by S J Doran
“Demon, I’m trying to make a statement here.”
He pulled her closer. “So am I.”
Renovations
He walked back to their rooms, feeling light, insides warm with a glow of happiness he hadn’t felt in an age, though his mind was still reeling. Still trying to find the odd pieces out, the ones that could make this all crumble.
He’d already declared his intent to crown her his Queen Consort, he wasn’t certain if his people thought that may have been rescinded when her people started a war in his fortress. It certainly fucking hadn’t. There weren’t many things he was sure of in life — Mara belonging to him was the main one. The one he built many other foundations upon.
Castles in the sky, as it were.
Didn’t help that he couldn’t physically be with another without his mind screaming at him. He could lie to himself, pretend he thought of things other than her — but the reality was, she consumed his rational mind. Every minuscule detail of every moment they shared. The feel of her skin under his fingertips, her soft gasps that were a mixture of surprise and pleasure… the way her sheath tightened around him, clenching as she climaxed…
Fuck.
“Have you or Amara given any thought to the politics involved here or do you both get kicks out of stirring up hornet’s nests?” Jez was pacing the corridor, no way around him.
“Can’t let me even have this much?” His fingers sought out the Rod that had shrunk down to the size of his palm, now secured in his pocket with the same care as her ribbon had once been.
“You gave away the Lich gold source to Asurim?” Az came down the hall after them. “You’ll lose Mammon’s support for that, at the very least.”
“What is this? Piss on Cass’s cloud day?” He stopped walking and faced them down. “I’m happy. Can’t you just let me be happy for a night?”
“Last time you tried to be happy for a night you nearly fried my brain,” Jez glared, crossing his arms over his chest.
“There should have been talks, treaties, contracts in place before announcing something of this magnitude.” Az moved closer, grabbing Cass’s arm. “That’s all I’m saying. A little foresight, little less of the recklessness that defines the two of you.”
“What’s going on with you?” Jez cocked his head, going still. “You don’t feel right.”
“Feel fine. Great, actually.” He backed a step away, his hand tightening on the Rod. “Be better if I was getting well-wishes for my marriage rather than dire warnings,” he said with a shrug. “Is what it is I guess.”
“No, you’re fuzzy. Like when you’re a breath away from a panic attack.”
“Nope. Nowhere near that.” His mind was clear as could be, actually.
Az watched him close, his eyes narrowing on the pocket his hand was ensconced in, protecting the Rod.
“You found it,” Az said with an arch of a brow and Jez straightened.
“Found what?”
“It’s where we came by the Lich.” Cass nodded, pointedly ignoring Jez’s cold glare. “What do we need to do to make my marriage palatable? Least amount of trouble, Az.”
“We’ll start with a list of your allies, strengthen those alliances first…”
“You found your father’s Rod and you’re using it?” Jez cut him off, his tone aghast. “Stop. Just stop fucking walking a moment.”
Cass snarled, turning on Jez, who held his hands up in supplication.
“Just stop and look at yourself, Cass. look at your hands, you’ve got blood under your nails, and I’m assuming that’s what’s on your pants?” Jez’s hand gestured up and down Cass’s body. “You don’t feel right and not like when you’re just numbing yourself…”
“I’m fine Jez.” He tamped down his mounting temper, the cold rage burning inside a constant, mellow buzz. “Don’t remember the last time I’ve felt this good, in fact.”
He brushed past the two of them and into Mara’s —now their— bedroom, stopped short at the sight of Benzosia pacing in front of the mantle.
“Where’s Mara?” He kept his voice soft, not liking that the dowager Queen seemed to fear him.
“You’re using the Rod. After I warned you against it.” Benzosia stomped forward, getting right in his face, any semblance of fear she might have once felt, gone. “And you.” She turned on Azadiel. “You saw what it did to Asmodeus. You were there through it all and you would arm his son with the same weapon? Knowing he was bound to my granddaughter?”
“Bound?” Jez said, cutting the tension in the room for a brief moment.
