I get threats. Pleading. Odd lyrics sung to the tune of Kumbaya.
Random gifts that cover my front lawn. And now this demon, Bedlam, who insists we get hitched. Whatever.
My igni flare more brightly. “Only you and Lincoln can defeat the Titan of Chaos!”
“Wait a second.” My eyes widen. “You guys are acting like he’s already free.” I look to Lincoln. “Do you have a breeze charm handy?”
“Sure.”
This time, Lincoln pulls out what looks like a silver nickel from his pocket. He snaps the coin in half. Once more, the spell begins.
Winds churn around us. Particles fly up from the earth, making it clear that Chez Bedlam isn’t all that hides beneath the sand.
After the gusts die down, five things are now clear on the ground.
Human skeletons.
A shiver rolls up my spine. As the Great Scala, you’d think I’d get used to death. Hasn’t happened yet. My heart sinks. “Poor souls.”
Lincoln scans the bones. “These are recent kills. Looks like someone’s been a busy titan.”
I shake my head. “Bedlam can’t be out of jail. The mission brief would’ve told us.” Kneeling beside the stone, I inspect the seam between the desert and the rock itself. A thin line of particles roll deeper into the ground. It’s like gazing down onto the top of an hourglass.
The sand is sinking.
I glance between the skeletons and the stone. A realization appears. “Crud. These humans just moved the rock and tried to replace it, only they got flayed before finishing up.”
“So Bedlam is free.” Lincoln shakes his head. “This complicates things. We’ve lost the element of surprise.”
I sniff. “As well as the element of, where the Hell is this demon
? Bedlam might have ran off.”
The words barely leave my mouth when a puff of indigo-colored mist rolls up from the desert. An electric charge fills the air.
Magic. A realization slams into me.
Oh, no. Bedlam’s been watching us this whole time. We wanted to sneak up on him, but now the Titan of Chaos got us instead.
My thoughts race through everything we learned in the last few minutes. Beauty and the Beast magic? Flaying humans and covering it up? I’ve never heard of any evil this powerful, and I collect demonic trivia for fun.
Bedlam is one scary dude.
I turn to Lincoln, ready to talk up a change of plans. Hey, I’m queen enough to admit when it’s time for a retreat.
Yet before I can say a word, the sand crumbles beneath me.
And I fall.
2
Lincoln
Fast as a whip, Myla sinks into the sands before me. Shock and alarm battle it out in my nervous system. I lurch forward, trying to prevent her descent.
The ground gives out beneath me as well.
I tumble through darkness. Every nerve ending in my body stays on alert, ready for the inevitable impact.
Slam!
I land in a crouch on the floor below. Cool air surrounds me.
Rising, I scan my surroundings and exhale with relief. Myla stands by my side.
But for how long?
I inspect our surroundings. We’ve reached the short side of a massive rectangular room made from pale stone. Hefty statues line the walls. These are massive sculptures of ancient Egyptian men and women in tunics and kilts, their bodies stuff and straight while their hands press against the ceiling, as if they’re holding up the chamber itself.
Along one wall, a single hieroglyph comes to life as it glows with golden brightness. Another follows. Then many more. All repeat the same phrase.
I read the glyphs aloud. “ Chaos does not rest. It waits, storing up the energy to strike .”
“Fuuuuuuuuuck,” groans Myla. “That means this isn’t a tomb at all. It’s some kind of charging station.”
“Agreed.” Turning, I meet Myla’s gaze head-on. “We aren’t the hunters here.”
The implication is unspoken but clear. Myla and I have been lured into a trap.
My pulse speeds. For thousands of years, Bedlam’s been hiding in this lair, charging up power and waiting for the chance to spring his plans in action.
And according to our mission brief, the Titan of Chaos has only one prey.
Myla.
A low stage lines the opposite wall. Upon it, there stands an Egyptian sarcophagus covered in paintings, jewels and glyphs.
A long creak sounds; the sarcophagus slowly swings open. Alarm shoots through my system. Within the depths of his coffin, Bedlam’s eyes glow white in the darkness.
Still he does not attack.
Which is to be expected. Bedlam is a senior class demon who wants Myla’s magical agreement to his marriage plans. He’ll try charming her before he resorts to violence.
I pull my baculum from their holster. These are two metal rods that I can ignite into any kind of weapon. The motion says, I’m ready to fight.
With my baculum in hand, I scan for any exits. There are none.
Whatever entrance Bedlam created to bring us here, it has vanished. Patting my pockets, I pull out an escape charm. This one looks like a paper clip and creates exit doors in any situation. I snap it in two.
Nothing happens.
I pulls out another and try the same thing.
Still no magic.
Bedlam is blocking my spells. It’s a rare caster that can create a magical null zone. We are in serious trouble.
From his lurking spot in the shadows, Bedlam’s voice booms across the chamber. “Greetings, Lincoln Vidar Osric Aquilus, Heir of the Archangel Aquila, and King of the Thrax.”
“Not quite,” I declare. “You missed my title as Consort to the Great Scala.”
In reply, Bedlam chuckles. “And now, for the moment I’ve long anticipated,” he continues. “My heartfelt greetings go out to Myla Lewis, Daughter of the Archangel Xavier, Heir to the power of the Furor dragons, Mistress of Igni, Greatest Scala in History… and my future wife.”
Blinding rage overtakes my soul. Every instinct in me screams to protect Myla and kill this demon now. But we thrax don’t strike those who aren’t attacking. That said, we have no qualms about moving things along with some goading. I ignite my baculum into a long sword and shift into battle stance.
“Come on, Bedlam,” I announce. “Make one move. That’s all I need.”
“As you command,” says Bedlam.
I brace for the attack.
3
Myla
Three words seem to blink in front of my eyes, all of them written in huge neon letters.
As you command.
Bedlam plans to take down Lincoln.
Things are getting dicey. Even my tail is turning anxious. Being a quasi-demon means I have powers over two deadly sins—lust and wrath—as well as a tail that’s covered in dragonscales and has a mind of its own. In this moment, my tail pokes my back in a steady rhythm that says, is Lincoln all right?
I call over my shoulder. “He’s fine, boy.”
“Behold my wrath,” announces Bedlam. Indigo-colored smoke rolls off the stage at the far side of the room. I’ve seen this before.
This is the same shade of mist that appeared on the desert before me and Lincoln got yanked down here. Magic. Adrenaline courses through me. Lincoln’s a warrior, not a sorcerer. And I have just one source of supernatural power. Closing my eyes, I summon my igni.