It was an enormous stone fortress stretching several stories high, the tips of its spires disappearing into pitch blackness. An enormous iron statue of Mammon was erected in front of it, his legs parting over the River Styx to let the bloody water enter.
We sailed into the structure, Mammon’s boat moving along the outer perimeter of the stone, my eyes shifting quickly to take it all in. It was a circular space, with a giant opening in the middle where the floor should have been. It was also hot as fuck, my lungs burning with every inhale.
When we docked, Mammon grabbed hold of the end of my chain and dragged me off the boat.
It was difficult to walk with the weight of the iron links around me, but I managed. The stone was hot beneath my bare feet, the air scorching my skin. It felt like we’d walked into an oven.
Following in the Lord of Greed’s wake with goblin creatures on my heels, I inched my way nearer to the opening in the floor, curious to see what lay below. The sight had my stomach cartwheeling.
Nearly fifty feet beneath us was a lake of lava, bubbling and boiling. One wrong step was all it would take to die a very painful death.
My eyes traveled upward, above the molten magma, to a raised concrete dais. Four sets of stone steps led up to it, which a few goblin creatures were currently hobbling up and down. I expected to see giant anvils or other forge tools, but there was only a giant cauldron over a roaring fire.
What the fuck?
I imagined a bunch of iron workers making weapons or something in Hell’s very own forge…not cooking fucking soup.
“You’re just in time for a feast,” Mammon announced, sounding proud. He stopped short and whirled to face me, one of his flaming wings nearly brushing my arm.
“A feast?” I peered at the dais again in time to see a goblin dump a sack of various vegetables into the cauldron. Another stood on a ladder, stirring the concoction with a giant spoon.
As they worked, they sang a song, the lyrics creepy and the tune off-kilter. “Toil, toil, burn and roil, in the demon’s brew you’re sure to boil.”
What kind of macabre Hocus Pocus fuckery is this shit?
“Yes, a feast. How else would we celebrate?” The cocky look on his face gave me the impression I was missing something, like the invisible dots were laid out for me but I hadn’t yet connected them.
Were they celebrating…me? I nearly laughed as soon as the thought crossed my mind.
“What’s the occasion?” I asked when he didn’t offer any type of explanation.
Mammon merely laughed, the sound grating against my eardrums. “You, and the new era you bring.”
A new era? Celebrating me? No way this motherfucker kidnapped me and was now throwing me a party. Something wasn’t right.
Seeing the question plain on my face, Mammon continued. “Without you distracting the Lord of Bones, we will finally get the souls we’re rightly owed. My realm will once again be filled with the screams of degenerates. Definitely worthy of a celebration.”
“So you’re eating…soup?” I asked in disbelief, looking between him and the giant cauldron. A goblin was tossing in giant clumps of leafy greens.
“Of course not. That’s just an appetizer.” Mammon jerked on the chain, making me stumble toward him, and leered down to meet my gaze. “You’re the main course, morsel.”
Main course?
I barely had time to register it before Mammon wheeled around and jerked on the chain, leading me toward a set of doors in the stone. They were massive, much like the ones in Belial’s castle, and led into a long, narrow dining hall.
The longest table I’d ever seen was set and ready for the feast, fruit-laden trays spaced intermittently down the center with iron candelabras and bouquets wrought from metal. There were at least a hundred chairs tucked up against the table, though only three were filled.
Sitting at the head of the hall, his white hair spilling over his shoulders, was Belphegor. To his left sat a demon with pale, wrinkly skin and one large, cyan eye in place of a face. The large eye locked on me the moment I entered the hall. To his right was a demon with at least a dozen eyes and a teeth-filled, gaping maw, his many arachnid-like legs folded around him.
The power buzzing through the room was palpable, and I knew who the strange demons were before Mammon opened his mouth.
“It wouldn’t be a celebration without the Lords of Wrath and Sloth joining us,” he said, gesturing to his guests. “They were quite intrigued when I told them about our mortal morsel.”
“Belial is going to skewer you fucks when he gets here,” I snapped as Mammon dragged me down the hall. I wasn’t sure what his plan was, especially since he claimed I was the main course, but I wasn’t going to roll over and take it.
“Belial can’t do shit if he can’t get in,” Belphegor’s voice whipped through the silent space.
The demon was still in the feminine bombshell form I’d met at the ball, but now, he wore a strappy leather number that showedmore skin than not. “He’ll give up trying and crawl back to his realm. You’ll see. Or maybe you won’t…”
