by Cate Corvin
He nodded, though he was entirely unhappy with it. “So you won’t be any help to us while we’re in there.”
“Tascius.” I strode over to him. “You won’t be in there at all.”
A look of unpleasant surprise flitted across his face. “You can’t convince me to stay back. I’m not running from this.”
“I’m not asking you to run.” I lowered my voice, so no one else would hear, and told Tascius what to do.
From anyone else, I would’ve expected shock, or denial. Excuses for why they couldn’t do as I asked.
But Tascius only jerked his head in a short nod. “I’ll do it.”
“Good. Let’s get to Kur, then.”
We found Belial and Michael perched on a boulder together at the bottom slope of the mountain, muttering quietly.
Belial jumped down first, his landing preternaturally graceful for someone his size. “Are you done with the chit-chat? Let’s get moving.”
“Tascius will not be coming with us.”
Both of them looked at Tascius with surprise, and then understanding lit Michael’s eyes. “Watch yourself, kid.”
Belial clapped a hand on his shoulder. He didn’t need words to express his pride in his student.
We set into the desert, the sun relentlessly beating down on our heads. I turned back once and saw Tascius’s pale form in the mountains, watching us leave.
I looked back to the desert. It was time to have faith in who he’d become. He didn’t need me or anyone else now.
Belial shifted into his leonine form, and Michael flew low over the sand, but I alternated between the shadow-form and the giant raven I’d become fond of. None of us particularly wanted to alert the Irkallans to our presence early, but it seemed it was only a matter of time.
It took a day, and another night. We didn’t stop to eat or drink. There was nothing to drink anyways, not in this blasted land.
The Seven Gates of Kur glittered on the horizon on the second morning. I peered at them, weightless in my shadows. “Her eyes will be watching.”
“IS THAT NOT THE POINT?” Belial growled, his flaming tail twitching back and forth as he galloped through the sand.
When we were close enough, Michael drew his sword. “Let’s start this party.”
He struck the first of the Gates. A loud ringing sound echoed over the desert. “Hello? Anyone?”
He hit it a few more times for good measure until Belial snarled at him, his ears twitching. “I HEAR NOTHING BUT YOUR RACKET.”
A breeze shifted a swirl of sand a foot beneath me. “She’s coming. They heard him.”
The desert’s silence was a lie.
The Irkallans climbed out of the sand. It poured off their armor, letting the sun gleam on the metal and swords.
A demon in a conical hat approached us through the Gates at a fast clip. “I am Minister Neti—oh.”
He stopped and stared, then turned and ran.
“COWARD,” Belial chuckled. He turned around and swiped lazily at several guards who had tried to sneak up on him.
They went down in a spume of blood and fire.
An arrow flew through my incorporeal chest. An entire phalanx of Irkallans bore down on Michael, circling him. For his part, he dropped his sword and raised his hands. “What a fun way to greet visitors.”
Minister Neti, my grandmother’s long-standing henchman, had been replaced with a phalanx of heavily armored guardians, armed with ebonite swords forged with poison.
“We come in peace.” Michael waved his hands. “Mostly.”
Belial let himself be herded through the Gates after the archangel, taking playful half-hearted swipes at the guards surrounding him. His tail flicked and set one of them on fire.
The demon ran screaming into the desert before collapsing into ash.
After that, a legion of spearmen pushed him along, keeping a careful distance from his claws and tail.
But none of them could touch me. I remained in the shadows as spears and swords prodded at me. “Is this how you treat the royal bloodline of Kur?” I asked coldly.
One of them looked up at me, really looked, and went dead white. He backed away and dropped his sword.
The others realized swiftly after that. The family resemblance, once noticed, was striking.
“Prince, I apologize,” the guard gasped. He went down on one knee in the sand.
I let myself sink through the air, my feet just above the desert. My corporeal self condensed back into being, leaving me solid.
But none of them struck at me again.
