The Hellgate was on the dais, and it was only a gate in the loosest sense of the word. A slickly wet membrane was suspended between two of the columns like a spiderweb, opaque around the edges where it touched the columns, and increasingly transparent as it neared the center, with a narrow opening that looked more like a slit than anything else. A demon slid through and landed with a wet plop on the stone floor. It looked up, quivering in its eagerness. Demons only got that excited over one thing. Food. It scrambled to its feet, claws, whatever, and with two bounds disappeared through one of the five man-height mirrors set up at the base of the other columns. Depending on where the receiving mirrors were on the island, the demon might not have to go far to find what it wanted.
“Oh shit,” Vegard breathed.
I couldn’t have said it better.
As fascinating as incoming demons from Hell were, my attention was riveted to a stone slab to the right side of the Hellgate opening, a slab that bore a disturbing resemblance to an altar. Or more to the point, I was riveted to who was on that slab.
Carnades Silvanus. Chained, gagged, and laid out in a white robe like a demon snack.
Rudra Muralin stood at the head of the altar, and at the sight of me, what was a confident smile twisted into a smirk. He was one happy goblin. My goal-with my dying breath, if necessary-was to ruin his day.
I wanted to yell out “I told you so” to the elf mage, but I looked around me at an uncountable number of yellow, green, and red eyes shining out of the darkness-and every last pair of those eyes were staring unblinking at us.
We were newcomers, prisoners, playthings.
We were food.
I couldn’t see the stairs beneath my feet all that well, but it didn’t really matter since my feet didn’t touch them but once or twice. The two Volghuls who gripped my upper arms decided that I was easier to lift and carry.
We were nearly to the stage before I saw the demon queen. She was tall and slender with opalescent skin that was a near-perfect match for the Hellgate’s membrane. She wore an intricate headpiece set with pale jewels. That was all. The queen of demons was naked. It took me longer to realize this. I was a Benares; I looked at the jewels first. But from the collective intake of breath from behind me, her nudity was the first thing-and probably the only thing-that Phaelan, Vegard, and Piaras had noticed.
She had an unearthly beauty that was spoiled somewhat by her red eyes with vertical black pupils, and the twisting claws on the end of tapered, but otherwise elegant fingers. Aside from that she was flawless, and quite obviously female.
“The Saghred bearer comes to me at last.” Her voice was lush and full, like overripe fruit on the verge of rotting. “You are too late to bring me what I wanted.” She paused, and her lips curled as if from a private joke. “But you are just in time to give me what I require.”
As she spoke, she negligently twirled something between her fingers; it was silver, slender, and curved. I was sure there were cavorting demons carved into it, but I didn’t feel the need to move in for a closer look.
The queen of demons had the Scythe of Nen.
I had a feeling of impending doom.
She smiled fully. Her teeth were more or less human-more if you just considered the number, less if you noticed that every last one was fang sharp.
“Nice knife,” I managed through a suddenly tight throat.
“It is a pretty little thing, isn’t it? I thought you would appreciate it, considering that it was acquired through no effort of your own.”
I didn’t mention that I’d made every effort to get to it first. She knew that as well as I did.
Her voice dropped to a resonant purr. “Come closer, elfling.”
I didn’t move. The Volghuls clutching my arms simply lifted me straight up and carried me. It was hard to look tough and be defiant when your feet didn’t touch the floor. They put me down about five feet in front of their queen and right next to Carnades’s altar. I looked down at the elf mage, sighed, and just shook my head. From the flare of rage in those arctic eyes, I think I got my message across. I’d warned him; he didn’t believe me, and now here he was. I’d imagine his abduction had resulted in some halfhearted searching and a lot of silent cheering.
Beyond the stage were shadows and restlessly shifting shapes. Large shapes that were moving in closer to get a better look at us-or a better sniff and probably hoping for a taste. From what I could see, a couple of them were large enough to have been responsible for the population explosion upstairs. I was sure I’d been in worse places, but I couldn’t think of one right now. My brain was too busy running back and forth between mere panic and basic terror.
The black magic Rudra Muralin had used to create and open the Hellgate was still there. A brimstone stench seeped through the Hellgate from what lay beyond, but hanging over it all was terror, pain, despair, death-all the ingredients for inviting hell on earth. People had suffered and died here. And the smarmy goblin not five feet in front of me was responsible for it all.
I slowly looked around at the horde moving restlessly in the darkness around us. “Is this more or less what you had in mind?” I asked Rudra Muralin. I was going for cool, calm, with a touch of cocky. I didn’t quite get there, but my voice didn’t crack once. I was nothing short of stunned.
He flashed a grin full of fang. “I’m anticipating much more. And now that you’re here, the real fun can begin.” Muralin turned to the demon queen and inclined his head respectfully. “Your Majesty, when we have the Saghred and it is time to kill this one, may I use the Scythe of Nen and do it myself?”
The queen kept her eyes on me. “Patience, young one,” she told Muralin. “The elfling has yet to be truly useful to me. You would carelessly waste a valuable resource.”
“The elf will only be useful when she is dead,” Muralin countered adamantly.
“That is your opinion. It is yet another that I do not share.” The demon queen’s lips curled in the faintest of smiles. “I have found that males are best used, not trusted,” she murmured in my direction.
The goblin’s black eyes flashed in anger. “But I have-”
The queen’s smile vanished and she held up a single, taloned finger. Wisely Muralin swallowed his next words. The goblin was insane, not stupid. He was cautious, maybe even afraid of her. Smart of him.
And good to know.
“Curb your tongue, goblin,” the demon queen snapped. “Or you may find yourself without it.” Her ruby eyes settled on me. “Silence is another admirable trait in males. Unfortunately, so few possess it.”
I grinned. It was probably a bad idea, but I just couldn’t help it.
“You find my words amusing, elfling?”
“Just highly perceptive, Your Majesty. Particularly when it comes to him.” I nodded toward Rudra Muralin.
“Ours is a business relationship, nothing more. Trust never entered into it.”
“Trust and business can be a dangerous combination,” I agreed, tossing a meaningful glance in Muralin’s direction. “It can blow up in your face at the most inconvenient times.”
The goblin stood utterly still, his black eyes promising murder, but interestingly, he made no move to deliver. In fact, I felt nothing from him. No presence, no magic, nothing. If I hadn’t been standing there seeing him with my own two eyes, I wouldn’t have known he was there. The open Hellgate distorted all of my senses, and if there was ever a time that I needed all of my senses on high alert, it was now.
The demon queen’s ruby eyes met mine and I couldn’t look away. “You I trust less, but I like more.” She looked past me and smiled slowly. “Do you wish to barter for the elfling’s freedom as well?” she asked someone behind me.