Elizabeth smiled and approached the dragon.You may go wherever you like, Gehenna. You are free.
Gehenna blinked.
Elizabeth admired the pebbled skin of the dragon’s face and stood still as the dragon stepped closer.
Gehenna brought her enormous face inches from hers and sneered,Is your friend alive, then?
Barely, but he will live.
Tell him he was a fool to havebeen captured.
Elizabeth grinned.I shall.
Without warning, the dragon blew another gust of hot air on her face and took off, flying with great beats of her wings.
Elizabeth turned to Asmodeus, who was looking at her strangely.
“What?" she asked, confused.
He hesitated. “Nothing. Shall we, Elizabeth dearest?” Asmodeus said, extending his hand. Asmodeus scooped her up into his arms and took off. His wings laboured to lift them into the air, before snapping out into a glide.
Asmodeus headed towards a distant mountain range, crouching his legs into his chest as he picked up speed.
To her alarm, he sped straight at the rock. She cringed, bracing for impact. Asmodeus chuckled—and accelerated. Wind tore at her face as the mountainside rushed towards them, solid and unyielding.
She clutched his arm and screamed, squeezing her eyes shut. Warily, she cracked an eye open. They hadn’t been crushed but had somehow landed in a neat clearing on the mountainside. He set her down and, as soon as her boots hit the rocky floor, she fell onto all fours.
“Was that … an illusion?” she asked weakly.
Asmodeus smirked mischievously and gave her mock innocent eyes. “Oh? Did I forget to mention?”
He burst out laughing. She was about to grumble a retort when she saw stairs carved into the black rock. Atop them was a golden archway.
Unable to believe it, she stepped back and beheld the portal.
The archway was twin to the one in Caspian’s library—transparent film lined in flame, surrounded by artfully warped gold. A rough-hewn blue gem sat above the portal.
“What does it say?” she said, gesturing to a gold plaque erected beside the archway.
The demon glanced at her. “It’s written in Godstongue. It says: ‘The gates to the mortal realm. Do not cross without a guide if you do not want to suffer a most painful death.’”
Curious, she peered at the curling script with accents above letters.
“And that is enough to deter them?”
“Usually.” Asmodeus said.
The sky had lightened from blood red to orange. The air was still warm against her face but more pleasant now, almost soothing.
Large chunks of black stone littered the ground by the portal.
She picked up a rock and examined it. It was impossibly shiny, as if expertly polished by nature itself.
Obsidian.
After brief hesitation, she crammed as many chunks as possible into her pockets. Holding an enormous chunk of the shiny black rock in her hands, she nodded to Asmodeus.
“Ready.”
