It rushed over Adrian like the wind before a thunderstorm, filling his lungs with the cool, wet, woodsy smell of the forest. Warlocks were screaming all around him about the hole the explosion had just blown through the bottom of their tower, but Adrian could barely hear them through the sudden, bittersweet wave of homesickness. For one glorious second, it truly felt as if he was back in his own Blackwood with the soft loam under his boots and the rustle of leaves in his ears. The feeling was so vivid, his hands went up of their own accord to touch the branches he could almost see waving above his head. He was still reaching in vain when something real and hard slammed into his palms instead, and Adrian snapped out of his haze to see hewas clutching a broomstick topped with the carved likeness of a raven.
“Bran?” he said, blinking his mirrored eyes rapidly. “Is that—”
The broom yanked him off his feet before he could finish asking such a stupid question. Also just in time to avoid the Princess of Wrath, who was leaping down the stairs to grab him from behind. Her white fingers actually brushed the hem of Adrian’s coat before Bran snatched him high into the air. Much higher than was necessary, Adrian thought, until he heard a new voice shouting words through the chaos.
It sounded like Ancient Sumerian. That wasn’t unusual in Gilgamesh’s domain, but Adrian didn’t understand enough of the language to know what was being said or who was saying it. His best guess was that one of the overseers was throwing out some magic of their own, but this turned out to be only half correct. The wordsweresorcery, but they hadn’t come from Gilgamesh’s people. This ringing voice was speaking from inside the hole the explosion of witchcraft had just put in the tower’s foundation, which wasn’t actually a foundation at all. It was the sealed-off entrance to another flight of stairs. A detail Adrian could now see clearly from his new position high in the air as the incantation reached its completion, and a giant bull made from smoke and sorcery bashed its way through what was left of the floor to trample the chained princess.
The entire tower dissolved into chaos after that. Dangling from his broom’s handle, Adrian had a perfect view as all the white-robed warlocks who’d swarmed him earlier started to flee. The sorcerous bull charged after them, galloping up the spiral staircase and breaking everything in its path.
The flying pieces of desks, chairs, and filing cabinets would have gone through Adrian like shrapnel if Bran hadn’t jerked him out of the way. The broom did a barrel roll next,flipping himself over so that Adrian ended up sitting in his normal position on the back of the broomstick. He was still catching his balance when Bran suddenly dove for the ground, swooping like a falcon through the clouds of dust to pick up the fluffy black cat who’d just climbed out of the broken floor.
“Boston?” Adrian said, releasing his death grip on the broom’s handle to rub his eyes and make sure he wasn’t dreaming. “Is that really you?”
“Who else would it be?” the cat replied smugly, puffing out his chest as he hopped into his usual position on Bran’s handle. “Surely you don’t think a little thing like death could prevent a familiar of the Blackwood from finding his way back to his witch?”
He sounded insufferably pleased with himself. For once, though, Adrian didn’t mind at all. “I’m so happy to see you!” he cried, lurching forward to pull Boston into a hug. “But what are you doing in the Hells?”
“Looking for you,” Boston said, rubbing his head against the underside of Adrian’s chin. “This is a rescue! Now let’s get out of the way and give our allies some room.”
Adrian’s hopes had never risen so far so fast. He actually felt physically dizzy as he signaled Bran to whisk them back up to the top of the security tower’s spiral stairwell. They’d just made it to what Adrian considered the minimum safe distance when Iggs stepped out of the dusty chasm left by the sorcerous bull.
It really shouldn’t have been a surprise. If Boston had come for him, ofcourseBex’s demons would be here to save her. Knowing that didn’t stop Adrian’s heart from hammering below its tree, though, especially when he saw the chained Princess of Hate emerge from the pile of rubble the magical bull had left behind.