“Cassius is not Asmodeus,” Az said, stepping up beside him.
“Thanks,” Cass cut in archly.
“Asmodeus wasn’t Asmodeus at the end,” Benzosia said, the rage washing out of her voice. “Have you forgotten what he was like? He was never an easy male but he changed so drastically. The Rod allowed the corruption a foothold, made way for his greed.”
“No. That was his unholy thirst for power.”
“No,” Benzosia shouted.
Whatever she was going to say next was interrupted by Mephistopheles’s entrance.
“Benny, are you picking on Aza?”
“Lucifer!” She smiled wide and jumped into the demon’s arms.
Cass shared a startled look with Jez and moved closer to his herald so the two of them were audience to whatever in the hells was happening. Was Meph another possible contender for Glasya’s father? It would explain his unnatural interest in Mara, when he’d never interested himself in Hell politics in the past.
“Oh no. You two are not going to gang up on me about this.” Azadiel pouted. Like a child. His former tutor acting completely out of any context Cass had ever known him in.
“Gang up on you about what baby brother?” Meph said, his expression gloating, Benzosia carefully wrapped in his embrace. And it all made sense.
Mara’s birthright was more entangled in the Hells than even his own. There was no one more worthy to be his consort.
“If you all are just going to be hanging about casting a pall over my wedding day planning, I’ll thank you to do it elsewhere,” Cass said, uncaring he was interrupting the family reunion.
“About that.” Meph turned to him. “Best move the Leviathan before making yourself comfortable, before it changes the scape of the Cania. You’ve unleashed a terror upon my lands, and if anyone is going to terrorize my denizens, it will be me.”
“How is he supposed to move a Primordial?” Az said, a look of astonishment on his face.
“Ask the boy. He moved it in the first place,” Meph said with a gloating look on his face.
“Cass what did you do?” Jez whispered.
What had he done? They seemed to think it a feat, but it had taken no more than a thought. Because of the Rod? Had it enhanced his power over the Hells to the extent he could control the primordial beasts that lurked amongst the chaos of the realm? That kind of power would be enough, he was certain, to overrule the backlash of his and Mara’s reaction to one another.
“Don’t,” Jez said, grabbing Cass’s arm. “Whatever you’re thinking of — I can feel your excitement, Cass. Pause and think.”
“As he’s pausing and thinking, the Leviathan is giving my realm an unwelcome renovation. Move it,” Meph said, releasing Benzosia and shifting into confrontational.
“Renovation?” Was all Cass could think to articulate.
“Tunneling,” Meph said, moving his hand in a wave motion. “Eats through the land, shits out new land. Like an earthworm.”
Cass snickered, he couldn’t help it. Picturing the gargantuan beast squirming its way through the lands of the Cania, leaving… waste material in its path.
“You forget that the Cania holds up the Nessus? My realm is the only thing defending your realm from the onslaught of the lesser demons of the Hells. Unless you’d care to become more hands on with the tormented souls that make up the Hells? The fiends in various stages of soul decay? They don’t leave the lingering odor
rotting flesh leaves, but the visuals…” Meph shuddered, making Cass’s shoulders stiffen. “They leave an impression.” He eyed Cass as though he knew of his aversion.
“I’ve collapsed the Lich realm,” he said and Jez stiffened at his side. “I can’t just move it back.”
The thought formed in his head slowly. A solution.
“But the Malebolge… I corrupted the land when Glasya stole away Levistus. There’s not much left…”
Meph nodded. “There’s enough.”
One ring to bind
Concern was overshadowing the joy and peace she’d momentarily felt at Cass’s side, the nagging kind that bloomed into all-encompassing. Berith had been a steady, calming influence over the years, seeing that hint of madness shine in his eyes left her shaken. Still, she had her demon.
“You can’t be thinking to keep them on their thrones? Amara, did you see the way they were looking at you?” Levistus doggedly tagged along, no matter how hard she tried to lose him.
“My Dominae are none of your concern old man,” she hissed, though it lacked her usual temper, her mind preoccupied. The ring… it was almost a feeling of panic — the need to see him wearing it. Was that how he’d felt?
