Demon Bound

built two—probably a temporary one, and then a more permanent temple he built while he entrusted the remaining Guardians to guard the sarcophagus. And he must have done it quickly, because the concealment spells were already in place when Aaron and I came here to await Zakril.”
    “Who’s Aaron?”
    Khavi pointed at the table. “My husband. Like Zakril, he had a Gift for shaping stone. And he sacrificed himself to save me when Belial ambushed us.”
    Behind her, she felt Jake’s wince. “Oh, damn. Sorry. I didn’t realize.”
    Khavi frowned at him. “How could you not? There is a Gate. Obviously, a Guardian sacrificed himself for another here.” Her gaze rested on Alice. “A Gate is not a companion.”
    No, it wasn’t. Alice’s throat ached unbearably. “Zakril never returned.”
    “I knew he would not. I no longer see him—have not seen him since I came here. Until Michael comes, there will have been only you, your companion, and Belial.” She paused, and visibly shuddered. “Who has almost arrived. You must leave now, so I have time to close the Gate. Please, do not delay in telling Michael that I await him.”
    His arms still wrapped around her middle, Jake urged Alice forward. “We won’t.”
    “A moment.” Alice called in a unit of vampire blood. “Please feed this to the weaver. Perhaps she’ll survive until we return with Michael.”
    Confusion crossed Khavi’s face, but she accepted the bag. “I will try. Now—”
    “Hold on,” Jake said. “One more thing—Belial’s been using you as his personal little oracle, hasn’t he? You’ve been telling his future—”
    He broke off as Khavi held out a rolled parchment. Alice took the scroll—and because it was not a Scroll , she vanished it.
    “That is what you will request,” Khavi said. “The prophecy I gave to Belial.”
    Jake laughed softly into Alice’s hair, and paused in front of the Gate to ask, “Did you tell Belial the truth?”
    “Yes.” Her smile was thin and amused. “But not all of it.”

CHAPTER 17
    Shockingly cold water enveloped Alice the moment she stepped through the Gate. She contained her gasp, sealed her mouth. She’d breathed underwater once before, and did not want to repeat the experience—the burning pain as water entered her lungs, the indignity of heaving it out.
    She swam forward, giving Jake room to clear the Gate. After a few arm strokes, she came up against a smooth white wall that completely encircled them, as if they were in the shaft of a giant well. Light shone from above; she could not see the bottom.
    She couldn’t guess where they were. Obviously not in the sea surrounding Caelum—not if the walls surrounded them .
    The hum of the Gate disappeared. Khavi hadn’t delayed closing it.
    Her dark hair floated around Alice’s shoulders as she faced Jake. He stared upward, and a grin slowly widened his mouth.
    You won’t believe what this is, he signed.
    What? she asked, but he only took her hand, and dug the toes of his boots against the wall to propel them up faster than they could have swum.
    They didn’t have far to go—only one or two hundred meters. Alice broke the surface first, blinking in astonishment through a sheet of falling water.
    They were in a fountain at the center of an unfamiliar courtyard. But she recognized the buildings and towers around them; this was near the Archives and Michael’s temple. From outside the courtyard, she heard several Guardians talking, and sensed more psyches than had been in Caelum at one time since the Ascension.
    For the gathering Michael had called, she realized.
    Behind her, Jake began laughing. First in relief, then harder. She turned just as he went under. He bobbed up an instant later, choking and sputtering, but still laughing.
    Seeing that he was unable to share the joke, she swam nearer to him, and saw the words inscribed in Latin at the bottom of an obelisk.
    “Deeper than you think,” she translated in disbelief, and set Jake off again. He sank, came up, and coughed out another mouthful of water.
    She couldn’t hold back her own laugh after that. It shook through her, and she steadied herself against the obelisk, running her fingers over the inscription.
    Someone had a very strange sense of humor.

    Alice dried her clothes as they walked to the square facing Michael’s temple, but the stench of Hell still clung to her dress, her hair, her skin. But there was no time to wash properly, and the smell would provide the answer