by Cate Corvin
He was. He blocked me with his forearm at the last second, pushing back hard enough that I lost my grip on the dagger and it went flying.
But I didn’t need to sink it all the way into his chest. I’d just needed the blade to skate across the convergence of his soul-bond, cutting through his flesh to the muscle beneath, separating the lines swirling over his body.
Lucifer exhaled slowly, freezing in place. We both looked down at the blood spilling over his chest, shimmering with the rise and fall of his ribs.
The cut that bisected the convergence was wide open, the edges of his skin looking burned. A sick feeling flipped through my stomach.
The ebonite dagger had been strong enough to cut the soul-bond, but it was ebonite imbued with the power to kill angels and demons. Its entire purpose was to poison them.
My breath came harsh and fast as I put my hands over the wound, my fingers growing slick with blood, determined to keep Lucifer’s life where it belonged: firmly in his body.
But the tattoos were darkening. The pulses of crimson light grew erratic and faded, and the scarlet slowly began to turn black, starting right over the wound and spreading outwards.
I looked up at his face, and saw Lucifer staring back at me. The real Lucifer, whose eyes were full of terror.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he whispered. “You have to go.”
When would they learn that I would never leave them?
Blood pumped between my fingers. How was there so much blood from such a small wound? I hadn’t cut through to the heart beneath, not nearly that deep.
I lifted my hand. The soul-bond was gone for now, but thin red streaks emanated from the cut, curling beneath his skin.
“It’s poisoned you.” I whispered the words, closing my eyes and pressing down harder.
It kept bleeding. The ebonite, being the antithesis to his form, would keep the wound open.
I dared to use a speck of my healing white fire, letting it jump from my palms to his chest. Wiping away the blood, I watched hopefully as the skin began to knit together again.
The fire went out. The cut split wide open again, gushing even more blood.
“No, no, no.” I was barely aware that I was speaking out loud, or that Satan was making noises behind us, or that Lucifer’s blood-slick hands were covering mine.
His head dropped back, and he winced. “I’d rather be dead than bound. Get out of here, Melisande!”
He tried to push me off, but I squeezed tightly with my legs, refusing to be dislodged. “I’m not going anywhere without you. We can fly- the others are coming.”
Lucifer shook his head. When he opened his eyes, dark shadows had appeared under them, and the silver color was washed out to a nearly colorless white. “The Kur guard is coming for him. They’ll take you, too. Just fucking go.”
It was impossible for my heart to freeze over any more than it already was. I couldn’t leave Lucifer to be dragged away, to die here alone on this lonely mountain. He’d say they were coming before, and I’d forgotten it in the heat of the moment.
But I wasn’t leaving. If he went, we would go together.
I got up, gripping Lucifer’s arm and dragging him upright with me. He sucked in a breath as blood spilled down his front, and I saw the lines of ebonite poisoning spreading towards his shoulder.
“Come on.” If I sounded confident, maybe it would rub off on him. Maybe he wouldn’t notice the poison emanating from the wound until we were far from here and I could find a healer.
I hooked his arm over my shoulders and led him to the edge of the precipice, my wings fluttering in anticipation.
“God, it burns.” He looked down, saw the spreading streaks, and gave me a wry smile. “Not how I pictured going out.”
“This isn’t the time for levity, Lucifer,” I hissed. “We’re going together or not at all.”
He shook his head slowly and yanked me against him before pressing a quick kiss to my lips.
Then he pushed me off the shelf with a shouted “Go!”
I flapped hard, catching myself in midair before I tumbled down to the rocks below.
And someone grabbed the back of my neck, yanking me back to the ledge.
For a wild moment I thought it was Lucifer. That he’d changed his mind and decided to come with me, or that my effort to weaken the soul-bond hadn’t worked.
But he was kneeling on the ground. The ebonite dagger was buried several inches deep in his shoulder.
The man holding me by neck rotated me, a slow smile spreading across his handsome face. My feet dangled uselessly above the ground.