“You’re my concern. My family. I have all the right to look out for you.” Levistus was uncharacteristically irate and letting it show.
She stopped walking, spinning on him. “Really?” She snarled. “Really, Levistus? A lot of good that ever did me. And why are you following me?”
“Amara…”
“No. My name is not yours to use.”
“You’re just going to let the Lich freely mingle with your needlers?” Lucifer came out from around the corner, his voice trailing at the sight of her and Levistus facing off. “Oh. I should probably…” He made a move to back off, and she pinned him with a glare.
“Say what you need to, Lucifer. Seems everyone is feeling the need to offer me their unsolicited advice today.”
“Far be it for me to tell you how to run your realm, priestess.” Lucifer held up his hands, “I’ll run along and see how Cassius is coming with moving the Leviathan.”
“You do that.” She waited until he walked off before making a move toward her safe once more, Levistus still insistently at her heels.
“The Rod isn’t going to be enough is it?” She voiced her thoughts quietly, fearing the answer, but needing to hear it. Levistus wasn’t her first choice of who to hear it from, but he was here, and if she kept this inside any longer, it was going to erode whatever happiness she’d managed.
Find the ring, put it on his finger. He promised not to leave again.
He promised not to leave in the first place.
Levistus openly stared at her, quiet, measuring his thoughts into words. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to say here, Ama… priestess. Do you want me to say what you want to hear, or what you need to?”
“The truth, Prince of Secrets.” She turned from his understanding gaze, “I need to know the truth, I can’t be blindsided again. I’m not… I can’t.” Of all the beings to confide this weakness in… still, he was the Prince of Secrets, he would keep hers.
“I was around for the Rod’s inception, though I didn’t know it at the time.” His mouth flattened as he inhaled a deep breath through his nose. “It contains the heart of the Hells, the core of its power, and I’m uncertain how he managed the power to contain that, or why he would. Benzosia is insistent that the Rod itself became sentient, and I do believe that she believes that, but to grant sentience to an object would require a divine touch — and for all Asmodeus’s posturing, he has no true claims to divinity.”
“But… how would it help Cass contain his excess power then? Aza seemed sure…”
“It could very well be the only answer to that puzzle. Could be the only thing that could absorb the overflow.” The look Levistus gave her then caused her physical pain, stealing her breath with the depth of sorrow he conveyed. “Could also be that like Asmodeus, Cassius will prove too weak to subdue the Rod and it will overcome his will.” He shrugged, but it was far from easy.
She hung her head, accepting the truth, though her heart screamed no — he wasn’t weak, he was powerful enough to handle it. He was half-god, he could do it. He would do it, for her.
“I have to enter my vaults.” She didn’t look back up at him, just shouldered past him, leaving him and his pity behind.
She entered the room in silence, though her thoughts were blaring. The most valuable treasures of Asurim could be found in these rooms, collected from the beginnings of their race, thankfully her father had the foresight to never share this room’s location with Glasya. Ancient texts, objects of questionable power, gems larger than her hands… what she was after hadn’t seen the outside of its box since her great-grandfather’s time. Not even her father had dared disturb it.
She carefully plucked the ring from its box, heavy gold, with an emerald so dark and clear it appeared black, thrumming with power that had been imbued by the god Anu himself… or so the legends said. It would look perfect upon his bronzed hand. It was meant to be worn by him. Her demon. Husband. It was official now, and the thought made her giddy, displacing the misery of moments ago.
A warm glow filled her chest as she walked back to her rooms, happiness, knowing her demon would be there waiting for her, that even if they couldn’t be together, they were no longer going to be apart. How odd, to feel so light. Free. Even with the weight of concern for her court, just knowing she’d have her Cassius by her side made their scorn and her duties easier to bear.
