She jolted to hear his strangely accented voice in her head. She'd understood his telepathy? She supposed it made sense, at least here.
--If you'll just step back, my fair queen, I'll get started on a pumpkin carriage. Of sorts.-- He steered her aside with his tail. Inhaling a deep breath, he loosed a stream of white flames across the throne room.
After the smoke cleared, a circular portal remained, like a tunnel of fire. She could see Sylvan on the other side! Traitorous feelings arose. As much as she loved hell, she'd missed Sylvan.
Lila would seize both realms, uniting them under her rule!
Uthyr must've opened his portal into the royal gardens; the stunning castle lay just beyond, haloed by portentous gray clouds.
Torches lit the structure, candlelight beaming from the arched windows of the throne room. She gazed with longing at the ivy-covered spires, the giant evergreens flanking the palace, the trellised roses that painted one wall bloodred.
In Gaia, she'd dreamed of that place, yearning for her childhood home so much she'd haunted a facsimile of the castle. Memories from those years surfaced, dividing her focus, but she ruthlessly shoved them away.
Just as she shouldn't think about Abyssian. Whatsoever.
But how could he have said those things to her? When she'd told him she loved him?
The dragon leaned in again. --Be back before Sylvan's clock tower chimes midnight.-- He winked at her. --In all seriousness, my portal will extinguish itself on the final stroke of twelve.--
She raised her brows, surprised yet again by a Morior. Like Rune, he didn't strike her as very vicious or monstrous.
--You are teeming with power here, Queen Calliope, but outside of hell, you won't be. If you go to confront Saetth--perhaps for double-crossing you--he will prove far too strong and fast for you to defeat.--
"Precisely," she said with utter confidence, practicing for what was to come. "As long as we're all on the same page about that."
Expression merry, he said, --Anything else, my queen?--
"Yes. I'm going to conjure a note for you to deliver to my ex-husband in Tenebrous. I would like him to read it aloud to his allies."
The dragon looked delighted. --This is better than my soaps.--
Pacing the war room, Sian racked his mind for a way to reach Calliope. Every back entrance and secret portal into Pandemonia had been blocked. An impenetrable barrier had hurled him back onto his ass a dozen times--
White flames appeared out of thin air. Uthyr's rift! When the smirking dragon strutted from a fiery tunnel, Sian dove to return through the portal, but the edges sealed behind Uthyr's tail.
Sian scrambled back to his feet. "Is Calliope safe? Why can I not trace to hell?"
Uthyr cast him a broad smile. --Look at you! You've returned to your old form. Which is good, since you won't be returning to your old home.--
"What are you talking about?" Sian bit out.
--You've been barred from Pandemonia. I did warn you that your plan would end badly, did I not?--
"I can't be barred from hell; I am hell."
--Well, apparently so is Calliope. She's brimming with magic.--
How? He'd figure that out later. For now . . . "Tell me how to reach her!"
--She sends you a message.-- Uthyr lifted a forepaw. A small scroll had been tied to one of his talons. --You're to share it with your allies.--
"Give it to me!" Sian nearly shredded the page in his haste. He read aloud:
Demon,
Hell is now mine. You locked me in a dungeon; I locked you out of our godsdamned house. In the immortal words of a very wise mortal: everything you own in the box to the left.
Field advantage is key, and the joke's on you.
Game, set, and match,
Calliope I, Queen of Sylvan and Pandemonia
P.S. If you or your allies make any move on Sylvan, I will retaliate against the Morior tenfold. Do not test me.
"Queen of Sylvan?" Sian clutched his chest. "She must plan to go back to Saetth. Must not have believed what I said about him." Why would she when Sian had been bragging about all his lies and trickery? "I told her that we were no longer wed. That I'd forsaken her. She could marry again. I drove her straight to him."
Would Saetth want her hand--or her head?
"What does that part mean about the box to the left?" he demanded of his allies. "Does she reference Pandora's box? Or the mystical Nagas box? Maybe--"
"Brother, it's a song lyric," Rune said. At Sian's blank look, he added, "Just trust me when I say it's the funniest shit you've ever read."
