Arija and The Burning City: Hall of Doors, #3

By zachary chopchinski

"Welcome to hell, ladies and gents, where the demons are monsters and so are the angels."

 

In a city filled with angels and demons, the real monsters are harder to find.

 

When Arija jumps through a portal, she finds herself in the most beautiful city she's ever seen. But looks can be deceiving. Has she found a paradise, or is it hell?

 

Adal can't believe he let Arija go into the portal alone. When he goes in looking for her, he finds himself in a hellscape. With a demon around every corner, Adal must find his girlfriend before it's too late.

 

But someone watches from the shadows.

 

When heaven and hell collide, Adal and Arija must figure out who they can trust. Will they solve the puzzle before it's too late?     

• Language: English
• Publisher: zachary chopchinski
• Release date: Jan 8, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393125112

Book preview

Arija and The Burning City© 2018Zachary Paul Chopchinski

All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law.

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

Arija and The Burning City/Zachary P. Chopchinski—2nd ed. Printed in the United States of America.

2019. Published by Books & Bow Ties Publishing Orlando, FL.

Edited by Megan Cutler

Cover design by Molly Phipps

Author photo by Jessica Verge Photography

B&B%20Publishing/Books%20&%20Bow%20Ties%20Logo%20-%20PNG.png

Praise For

Arija and The Burning City

Arija and the Burning City has raised the bar. Bravo.

-Bianca Eksteen, S.J’s Book Blog

Arija and the Burning City is like an action movie put to paper. Very fast and full of humor, and the use of modern-day mythology type characters and background makes for an interesting story."

-Amazon Reviewer

OMG this is Zach’s best book yet. He just keeps getting better and better.

-Goodreads Reviewer

Acknowledgements

Man, was this book a wild ride. So many fantastic friends and fellow authors helped make this what it was. After what felt like a battle into the very Hell’s this tale takes place in, and with the support of my loving wife, we finally made that big leap. Thank you to Ditter Kellen for everything and for driving this thing forward. To all my friends and associates involved with the original journey of this novel, we did it! Good job!

To my partner, my best friend, my love, my wife. In all things, you will always be my favorite. The world for you, my love.

Black as the Devil, hot as Hell, pure as an angel, sweet as love.

- Charles Maurice de Talleyrand

More From Zach

The Gabrielle Series:

The Curious Tale of Gabrielle

Curiosity and The Hounds of Arawn

Curiosity and The Sentient’s Oblation

Curiosity and Arawn’s Penance

The Hall of Doors Series:

Webley and The World Machine

Webley and The World Machine Coloring Book

Kip and The Grinders

Arija and The Burning City

Hall of Doors Coloring Book Volume 1

Ypsilon and The Plague Doctor

Van and The Demon Army

Kip and The Bloody Red

Adal and The Time Travelers

Maza and The Pyramids

Molly and The Hunted

The Tinkerers and The Golden City

Others:

From Now On: The Last Words Anthology

Part 1

Heaven and Hell

1|Saving The World Sucks Ass

C:\Users\venturini-lx\Desktop\AdobeStock_53656045.jpeg

We can’t keep chasing this kid through all these insane worlds! Adal shouted, his chest swelling with each breath. I don’t give a shit what you think’s right! He stood in front of the portal; his arms crossed over his chest.

Adal couldn’t read the plaque that told him where the swirling aura of light led. Several deep scratches gouged out the letters, not giving him any fuzzy feelings.

He brought his gaze up to meet Arija’s. She clearly wasn’t having any of his shit.

Seriously? We’re going to let someone drag him away and not go after him? How is this even a discussion? she shot back, one hand propped on her hip.

Hey, he made the choice- Adal began.

Look, he’s acting out because his mother died. He needs us to give him some structure, some guidance and let him know we won’t abandon him. And you being an asshole every time he lashes out isn’t helping. The kid just needs love, Arija insisted. Now, someone has taken him, and we have to get him back.

He’s not a toddler, Arija, he’s a teenager. Stop coddling him. Normally, Adal found her attitude sexy. Not now. His patience had worn thin.

Kip had been jumping through portals left and right since Avani died, and it exhausted Adal every time he had to bail him out.

Sometimes Adal wished Webley had never shown them the Hall of Doors, the room in the World Machine that housed all of the portals that led to hundreds of different worlds. We don’t even know if someone took him. His workshop is always a mess. He probably just ran away. We both know he’s always getting into trouble. It’s what Kip does.

Adal realized it was bullshit as soon as he said it, but he couldn’t leave Webley again. The war between Webley and those that wanted to take over the World Machine was his fault. Ever since he and Arija found that elevator in the woods that took them down into the city of iron and bronze that thrived in the center of the Earth, things had been spiraling out of control. And if he didn’t help Webley fix it, Earth would be in serious trouble.

Arija glared at him, her deep brown gaze drilling a hole in his head. Then stay. I’ll go by myself.