Nergal had been beautiful. And now that all that beauty belonged to Satan. Touches of oily pitch still lingered at the corners of his full lips. One of his eyes was bright blue, and the other was a muddled mix of blue and black.
Even as I watched in horror, the blue slowly washed the black away, becoming a brilliant sapphire.
He licked his lips, lapping up his oily essence. “Like what you see?”
I couldn’t say anything at all. His fingers tightened, sending shooting pains down my neck and up into my head.
Lucifer looked up, his face twisted in fury, and he launched off the ground at Satan.
Light flared, bright as the morning star, but Satan backhanded him easily. Lucifer went flying and landed face down in the ash. Blood dripped slowly down his back.
The streaks of ebonite poisoning were twining outwards, crawling up the back of his neck.
I kicked hard, but Satan just laughed, spreading a pair of black bat wings wide and refolding them. “It feels good,” he told me conversationally. Several fat black flies buzzed around his head, and one landed on his lip, feeding on the oily remains left behind.
A rushing sound filled the air. Satan’s arm lowered, letting my feet touch the ground, but my struggles were in vain. Nergal’s body had been powerful, and he had several feet of height on me. It was as useless as struggling against the Princes of Dis.
Demons dropped to the ledge all around us.
They wore bits of black silk, showing off their skin and the tribal tattoos inscribed on their bodies. Their wings were dark and leathery, some of them pierced with gold hoops in the webbing, and all of them carried spears or swords.
One of them bowed before Satan, going to a knee and pressing his forehead to the ground.
“My king,” he said reverently. “The queen has sent us to guide you home.”
Satan looked at me, his sharp teeth displayed in a wide smile. “Every queen needs her king,” he whispered.
He let me drop. I went to my knees, gasping for breath and inhaling ash, but my first instinct was to crawl towards Lucifer.
He was still bleeding freely. The poison was taking hold, determined to destroy his body.
I gripped the dagger and pulled it from his back, but the damage was already done. One of the demons kicked the dagger right out of my hand and then stepped on me, driving me towards the ground. I hissed out a gasp of pain as he put more of his weight on my fingers, threatening to snap the bones.
“What do you desire with this one?” the demon asked.
Satan was running his fingers over his arms and bare chest, admiring his new body. He glanced up at us before returning to his exploration. “Bring them. The little one will make me a pretty songbird.”
“Yes, King Nergal.” The demon who’d paid him fealty snapped out orders to the others. I was to be bound and gagged, but kept whole and unharmed- mostly.
Satan looked at me from under his eyelashes. His sly smile made me want to vomit.
Were they not aware? Didn’t they realize this wasn’t Nergal, but a usurper wearing his flesh and bones?
“This isn’t King Nergal!” I shouted. “This is Satan. He’s fooling all of you- look at his eyes.”
The Irkallan demons all looked at each other, then at me, where I knelt with one hand pressed protectively against Lucifer, and the other trapped under a demon’s boot.
They sta
rted laughing.
28
Melisande
The demon standing on my hand ground his heel into the back of it, drawing a shriek from me I hadn’t meant to let loose.
I had seconds to decide, but the choice seemed so clear.
The white fire of my healing magic came roaring to life inside me, and I pushed it through my veins, sending every last drop of it leaping into Lucifer through my palm. As soon as I felt the last bit of it jump over to him, I let go.
My hand was almost certainly fractured, and now unhealable, but I still had my legs.
I swept one behind the demon’s knee, catching him off guard and knocking him backwards. As soon as his weight left my hand, I tore my arm away, cradling the throbbing appendage to my chest, and thrust my uninjured hand into the ash bank where I’d last seen the Spear.
And felt the sear of fresh pain through my palm as the shaft met my hand, solid and warm.
Relief rose in me alongside the desperation. We had a chance.
I got to my feet, gripping the Spear as best I could with an injured hand. Arcs of brilliant light torqued around the dual points, and even Satan looked up, the brilliance reflecting on his new handsome face.