I felt for Melisande through the mark, reassuring myself she was there, still alive, and touched the ground.
The entire desert held its breath when we met. I felt the shadows between the grains of sand, the shift of eons as the past was brought to the present.
Her darkness reached up and touched me, full of glee. Welcoming me home.
I let it envelop me.
9
Melisande
Queen Ereshkigal extended her hand over the table, holding out a bowl of candied rose petals. They sparkled red and pink beneath a crust of sugar.
“Eat, dear,” she said, smiling and showing her oversharp teeth.
I glared at her, shifting in my seat and keeping my hands clenched in my lap. It was hard to believe that only a day ago, she’d been encouraging a nightmare to eat me.
The servants hadn’t given me a knife; in fact, none of the settings within arm’s reach of me possessed a knife, but they had given me a fork.
I pictured Ereshkigal still smiling, a fork sticking out of one of her milky white eyes.
“Eat.”
She spoke through gritted teeth, dropping the little dish of dessert on my plate.
I raised a hand, thought about grabbing the fork… and plucked a single rose petal out of the dish and laid it on my tongue. It was crunchy and sweet, but the flavor made me want to choke.
“There. We don’t want the little morsel to starve, do we?” She picked up a slice of bloody, nearly raw meat off her plate and popped it in her mouth.
Little morsel. If Belial were here, he’d rip her limb from limb for speaking about his daughter that way.
I sent up a silent prayer to whoever might be listening that he was on his way.
As usual, nobody answered me, but Inanna’s power reached out and brushed against my mind. Her unending determination despite her sorrow was a balm against Ereshkigal’s taunts.
Now that my secret was out, I could afford a little more time to contemplate and plan. If Ereshkigal was a Prime power, only one weapon could destroy her: the Spear of Light.
I just needed to get it back, which was the hard part. The impossible part.
But for now, I needed to use my time in Ereshkigal’s good graces to plan. After whipping my back to a pulp, she’d healed me as a sign of good faith for our so-called compact; the healers had gone over every inch of my skin, their magic smoothing away the marks the whip had left behind.
I’d even been given a new room, although the one window looking out over the city was barred. Just another reminder that despite what she’d given me, I was still a slave.
Then I’d been dressed in black silk again, silver cuffs slid over my wrists, and the girl tending me had tied back my hair in braids.
It reminded me so much of Vyra I could’ve cried, but my eyes were completely dry. I had no more tears left in me, only seething hate and determination.
I ate another rose petal and watched silently as a servant slid roasted meat on my plate. Thankfully it wasn’t as bloody as Ereshkigal’s; I wasn’t entirely sure she was eating animal meat.
I felt a breath of wind as the dining hall door opened behind me. Several pairs of footsteps echoed through the large room, and Ereshkigal’s eyes squinted into slits as she smiled up at the newcomers.
Lucifer pulled out the chair next to me and sat down. He moved stiffly, his back streaked with fresh whip-marks, but he reached under the table and surreptit
iously slid his hand over my knee.
My mate squeezed my thigh gently, reassuringly. I let my hand trail over his fingers, quite sure that Ereshkigal knew exactly what I was doing. The bitch had eyes in the back of her head.
But she’d more or less given him to me as another token of good faith. I had no doubt she’d still make him dance for her on the arena floor, but if I could have more stolen moments with Lucifer, time to plan… all the better.
Satan seated himself next to her and stole a bloody mouthful from her plate. He smiled at us, his teeth streaked with red.
I picked up my fork… and stabbed nothing but my own food with it, piling the meat on a steaming flatbread.
If I was going to get my Spear back, I needed to make up for the days of starvation, and how much magic I’d expended to stay alive and keep Sarai protected. I nudged Lucifer with my knee under the table, making it clear what I wanted him to do as I took a big bite: start eating. We need strength.
He followed suit, thin ebonite chains clinking from his wrists. They kept him grounded as surely as his collar kept him from striking at her.
