had ever seen in Hell. He had a head. That much was apparent, but even that was not like any head he had encountered before. It was impossible to tell which direction it was looking, which were its features, and which were simply strange ornaments projecting from its round skull. Surrounding it was a dark and wavering nimbus, a huge version of the Faraii creature’s, that seemed to pull the light in from all around it.

The rest of the god’s partially submerged body was equally puzzling. Angular limbs disappeared beneath the rippling liquid metal to reappear in unexpected places, attaching themselves to the torso in ways that Adramalik had trouble understanding.

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