“Oh no, that’s enough of that,” Orias said, walking back over from where he’d been overseeing his troops stuffing Leila into a cage. He pulled two woven bracelets from his pocket and forced one of them onto Drew’s wrist.
“You made me a friendship bracelet!” Drew exclaimed happily. “It’s so pretty!” He turned to see Andras dropping his head into his hands. “Andras, why did you want us to get away? Orias is really nice!”
“No, precious,” Andras said. “He’s not.”
“I’m really not,” Orias agreed. The last thing Drew saw before his world went dark was Orias’s fist coming for his face.
When Drew woke, his head was pounding; he was sure something had died in his mouth, and his stomach roiled as he swayed back and forth. Hecracked his eyes open and saw he was belly down over the back of a large moose-like creature. Opening his eyes had been a mistake, as he promptly vomited all over the side of the beast carrying him.
A voice called out to stop, and they came to a blissful halt. Rough hands tugged at the ropes tying him down, and then Drew was pulled upright in the saddle. “Here,” a familiar voice said, and a leather flask was shoved into his face.
Drew squinted at Orias in the predawn light as pieces of the puzzle of where he was and how he got here fell into place. His stomach turned over again, and he swallowed down the bile that threatened to escape.
“It’s water,” Orias said, shaking the flask. “Drink. You’ll be dehydrated.”
He tentatively took the flask and sniffed at the opening. It did appear to be water, so Drew took a small sip, and then guzzled down several large mouthfuls after that. His stomach settled a little, and although his head was still pounding, his mind cleared a little more. “Where are you taking us?” he asked.
“To see my master,” Orias said, taking the flask back and re-stoppering it. He walked off before Drew could ask anything else, and he watched as Orias mounted his own moose-creature.
“You okay?”
Drew turned to his other side to see Andras saddled up next to him. He wasn’t tied down at all, but he wasn’t making any move to escape either. “My head hurts,” Drew admitted.
“I’m not surprised. Between the hangover and the punch you took, I’m surprised you’re upright.”
“How long was I out?” Drew asked, worry building.
“You came to less than a minute or so after the punch, but then you fell asleep. I don’t think you’ve got a concussion,” Andras assured him. Drew wasn’t sure how the demon had known what he’d been worried about, but he definitely felt reassured. “We’ve been on the road for about two hours now.”
“Where are we going?”
“We’re being taken to the palace,” Andras said in a flat tone. He turned to look ahead, his shoulders slumped in defeat.
“To Lucifer’s palace?” Drew clarified.
Andras just nodded.
“Fuck.” Drew looked around, noting they were surrounded by armed demons. Leila was on the back of another creature, just behind them, locked in a small cage. She looked as miserable as Drew felt but at least she wasn’t hurt. “Should we try to get away?” he whispered to Andras.
“The time for that has come and gone,” Andras said. He held up his hand and shook it, showing off the braided bracelet surrounding his wrist. “These are bespelled to stop us from accessing our magic.”
Drew swallowed hard. This was not at all how this was supposed to go.
Andras didn’t seem in any mood to talk, and so Drew just sat quietly, stewing in his own thoughts. He thought of Zach and how worried he must be. He thought of his aunt Harriett, and wondered if he’d ever see her again. Drew even worried about Princess, and if someone would let him out of the room so he wouldn’t starve to death.
He had no idea what to expect of Lucifer. All he had to go on were the biblical stories he’d heard growing up, which were only loosely based on the truth, and the little he’d heard from Zach and Andras. Drew knew he was the Prince of Hell. He knew he was the most powerful demon in this realm. He knew he hosted parties for upper demons to celebrate local festivals. Andras was terrified of him, but also in awe of him. That was about the extent of Drew’s knowledge, and it wasn’t enough to give him any hints of what to expect.
They were going to Lucifer’s palace. He pictured a looming black castle, sitting high on top of a cliff, surrounded by a moat and a drawbridge. There would probably be lots of dark, dank dungeons and rooms full of torture devices. Drew shuddered as he thought of all the things that could be doneto them there, and how helpless they would be without access to their magic.
He was getting more and more scared as his imagination ran into overdrive, and he started to chew on his bottom lip. At one point, it split open, and instead of wincing at the pain, he welcomed it. It dragged him from his catastrophizing and cleared his mind just a little.
“What’s Lucifer like?” he finally asked Andras, needing to have some idea of what they were in for.
“I’ve only met him the once. I’m no expert,” Andras said with a shrug.
“Yeah, but didn’t you play cards or something with him? Surely that would have given you a bit of insight into his character.”
“I saw the version of him he portrays to the upper echelon,” Andras said bluntly. “He was polite and charming, but you don’t get to be the Prince of Hell by being polite and charming, Drew. Any demon can challenge Lucifer for the role of prince, and yet no one has come close to overthrowing him in over a dozen millennia. That’s how powerful he is. Then you have the Shadow Blades. They have earned their reputation of being ruthless, dangerous, and deadly. Lucifer doesn’t hesitate to use them to dole out his punishments. He may not get his own hands dirty very often, but he’s happy to use his demons to inflict pain and torture on those he deems deserving.”
