33: Hell's Kingdom

61 1 0
                                    

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

CLARY

There were six Endarkened dressed in red standing in front of the Dark Gard, and they were only just turning around in shock and surprise when Rebecca sliced with lightning speed, taking down one of them. Another fell to his knees, an arrow protruding from his neck.

A third man, dark-haired and paunchy, staggered back with a yell, an arrow in his leg; Isabelle was on him in an instant, her whip slicing across his throat. As the man went down, Jace leaped and rode his body to the ground, using the force of the fall to hurl his own body forward. His blades flashed with a scissoring motion, slicing the head off a bald man whose red gear was splotched with patches of dried blood.

The fifth one, however, was behind Jace, her blade lifted and ready to strike. Clary whipped her dagger forward and let it fly. It buried itself in the woman's forehead and she folded silently to the ground without another cry.

The last of the Endarkened began to run, stumbling uphill. Simon flashed past Clary, a movement too swift to see, and sprang like a cat. The Endarkened man went down with a gasp of terror, and Clary saw Simon rear up over him and strike like a snake. There was a sound like tearing paper.

They all looked away. After a few long moments, Simon rose from the still body and came down the hill toward them. There was blood on his shirt, and blood on his hands and face. He turned his face to the side, coughed, and spat, looking sick. "Bitter," he said. "The blood. It tastes like Sebastian's."

Rebecca was staring at the dead Endarkened with an odd expression on her face, almost something like regret. When Alec went up behind her and put his hand on her shoulder, she jumped, and turned to face him. Once again, her eyes were pitch black, devoid of anything that made them seem human. But as she turned to look at Alec, her eyes cleared, and her breaths, which were short and heavy, slowed down.

"It's getting worse, she said flatly. "We'd better hurry up - the sun's setting." Without another word, she began tugging at the robes of the dead man at her feet.


They stripped the gear from the bodies, silently and quickly. There was something sickening about the work, something that hadn't seemed quite so horrible when Simon had described the strategy but that now seemed very horrible. After a few minor adjustments to the sleeves and pants, they all managed to make the clothes fit, though Alec's were a bit too short.

After stashing the bodies out of sight behind the rocky cairn, they started their way back up the hill. Rebecca had been right, the sun was going down, bathing the realm in the colors of fire and blood. She was walking ahead of the rest of the group, with an almost hungry expression on her face.

A crowd of Endarkened milled around the Dark Gard, which was bathed in blood-red light from the setting sun. Rebecca held up her hand, bringing them to a stop.

"You'd better put your hoods up," she said to Clary and Jace. "You're too recognizable. Actually-" her eyes met everyone else's. "we'd all better put your hoods up." She turned back to look at the Gard. "Hopefully, we can just stroll in." With a funny little shrug, she set off, not checking to see if they were following.


REBECCA

Rebecca felt cold all over - battle coldness, keeping her spine straight, her breath even. They marched past one red-clad warrior - a brown-skinned man, tall and muscular. He paid no attention as they marched past, carefully keeping their faces hidden.

The massive gates were looming upon them now. It was clear that they had been subjected to years of desecration. Their surfaces were chipped and scarred, splashed here and there with ichor and what looked disturbingly like dried human blood.

Valentine's ArrowWhere stories live. Discover now