Sian turned on Uthyr. "She can't get to Sylvan, though. Because you would never create a portal for her. Correct?"
--She demanded one. Who am I to deny a queen in her own castle?--
His stomach dropped. "Tell me everything!"
--She was dressed in a ball gown, wearing the most fascinating and historical crown you can imagine.--
As if Sian cared what she wore!
--Also, she had no intention of wedding Saetth.--
"I have to reach her in Sylvan! She's going to challenge him. She told me she was going to kill him."
"I like her more and more," Allixta said. "You are sure to be attacked by Sylvan's army. Shall we provide backup?" Blue light blazed from her palms.
He shook his head. "I vowed to her that no Sylvan would fall by a Morior's hand." He couldn't kill a single fey, nor could he risk his allies harming anyone. "I have to go alone." He would keep his word if it killed him. And it might.
Damn. This is going to hurt. . . .
FIFTY-SEVEN
Sylvan Castle
Queen Calliope the first of Pandemonia and All Hells."
The liveried herald announced her in a booming voice that carried throughout the court.
Lila loved how quiet the crowd got. Only the sound of the fountains could be heard. The scent of roses and candlewax permeated the opulent throne room.
The last time she'd been here, Saetth had cast her out for a crime she'd had no part of. At least now she intended a coup. Even better, she was in charge of her own political plot.
Courtiers and attendees parted for her as she made her way toward the throne dais, cradling her scepter. The tall fey males wore formal suits and the customary sword belts. The willowy females were clad in airy pastel gowns and glittering jewels.
They all stared at Lila, a royal wearing such a brazen dress--and a devil's crown.
She spotted her cousins. They were gathered like hyenas off to one side, wide-eyed with shock to see her. She gave them a chin jerk in greeting.
As she took in faces, she recognized the shallowness of this extravagant affair. Lila knew make-believe when she saw it. Compared to so much superficiality, her existence with Abyssian felt rich and deep.
Already rooted.
But had it been? He'd called her the queen of nothing.
Should she believe his behavior this morning--or his tenderness toward her over the days and nights of their short marriage?
Now that her anger was cooling, she could so clearly recall the look on his face when he'd handed her the diamond.
That freaking demon was in love with her. He'd been lashing out--which he had a bad habit of doing--to hurt her.
He'd left her to rot in a dungeon, and he'd lied so convincingly. How could she ever trust anything he said?
Focus, Lila. She refused to let Abyssian break her heart and ruin her one-woman revolution.
If she lived through the next half hour, she might dissect her relationship with him and figure out whether anything could be salvaged between them.
That was a big if.
Across the room, Saetth came into view. He sat upon his throne, flanked by guards and a collection of fawning courtiers. Attired in a taupe formal suit, he wore his scabbard and replacement sword. His golden crown perched securely upon his head.
His narrowed gaze took in Lila's own crown and dress.
Trying to appear relaxed--her plan
and her life depended on convincing Saetth that she was all-powerful--she called to him, "My invitation must've gotten lost in the mail. Because I know you wouldn't be searching for a queen when you've already promised me the position."
His lips curled. "How many husbands does my greedy cousin desire? I heard you wed the king of hell, but could scarcely believe it. Even more surprising is your arrival here. How dare you enter my kingdom before I've lifted your exile?"
"I dare easily. Since you set me up. Do you deny it?"
His smile was no longer handsome, just sinister. "Not at all. You're a traitor to the crown, just like your parents."
"Not to the crown. In fact, I've come to collect it from you."
Amusement. "Have you, then? You and your demon spouse? You forget my castle is mystically protected against any and all Morior. He'll never make it past the barrier."
"No, it's only me. I seized Abyssian Infernas's kingdom--just as I'll seize yours."
"I confess I'm intrigued. Why would you ever believe you could best me?"
Because I learned trickery from a master. "Because I was anointed by hellfire as the true Queen of Pandemonia. Saetth, you cannot begin to understand my power. Not only do I wear the crown of hell, I wield the scepter of the primordial fey."