Adal fell silent. They hadn’t split up since they’d arrived in the World Machine. He didn’t like letting her go to another world without him, but he’d promised Webley they'd help restore order. Besides, if he went with her, that would mean she won the argument and his pride wouldn’t let him relent.

Fine. Go. You’re a big girl, you can handle yourself. You don’t need me to along for the ride. Adal threw a hand in the air for emphasis.

Arija glared at him. You're an ass, Adal. She turned on her heels and strode to the swirling portal in the center of the room. Without a backward glance, she jumped into the light.

The Hall of Doors fell silent except for the static hum of the machinery. Adal clenched his teeth, every muscle in his body tensing in frustration. Dammit, Arija.

Brooding, Adal paced the large, circular room and swept his gaze over the various pieces of machinery that lined the walls.

He paused at the control panel that powered the entire thing. All the switches indicating countless worlds Webley had linked, stared back at him, urging him to make the right choice.

Adal wondered what creatures inhabited this new place Arija and Kip now explored. Then his thoughts turned to the deal he’d made with Webley. He’d promised the giant alien leader of the World Machine that they would use the Hall of Doors to explore and chart the connected worlds, but maybe it wasn’t the brightest idea. Why even bother?

Adal looked once more at the destroyed bronze label. He should have gone with Arija.

He tried to convince himself that Kip had made a childish choice, running to another world to explore. It wasn't as if he hadn’t done it before, but the knots in Adal’s gut told him that was wrong.

Pushing away from the controller, Adal grunted. This shit wasn’t his problem. Kip was fine when they found him in Taraveil, the last world he’d jumped to. He was running deep with the rebellion, being hunted by law enforcement and could have gotten himself killed, but everything had turned out all right.

Arija was tough. She could handle herself. She kicked more ass than any other girl Adal had ever met and was the brains of their operation. She usually ended up saving him; she wouldn’t get herself into trouble. That wasn’t her style.

Once out of the Hall and back into the open expanse of the girders and gargantuan gears that made up the World Machine, Adal took a deep breath. The steam from the machines and the mechanical music this world created soothed him.

Within an hour, he'd be back at Webley’s house, or in the capital city of Aparat having coffee and waiting for Arija to return with Kip in tow.

He shrugged and strode across the platform to the mobile clinic that Kip had designed, which had become their standard mode of transportation.

He managed only the first step onto the ramp when he froze. He couldn’t shake the thought that something bad would happen.

His stomach twisted and turned, acid rising up his throat as if in warning. A sign he needed to go back. What the hell is wrong with me? he whispered. Get your black ass back in there and help your girl. When did you become such a damn coward?

Adal pursed his lips in anger and disgust. What in God’s name was he running from? He needed to turn around and back his girlfriend’s play.

Let’s go save the day... again, he growled, storming into the Hall of Doors.

2|The Clean Room

C:\Users\venturini-lx\Desktop\AdobeStock_53656045.jpeg

Arija woke in a groggy mess. Her head was buzzing and impossibly heavy as she tried to force her eyelids open. Her last memory was of fighting with Adal back in the Hall, jumping through the light and then waking up here. Something was wrong. She’d never blacked out after jumping through a portal.

Bright light stung her eyes, and it took her a few moments of blinking before she could adjust.

Rubbing the back of her hand on her face, Arija realized she was looking at a giant window.  The sun pierced the glass, lighting everything around her in a golden hue.

She tried to stand, but the floor sank under her weight. With her head still spinning, she scowled at the fluffy mattress she was lying on. What the? The words came out in a slur.

Panic rippled through her. She reached for the dagger she normally kept in her boot, only to feel the soft touch of flesh beneath her fingers.

Her brow furrowed, her gaze sliding down her naked legs to her bare feet. Her heart sped up, and she fumbled for the revolver at her hip only to find a silky soft fabric clinging to her.

Arija pushed herself into a sitting position, covering her mostly naked form with her hands.

Instead of her clothing, white silk coiled around her body, leaving her legs, shoulders and midriff bare.

Arija’s heart pounded in her chest. Someone had changed her.

What had happened? She wracked her brain, straining to remember, unsure if she wanted the truth.

She shot up from the bed and wrapped the silk sheet around her body as she ran to the closest wall.

Her head still spun from the trip, and she had a massive headache, but she had to figure out how to get out of there.

Taking an unsteady breath, Arija studied her surroundings. A giant four-poster bed sat in the middle of the room with one wall consumed by large a window. Everything was white.  Nothing like waking up in a strange place wearing panties that weren’t yours to start a search and rescue mission. She'd kill Kip when she found him.

What the hell is happening here?

Arija? a familiar voice called out.

The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. Her gaze swept the white-washed chamber for the origin of the voice.

Kip stood in what appeared to be an oversized golden birdcage hanging from the ceiling on the opposite side of the room. How had she not noticed him earlier?

