Chapter Twenty-Four
I let out a sigh as I watched the hellhounds sniff about.
They were massive, nearly as large as Sitri’s steed, with the same burning ember eyes. Their razor-sharp fangs and claws made them intimidating beasts. Unfortunately, it had become clear that they were built for combat, not for tracking game.
I wasn’t sure how long we’d spent searching for Mara. We’d started in the mushroom forest, and over many hours, the terrain changed from fungus to untamed badlands. Every so often, Sitri would halt our shared mount and present the hounds with our only lead: a scrap of bloodstained cloth. According to Apollo, it was all that remained of a hunting party that hadn’t returned on schedule. A later expedition found it along this road. Now we had to walk it start to end at a pace that would rival a snail.
We’d come alone, aside from our bestial companions, at Sitri’s insistence. Fewer knives at our backs, he’d said, and more control over the upcoming battle.
Each time we halted, we’d sit and watch the hounds run in uselesscircles before eventually giving up. They’d return to Sitri’s side, we moved onward, and repeated the process in a new area. When I’d imagined joining Sitri on one of his Princely missions, I hadn’t expected the outing to be so boring. In the five days we’d trained together, I’d shown some tangible progress. At this rate, I’d never get to show it off.
“Nothing here either,” Sitri said, as the hounds once again failed to find the trail. “We’re about halfway to the gorge now. We shall sweep along it, and if there is no sign of her, we will have exhausted our options.”
With a whistle, he recalled the hellhounds and mounted our shared horse. Sitri’s hide armor scraped against my plate-inlaid chest piece as he settled in. After hours in the reinforced leather gear, it still felt bulky on my frame. Sitri had insisted that I wear it.
Vapula presented real danger this close to the gorge, even if his demons couldn’t cross it on foot. His armies used automatic weapons, Gatling guns, and complex multilayer armor. Though Sitri had superior skills and magic, we’d be outmatched in equipment and positioning. We had no cover on our bank. It would be easy for them to gun us down at range.
“Do you really think we’ll find her?” I asked. “No one knows how long she’s been gone, let alone where she went.”
“I’m not sure,” he admitted, “but this is the only way she would have come. If we do find her, it will be out here.”
“Don’t you have other borders? Ones that aren’t flanked by giant, bottomless pits?”
“Mara is a known quantity in Hell. My neighbors would see her dealt with if she crossed into their territories, no matter their opinions of me. She wouldn’t dare return to Zaleos after what he did to her, but Vapula? He would be a fool to turn away a willing informant.”
“And she didn’t think of taking you out when she had the chance?” I snorted.
“It’s not so simple. To slay a noble demon is to inherit their name,their title, and their kingdom. What she wants is a clean escape. If Mara were to strike me down, she would corner herself. That is why I’m here. She will go to great lengths to avoid dealing a fatal blow to me, but you… I have no doubts she will destroy you, given the chance.”
Sitri’s answer only raised more questions, but before I could ask them, he brought our mount to a halt.
“Look there,” he said, pointing at the commotion a few feet away.
One hound pressed its nose to the ground, and the other bounded over to aid it. For the final time, Sitri dismounted and presented the hellhounds with the cloth. They sniffed it intently before the larger of the two stuck its muzzle in the air and raised its front paw.
“There’s our runaway demoness.”
“I can’t believe they found the trail,” I muttered as Sitri returned to his place ahead of me.
“Follow it,” he commanded.
His hounds complied with a howl. They started across the barren badland terrain, alternating leads as they worked. I clung to Sitri’s back, our steed galloping forward.
When the gorge emerged from between stone hills dyed monochrome by darkness, memories of my failed escape rose from the pit of my mind. My stomach turned. I held Sitri just a bit tighter. Last time I’d been here, this place was full of warring demons, deadly fire, and brutish soldiers plummeting into oblivion. For now, all was quiet. It wouldn’t stay that way for long.
“Remember the plan, darling?” Sitri’s voice was dark, dripping with anticipation.
I reached for the hilt of the morning star I’d slung over my shoulder. “I think so. Stay back, focus on defense, and make sure I have her attention. We take her in one piece?”
“Unharmed if possible,” he said. “Better to destroy her than allow her to escape. The gorge will be our ally, so long as we mind its dangers.”
“And if I fall in?” I held my breath, waiting for the answer.
“Don’t fall in. Even the Kings of Hell are unsure of what lies at its bottom. Stay back from the brink, and never lose sight of it—not for a moment.”
A ravine took form on the horizon, and our mount slowed as we drew near the remains of a stone bridge jutting from its banks. I’d been here when that bridge fell. Its broken carcass sent chills down my spine. Every instinct I had told me to keep my distance, but the hellhounds didn’t share my reservations. They bounded right up to the paved plateau, congregating at its edges, cornering a small, cloak-clad figure.
The hounds bayed, sending savage howls echoing through the stone. She turned, dropping something that clattered to the ground. A grappling hook—and the rope she needed to complete her escape—now lay at her feet. We’d arrived just in time.