But he didn’t look worried, only vaguely frustrated.
“Do something about that,” he said, waving a hand.
The Irkallans surrounded me, crouched on the rocks overhead, jabbing me back towards the cavern with their own spears and swords.
Ignoring the pain shrieking up my arm, I spun the Spear around and sliced through the air towards the nearest demon.
The Irkallan moved too slow. One of the spear points just ripped through the webbing of her wing, no more than a scratch.
She laughed again, shaking her head like she was dealing with a child. Then the edges of the tiny scratch caught fire.
The amusement on her face turned to shock almost instantly. Within seconds the flames had caught both of her wings, and the rest of her went up like a torch. It was just like the Sin Eater, white fire spewing from her mouth and eyes, reducing her to a charred husk of a demon.
Her remains collapsed to the ground, blending in with the ash.
None of them were laughing now. All the amusement had left their faces, replaced with a bloodthirsty viciousness.
One of them jabbed, but the long tip of their spear slid off the chainmail Vyra had made for me. I came in for another attack, but he flew away, and another one jumped overhead, slashing with his sword.
I ducked just in time, even as several strands of violet hair were sheared clean away and fell to the ground.
All I needed to do was touch them with the Spear, and they’d crumble into cinders. I was making this harder than it needed to be.
Sweat dripped into my eyes and I prepared to drive the butt of the Spear backwards, ready to catch whoever was behind me.
Something sharp poked into my left side, jabbing just under my ribs. I felt the trickle of fresh, hot blood inside my armor.
I’d underestimated where the Irkallan was, and he’d slid the tip of his spear right between the gap in my sword-proof armor.
“Drop your weapon.” The spear point moved in a little deeper and I gasped, resisting the urge to go to my knees.
If they gutted me, they’d kill Sarai, shield or not.
One of the Irkallans leaned over Lucifer’s prone body. He pulled out a dagger of ebonite, this one with a curved blade that was lined with wicked barbs, and planted a knee in the middle of Lucifer’s back. The Morningstar let out a low groan.
I winced as more blood soaked into my shirt, and the Irkallan demon gripped a handful of Lucifer’s golden hair, pulling his head up.
Lucifer was pale, his golden skin gone white, but he was still breathing.
The Irkallan placed the dagger’s edge at his exposed throat with deliberate precision, finding the thready pulse beneath the thin skin, and looked up at me with pitch-black eyes. “Drop the weapon, or he dies.”
The blade barely moved, but a thin trickle of blood ran down Lucifer’s throat.
Satan said nothing in response to his son’s predicament. He raised an eyebrow, more concerned with running his hands through the long black hair tumbling down his back.
I bared my teeth at him, but he just smirked in response.
Lucifer would rather die… but I couldn’t allow it to happen. Not with the soul-bond broken and a chance in sight.
The Spear of Light tumbled out of my fingers and hit the ground with a hollow clang, sending out a blaze of light before it went still and silent.
I held up my hands, letting out a breath.
This wasn’t my final defeat, but they didn’t know that. I let the knowledge comfort me despite my gritted teeth and the despair taking root in my heart.
The demon on Lucifer’s back pulled the dagger away, letting his face drop back into the ashes. I felt the spear point recede from my side, leaving behind a radiating pain and the wetness of my cooling blood.
Rough hands gripped my arms, pulling them behind me back. I refused to look away from Lucifer as they tied me with rough ropes, tying my wings down, binding my wrists and ankles together, even though I felt Satan watching me.
He didn’t deserve the attention he craved. I was here for Lucifer, and him only.
The other Irkallans were giving Lucifer the same treatment, moving his limp body around as they tied him. They all gave the Spear a wide berth, but marched me out to the edge of the precipice, forcing me away from Lucifer.
Satan gripped my chin, forcing my face upwards. “All that fight for nothing,” he said, using Nergal’s melodious voice. “I hope you hold onto it.”
