Lisa Shearin - The Trouble With Demons

And the Hellgate’s glow flickered and diminished briefly when she did it.

“Now you are a part of your own creation,” the queen said with smug satisfaction. “A fitting place for you to think and remember who is ruler here and who is the servant. My husband will require food when he arrives to claim his new body. Do not try my patience any further, or you shall be that first meal.”

Her gleaming eyes fell on Tam. “Consider that a warning, lovely one. Do you still wish to defy me?”

Tam’s will, like his stance, was cold and unmoving. “Mychael Eiliesor cannot be acquired, Your Majesty-regardless of the lure.”

The demon queen placed the tip of one talon against her lips. “You will not assist me even if one hundred lives on this island are spared?” she murmured, her voice like molten honey. “Including your beautiful son. One hundred lives of your choosing. Untouched, unmolested, unharmed. They will be allowed to live and leave this island when no one else will.” Her eyes brightened. “All for a single elf. If this Mychael Eiliesor is as infected with nobility as I have heard, he would agree to my proposal and sacrifice his life without hesitation. I wish to negotiate with you, goblin. Not persuade. My persuasion is always fatal; by the time a mortal is broken and willing to do what I require, they are no longer in a condition to do so. All that effort wasted. Pity.”

The demon queen wanted Mychael, and Tam was her choice for his kidnapper. Tam wouldn’t do it; I knew he wouldn’t. I glanced at him and saw his black eyes glittering in the dim light, his profile expressionless. As with the Volghuls, Tam gave me no notice or regard. With Tam and the trouble he often found himself in, to ignore was to protect. He was ignoring the Volghuls; he was protecting me, or at least he was trying.

All I heard was the Hellgate’s thrumming distortion. Tam’s thoughts were his own, and he was determined to keep them that way.

That was fine; I knew what he was thinking. Tam wasn’t going to betray Mychael, regardless of the offer. However, if the queen forced his hand, he would go along-up to a convenient point of betrayal. Tam was a goblin to his core. Manipulation was his kingdom’s national sport. As for the demon queen, I knew that tall, naked, and nuts had no intention of keeping her word. As a Benares, I’d been told that our word wasn’t worth the air it was spoken into unless we wanted it to be. Demons probably weren’t much different.

But the demon queen wasn’t lying when she predicted that Mychael would take her offer in a heartbeat. And that heartbeat would be the last one he had without the demon king’s soul in his body.

The thought of Mychael’s soul helpless and imprisoned in his own body kicked every last bit of panic and fear out of my head. Rage replaced it, and it felt good. A tight, searing knot blazing in the center of my chest. It fed the Saghred, and the stone’s white heat joined my own. Seething, scorching, eager for a way out.

Except there wasn’t a way out, for either it or me.

Magic wasn’t an option. Even the Saghred couldn’t get in on the action as long as I was on the dais. Beyond the columns, I would have my magic back. But beyond the columns there were monsters. Cavorting monsters. Going there would be a bad idea; it’d also be the last idea I’d ever have.

“If you do not convince the paladin to return with you within an agreed length of time, I will begin to persuade the elfling that she desires nothing more than to assist me in any way that she can. Tell me, lovely one, can you feel the elfling’s pain? Has your bond become that strong? Defy me and we will find out together.”

“Perhaps there is an easier way, Your Majesty,” said the Volghul behind me. “The elfling’s bodyguard is a Conclave Guardian.”

The queen’s eyes lit with renewed interest. “A Guardian?”

“Of the highest order. He reports directly to Paladin Mychael Eiliesor. It is said that they can communicate with each other over great distances. We can take him into the hall where he will be able to contact Eiliesor, and you will not have to relinquish any of your captives.” The Volghul’s smile showed every last one of his razor-sharp teeth. “Or perhaps you can use the Guardian’s mind to reach Eiliesor yourself. This way there would be no need to damage the elfling since you will have need of her later.”

I’d had my life threatened before, many times. I’d even had people threaten to slice and dice me up. It scared the hell out of me every single time. Especially when it came from the ones who were serious. The demon queen was serious, eager even. The enthusiastic ones always wanted to get started before the time was up.

But no one was going inside Vegard’s head.

I tried to do some fast thinking.

Something besides the brimstone didn’t smell right. The demon queen had Carnades and Rudra Muralin on the dais where the Hellgate distortion was the strongest. I was brought here. Tam was brought here. None of us could use our magic. She kept sending flunkies after Mychael instead of going herself. This thing was the queen of the freaking demons; she was beyond ancient, with enough power to do anything, slaughter anyone. I could feel it. I knew it.

I suddenly knew something else. I put on my best poker face. There was a reason for the flunkies, the minions.

She couldn’t leave.

Every ounce of her raw power was the only thing holding the Hellgate open. Attacking Rudra Muralin had broken her hold on it. Only for a moment, but it had happened.

Move the queen. Close the Hellgate.

And probably kill us all.

Brilliant idea, Raine. And if you don’t end up vaporized, why don’t you hand her the Saghred on a silver platter, and set her up on a date with Mychael?

Tam said it took days to get a Hellgate open and stabilized. Somehow I didn’t think closing one was as easy as slamming a door. Doors didn’t have black magic backlash that could turn us all into piles of ash-or do the same to every living thing on the island. But it wasn’t like I was exactly flush with options. And if Tam had any brilliant ideas, he wasn’t sharing them with me; and thanks to the Hellgate distortion, our bond was worthless. I knew he was plotting something, and since he’d opened a Hellgate before, I thought it safe to assume his thinking was running in that direction. But I’d found out the hard way on more than one occasion that a wrong assumption could very well be my last assumption.

I’d counted five mirrors at the base of the columns behind me. Each was linked to another mirror somewhere on the island. One of those mirrors had to be inside the citadel. The demon queen said as much. The Saghred was there, the demon king was there, a mirror had to be there. Mychael already had one Guardian who had betrayed him to elven intelligence. Selling your soul to the demon queen might actually be a moral step up. Someone had to have put a mirror in the citadel, and it was as close to the Saghred as they could get it. There were hundreds of cells and containment rooms in the citadel’s subterranean levels. The one and only time I’d been down there, all of those doors had been closed. Oh yeah, there was definitely a mirror in one of those cells. A big one.

I needed to know which mirror here led to that mirror there , because we sure as hell couldn’t get out the same way we were brought in. We needed an exit, a fast one, preferably to the citadel teeming with heavily armed Guardians. I hated mirror magic with a passion, but better to jump through a mirror than to be a demon queen’s Saghred-powered plaything for the next eon or two.

With the queen pondering how best to use Vegard’s mind, I raised my hand level with my ear, like I had an itch. Tam saw what I was doing. The Volghuls couldn’t. With the barest movement, I inclined my head in the direction of the Hellgate, then slowly brought my thumb and forefinger together until they touched. Then I turned my head ever so slightly in the direction of the mirrors, and raised one eyebrow in a silent question. Was it possible?