Everyone is staring at me, a not-so-subtle reminder that I’m a mortal surrounded by the infernal. Of course an Archdevil isn’t here to say hello or drop off brownies like a housewarming gift:Congrats on the whole heir to the throne thing!
“Do you have any idea what they could want?” I ask.
“You,” Rosier deadpans. Before I can properly panic, he continues, “Let me do the talking.” I must make a face because he looks at me with a soft expression. “I know that mouth of yours could get us in trouble. Let me talk with them, and we can finish this quickly. Please.”
From up high, I can see Lithobates’s mouth is hanging open even wider than in the bedroom, no doubt reeling over the fact his Prince is saying please.It’s funny, sure, but it’s also a reminder of the weight of his words.
I nod. “Alright.”
Rosier kisses my forehead. It’s then he notices Lithobates staring, and his soft expression burns away, replaced with a snarl and a heavy brow. “What?”
Lithobates croaks and starts prancing down the hall. We reach another grand set of doors. As Lithobates’ presses his hands against them, his feet comically slide along the floor before the doors start to open with a groan.
Even with the doors open just a hair, Baphomet is unmistakable: naked and tall with a goat face and the torso of a human. Their skin is the color of chalk. A set of red goat eyes are watching the door we’re entering through, then a second set of eyes pop open below the first set.
“Is this… the witch we’ve been waiting for?” they ask.
Surrounding Baphomet is an entourage of human figures, pale and naked like the Archdevil they serve. I try to make eye contact with any one of them, but their eyes are glassy, like animals mounted to a wall. Beyond their ashy skin and dead eyes, each person is unique, a few of them with markings on their bodies I recognize as runes.
Rosier takes me to the throne carved of stone in the center of the room. I’m surprised to find Leaf has settled into the seat, curled up in a ball and looking content. Lithobates rushes over, hissing and shooing, before pushing Leaf off the throne. Rudely awakened, Leaf goes after Lithobates furry leg, chasing him behind the throne. Rosier ignores the violence and sits, keeping me in his lap.
The room is quiet, save for Leaf and Lithobates’ scuffle behind us. Then Rosier asks, “You seek an audience?”
Baphomet steps forward, their entourage of human figures following like ants, each person in sync with the next.
“We have quite a lot to discuss, young Prince.” Baphomet’s lips don’t move as they speak, their voice a gravely whisper. “Your Father’s death was quite sudden.”
Rosier waves a hand. “My Father’s death is not your concern. Nor is it mine.”
“Yes, a tragedy. Or a comedy, perhaps? No matter. I hear you were summoned to the Mortal Plane. Is this true?” Baphomet’s four eyes shift from Rosier to me.
“It is true, yes.” He places a finger under my chin and lifts it ever so slightly, like I’m a prize he’s showing off. “She summoned me. Minerva. A most powerful and feared witch on her plane.”
“Some hundred years it’s been since a witch summoned one of us to the mortal realm,” Baphomet muses. “I was beginning to think we were unwelcome. Then again, mortals are sotouchythese days. Quick to start wars and drop bombs, less quick to scheme and plan. But I digress…” An explosion of red eyes erupts all over Baphomet’s body, each one looking in a different direction. “This witch still lives,” their voice booms.
I cower, digging my nails into Rosier’s thighs, clinging to him. Thankfully, he’s unphased by Baphomet’s display and my scratching. “She was in danger on the Mortal Plane. She fled here, without my permission. But I’ve sincepunishedher for such transgressions.”
There’s no way Baphomet can tell he’s talking about sex, right? I don’t think I want the goat-devil knowing about my sex life.
“Dear me, a punishment is wholly unnecessary. Minerva is not the first living mortal to wander the Hells, after all.” Baphomet holds their hands in a pyramid shape as their eyes flutter shut, except for the two arguably normal eyes on his head. “All of this is a delightful development. It’s been so long since we’ve had a living mortal visit. Not to mention the new contract–”
“We never made a contract,” I say.
I think if it weren’t for the Archdevil, Rosier would spank me right here. But it feels weird just sitting here, everyone talking like I’m incapable of understanding what’s going on. Then again, Idon’treally know what’s going on–the full weight is lost on me.
“My soul is not his by, um…” I settle on the word that makes the most sense to me. “Law.”
“Oh…” Baphomet tilts their head. “The heart of a witch is a very valuable thing.”
There’s smirk on Rosier’s face, proud of himself or me, I don’t really care. Something snakes up my arm, and I manage to stay put, realizing it’s Rosier’s tail moving up my arm. It starts to wrap around my neck, not tight, not even pressing the gold and amethyst against my skin. The flat side of his tail rests against my cheek, and I shamelessly lean into it.
“And he has mine,” I breathe. “He has all of me.”
Baphomet is silent, taking all of this in. Holding my breath, I see the dozens of humans at his feet, dying to know if they’ve ever been held in Baphomet’s tender arms.
Lithobates screams and everyone, even the glassy-eyed humans, turn to see Leaf clinging to his furry hide. “My Prince! Compel the witch to control her familiar!”
“He’s just a cat,” I remark.
