Page 91 of To Dwell in Shadows
It was barking.
It was distant at first, but it gradually grew louder. She dismissed it as her imagination. A result of all the spirits trying to get their messages to her.
She caught the sound of another bark, followed by a high-pitched yip. Then a third, unmistakably like Zetta’s howl.
Suddenly, she felt a blast of heat, like a furnace flaring to life, and the horde of spirits surrounding her broke apart.
Selene’s legs gave way, her knees slamming painfully into the ground. She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for what might come next. Then something warm, wet, and gasoline-scented swiped across her cheek. Gasping for breath, Selene opened her eyes to find Zetta sitting in front of her, tail thumping.
But she hadn’t come alone.
The hellhounds had arrived—all thirteen of them—and they were herding the spirits away from her like a pack of determined sheepdogs. Some of the hounds were blasting burning red fire from their throats. Most souls zoomed away down the maze’s corridors to escape; others pressed themselves into corners, watching the hounds fearfully.
Selene looped her arms around Zetta’s neck, hugging her with relief. “How did you know?” she asked into Zetta’s fur. The hellhound leaned into her, resting her great head on Selene’s shoulder.
Ahem,said a Drago floating above her.You said you would listen to our stories!
Selene leaned back and replied, “And so I will. But one at a time.” This time, the shadows easily zipped from her mouth to the spirit.
Meanwhile, a hellhound with streaks of gray in his coat was barking furiously at a trio of Nereid spirits huddled together. Another dog, with eerie yellow eyes, stood on his hind legs, paws pressed against a wall to snap at a trembling Goblyn. Seeing her packso worked up seemed to excite Zetta, and she started zooming around the other dogs.
Selene watched her for a moment, then called, “Zetta, come!”
Instantly, all of Zetta’s counterparts froze. One by one, they turned toward Selene, then bounded toward her expectantly. She stared that them, dumbfounded for a moment. Until a slow smile spread across her face.
“Sit,” she said hesitantly.
Without hesitation, the hellhounds obeyed, settling onto their haunches in front of her. Now that they were still, she studied each dog more closely. Some had blood on their muzzles, and a few were favoring one paw. It made her wonder how they had all escaped from the kennels. Surely, they couldn’t have run all the way here… could they? She had only spent time alone with Zetta, but now every single one of them was gazing at her with unwavering devotion.
Looking past the dogs, Selene saw the spirits of Sam’s victims still hovering, impatiently waiting for her to fulfill her promise. She looked back at Zetta and said, “I don’t know how to train you for this, but I need to see one spirit at a time.”
She held up a finger and repeated, “One at a time.” She pointed to the spirit, then to the dog. “Do you understand? One at a time.”
Zetta tilted her head with confusion, and Selene made a frustrated noise.
This is never going to work.
But before she could think about a plan B, the gray-streaked dog stood and trotted to the nearest spirit, a Sasquatch-shaped Vowa. With a gentle nudge of his nose, he guided the spirit forward, causing Selene to clap excitedly. “Yes! Good job!”
The gray dog seemed delighted by the praise. Selene continued, “Can you keep doing that? Bring me one spirit at a time.”
When the Vowa spirit floated hesitantly toward her, several others tried to follow. But the gray dog blocked them with a low growl. A few other tried to sneak around the Vowa, but the other dogs herded them back.
Without waiting for an invitation, the Vowa began to share his story. He told Selene how he had gotten into debt from a bad business deal. When a traveling wagon show came to town, he thought he could win some of his losses back by fighting a demon…
The other dogs, less interested in herding, closed in around her as the Vowa continued his story. One hellhound rested its heavy chin on her thigh. Another flopped down at her feet. Zetta curled up against Selene’s hip, as if supervising the gray hound’s efforts to usher the spirits to her, one by one.
And so, Selene remained there for many hours, surrounded by hellhounds, listening to the stories and carefully recording the names of each spirit Sam had killed.
When the last spirit told his story, the sky was growing orange with the light of morning. Most of the hellhounds had fallen asleep, but Zetta and the gray-streaked one—whom Selene had nicknamed Smoky—remained as alert as ever, carefully watching the spirits and barking warnings whenever one ventured too close.
None of the stories were easy to hear. Most of the Aurelians Sam had killed were either those who had entangled themselves in vampire affairs and paid the price, or brash hooligans seeking notoriety by challenging a demon.
Each had died with regrets. Fractured families, wasted potential, and poor choices were a common thread among the stories. Many demanded that Selene help them cross over the moment they finished their tale, while others simply vanished before her eyes. Most only wanted messages of love conveyed to their families.
She had expected to see more vampires from the rampage Sam had unleashed to kill his captors, but since it was technically their second death, they must have transitioned immediately.
Slowly, she rose to her feet. Her back ached from sitting on the ground for so long, and her knees had grown stiff. The hellhoundsbegan to stir too, yawning and extending their front paws to stretch their backs.