But if she wanted to fatten us up, she’d have to deal with the repercussions of having healed, well-fed, and very angry slaves on her hands.
Ereshkigal sipped a glass of wine, her expression satisfied as she watched me work through the meat and bread and go back for more sliced fruit and candied flowers.
“Have some tea, little sister.” She waved a hand lazily at the servants waiting silently behind us. “Wine would be an unwise choice, I think.”
The glassy-eyed girl stepped forward and poured from a silver pitcher. Crushed pomegranate seeds floated in the dark tea. It tasted like honey and tart fruit, making my tastebuds clamor.
I drained the glass and held it out for more with murmured thanks.
Satan was tilting his knife back and forth, examining the raw meat he’d stabbed with it. “Did you tell her about your surprise, lover?”
I almost choked.
No good ever came of surprises in Kur.
Ereshkigal shifted into her crone form, slouching in her throne-like chair. “I wouldn’t want to ruin it for her.”
I gazed at Satan’s face while he looked down at her, the queen whose mercy he’d thrown himself on.
The blue of his left eye was astonishingly bright against the black pit of the other. I remembered perfectly well that when Satan had possessed Nergal’s body, his essence had taken him over. The King was lost, no matter what I wanted to believe.
Inanna’s power touched me again. I blinked, and Nergal smiled back at me, his blue-sky eyes shining warmly…
I blinked again, and I was back in the throne room. Sitting across from Satan, who was lazily licking blood off the blade of the knife.
He cut his tongue and laughed.
I turned my head, glancing at Lucifer. With the ebonite chains that kept him bound, his inherent light was muted, but there was color in his face again.
I nudged him, wanting him to eat more. Ereshkigal loved nothing more than to make him dance, which drained him more day by day.
I wondered what creature he’d be fighting when our quiet little family dinner was over.
Lucifer ate another bite, and then Ereshkigal stood up, her skirts sweeping around her. “Come.”
Satan took his Queen’s arm and the servants pulled out our chairs. I remained at Lucifer’s side, hoping we’d get a moment to talk alone now that Ereshkigal had loosened her leash on me…
But the Queen shook off Satan and approached me. She ran a clawed hand over my stomach, pausing low on my abdomen with a happy sigh. “Much better. I feel her strength already.”
I looked up. The column of her throat was only inches away, the smell of jasmine perfume suffocating.
I’d once ripped out a demon’s throat with my teeth. I could do it again. I could already imagine how the gush of her hot blood over my face would feel...
But Ereshkigal removed her hand and swept away, leaving me with my lips drawn back in a snarl.
“Come!” she sang. “To the arena.”
I fell back with Lucifer, letting my arm brush his with every other step. “We can’t let her break us,” I whispered under my breath.
He shook his head minutely.
The throne room was quiet. My cage was suspended high in the air, forgotten and empty.
But now there were dark curtains on the balcony, obscuring the sight of Kur and the arena floor.
Ereshkigal settled on her throne, crossing her clawed bird feet, and snapped her fingers. “Come, little sister. This is for you as much as it is for me.”
I looked up at Lucifer, taking strength from the steel resolve in his eyes even though I felt sick at what she had in store.
We crossed to our rulers. I stood by Ereshkigal’s side, a silent shadow, and Lucifer flanked Satan’s throne.
The Irkallan guards strode to the curtains and drew them back, sweeping the folds of darkness away like it was a staged play.
My gasp caught in my throat. I almost staggered, placing one hand on Ereshkigal’s throne to hold myself upright, to stop myself from jumping down there now.
“Sweet sister,” she purred. “Does he not please you?”
My palm, imprinted with Belial’s dark spiral, felt like it was burning.
The arena floor was crisscrossed with dark chains that held down a massive lion. He was cut and bloody, scarlet staining his golden fur, but his eyes burned like a firestorm when he looked up at the balcony and saw us.
Ereshkigal took my hand and pried open my clenched fingers.