Kip! Arija yelled, running over to the young mechanical boy. The thirteen-year-old orphan still wore his mechanic's suspenders and newsboy cap. His perfectly smooth brass face was scrunched with worry, making his rust colored freckles stand out even more.

Arija, how did you find me? he asked, kneeling to be closer to her.

She rushed toward the cage, leaping into the air in an attempt to grab the handle and free him. She could almost reach but her fingers only grazed the bottom of his enclosure.

Doesn’t matter. I tried. It’s locked, Kip added, sitting cross-legged.

What’s happening? Where are we? Who brought me here? Arija tried her best to not sound as freaked out as she felt.

I don't know. We’re in a bedroom or something. Nobody brought you here. You appeared on the bed a few minutes ago in a flash of light. Kip stood, shaking the cage door.

So, I appeared here? Like... this? she asked, pulling the sheet tighter around her body.

Yeah, I’m not sure why you’re dressed like that. Nice butt, by the way.

Arija’s cheeks heated up. Shut up.

Nothing made sense. How could she have gotten there without someone bringing her? She didn’t know, but she would make damn sure whoever did, paid for it. She needed to find her clothes first.

Sorry. I was just kidding. Besides, you aren't my type, Kip teased, a flush coming to his face. 

Have you seen anyone since you’ve been here?

Yeah, the little one, but not the boss.

Wait, what? Arija scrunched her face, in confusion.

Before Kip could answer, a strange ticking came from across the room. Arija spun, her gaze falling on a set of ornate double doors on the opposite wall.

Wait, that door wasn’t here a minute ago, she whispered to Kip as the handles jiggled and turned.

It vanishes when they leave and lock the door. I think this place is a jail, he replied.

Do you have any tools or any of those bombs you like to make?

My knockers? No, when the little one took me, I couldn’t grab anything.

So I was right, someone took you? Arija asked, but the large door cracked open and the two of them fell silent.

Arija tied the sheet under her arms as if it were a towel and brought her fists up, ready to take out whoever walked through the door.

The small creature that entered only reached her hip. It carried a tray with various types of fruit on it. Arija gasped.

The creature wobbled to the bed and placed the tray at the foot of the blankets as if he hadn’t noticed Arija wasn’t where he’d left her.

He had long talons and a chubby body. His hair was gray, and it hung across the gray-green skin of his back in a stringy mess. His bare feet exposed long toes with nails that curled in at the ends.

Arija searched him for any signs of weapons, but he appeared to have nothing more than the tray of food and the white, perfectly tailored suit he wore.

As he placed the tray down, the creature tugged at his jacket, adjusting himself. I see you are awake, he said in a gruff growl, without turning to acknowledge Arija. The master will be pleased to hear this if he hasn’t already sensed it.

He turned to face Arija, forcing her to take a step back. An elongated face that was not proportional with the size of the creature's small body peered at her. He had a jagged nose that looked like a dog had mangled it and bore a smile with rows of razor-sharp teeth. His eyes were solid black and she couldn’t tell if he was looking at her or through her.

What the hell are you? Arija asked, unable to stifle the question.

The creature let out a high-pitched giggle. Ah, what manners. You are a fiery one, aren’t you? He will like that.

Turning to leave, the creature paused, as if he’d forgotten something important. My name is Hedgewart. I am a kobold and a servant to my master. You are Arija. The boy is Kip. The both of you are guests in my master’s home.

Hedgewart turned back toward Arija and Kip, bowing elegantly, a wicked smile spreading across his face.

Arija stood stunned for a moment before rage bubbled up her gut like a volcano. 

She stormed toward Hedgewart, stepping on the sheet and causing it to pool around her feet. She yanked him up into the air by his collar and slamming him against the wall.

Listen here, Hedgewart. Two things are going to happen. First, you'll tell me who the hell stripped me down so I can kick their ass. Then you'll give me all of my stuff back and let us go. I don’t give a shit about your master. If you want to live to see another day, you’ll do as I say!

Arija pressed Hedgewart’s ugly face against the wall as she spoke. He smelled about as good as he looked and Arija had to hold her breath to prevent the acrid odor from assaulting her nose. The kobold was heavy for his size and, though she had him in her grasp, he didn't look worried in the slightest.

You don’t like the look I gave you? The kobold craned his neck to eye Arija, smacking his tongue against his swollen and cracked lips. 

Arija slammed him against the wall once more.

He grunted on impact. All is well beautiful creature. All is well. Is this more to your liking? Hedgewart snapped his fingers and a tingling sensation suffused Arija’s body. She dropped the kobold, stumbling back a step.

She glanced down at her body in shock. Low-waisted black leather pants wove their way onto her bare legs and a V-neck burgundy top with white lace appeared on her torso.

"I hope you don't mind, but I have not replaced your weapons for obvious reasons. I value my life and I wouldn’t want you thinking you needed to use them. As for letting you two go, I’m afraid even I cannot do that. The master has given strict orders and I must follow them. You