I pushed back a twinge of misgiving that maybe I’d trusted too much. The floors we were passing were empty; all of the succubi were downstairs, tending to the injured.
I was completely alone with the High Priestess, and despite their reputation as the protectors of women, it wasn’t entirely unthinkable that maybe she blamed me for most of the destruction that had left their lower floors full.
When I was close to pulling back, she turned and looked down at me, her eyes invisible behind the veils. “Not much farther to go.” Her voice was gentle, not the voice of someone plotting to murder me.
Besides, I’d come for Vyra’s sake. I couldn’t back down now.
I nodded and climbed the final set of stairs that culminated in a black door. The High Priestess waited patiently for me to catch up, her hand splayed over the door.
“This room is as far as you can go,” she said, her words echoing down the empty stairwell. She pushed it open, motioning me inside. “The white door is forbidden to you, as you are not a succubus, but you may come inside and see a small portion of our temple.”
It was pitch black in there. I swallowed my nervousness and stepped into the room, my hands out to prevent me from running into anything.
The click of her hooves filled the room as she followed, shutting the door behind her. I felt her near me, the breeze of her movements carrying the scent of incense to my nose, and she clapped her hands.
Several lights flickered on, tiny flames in sconces that gradually grew in brightness until the entire room was lit.
I drew in a sharp breath. Unlike the rooms below, this one was clearly the temple. There was only one more door opposite me, made of lacquered white wood, but it was the walls and ceiling that caught my attention.
Every inch of them was covered in black and white paintings, extending from the floor and stretching high above in an unbroken mural. Small dots of light gleamed on certain points of the mural, and I drew close to one of the brightest points of light.
My mouth dropped open. “This is… Dis.”
It was a stylized interpretation, but the enormous circular city with its descending rings was clearly drawn right there on the wall. The points of light were mostly concentrated on the second tier of the descending rings.
“Yes.” The High Priestess clasped her hands in front of her, standing in the center of the room and watching me from behind her veils. “The known entirety of Hell is depicted in this room.”
Outside the map of Dis, small brushstrokes gave the impression of endless sand: the wastelands. I followed them to the right, finding the jagged mountains that held the path to Hekla Fell, and then stepped left.
There was the Starsea, a massive black stretch with dabs of white paint for the glittering dunes and misty clouds overhead; there was the dark river Styx, running far overhead and extending over the ceiling.
The High Priestess said nothing as I walked the length of the room, picking out new cities, rivers, and their names written in delicate script: the river Lethe, the City of Sight, Elysium.
There were so many I had yet to see in person. High above me was a land of ice and snow, labeled as Tuonela; to the East was Yomi, a shadowy place with a string of islands branching into a dark sea.
On the left side of the ceiling, a verdant land with a city of hanging gardens was proclaimed to be Eden. Near it was a circle marked with the same argent thorns I’d seen on the succubus guardians’ armor.
It was only when I’d come to a section of wall that was nearly solid black with ink that I paused. The mountains surrounding it were treacherously sharp, and the artist had depicted hundreds of twisted, dying trees around the name Irkalla.
There was another large city in the lands of Irkalla, a bastion protected by stone sphinxes and clawed harpies, with seven tall arches leading to the cruelest-looking sphinx of all. No one had written its name.
Something about it sent a shiver down my spine, even more so when I realized that the barren land faded into a dark sea near the floor. There were swirls of color in the sea, hinting that it wasn’t quite what it seemed.
I realized I was dawdling, utterly awed by the full map of the underworld. I forced myself to turn around and face the High Priestess. “I’m sorry. I came here to ask for your help in finding Vyra, not to look at maps.”
She inclined her head, her veils fluttering as she slowly strolled the perimeter of the room. “Yes. I know why you came. And it’s only because you gave your magic to help my own that I will help you.”
I decided not to point out that healing Rhalys had actually been a favor to Asmodeus, but the High Priestess turned her face towards me, and I caught a vague hint of what might’ve been a knowing smile. “You think you did this for the Prince of Lust. No; you did it because you are a friend to us. So, we will repay however we can.” She paused near the painting of Dis, her clawed fingers rising to gently stroke the city. “Unfortunately, your efforts here will be in vain.”
I felt a bit like my breath had been knocked out of me. “Why are they in vain?”
The tip of one of her golden claws touched the gleaming little dots of light. “This room is part of the temple beyond. Every succubus communes with our sacred Mother when she comes of age. The Mother guides us; she sees our souls, tastes our hearts, learns our names and protects us. And once our Mother knows us, she always knows where to find us.”
She tapped the dots again. “Every succubus who has undergone the ritual to commune with our Mother is on this map. Short of falling into Tartarus, a land even lower than Hell, we will be able to find her.”
I glanced at the white door. “And this ritual- it involves sex, yes?”
The High Priestess nodded. “When a succubus comes of age, she chooses the one, or ones, who will help her complete her ritual. The sacred power generated in the temple will unlock her mind to the ways beyond; she will be able to commune with the Mother directly, learn her secret name, and receive the gifts she was born to have.” She flexed her claws, making it clear what she meant by ‘gifts’. “She will be taught how to wield her magic. And, of course, the Mother will feel her soul in the exchange, and always keep her daughter in her heart and mind. If her daughter possesses the bravest of souls, she might be permitted to join the ranks of our Mother’s sacred guard, the Silverthorns.”
The dots on the map of Dis seemed to shine even brighter, mocking me.
Vyra wasn’t on this map. She was a virgin, considered freakishly abnormal by other demons; she’d never undergone the ritual to meet with her true Mother.
“She’s not here,” I said, keeping my tone even and swallowing my bitter disappointment. “That’s why my efforts are in vain.”
The High Priestess stepped away from the wall, lowering her claws. “Erisvyra D’ailani did not lead a life typical of our kind. We tend to live communally, but she was abandoned, and found not by a succubus, but by a dark god who raised her as his sister.”
My breath caught in my throat. I’d always thought Azazel and Vyra just had a strange family tree, but I hadn’t considered they weren’t related by blood. “Azazel. He loves her deeply, like his own.”
“He does. Otherwise, we would have dared to defy him and taken her by force. But for all his darkness and the dreaded bloodline he was born from, he’s treated her well… except for allowing her to bypass our rituals.” The High Priestess faced the opposite wall, the dark lands of Irkalla. “If she had been persuaded to meet her birthright, we would be able to find her now.”