“Is this not his mark?” she asked, her dark lips stretching wide. She ran a claw over my skin, tracing the black spiral.
Belial roared, the sound blasting against the walls of Kur. He struggled to get up, the chains straining against his strength.
A dozen Irkallan guards descended on the arena floor, armed with spears and swords. One of them slashed at Belial’s ribs, opening a wound that showed the white of bone beneath it.
Belial drew in a deep breath and exhaled a whirlwind of flames, cooking the Irkallan alive in his armor.
The demon’s scream was cut off as his skin blackened, hair went up in flames, and his armor melted, dripping over his limbs. He plunged off the side of the pillar, leaving a stream of smoke behind him.
Belial let out a deep, rumbling chuckle, and his tail switched violently, knocking several more over the sides.
His aqua hellfire eyes never left me. I realized Ereshkigal had released my hand, and I was leaning over the balcony, letting the heat of Belial’s flames warm my icy skin.
Claws hooked over my shoulders and dug in gently, just enough to give me a tingle of pain.
“I promised to honor our compact,” Ereshkigal said in my ear. “And I keep my word. I’ll make you a bargain to keep your spirits high, little sister: if the beast makes you sing, I’ll give him to you. The son of dawn endures torment to return to you, but will you endure torment to save the son of flame?”
I froze in place. Belial would never hurt me.
“Only a true song, my lovely bird. I will hear the ecstasy of pain, or the bargain is void.”
“What about our compact?” I asked stonily. “If he kills me, the baby dies.”
Ereshkigal gave me a knowing smile. “Then I cut her from your corpse and feast a little earlier. Perhaps you should make an effort to not die.”
She flexed her claws on my shoulders and released me. She walked away to her throne and settled on it again, her face alight with the little game she was playing.
Insane bitch. In her mind, she won either way.
Several more guards jabbed at Belial and suffered for it. He snagged one in his mouth and bit the demon in half.
Belial would never hurt me, not even if I asked him to, but… perhaps he would, if he didn’t know I was there. On the other hand, he would be consumed with fury that he’d been tricked and guilt over causing me pain.
I could
heal from pain, though, and Belial would be mine. My mate, and another ally on my side.
I flexed my wings, feeling the energy of an entire day of eating well. My back muscles were still sore from their healing, but I only needed to fly a short way if I timed it right.
I climbed up on the balcony and perched there, a bird waiting to take flight.
Belial saw me and made one final, mighty push to break free of the chains.
They snapped and he burst free with a snarl, his paws crashing through the guards. A hundred more of them descended the gangways, driving towards Belial with swords and spears.
Fresh wounds spilled blood on the arena floor. Belial’s tail whipped and set several of them alight, and as he twisted around, intending to sweep them all off the narrow gangways, I saw my chance.
The lion took a deep breath, releasing a torrent of flames with another mighty swipe.
I swooped down and flew into the path of his paw.
He hit me like a brick wall. The extended claws, as sharp as razors, tore through my arm and shredded feathers from one wing.
I hit the arena floor hard, the air knocked out of my lungs.
Gasping for breath, my head spinning, I smelled something burning. The scent was so thick I even tasted it: burned meat.
The agony pierced the numbness only seconds later.
My left arm was a mass of blistered skin, raw and charred, and the remains of brilliant blue heart-flames still danced over my skin and peeling it away.
After days in Ereshkigal’s court, I would’ve thought I could become immune to pain.
But that was a lie. This was what Belial’s enemies felt when they died, an all-consuming agony that would never end.
It was worse than any whipping, a thousand times worse. I’d timed it wrong. I’d flown into his fire.
I needed water, and the only water was far below, in the river of souls.
My right hand pulled me towards the edge, my nails breaking off as I scrabbled to gain purchase on the ebonite. The flames were eating their way towards my shoulder, and I was screaming so loud I couldn’t hear myself. There was nothing but a buzzing in my head.
