I waved to Mr Wilde on my way off the locomotive — he did not return the gesture.
Not yet ourselves, we sat in a smoggy tunnel, pale faced and dizzy near the train. I thought over the two significant facts I'd discovered about Kat — how he’d escaped Hell, and his reasons for doing so — a person, or thing called Yuki. I did not dare to ask what he learned about me, better not to know. Eddinray however, did not share this opinion.
"What did you see, my dear? On the train? Did you dream like I did?"
"I did dream," Harmony replied, "but the thing made no sense to me."
The train did not linger at this obscure stop, and starting a chug, it blackened the four of us in soot, then was gone.
"Where are we?" I asked, waving and spluttering.
"Our destination." Kat answered, nudging ahead. "The 9th Fortress lies beyond this tunnel."
I peered at a red light flickering at the end of this tube, my whole body shaking as I tried to comprehend Kat's words. The samurai, meanwhile, was a picture of concern, his senses pestered by the presence of something else — a persistent bloodhound in the shadows and smoke, a malignant spirit he could feel, but not yet see. "Let's go." he said, and, with a hand permanently fixed to the hilt of his sword, he led the way out of the tunnel — toward burning light and the 9th Fortress.
***
The sight of the structure begged my legs to buckle from underneath me. Something so unfathomably tall could hardly be described or imagined. The color of crude oil, her rock, at times, revealed a glimmer of life, a ripple here and a pulse there. It was plant like in growth and feel, alive even, and sprouting far beyond the highest clouds.
The silence was unsettling; this apparently infamous place was like an abandoned bus shelter with no comings or goings; only fluttering bats above and the side winds made any contribution. I almost needed something to happen just to break the tension; I wanted to hear a sample of the suffering behind these walls and windows, those forever held on the brink of second death. "Show me." I grunted. "Come on…"
Pressing ourselves against the substantial outer wall, we crouched toward a set of iron gates suspiciously swinging open.
"If this is a prison," whispered Harmony, at my heels; "why is security so lax?"
"If this is a prison," returned Eddinray, at hers; "why am I here at all?"
In the past, Kat and I had learned the hard way that we would likely be walking into a trap here, and before stopping at the gates, we armed ourselves for an ambush. I removed my sword, Eddinray scraped the wall with his and Harmony placed a sturdy arrow into her longbow.
"Never have I been this close." said Kat, at the gates.
Bending cautiously, he searched through the bars to come face to face with the 9th Fortress. A straightforward stone path ran directly to its mouth, and at each side of that path, a moat of lava popped and stewed. The lava's heat wafting through the bars was immense. The moat's depth was anyone's guess, but we did know that the narrow passage between was our only route into that prison.
"Be ready for anything." I warned them, as the screeching gates fully opened.
"My heart is racing!" said Harmony, following.
Despite myself, I was in awe before this grand jewel in Mephistopheles crown. His 9th Fortress, contaminated home to the worst of the worst; and what a malevolent, and magnificent sight it was.
Past the gates and onto the path, that fiery air caused the sweat to soil my hair and neck, and, already fatigued, the idea of entering this rock and rescuing one of its prisoners was more than a little overwhelming. Where would we even start?
Allowing answers to come to him, Kat's only notion was to walk, and that elementary action triggered the expected, but still highly unusual welcoming committee. From a far off opening, an army marched to meet, or greet, us. Seconds later, and with no apparent help, the iron gates sealed shut with a great clash.
"Oh no!" Harmony panicked, running back to pull on the bars.
"Prepare!" declared Kat, aiming his sword at the incoming horde. They numbered in the hundreds, and we could not distinguish one from another. They were, in fact, identical — wearing rough sacks over their heads, with gaping holes where their mouths should be. Also armed with sabres, this parade now formed into two groups, with each lining the edges of the path a mere step from the moat.
Finally, five feet in front of us, and in one rehearsed motion, the two formation lines stamped their feet then faced each other, leaving a condensed path for us in-between.
"Security." I said, disturbed by the calm in me. "The Fortress was expecting us."
Again, the figures stamped their feet — the sound like cannon fire — then in unison, the formations turned their bagged heads to look at us.
"What now?" whimpered Eddinray.
His answer arrived immediately, as the masked many started a bizarre chant.
"Ow-Ow-Ow! Ow-Ow-Ow!"
Like a vibrating drum, the chant alerted prisoners, who appeared as specks of pink at windows dotted over the rock-face.
"Ow-Ow-Ow! Ow-Ow-Ow!"
"Madness!" cried Eddinray, his sword shielding Harmony. "What does it mean?"
The drum grew to tremendous levels, and grinding his teeth harder than usual, Kat raised his proud face to the colossal 9th Fortress.
"Follow me!" he yelled, guiding us now between the chanting army, whose bagged heads followed our footsteps.
"Are they human?" asked Harmony, rattled. "Alien? What?"
"Ow-Ow-Ow!" Ow-Ow-Ow!"
"They are instinct!" Kat answered. "Machines!"
The sky seemed to blacken with the arrival of thunder, and I could sense a curious Devil watching over this spectacle, a gleeful puppet master pulling on strings.
"I hate this." Harmony whispered, shirking from the ghoulish masks and at ease sabres.
Those prisoners at misshaped windows waved their hands at our approach, either tempting us closer or warning us away. None could hear for the drums.
"Ow-Ow-Ow!" Ow-Ow-Ow!"
The path ended at a prominent wooden door with no handle, or obvious way in. Another abrupt stamping of feet came from the formation, and their monotonous chant now ceased. They remained however, in organised position, and the quiet allowed us to hear the prisoners, their whines like a collection of static.
"2020!" I exclaimed. "We find him… and get the hell out!"
Without warning, the wooden door began to drop — the sound of sliding chains coming from the other side.
"What monster awaits?" cried the knight.
Chains ticked like an ominous countdown, and soon the door was brought down with a hefty slam, covering us over in ancient dust.
When our eyes and throats were clear of it, there was no booby trap or monster, but an arched doorway on the face of the tower, with steps inside, leading upward.
Expecting a fight, we gripped weapons and each other. The tumultuous prisoners suddenly calmed above us, as an important figure now appeared at the doorway. Teased by inner darkness, he was watching us there. Just…watching.
"Who are you?" I yelled, wet with nerves. "Show yourself!"
As instructed, and immediately, a portly man stepped out from the dark and into our sight. He was shorter than average, with boyish features spread over a chubby, middle-aged face. He had a wavy curl of bold black hair on his forehead, and his eyelashes appeared to be scored with the same colour. A grey overcoat fell to his heels, and underneath that, I could make out a white uniform of some kind.
"I am the warden of this facility," he said, a hint of French about his accent. "I bid you all a warm welcome."
"Very warm." said Eddinray, face flushed. "By God sir, what sort of reception do you call this?"
The man was un-phased by our odd-looking ensemble; if anything, he looked pleased by our presence.
"The reception awaits upstairs." he said, tossing a cigarette into the moat. "Your journey is the worst kept secret in Hell. You certainly took your time about it."
Carefully, I offered him my short sword as a show of co-operation, but he refused the gesture with a pithy wave. "Please. I have no use for your little weapons, nor do I need to confiscate them. Unless…you give me reason to?"
"No reason." I said, putting my sword away. "None at all."
I was relieved not to have give up my dagger again; Kat was also content to have his katana with him at all times.
Eddinray was the only one who did not lower his sword. He was too distracted by Harmony, and the pear-shaped tear shimmering down her face. "My dear?" he stuttered. "Do not be afraid of this man!"
The angel spilled more tears without explanation, then masked her face with her hands.
"It's been a long time Harmony." the warden said. "A very…long time."