Finally, we came to the Blood Volcano.
It was magnificent in a gory way. Although, to be honest, you couldn't tell that it erupted blood. The flow seemed off, more fluid and less sluggish, but it was a similar color to magma. And I knew all about magma. We lava flowing continually to either side of Castle Aithinne in Faerie. This stuff didn't glob or bubble, nor did it form a black crust on top, but from a distance, the average person wouldn't know the difference. It was when you got close that things became disgusting.
We landed on the bloody ground, and the Devil didn't pause to check on us. He set Viper aside and went forward immediately, his boots squelching through the overly saturated soil. The blood was purified, so it didn't pose a threat, but that didn't mean I wanted it staining my clothes or wings. I banished my wings so I wouldn't have to worry about dragging them, but Azrael, Luke, and the Demons just lifted theirs, used to the landscape.
Soon enough, we came to an entrance in the mountainside, and the sandy soil gave way to rock. Within the volcano, the streams of magical, evil blood collected before getting purified and spewed out the top. We came across one such stream and followed it deeper into the mountain, leaving bloody footprints beside it.
Then I heard it—one of the most annoying sounds in all the realms. The yapping of a little dog.
“Princess!” I called.
The yapping stopped briefly, then increased in intensity.
“We're over here!” a deep, masculine voice called over the barking.
“Cerberus?” Morpheus shouted and hurried forward.
“Morpheus, wait!” I called after him.
“No, kid. I go first.” Lucifer grabbed Morph's shoulder and yanked him back. “This is my territory.”
Morph nodded, but shouted to Cerberus, “We're coming, Cerberus!”
“Hurry!” Cerberus shouted back.
“Dang it,” the Devil muttered and started to run. “Get behind me, everyone.”
“Aren't we supposed to say that to him?” Trevor whispered to me.
I would have laughed if I wasn't so worried about Princess and Cerberus. Instead, I just ran. We chased the Devil through the winding tunnels, along streams of tainted blood, until we came to a cave.
“Careful!” Cerberus shouted.
We stumbled to an abrupt halt. Before us, a stream of blood widened into a pool. In the center of that pool, Cerberus sat on a tiny island, his body encased in chains. Beside him wasthe Devil's pitchfork, stuck in the ground, pointing up. Above that pitchfork hung Princess in a net, her tiny body writhing as she barked.
“She's been struggling,” Cerberus said, his stare going to the top of the net, where a rope attached the squirming parcel to a craggy rock. “I've been trying to keep her calm, but she only struggles more. That rope is about to give.”
“Enough of this nonsense,” the Devil said and held out his hand. He frowned, strode to the edge of the pool, and extended his hand again. “Come here!”
The pitchfork didn't move.
But Princess did.
An ominous creaking came from above.
“Everyone just stop!” I shouted.
Even Princess obeyed me, going quiet for a few seconds. She swung above the deadly points, her white muzzle poking through the ropes, and whined.
“It's okay, Princess,” Cerberus called to her. “You're going to be okay.”
The dog started yipping and struggling again.
“Shut up, Cerberus!” I snarled.
It went quiet again. Even the dog.
“Love can't save her,” I whispered in revelation. “We need to be stern. Cold.”
