The Chamber of Sins
Chapter 10.3 "Prepared to die"

Lilleshall’s domain was the same as Robert remembered. He sat for a few minutes on the generous balcony, opening onto the private garden, and took a deep breath of the air infused with the scents of flowering flowers. Then, with rare opulence, they danced slowly, caressed by the mild wind. He let the fresh air fill his lungs.

The sky had the purest blue he had ever seen, and solitary clouds cast trembling shadowy patches on the grassy areas. Birds were tweeting mysterious messages into the air while the boy smiled and continued his way to the private cemetery.

Inside the pit, the air was pungent with the smell of decaying flesh. Robert landed on the bone bed; they crackled under his feet as he went through the tunnel. No sentinels, he thought.

A thin blurry fog, like a red Aurora Borealis, floated in the air. It spread its net and adorned the vapid walls for the significant events to come. The boy increased his pace, wishing everything to end faster, praying to God to have mercy and save them all.

The nest sensed his approach and started boiling, spirals of red liquid climbing on the walls. Robert straightened his vest on his torso, grabbed his hatch, and gawked at his enemy.

Let’s do this!

He flew in the air for a few seconds, scanning everything around. The queen was there, a cage of intertwined vines covering it. The boy looked disappointed at the grid. A cord snapped from the wall, aiming at his heart. He cut thru it in a second. Hundreds of others followed, not giving him the time to rest. The uneven fight continued for hours, and he didn’t advance, not even an inch. The vines pierced through his flesh, leaving behind burning spots. He retreated inside the tunnel, trying to rest and to find a solution. He wouldn’t go back without winning or dying. Robert acknowledged it, even if it wasn’t a solution.

He thought of Margo for a second. Her warm embrace, that one time, gave him a little hope. Robert was tired yet not defeated. The boy slid his hand inside the inner pocket and grabbed the rod given by Gabriel. He repeated the movement, and the Lionette’s gift appeared. He drank the vial content, and keeping the rod tight, he flew over the demonic nest. He aimed at the centre of the nest and started descending. He dived into the intricate weave, its threads cutting into his skin.

It stopped his fall for a second, but as the rod touched it, it melted away. Robert sensed the liquid contracting, almost terrified by its eminent end. He dived deeper, and while reaching the bottom, he stung the branch inside the queen’s sanctuary. The liquid attacked him violently, pushing him with an extraordinary force underwater, leaving him without breath.

Robert struggled for a while, the bloody water entering his eyes and into his mouth. Eventually, everything went black.

He seemed so comfortable as his body dissipated and his spirit uplifted above the water. The boy saw his body floating on the surface. The water started discolouring and changing into pale pink and then white. Its level grew and lowered like the seawater during the tide, only to explode with every universe colour. And then the white replaced everything. There was a primary alteration in time and dimension, and he experienced all the eternity in one second, as then that one second expanded into all of eternity.

He was still connected with his mortal body, and from up there, the boy knew his heartbeat stopped, and the silence prevailed.

Lionette led the way as she and Stephionee roamed on the streets of Newport. With the compass in her left hand, she trotted hopefully along the wet pavements. The rain poured hard, with generous droplets of pure water smashing boisterously at the contact with her rain jacket. Some of them trickled from her damp hair, continued their way on her wrinkled neck and snicked inside her blouse, electrifying her skin with every touch. She hoped that the warm, green light of the compass to lead her to her granddaughter’s hideout.

She heard Stephionee’s heavy steps echoing behind her, and she stopped.

“I was thinking,” Lionette said, her words coming out slowly. “Where would she go beside the orphanage? She doesn’t have any friends. She must be so lonely and scared.”

Her salty tears mixed with freshly chilly rain. “My poor baby,” she cried. “There is nobody there for her, nobody at all.”

Stephionee embraced her, her warm breath patting Lionette’s face.

“I am sure there is someone. Your granddaughter is not alone.”

Lionette gasped.

“She is not alone,” the woman repeated as the Stephionee’s embrace comforted her. “She is...” Lionette pushed Stephionee away, only to pull her back and kiss her on the cheeks.

“She is not alone. She had never been alone. She was with her grandfather, and I know she is with him now,” the woman exhilarated.

“And where would be that?” Stephionee asked, surprised.

“At my family’s house,” Lionette said and exhaled a significant quantity of air.

Adrian glared at Anna, who was walking in front of him. She looked normal from behind. Then, as if knowing he was looking at her, the girl turned.

“She is in that direction,” she said, her voice rough while pointing a parallel street.

The boy’s eyes shifted to the pavement. He disliked her more than feared her. Being around her was a stupid idea, and he hated himself for it. However, his game was simple, and the compensation was enough to feed his wounded ego. He had never been greedy.

And what is Salatiel’s story, anyway?

He had a bad feeling about this. The chilly drop of rain squeezed inside his blouse. I wouldn’t say I like the rain. I want to go home, he thought.

“We are here,” Anna said. A Georgian house built with russet bricks, sash windows and boasting a remarkable symmetry as its dominant feature stood in front of them. Windows displayed multiple panes, standing in the spotlight across the front of the house. Corners with decorative quoins flanked it. The front door was smacked at the centre and surrounded by columns as corners with decorative quoins flanked it.

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