His covetous eyes locked on it.
"It should look familiar to you," she said. "It was forged of Titanian steel, at the same time your sword was created." She tapped her chin with her free hand. "Oh, wait . . . you lost the Ancestors' Sword to Rune the Baneblood--when you targeted that male's mate in a cowardly attack."
He didn't deny that, just said, "A loss which makes me particularly interested in your scepter."
So predictable. "I'm giving you one opportunity to abdicate. This is your only chance to leave this kingdom alive."
"Indeed?" He shared a laugh with his courtiers before addressing her again. "I'm a warrior king, and you're . . . you. We all know you're better suited to modeling ball gowns and traipsing across a dance floor."
Lila smiled pleasantly. "And still I'll make a better ruler than you."
"You continue to look at me as if I am the villain. You have yet to understand that I did what I had to in order to protect Sylvan."
"Say that were true, you have yet to understand that if two alternatives are wrong, you don't pick the least wrong, you figure out something right. That is what makes a monarch."
She turned to address the crowd, giving him her back, hoping he'd take the bait. "I'm Queen Calliope, ruler of hell and heir to Sylvan's throne," she declared, her voice ringing. "When I defeat Saetth, you will all acknowledge my rule. Or I'll end you." She addressed the king's guard. "You'll vow fealty. Or you'll die." She told her cousins, "You'll flee this kingdom. Or you'll share Saetth's coming fate." Facing him once more, she said, "Don't challenge me, cousin."
The scepter drew his eyes again. That's it, asshole. Take the bait--
Shouts sounded from the castle's grounds. Soldiers? They were yelling for backup, the commotion growing louder. Fey archers started to fire, their bowstrings going twang, twang, twang.
Abyssian had come.
Inside, the crowd surged to the castle's arched windows to look.
"A Morior!"
"The handsome primordial!"
"Will the barrier hold?"
When a demonic battle roar carried through the night, she raised her gaze to the ceiling. "Fucker."
FIFTY-EIGHT
The castle was as protected as hell had been, an invisible shield blocking Sian's way. No tracing inside.
In front of that barrier, a line of soldiers with swords and spears mounted a defense.
Sian had charged them. All of them.
Poisoned arrows rained down from the castle's battlements, crossing the shield though he could not.
He swung his ax over and over, not to strike soldiers--but to deflect arrows. He bodily knocked down swordsmen, clearing enough of them out of the way for him to reach the barrier.
He sank his ax into the mystical shield. It wavered. Held strong.
His opponents regrouped, attacking his back. He warded off strikes, but they were fast. Soon the small number of swordsmen gave way to troops hundreds deep.
Every time he raised his ax, soldiers landed blows, piercing his torso. Pain flared over every inch of his body. Archers continued to target him. Arrows jutted from his shoulders, glancing off his skull, lacing gashes with poison.
Wings and horns would come in really fucking handy right now.
A different kind of pain erupted. In his jaw. His temples. The tips of his fingers. He chanced a look down. His hands and arms were darkening, claws protruding from his fingers. Glyphs began to glow.
He gritted his lengthening fangs when his wings burst free and his horns emerged from his head.
The guards hesitated, stunned by his transformation.
They went flying when his wings flashed out. Missed those. Seizing room to move, he swung his ax against the barrier.
Why would he return to this form? Maybe Calliope had gone cold forever. Had he lost the fire?
Just get to her. Where was she? He scanned the windows. Didn't see her amid all the fey gazing out. Another sweep of his gaze . . . There! He spied his mate just approaching the glass. She was alive! He didn't see Saetth near her.
Others seemed to dart away from her. "Lila, get out of there!"
Their eyes met. His steps faltered at her appearance. Mine. My queen. She wore . . . a crown of hell. Did she comprehend the extraordinary significance of it?
He yelled when a volley of arrows plugged him. He ducked under a spear's trajectory, narrowly missing the tip of a sword. Another glance at Calliope.
She looked uncaring as she gazed at him. No, I can't have lost her. . . .