I’d known that Satan was the one speaking through Lucifer. I was the one who’d caused him all this frustration, forcing him to run and hide… and he wanted me to fight so he could keep tormenting me.
As long as I was in his grasp, he’d make me his songbird. The screams of my torture would be his music.
I kept my expression dead. He wanted a fight? He wouldn’t get one from me. It went against everything I was, but I was determined to deprive him of the one thing he wanted the most.
Satan’s frown confirmed my suspicions. He gripped my chin hard, almost enough to make me cry out, then shook my head and released me. I would’ve stumbled off the edge of the cliff if the Irkallan demons didn’t have a tight grip on my ropes.
“Lead us home,” he ordered, turning his back on me. One of his dark wings slapped my face as he passed, leaving a stinging mark behind.
The Irkallan holding my ropes pushed me forward. I turned my head to find Lucifer, to make sure he was fine, but another stinging slap hit the other side of my face.
Blinking tears away, hellbent on not even giving them that, I started walking.
“Drink.”
The keeper I’d come to know as Damuzid shoved a glass bottle in my face, lifting it to my lips with a scowl.
The water was light brown and gritty, and tasted bitter, but it was the most delicious thing I’d ever tasted after days of walking.
And I didn’t want it. I wanted nothing that they offered me. I turned my face away, and Damuzid gripped my jaw, forcing my mouth open and pouring the water in.
I coughed and spluttered. Damuzid slapped me. I felt the stinging red imprint of his hand on my face, but felt oddly numb to it at the same time.
By now, my cheeks and jaw had to be yellow and purple with bruises. Satan allowed them to slap me, but no more.
Bruises healed fast, he said. Slicing into my skin would take longer to heal, and he wanted me to last for a very, very long time.
It’d taken all my willpower not to spit in his face when he said that.
“Sit down and rest while you can. We have a way to go.” Damuzid pushed me to my knees.
I fell to them gratefully. My thighs ached from the exertion of not falling off the side of a mountain. With no hands or wings to keep my balance, descending from the Irkallan mountains had not been easy.
r /> I’d fallen more times than I could count, scraping my knees bloody, twisting my ankles on treacherous rocks, and once smashing my face into a boulder when I slipped. The wound on my forehead felt clotted and dirty. None of them had offered to clean the grit out of the cut.
But Sarai was fine. I reserved all of my magic for her, keeping the shield around her intact even while I was given a brief hour or two to sleep every night.
I was so tired. Even my bones felt like they might crumble if I was pushed the wrong way.
The sand beneath me was soft and warm, luring me into its embrace. Swirls of white ash were mixed into the darkness of it, but before I could let my eyes drift shut, I tried to sit up a little more.
They always kept Lucifer out of my sight. I knew it was deliberate, but that didn’t stop me from trying.
Until we reached Kur, I knew I wouldn’t see him again.
I was too exhausted to search for long. I let myself slump down to the sand, my muscles worn thin, running on nothing but a bite of bread once a day and dirty water.
It felt like my eyes had barely shut when Damuzid jerked me upright by the ropes behind my back, sending sharp lances of pain through my shoulders. I stumbled to regain my footing, my eyelids feeling as heavy as bricks… my hope wearing thin.
It’d been three days.
Three days since I’d been spat out by the Between, right where I needed to be. Everyone should’ve been right behind me.
Three days without a single sign of them.
In the depths of my exhaustion, the fear clenching my chest was almost crippling. What if they’d gotten lost?
What if they’d taken the portals home, thinking we were already there?
I blinked, my eyelids feeling as gritty as the water as Damuzid pushed me into line. I followed Aya obediently, a demon I’d learned like to twist fingers backwards until they felt like they would snap. It’d taken talking back only once to learn that the hard way.
The Irkallan desert was as black as the Starsea, as blasted as the Dis wastelands, but it lacked warmth or beauty.
It was just… endless. The only break in the landscape was the paved road we followed, and enormous bones that jutted from the sand like skyscrapers. Most were in the distance, but one bone, curved like a rib, had been closer to the road.