Drew felt himself cringe back in fear. “Oh,” he said in a small voice.
Andras seemed to regret painting such a bleak picture, and he offered Drew a small smile. “I’m sure he’ll be more lenient on you since you’re pretty innocent in all of this. He might even let you go.”
Drew didn’t believe that for a second, and he was sure Andras didn’t either, but it was a sweet sentiment. “We’ll figure something out,” Drew said, putting on a brave face. “I know I let us down before by not being able to use my magic, but I’ll try again.”
“Are you already forgetting our magical shackles?” Andras asked, holding up his hand again.
“No, I’m not.” Trying to project confidence he didn’t entirely feel, Drew raised his chin. “These bracelets might stop normal magic users from accessing their power, but they’ve not been tested by me yet. Everyone keeps going on about how powerful I am, so maybe it’s time to prove them right. If anyone can break us out of them, it’s me.”
Andras looked at him for a long moment, then nodded once. “Okay,” he said softly. “But let’s pick the right time. If you try now and it doesn’t work, we’ll be punished for trying to escape. Let’s wait until we get a moment alone.”
“Okay,” Drew agreed, happy to have a plan in place. It might not work, but at least it was something.
Lucifer’s palace was not what Drew was expecting. It was on a vast plain, and not on the edge of a cliff. Its walls weren’t black, but a light cream-coloured stone, as were the tall stone walls encircling the grounds. There was no moat, but there was a lava lake in the middle of the intricate gardens, and the plants weren’t lush and green, they were different sorts of cacti and succulents, and the beds had elaborate stone artwork woven amongst them. Large statues were dotted here and there. The red dirt was meticulously raked, and numerous demons were toiling away busily as the convoy made its way up a long, winding drive from the gates.
There was an odd honking noise, and Drew saw several birds that looked like swans crossed with dragons on the lake. They had long elegant necks covered in scales, black faces, and red eyes. Their wings were feathered, but the tips seemed to be scaled and were honed into sharp points. When one of them opened its beak to preen a wing, Drew caught a glimpse of sharp, pointed teeth.
They reached the palace but continued to follow the road to the rear of the building, where they were met by a large demon with a bulbous nose and only one eye, wearing a stiff butler’s jacket. They watched the Shadow Blades with a derisive expression, and when Orias dismounted, the demon looked down their large nose at him. “Commander, I must object. Please ask your troops to make their way directly to the barracks before they make a mess of my grounds.”
“I have orders from our master, Merihem, which supersede your petty desires,” Orias said with a sneer. “So trot along and annoy someone else.”
“How dare you!” Merihem gasped. “You insolent sod!”
“I do not have time for your theatrics today,” Orias snapped. He gestured to his troops to dismount. “Form up,” he commanded.
Merihem watched with horror as the Shadow Blades got off their mounts and into formation, their heavy boots crushing the odd plant here and there. “This is uncalled for,” Merihem protested. “Our master shall hear of this!”
“Excellent,” Orias said. “Be a dear and tell him I’m escorting the prisoners to their cells while you’re at it.”
Merihem stomped off, heading through a large door into the palace.
“Get down, both of you,” Orias told Drew and Andras.
Drew held onto the saddle and swung his leg over, stretching it down to reach the ground. He was too short, and so he had to drop to the ground, but it was further than he’d estimated and he stumbled, falling flat on his face.
“Don’t try to escape,” Orias barked.
“I’m not,” Drew wheezed as he pushed himself up onto his hands and knees. “Ow.”
“He’s just very clumsy,” Andras said, before he swung himself down from the saddle with exceptional grace and then helped Drew to his feet. “Are you okay?”
“I ache all over,” Drew complained, the list of each body part that hurt too long to recite now.
Andras pressed his lips tightly together, as if to stop himself from saying something. Drew didn’t need to hear the words to know what he was thinking—things were probably going to get a lot worse.
Orias barked an order to his troops, and half of them fell into line behind Drew and Andras. Orias walked beside them, with one other demon on the other side, boxing them in. They entered the palace by the same wooden door that Merihem had used and found themselves in a wide hallway. Voices and the sounds of dishes rattling came from a closed door on the right, and Drew guessed it was the kitchen. There was no one else in sight.
They marched down the hallway, easily passing four abreast with room to spare. The inside of the palace was rather utilitarian, but Drew guessed they were in the “staff” area that guests didn’t see. The floor of the hallway was the same cream stone the outside walls were made of, worn smooth by countless footfalls over the years, and the walls were made from whitewashed plaster, unadorned by artwork or tapestries. Sconces lined the hall, but the light source wasn’t an open flame, it appeared to be natural gas.
Drew’s chest got tighter and tighter as they walked deeper into the palace. His hands were clammy and trembling, and he felt like he was going to vomit. His mind kept throwing up myriad horrible torture techniques he might be subjected to, and he wanted to find somewhere to hide, or to run far, far away. Was it going to hurt? Oh, god, it was going to hurt so much. He was no stranger to pain, since he injured himself on a regular basis, but that was different. That wasn’t all encompassing, endless pain with no relief in sight.
Warm fingers twined with his and squeezed gently. “Breathe, precious,” Andras whispered.
All Drew could manage in return was a terrified whimper.
“I’m not going to let them hurt you. I swear.”
It was a nice sentiment, but not one Andras could guarantee.
