How fitting,I thought and squeezed Kobal’s hand.
I could feel the power vibrating beneath hisskin, feel his discontent as the markings on his arm rippled. Thehounds were seeking to get free to protect me, perhaps take me fromhere, but he kept them leashed. I couldn’t imagine the strain heendured to make his own body obey his will.
We’ll get throughthis.
Kobal pushed open one of the large woodendoors to reveal the shadowed hall within. The smell of alcohol andmildew drifted out to greet us. I lifted my hand to my nose toblock the stale scents but stopped myself when the loud ting ofpiano music resounded through the air. The upbeat melody brought tomind the movies of dance halls in the twenties I’d seen as a child.Beneath the music, I detected a steady stream of chatter andlaughter.
“Is this a bar?” Vargas blurted.
“The last stop of the night,” Hawk said andslapped his forehead.
“The skelleins built a bar around the gatewayto Hell,” Bale snorted.
“Are you really surprised by that?” Corsoninquired.
“No,” Kobal said.
“Not at all,” Bale replied.
“What is a skellein?” Erin asked.
“You’re about to find out,” Corson answered.“But they are one of the two sub-guardians of the gates.”
“What are the guardians of the gates?”
“I am the main guardian, but we were allcreated to make sure only those who are granted permission areallowed to enter and exit Hell. I control the gateways, theskelleins decide who is worthy of going, and the hounds guard themagainst anyone who would try to attack me or who breaks the rules.Then Lucifer found his own way into Hell and changed it all, andhumans further changed it,” Kobal explained. “Before Luciferarrived, some demons were actually allowed to pass back and forththrough the gates. The guardians all worked together to make sureall the laws were obeyed when a demon was in the human realm.”
“Amazing,” Erin murmured.
“How did the skelleins decide who was worthyof going?” Hawk asked.
“They have tests that must be passed. Anyonebrave enough to approach the skelleins in the first place, alreadypassed the first step. Most demons avoid them,” Kobalcontinued.
“That’s encouraging,” Vargas muttered andglanced toward the inside of the bar.
“It will be fine,” Corson replied. “Kobal isthe king, after all.”
“As fellow gatekeepers, the skelleins havealmost always been on their own,” Kobal replied. He glanced down atme. “They may not have been born of the Fires of Creation likemyself and the hounds, but they share a bond with us. It’s not asclose, but it is there. They’re also not fond of orders.”
I smiled at him even though I had no ideawhat to make of this. Kobal kept the door open for me to stepinside. Flickering torches hung in the bronzed sconces lining thewalls of the stairs leading up before me. The maroon carpet on thesteps was threadbare in some spots and in desperate need of acleaning, but I could still make out blue and gold swirls runningthrough it. Another set of stairs led down to a lower floor, but notorches lit the way and I couldn’t see much through the shadowsdarkening the bottom of the steps.
Kobal locked his arm securely around my waistbefore resting his hand on the wooden rail. The piano music diedaway for a few seconds as we climbed the staircase before someonebegan to pound enthusiastically on the keys again.
Arriving at the top of the stairs, I frozewith my foot in midair. My heart slammed against my ribs as mystunned brain tried to process what it was seeing.
Itcouldn’tbe, but itwas.
My foot hit the floor as the others steppedoff the stairs behind us. Before me, a horseshoe shaped bar took upalmost the entire floor. At least a dozen tables were scatteredaround in what I could only call the restaurant area. However, Ididn’t think these creatures did much eating, at least not of food.Pieces of wood, jigsaw puzzles, boxes, and other assorted thingswere scattered across the tables and the surface of the bar. I waspretty sure I saw a Rubik’s Cube in the back.
All of the tables were occupied, but most ofthe patrons were gathered around the bar with mugs full of beersitting before them. They all turned, as one, toward us the secondthe piano stopped playing. Silence descended over the bar, and mybreathing sounded labored in my ears while I struggled to processwhat I was seeing.
I jumped and nearly screamed when a cuckooclock in the corner went off. My eyes were drawn to it as the birdslid out and yelled cuckoo seven times before disappearing. Silenceonce more descended, but this time I could make out the tick of theseconds on the clock.
“Holy shit,” Vargas muttered.
In the dim glow of the torches surroundingthe bar, over a hundred or so skulls stared at us, shining like amirror reflecting a flash. There were no eyes in their emptysockets, yet I felt as if every one of their gazes burned intous.
Some of them wore hats, some wore ties, andothers had flowers or necklaces draped around their necks, but theydidn’t wear pants or shirts or dresses. Going by the differentaccessories they sported, I could guess at which ones were male andwhich were female, but there was no other way to tell thedifference.