Roaring with frustration, he rammed his horns against the shield. His bellows reverberated off it. Get to her.
With her shoulders squared, she picked up the skirt of her gown and turned her back on him.
Just like the last time he was in Sylvan. His breath shuddered from his lungs. Noooo!
While blood ran down his face, he willed her to turn back and see him. To comprehend that he would do anything for her.
Turn around, Calliope. Look--at--me!
And then . . .
She did.
Lila needed to keep her focus on Saetth, but she couldn't drag her gaze from Abyssian.
He was fighting off hundreds. He used his battle-ax--but only to hack at the barrier and ward off attacks. The blade didn't have a drop of blood on it.
His wings knocked swordsmen over like bowling pins and deflected spears. Yet he never beheaded a single fey.
She watched his wing claw stop short at one soldier's throat. Abyssian could have decapitated the male easily. Instead, he took blow after blow without killing. His blood poured as he proved himself.
The lesson of the pomegranate. He'd yearned for carnage against the fey, but he'd surrendered his need--and the look in his eyes said he expected to get her back.
That demon was so totally in love with her.
Didn't mean she wouldn't kick his ass.
In Demonish, he yelled, "Hold on!" His bloodied horns were straightened, his muscles bulging. He was magnificent. Power incarnate. His gashed skin sheened under the torch flames.
Firelight loved Abyssian.
The soldiers had regrouped. Even a Morior couldn't fend off onslaught after onslaught--not without thinning those numbers.
Multiple spears sank into his torso. He gnashed his fangs from the pain.
She yelled in Demonish, "Fight back, you idiot!"
That could not have been a hint of a grin on his face.
It disappeared when swords sliced his wings apart.
"Trace away!" Lightning flared outside, and rain started to fall. It strengthened until blood washed away from him, revealing the extent of his wounds. Dear gods.
"Behind you, Lila!"
She whirled around. The crowd was p
arting for Saetth and his courtiers to close in on her.
Abyssian yelled, "Do not challenge him! Get the fuck away from him!"
Uthyr must've told the demon her intentions--and Abyssian believed she was about to be lost once again. He battered the barrier with his horns, his blood smearing the surface.
Saetth said, "You did bring a friend, cousin. Surely that can't be the handsome hell king."
She held her ground. "I don't need help defeating you. I have this." She gestured to her scepter.
Saetth's gaze followed her every movement.
"Oh, cousin, if you try to take this from me, I vow to the Lore I will use my darkest powers to smite you down--"
He snatched the scepter from her.
The bait.
She could hear Abyssian frenziedly grappling to reach her. While Saetth laughed and gloated with his courtiers, she peered over her shoulder at Abyssian. As if in slow motion, the demon swung that ax overhead, rotating it, building momentum with all the strength in his primordial body.
Yelling, "Aim true!" he whaled the ax into the barrier. The blade ruptured it. A shock wave blasted out from the impact, leveling trees and sending fey flying.
The shield was no more.
He traced inside a split second later, weapon at the ready, drenched in rain and blood. "Lila!"
Before she could blink, Saetth had unsheathed his sword and raised it against her throat.
FIFTY-NINE
Sian quickly holstered his ax, raising his palms. That fuck was the fastest of his kind; Sian couldn't even trace to intervene.
Saetth beheaded his victims with such speed they could still be talking after the deathblow.
Calliope held herself motionless, but she didn't look afraid.
In a menacing tone, Sian said, "If you hurt her, I will snatch your godsdamned spine from your body. I'll take your throat with my teeth!"
She blasted out a thought: --I have this under control.--
Sian drew his head back in confusion.
"You are the demon husband?" Saetth said with a sneer. "Not quite the ladies' man I was expecting. Really, Calliope, there's no accounting for taste." His courtiers laughed. "I didn't think I'd get to end the king of hell today as well." Without lowering his blade, Saetth twirled a scepter. The one I gave Calliope? Voice dripping with arrogance, he said, "Tsk, cousin, was this the source of your power?"
"My source of power is my wits. Always has been." What is her plan? "Do you remember what you told me the day you exiled me?"