Tap out
The Malebolge was no longer a thriving ecosystem. This circle of hells had been erected from the remains of a primordial deity and was left in ruins when Cass himself had pulled the hell-flames across the lands in his rescue of Levistus. Without worship from either mortals nor warlocks, it was left desolate and withering. Even if Mephistopheles’ theory proved inaccurate, he couldn’t damage the realm any more than it was.
He’d never felt the Hells so distinctly as he did after having laid his hand on the Rod. It felt like a channel flowing through him, Hells’ power flowing directly from the source into his own essence. Almost as though this Rod had been blocking him from reaching his full potential. Intentionally? No matter now, he had it all. His to call up, his to control. Nothing to stop him from taking everything.
But damn the Rod was a demanding tool. To focus on the microscopic elements that made up his realm was nothing. The moment he tried manipulating them into doing anything out of the natural order, sweat prickled. He wasn’t certain how he’d moved the primordial beast to begin with, so he had no ideas as to how to replicate what he’d done.
All he could be glad for was that no one was around to witness his utter cluelessness.
He’d been panicked when he moved it, afraid for Mara’s life… no. He’d felt cocky and assured that there wasn’t a being more powerful than he. That the worlds were at his fingertips. That he could do anything.
There it was. The power lit up his blood, burning like unfettered rage, building to a crescendo beyond his comprehension.
He laughed to himself at the absurdity. Just needed to believe. There was some Wizard of Oz joke in there that he dismissed out of silliness, focusing once more on the monumental task of realigning the physical world around him.
His thoughts blurred, and for a fleeting moment, it felt as if his brain might leak out from his eye sockets, pressure building, then he had it. With careful nudging and shifting, he brought the creatures he sensed within the cave system in line with the top layer of the Malebolge, abutted but not overlapping, and with a great groan of exertion, he set the land and Leviathan in place. Hopefully, Levistus would accept his new role of Leviathan guardian with graciousness. Not that he had much choice in the matter anyway.
He braced himself for the collision of realities, for the impact their fusion would cause… but nothing could have prepared him for the backlash of power that h
it. It burned through him, siphoning his power to near exhaustion, dizziness and weakness consuming him as he forced his will upon the realm. Leaving him with nothing but a voracious hunger that gnawed.
Mara… he needed…
He pulled open a hell-gate that flickered, burning weakly through the folds of reality, giving only a momentary thought to the possibility of him getting stuck in between should it fold on him. He moved through quickly, stumbling out into the main room of the temple at Libiden, the room occupied by only one grisly mad monk—Rasputin, mumbling to himself. Or so he’d thought.
Rasputin turned with a sly grin at Cass’s less-than-graceful entrance.
“My Priestess,” Cass gasped out, the hunger already worse. If his temple had been full as it usually was, it would have been enough to take the edge off… “Where’s Mara?”
“Priestess? Hear tell she’s your wife now… Sarrum sa.” Rasputin turned fully, stepping aside so the skull he’d been speaking to was in full view. Bloise. There was something unsettling about the poison master speaking to the Lich King, an unparalleled alchemist — but Cass’s head was spinning so badly the thoughts wouldn’t stick.
“Word really does travel fast.” Too fast. At this rate, the Arch-deacons will have heard of the arrangement before he could make a formal announcement, giving them advance time to plan a coup. No chance of surprise, he was going to have to have solid counter strike planned out upon his return to his own throne. Their throne.
“I, for one, support this move Sarrum,” Rasputin said. “Our races symbiotic dependence on one another for power makes it a good match. Our survival won’t be so dependent on the fickle whims of mortals or capricious whims of malevolent gods.”
There was that. Though the Hells themselves didn’t supply enough power to restore Asurim to its former glory, he would join the efforts and do he could to ensure that Asurim would once again become a self-sustaining Realm. For Mara. Even if he had to broker a deal with those self-same malevolent gods. Goddesses. He wasn’t going to think of her. Avrogale. He hadn’t needed his mother for a long time; he wasn’t going to start thinking of ways he could use her now. Because when he had needed her, she’d decided some hogwash of a prophecy was more important than her son as a person. He wouldn’t be a pawn again — neither of them would be.
