Page 98 of The Sinner and the Gunslinger
“You’ve always been able to do anything you set your mind to. I believe in you.”
I open my eyes and tighten the straps on my backpack.
“Wait here,” I say.
He grabs my hand as I leave, stopping me. “Leila. You can’t be serious. It’s an inferno.”
I smile at him. “I’ll be back.”
A moment of silence stretches. I’m sure it’s only a second, but it feels like an eternity. He has to trust me, or this doesn’t work.
“Promise?” he croaks.
“Cross my heart.”
His hand slides down my arm, then I run into the flames.
Thirty-Six
Leila
I’m unsure which keeps me safe, Snuggles or the Helwinga concoction, but I emerge unscathed from the wall of flames outside the church. The inside is empty except for a stone altar shrouded in smoke at the end, and the shadow of a man disappearing there.
The funny thing about being afraid of fire my entire life is that now I know everything about surviving it. I cover my mouth with my sleeve, keep low, and move toward the altar.
Behind it is the crypt. A heavy concrete lid has been shifted to the side, revealing steps leading down. As long as there’s air down there, I should be able to wait out the fire if it worsens. But it’s mainly stone. I don’t expect the flames to last long.
Steeling my resolve, I descend the steps, twirling my sanctified dagger in my hand. The musty smell increases. I hit the bottom and keep walking down a dark narrow tunnel covered in cobwebs. A flash of fire ahead brightens the corridor from about thirty feet away. I shield my eyes as Asmodeus burns the tomb door to cinders and then walks inside.
Something stops me from rushing after him. Now that the door is open, I feel something strange in the air. It’s almost electrical. Magnetic.
The relic.
I wasn’t entirely sure it was meant for me. But now that I feel its power calling out to me, I have no more doubts. I swallow my fear and put one foot in front of another. I keep going until I enter the large stone room. Magnetic electricity buzzes against my skin. It’s so strong I can’t tell where it originates.
Candles flicker in brass wall sconces around the tomb. Asmodeus must have lit them before walking toward the sarcophagus on the raised dais. Helwinga flowers are carved into the stone coffin. On the wall behind, an inscription is carved onto a plaque. It’s in Romanian, German, and English. When I read, a slow smile splits my face.
Here lies Dorothea Helwing, who never stopped being a Hildegard.
I let Asmodeus climb the steps to the sarcophagus. Instead of chasing him, I check my surroundings, looking for clues and feeling out the holy energy source. The walls are painted with figures watching over Dorothea’s body. Sigils are everywhere, hiding in plain sight behind the painted flowers. Some of them I recognize, some I don’t. This tomb has been booby-trapped. I just need to figure out what and how it will help me.
The sarcophagus lid grates as Asmodeus slides it open, but I don’t look his way. My gaze snags on something that doesn’t belong before the wall beside me.
Snuggles sits on the floor before a particular painted figure, his floppy head bowed. I reach behind me and find the string that held him has been broken... or cut. He either fell, or Claudia was right and my ancestors did their thing. I choose the latter because I feel the power thrumming behind Snuggles like waves of hot air pulsing against my face. It must be fate.
I study the peeling painting above Snuggles. It’s of a fierce woman in black robes. She holds a sword in one hand and a rosary in another. The faded red cross on her chest slides the last puzzle piece into place. She’s a Sinner. And she’s looking down at Snuggles.
Not Snuggles.
The loose brick beneath her foot—where she steps on a dead dragon. Power thrums through that brick. My heart leaps into my throat. Dorothea was a Sinner who never quit her mission. She wouldn’t leave a holy relic capable of killing our enemy somewhere obvious. She would let her Sinner sisters watch her back, even in death. Hearing Asmodeus preoccupied with ransacking the coffin, I drop to my knees and stab my dagger into the gap between the loose brick and the next. Driven by the energy calling me, I jimmy the brick forward. When it’s about to fall, I grab Snuggles to save him from being crushed.
A shadow looms on the wall before me, flickering from the candlelight.Asmodeus. I gasp, turning and raising my hands as a shield. But it’s no use. Fire engulfs me. Heat blisters my skin, burning away the last remnants of Helwinga like it’s dust. I’m dying. Burning alive. But somehow, when the flames extinguish, I still kneel with my hands held out. And Snuggles in them.
Unburned.
We’re both safe. I’d picked him up just in time. He truly is my guardian angel. Through the smoke ahead, Asmodeus’s body slowly takes shape. His black eyes widen when he sees my toy.
“That’s absurd,” he snarls.
