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With an abrupt twitch of his shoulder, he shifted beneath me. “Tentacle arms?”
“I didn’t really see much of them. He was standing behind me. We were in a place I recognized. A recurring dream I’ve had. A place with endless rooms and passages that disappeared into shadows. Hidden rooms, like an enormous labyrinth.”
“You have these dreams often?” he asked, running his finger up and down my arm.
“More so in the last couple of months. Well, since that night. But the rooms aren’t new. And I can see the door knocker at the entrance. Devils with ghastly faces and strange gargoyles that feel like they’re moving. I’m always scared to enter this place. There’s such a horrible feeling that I can’t leave once I go inside.”
Again, I felt him twitch beneath me. “These gargoyles … are they perched upon a stone ledge of skulls?”
“Yes. You’ve seen them?”
“I have.”
I shot my gaze to his. “Where?”
“The entrance to Infernium. It’s an asylum in Nightshade.”
“Asylum?” I frowned at that. Yet another strange oddity. Half of my brain wanted to believe it was all a string of odd coincidences. The other half knew better. “So, this isn’t a place I would’ve seen in Nightshade? One of those weird echoes you told me about?”
“I very much doubt you’d be here now if you had. Very few ever leave Infernium. And of those who do, no one can forget having been there.”
“Why would I know of it? How could I remember such details if I’ve never been there?”
“I do not know the answer to that. I am equally baffled.” Wearing a contemplative expression, he stroked a finger across my shoulder as he stared off toward the end of the bed.
“Did Lustina ever cross over? Is it possible it’s a memory of hers?”
“I was not well-versed on crossing over back then. The only asylum in Praecepsia was run by the Pentacrux. I will admit that, although it was equally unsettling, there’s a difference between those who are essentially still alive, and those who do not realize they’ve passed on.”
Could there have been anything more terrifying than an asylum in the afterlife? A place where a soul might never have the opportunity to leave? “There is no escape from the mind, then? Whether you’re alive, or dead.”
“No. And too often, those who are lost, whose faith has deteriorated over time, find themselves in Infernium. Unfortunately, there are no angels looking after them there, and the most vulnerable become easy prey.”
“Prey to what?”
He lifted a lock of my hair, letting it slide through his fingers. “The demons who haunt them.”
“So, how does one end up in an asylum in the afterlife?”
He rolled onto his back, tucking a muscled bicep beneath his head. “The same way they do here, I suppose. Some hear voices, telling them to do unspeakable things. Some see things. Of course, they’re just more in tune to what others refuse to see. Vulnerable, really.”
“I’ve had hallucinations.”
“What kind of hallucinations?”
“Things that aren’t there. Eyes watching me. Paint peeling.”A nurse blowing black smoke in my face. “It’s like a dream, but when I snap out of it, they’re gone.”
“It’s possible they’re not hallucinations, Farryn. Bear in mind, you’re privy to things that most are not. The infernal are probably chomping at the bit for a soul as pure as yours.”
The idea of that prickled my skin. “It’s only the baby that keeps them from claiming it now?”
“Yes.”
Thoughts spun wild inside my head, ones I’d considered before, but didn’t bother to speak aloud. “What will childbirth be like there? In Nightshade?”
“Different from here. There’s a physician, skilled, but exceptionally old fashioned, who comes to the Cathedral on call.”
“Human?” Given the fact so many in Nightshade had forgotten their lives and memories, it didn’t seem likely their education would survive the transition to Purgatory.
