Her brain wracked back and forth over what answer to give. One of them had to be the right answer. Ylva wouldn’t give her an impossible choice so soon. She can’t have tired of Nel’s presence already. What was two weeks to an immortal?
Doubt crept into her heart. It beat furiously trying to push the fear away.
The demon seemed to sense Nel’s raging heart. There was almost a sigh as the demon removed her hand from Nel’s skull.
“Go. Your services are no longer required today. You may resume your duties on the morrow.”
Nel blinked. Relief flooded into her as she let out a long breath. She shook her head and all but slumped against the throne. Of course Ylva hadn’t grown sick of Nel so soon. The demon was honestly asking.
Hopefully.
It took a minute for her mind to actually register what the demon had said.
Services? Duties? As far as she knew, Nel hadn’t done anything that would be considered a service. She merely sat in front of the throne with Ylva day in and day out.
“Feel free to explore Our domain. Within, We imagine there is a plethora of wonders to the mortal eye.” One of her skeletal hands pointed off to the front of the room. “That chamber contains water and sand. We recommend you avoid it. The tedium of you becoming lost and tracking you through the Void may tax our patience.”
Nel sat there, staring blankly until everything finally registered. She stood up and gave the slouching skeleton a deep bow. “Thank you, Lady Ylva.”
The skeleton dismissed her with a wave of her bleached arm.
Nel turned her back on her master and moved down the steps from the throne.
There were thirty-six archways along the outer ring. One was off-limits–being lost in a place called the void sounded horrible–one led to the bedroom, one to the dining room, and one outside. There was a bathroom attached to the bedroom, though it was depressingly lacking a bath.
Nel froze at the edge of the hanging platform as a thought occurred to her. Did demons even need to use the bathroom? And what about sleep. Did Ylva need sleep? She had a bedroom. A bedroom that Nel had been sleeping in for the past several nights.
Unless she misheard something, Ylva gave her free roam of her domain. Even the water and sand room was a recommendation rather than an order. Did she have private quarters that she just allowed Nel access to or were they simply hidden somewhere Nel had no hope of accessing.
Nel shook the thought off. If one of the rooms looked like it was dangerous in any sense of the word, she’d skip it and check the next room.
With a deep breath, Nel put a foot down over the gaping pit. She hated this part since the day she moved in. Ylva had to all but drag her across by the collar the first few times. It was just unnatural stepping over a pit.
Whatever magics decided she was a valid member of Ylva’s domain took hold. A small platform formed exactly beneath her foot.
Parts of her could see a solid floor connecting the white marble ring to the black marble throne platform. Other parts of her could clearly see that nothing was around her. Most notably, her regular eyes. The ones she trusted the most.
Halfway between the outer ring and the inner disc, Nel looked down. She couldn’t help it. Every time she crossed she had to look down.
Six white pillars held up the outer ring. Whatever they were resting on was too far to be seen. Nothing but darkness lay beneath her. A light could be dropped down and she was sure it would fall forever.
A wave of nausea gripped her stomach as vertigo took hold.
Nel stumbled the rest of the way across the pit until she found herself pressed against the pillar of an archway.
If Ylva ever had guests, Nel would have to hide out of sight. Otherwise she would embarrass her master to death.
Well, deather, Nel thought with a glance up to the skeleton slouched on her throne. She made not a movement to indicate amusement or annoyance. It was so hard to tell the emotions of a skinless skeleton.
Picking herself up off the wall, Nel turned to one of the open archways. None of them were labeled, but the throne didn’t rotate. At least, not that Nel had ever seen. Outside was directly in front of the throne with the sand and water room to one side. The bedroom was behind and one door to the left. The dining room was straight on the right hand side.
She imagined she’d mix up ones that weren’t on cardinal directions, but that didn’t matter while exploring.
—
The first room that really interested Nel was full of eyeballs.
Giant eyeballs.
Long meaty stocks held them up to the level of Nel’s chest. Each eye was about as big as Nel’s head. They squirmed and slithered on their stocks as they gazed towards an empty sky.
It was a far cry from the prison and torture chamber she already visited. They were exceedingly normal as far as Nel could tell, even if they looked like they had been used far too recently. When Ylva found the time to torture someone, Nel wasn’t sure. The demon was almost always upon her throne.
Nel stood at the entrance and stared. Half of her wanted to turn and vomit. The other half wanted to rush forward and touch them.
As a former augur of the Elysium Order, Nel knew a scrying setup when she saw one. Probably. That was her best guess in any case. She’d never seen anything even remotely similar to it before.
What else would it be.
After watching them writhe for a few minutes, curiosity won out. She had to know if they were better than she was.
She strode into the room. Nel did her best to ignore her bare feet stepping off of cold, hard marble and onto something warm and squishy. There was no central dais or obvious control point, so Nel walked up to the nearest eye.
It ceased its squirming at her approach. The stalk bent, almost bowing to her. It hovered right at her waist.
Nel reached out. Slowly, carefully, Nel brushed her finger against the moist membrane of the eye. When it failed to react, Nel placed the palms of both hands against the sides of the eye.
She shut her eyes and concentrated. Focusing on Sister Cross’ name and face, Nel channeled the barest amount of magic into the eye that she could. If she was making a mistake, she didn’t want it to explode or anything.
Nothing happened.
Sister Cross could hide from an augur in possession of a strand of her hair. She was probably a poor target.
Instead, Nel focused on the headquarters of the Elysium Order. A warehouse-like building on the outskirts of town.
Nothing.
Nel frowned. Perhaps it isn’t for scrying. Or it requires a specific way to use it.
She released the sphere. Gooey mucus stuck to her hands as they pulled away. Long strands dripped down to the ground where her feet were undoubtedly becoming just as disgusting. She didn’t even have her scapular to wipe her hands off.
Disappointed and feeling decidedly unclean, Nel stalked out of the room. She skidded across the marble floor and nearly fell. A well placed pillar arrested her momentum. Hand shaped streaks of goo covered part of the pillar.
Nel sighed. She needed to find a way to clean this up.
In the main throne room, Nel opened her mouth to shout out at Ylva. Her heart hammered as she realized what she almost did. Her jaw snapped shut with a click.
She took a moment to compose herself. Several deep breaths later, Nel felt ready. “Lady Ylva,” she said. “I don’t suppose one of these rooms has a good way of cleaning myself.”
The skeletal woman draped across the throne turned her head just to one side. Her jaw twitched open for the barest of seconds. She might have missed it had she not been using her glimpse to get a closer look at her master.
Laughing? Amusement? Disgust? Annoyance? Nel tried hard to keep her face neutral. I can’t tell without skin.
Without a single sound, the queenly woman raised one of her hands. She pointed at the archway nearest to Nel that wasn’t the prison.