He turned me around and pressed his ebonite dagger into my hand. The matte black metal was warm against my palm, the weight reassuring.
Holding the dagger brought back a powerful memory of burying it in Yraceli’s flesh, the heart-pounding terror of believing I was done for. The gut-wrenching disappointment of realizing what I’d done to Belial.
“You know where to stab him first. Aim low.” Belial kissed my forehead, the tip of my nose, and finally my mouth. “I’d come with you, but…”
I kissed him back and pulled my demon-hide pants on. “No, go take care of our Circle. I think the succubi might be more likely to invite a woman in by herself, anyways.”
I strapped a thigh sheath on and slipped the ebonite dagger inside it, then slid my silver claws on over my fingertips. A pang of sadness went through me when I flexed my hand, making the silver points gleam the way Vyra’s did, but I was doing something tangible now, finally moving forward.
The Chainlings informed us that Tascius was on duty guarding Michael, and Azazel had been called away by Pytho, who was irritated over the continued presence of the Grigori Reapers in his Circle. I gave the Chainlings messages to pass on to them before walking out to the stables with Belial.
Capheira was flank-deep in the pond, her mouth stuffed with lily pads. As soon as she saw Belial approaching, she climbed out, shedding water by the bucketful and flicking her tail.
He stroked her nose and fed her an apple he’d taken from the arena, telling her she was a beautiful, good horse. The lightning flickering inside my mount intensified in brightness and speed, her smugness clearly showing as Belial crooned to her.
She was perfectly happy to let him saddle her. Belial lifted me onto her back, leading her to the front of the arena and out into the street. The click of Capheira’s hooves was muffled by all the ash and dust piled on the obsidian road.
“Take care of my princesses, you brilliant beauty,” he told her, and Capheira tossed her head, nibbling his shirt.
“You’re going to make Arcturus jealous,” I said with a laugh.
“I’d tell you to be careful, but what I really mean is to make sure you’re the last one standing if anything happens.” Belial ran his fingers down my thigh and rested his hand on my knee. “You’ll be safe with the succubi. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” I said, and Belial backed away. Within seconds he was shifting into a golden lion, his flaming tail whipping behind him as he headed towards the ruins of the Brightside.
I nudged Capheira into a walk, guiding her towards the main thoroughfare that led upwards. “Come on, pretty girl.”
It wasn’t a smooth ride by any stretch of the imagination. Buildings that had cracked and toppled had fallen into the streets, creating massive mounds of rubble that Capheira needed to navigate through. The gentle wind of the Nightside had blown the ash against fences and foundations that looked like drifts of gray, dirty snow. The smell of flowers was long gone, replaced with the acrid stench of burning.
My chest tightened at the sight of all the damage, but even more surprising was the number of demons who seemed absolutely thrilled with the destruction.
They danced in the streets, some painted in bright carnival-like colors, even as they hauled rubble away.
One of them was jumping on the plinth of a fallen statue. “The King is dead! The King has fallen! Fuck the Dragon!” he screamed.
In the Sixth Circle, they’d made an effigy. A scarecrow dressed in a black suit and stovepipe hat was hauled up and tied to a pyre. They danced around it as it burned, their limbs contorting like acrobats, and the wind carried away streams of smoke and red-hot cinders.
I watched the stovepipe hat go up in flames, my heart pounding. It wasn’t real, only a bunch of straw stuffed inside the suit… but God, what I wouldn’t give to watch the real Satan burn now, impaled on a whole and unbroken Sword of Light.
Just the look of agony on his face would feed my soul.
It seemed amazing to me that people could be celebrating at all, with their homes in piles around them, the dead piled by the dozens, the pall of smoke hanging over Dis.
But if I hadn’t lost Lucifer and Vyra, perhaps I’d be out there with them, dressed in veils and glittering with paint.
Only I’d be dancing on the ashes of the true corpse.
Before I left the Circle of Heresy, I caught sight of Prince Leviathan in the distance. He stood over a line of neatly lined bodies, pouring oil over their bodies on a hastily constructed pyre.
He looked up before I passed. Even through the skull mask he wore, I imagined I could feel the deep anger in his gaze.
I shivered at the sight and felt much more at ease as I passed through Sloth, where all of the demons were working slowly but steadily. Many of them yawned, their heads and shoulders bowed with tiredness.
The higher I went up, the less destruction there was. By the time I reached the Second Circle, almost all of the buildings were still completely intact. The only sign of damage was the wind-bent trees and the occasional tilted lamp post, but the upper Circles had been doing their part by taking in the injured. Many of Lust’s buildings seemed to be spilling over with people who needed healing… or people who needed distraction from healing.
I glanced over my shoulder at the lower Circles before I turned Capheira into Asmodeus’s territory, but it was the sky that caught my eyes.
I’d never seen winged demons flying openly over the middle of Dis before. They’d always tended to stay over the Circles.
Now they were flying en masse over the empty Pit. Entire teams of demons were ferrying supplies back and forth, and messenger imps were darting back and forth like dragonflies.
It was an odd sight, all those demons having the freedom to fly where they wanted without fear. And even odder than I’d find that odd at all.
I turned back around, intending to nudge Capheira into a canter, and jerked in surprise instead. A very tall, copper-haired Prince was blocking my way, his fingers looped in my horse’s bridle.
“Look who we have here,” Asmodeus purred. “A little angel without her retinue.”
I frowned at him. “I’m here to see the succubi, not you.”
Asmodeus released Capheira, walking around and taking in my bandaged wing. “How unfortunate, when I’m so happy to see you.”
At least Belial had given me the ebonite dagger. It made me feel a lot better about talking back to a Prince. “I can’t imagine why. You know I’m just going to reject you again, so why don’t we skip that whole conversation and go to the part where we say goodbye?”
Asmodeus just smiled up at me, his amber eyes twinkling. “Why let you go now, when you’ve given us so much fun?”
I sighed and prayed for patience. He couldn’t help but be what he was. “Prince Asmodeus. One of my mates and my best friend in this world are missing. I need to talk to the succubi, so if you’d be so kind, I want to get on with it.”
He tossed his long hair over his shoulder. His muscular torso was oiled and every ridge of it gleamed in the half-sun, but there was nothing appealing about it. All I could imagine was just how many people touched that torso in a day.
Probably hundreds. I preferred my ever-loyal mates to someone like Asmodeus.
“I’ve heard you have the healing touch,” he said, looking up at me from under his eyelashes.