“Iggs!” he shouted through the dusty air. “Watch out!She’s…”
His voice trailed off in shock as Iggs reached into the ancient-looking knapsack he was wearing on his shoulder and pulled out the biggest gun Adrian had ever seen. It looked like the sort of thing that was normally bolted onto helicopters, not carried by people, but Iggs was no ordinary person. He was a demon of Wrath, and he looked every inch the part as he planted his boots on the rubble-strewn ground and began unloading the machine gun’s belt into the charging Princess of Hate
The roar of gunfire that followed was deafening. It echoed up the tower like a hail of ball bearings, drowning out every other sound except Iggs’s scream of fury. The giant gun had to be kicking like an elephant, but Iggs held it rock-steady, using his enormous strength to keep the barrel leveled at the Princess of Hate’s chest.
It was such an impressive display, Adrian almost didn’t notice that the flying bullets weren’t even chipping the alabaster folds of the princess’s carved dress. But while the mundane, human-made weapon clearly wasn’t enough to bring down Gilgamesh’s sorcerous masterpiece, the kinetic force of all those bullets was doing an excellent job of pushing the princess back. No matter how hard she dug her carved feet into the broken ground, the Princess of Hate was unable to step forward, buying time for the rest of the demons to surge out of the hole in the floor like a tide.
There was a staggering number of them. Uncollared demons of every type, size, and shape were pouring into the guard tower from below. Aside from Iggs, Adrian had no idea who any of them were, though he swore he saw Desh at the front of the pack. The fear demon was leading the charge up the tower stairs with his black scales pulled up to his neck and an automatic weapon of some sort clutched in his clawed hands.
All of the demons had guns, actually. That struck Adrian as very strange but also highly effective, because unlike theprincess, Gilgamesh’s warlocks werenotimmune to bullets. There were a few who managed to throw up sorcerous shields or hide behind their bronze-armored war demons, but most were caught flat-footed by the storm of bullets, falling off the tower’s spiral staircase like white silk sandbags as the demons swarmed up the floors. Adrian was watching them push the line against the warlocks who’d managed to defend themselves when Bran’s broomstick suddenly dipped.
His first thought was that his loyal broom had just dodged a bullet for him. When Adrian looked back toward the broom’s bushy tail, though, the truth turned out to be the opposite. While he’d been watching the fight, his princess had kept her eyes on him. Adrian didn’t even know where she’d come from, but the Princess of Wrath was suddenly hanging from the back of his broom, her white hands crushing Bran’s broomstick as her golden eyes locked onto Adrian’s in fury.
“We have to leave,” she hissed as she began hauling herself hand over hand up the broomstick toward him. “I won’t let them steal you from our king. I won’t let them steal you fromme!”
Her carved hand lashed out, grabbing the ankle of Adrian’s black boot before he could snatch it away.
“You’remine!” she screamed. “Myprince!Mylove! I won’t—”
Her voice cut off as Adrian whipped his hand down and launched a blast of sorcery into her face. It wasn’t even a proper spell, just the manifestation of his wish to make her go away fueled by the power of his white blood. It never would’ve worked if they’d been facing off for real, but the princess was dangling from a broom that didn’t like her anyway. The moment her fingers loosened in surprise, Bran flicked like a whip, slinging the shocked princess off his broomstick and straight through the window across the tower to their left.
“Nice shot!” Boston cried as her white body crashed through the glass and vanished into the smoky darkness of the Hell outside. “But what was that?”
“A problem,” Adrian muttered, bending over to prod the ankle she’d grabbed. It hurt enough to make him gasp, but it didn’t feel broken, so he pushed the pain away and got back to the matter at hand.
“What’s the plan?”
“You’re looking at it,” Boston said, running down the broomstick and up Adrian’s chest to take his usual position on his witch’s shoulder. “I’m rescuing you, Desh and his team are going for the keys that will unlock all the demons in the Middle Hells, and Iggs and Bex are—”
“Bex?” Adrian interrupted, jerking around so fast he nearly fell off his broom. “Bex is withyou?”
“Of course she’s with us,” Boston said. “Who else do you think could put all of this together?”
Adrian stared at him in shock. “But…” he said at last. “Didn’t Gilgamesh defeat her? Isn’t she locked up?”
