He flies up at first, far too high for my liking. I can tell by how much closer the false sun is to us, and I have no interest in looking at whatever insane view he wants me to see.
“Nope!” I squeeze my eyes tightly shut. “I’ll pass!”
Then he takes me over the mansions on the third tier. At his insistence, I take one glance over my shoulder. I can’t see whatever he’s trying to show me, because I can only focus on the terrifying drop. “Yep! So cool!”
Next, he flies low over the farmland. I try to look at what he claims are cornfields, but we’re moving so fast that my eyes water, and everything is a blur of color.
“Maybe we can… uh… walk… th-the rest?”
Mercifully, he drops us onto a wide staircase of clean white stone, and I’m finally able to return to my own two feet. Still trembling, I mutter my thanks before immediately beginning to descend the stairs in an effort to occupy myself.
There’s a sloping street to my side, and even further is another set of stairs, seemingly for going up instead of down. Traffic on the road is sparse, with only a few locusts hauling carts with lightly clattering wheels. Compared to the air, it’s actually quite peaceful. At least, it is when we’re surrounded by the cornfields.
When we get to the next crop, I almost lose my lunch. Vines grow on the ground like pumpkins—except their pumpkins are translucent sacks, each filled with something that looks disturbingly like chunks of raw flesh.
The consistency of their practice dummies makessomuch more sense now.
How absolutely repulsive and… incredibly innovative of them. Environmentally friendly, sustainably sourced meat sacks. I can’t really blame them for inventing it, considering humans have been trying to grow meat in petri dishes for many years now. Maybe I can sneak some seeds back with me, just to see what happens—no, what am I thinking, that issucha bad idea. I can think of countless ways that could go horribly wrong.
Desperate to distract myself from my intrusive thoughts, I turn my focus to Abaddon.
“Yes?” he says immediately, not even looking my way.
“I was just, um… wondering… if the city inside the Abyss has a name.” Decent enough of a save. It must be a logical question, too, because he looks slightly contemplative.
Or maybe it was a dumb question. Maybe he’s trying to understand how I could have been here this long and still not know its name?—
“No. It is just the Abyss. Why would it have any other name?”
“Well…” I’m surprised that my distraction actually worked. “When you open the gates in Israel, is that not where the Abyss begins?”
“Yes.”
“So should the Abyss proper—the actual city—not have its own name? To differentiate it from the rest of the territory?”
“It does not need one. We simply refer to whichever location in the Abyss we’re speaking of.”
“Such as…?”
“The castle, the blackwater river, the bottomless pit, the gates, the central bazaar?—”
“Okay, okay. I get it. No need to list all of them.” I skim a hand over my braid before tossing it onto my back. I’m far from socially extroverted, but Abaddon isnota conversationalist by anyone’s measures. Talking to him is like pulling teeth.
So, we walk down the rest of the long stairs in silence, all the way down to the first tier. It’s occupied by neighborhood after neighborhood, each having its own distinctive features. In the absence of good conversation, I take to observing the little microcosms of cultures.
At some point in time, a trio of small, short locusts burst past us, chattering amongst themselves. They seem completely oblivious to the presence of their King, almost chasing each other. And their skin is not nearly as wrinkled, either...
My eyes light up.
“Abaddon,” I whisper loudly, grabbing his attention. I make sure to wait until he turns around—staring at me like he hasn’t been this miserably bored since the Dark Ages—before I continue. “Were those little locustschildren?”
“Yes.”
“Do they hatch from eggs, or are they born like humans?”
“Eggs, of course. They’re not mammals.”
“Well, how the fuck was I supposed to know that? You pulled me out of locust school for PT and meditation.”
