Chapter 25
Halt! Who goes there?
Kensington had teleported them to just outside the palace grounds, behind a small red hill.
They’d crawled to the top and were lying on their stomachs, watching and trying to come up with a plan of attack.
The urco was lying half on top of Zach, and it had taken a long moment to convince him this wasn’t playtime but serious time.
“I’m guessing there’re wards preventing you from teleporting us directly inside?
” Zach said, as he watched a demon walk along the top of the cream stone wall encircling the grounds.
He could sense some of the warding, which seemed to be comprised mostly of alarms for unauthorized access, but as he wasn’t able to teleport himself, he couldn’t sense anything that would prevent that.
Kensington nodded. “Of course.”
“So we’ll have to rely on stealth?” Cavendish said, and he sounded doubtful. Zach couldn’t help but agree with the sentiment. They weren’t espionage or extraction experts. When they’d come to Hell, they’d not been expecting this.
“What else would you propose?” Tremblay asked with a hint of a sneer. “That we simply walk up and ask for the prisoners to be released?”
Hurt flashed across Cavendish’s features, and he seemed to shrink in on himself. Zach could only imagine how horrible it must be to discover your mentor was an absolute asshole and not as supportive as they’d made themselves out to be.
Kensington hummed. “Actually . . .”
Zach turned to see him looking thoughtful. “What are you thinking?”
“I know you never met him, but what did you hear about Lucifer?”
“Are you asking if I think he’s reasonable and won’t have us killed for walking up and knocking on his front door?”
Kensington lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. “I mean, yeah?”
“That’s madness!” Tremblay objected.
The urco growled at him, and Tremblay flinched back. Zach gave him a pat on the head but refrained from praising him for it, as he considered Kensington’s suggestion. “Maybe not.”
“You can’t be serious!” Tremblay looked between Zach and the Grand Master. “That would be suicide!”
“The chances of us being caught if we try to sneak in are high,” Zach told him. “Then we’d have to deal with an angry Lucifer. If we approach the gates and ask nicely to speak to him, he may be more willing to listen to us.”
“What would we even say?” Tremblay demanded.
It was Zach’s turn to shrug. “The truth?”
“I believe it will be our best bet,” Kensington said. “This is voluntary, Marcus. If you don’t wish to accompany us, you are welcome to remain here, and we can collect you on the way out.”
“You could always stay with the urco,” Zach suggested, a little meanly.
“And be eaten before you return? No, thank you!”
Zach shrugged. “We can take him with us, and you can remain behind alone, then.”
“And if you’re killed on the spot?” Tremblay hissed. “What will become of me then? I don’t have the power to return to Earth by myself. I’ll be trapped in Hell forever!”
There wasn’t even a molecule in Zach that felt sorry for Tremblay, and he knew Kensington felt the same.
He’d bullied his way into coming with them, and now that things weren’t going smoothly, he was complaining about being here.
He would never take responsibility for his own actions, preferring to blame and guilt others.
Somehow, Cavendish was still a good enough person to have some compassion. “Marcus, that’s why you need to come with us. We’re stronger when we stick together. If something goes wrong, I’m sure between the four of us, plus the hound, we’ll be able to escape.”
“So, my choices are to die immediately by going with you or to die slowly when I’m stuck here and at the mercy of demons?”
Zach rolled his eyes and forced himself not to quote Suzie Izzard’s “cake or death” skit. He had a feeling Tremblay wouldn’t see the humour in it, and the scene he’d make might draw attention to them.
Kensington was out of patience. “You can either come with us or stay here, Marcus. Those are your options. The day isn’t getting any younger, so let’s go.”
They crawled back down the hill, and Zach brushed the dust off his clothes.
Cavendish fixed his hair, and Kensington straightened his robes, making themselves somewhat presentable.
Tremblay hesitated, weighing up his options, but when Kensington gestured for them to move out, he scurried after them, not wanting to be left behind.
There was a well-worn road beaten into the red dirt that led to the palace gates.
They intersected it, then turned and started towards the grounds.
Zach saw the exact moment their presence was noted, and a flurry of movement erupted as guards jumped to attention and took up positions.
He had to wonder how much of the haste was due to them or the hulking hellhound at his side.
When they were finally close enough, one of the demons standing guard outside the gates called to them. “State your business.”
They stopped, and Kensington stepped forward as their representative. “My name is Grand Master Bartholemew Kensington of the Nightingale Collective of Earth. I have reason to believe my protégé has been taken into the custody of your prince, and I wish to negotiate his release.”
“And how do you explain the urco?” the guard demanded. “How can I take your word in good faith if you have a deadly beast with you?”
“It’s a pet,” Zach told them.
The guard scoffed. “No one has ever tamed an urco!”
Zach dropped to his knees and ruffled the coarse fur on the urco’s shoulders. “Who’s a good boy?” he asked, imitating the cutesy voice Drew used with animals. “Are you a good boy? Yes you are!”
The urco whuffed happily and placed its massive paws on Zach’s shoulders, before licking all over his face. Then he dropped to the ground and showed his belly, waiting for Zach to give it a rub.
“Huh,” the demon said, stunned. “Um. A moment, please.” Then they turned and spoke to another demon beyond the gates. Several minutes passed before the guard got a signal, and he turned back to them. “You have been granted an audience. Come with me.”
The fact that they weren’t even questioned about weapons or searched and could bring the urco with them was a warning in itself.
Lucifer’s guards were not at all concerned about their ability to crush these visitors if the need arose.
Zach had to admit, psychologically, it was very effective.
He just had to hope it wouldn’t come down to a fight to see who would come out victorious.
They were led down a long, winding drive through gorgeous gardens.
Zach had to admit that part of him had missed the bits of Hell that looked like this.
He adored his new home. Vancouver Island was stunning, and some sights he saw on a daily basis still took his breath away.
There was stark beauty to this landscape, though, that was only hinted at in the most arid regions of Earth.
He’d hated his time in Hell, but now that he was free of the place, he could admit that it wasn’t all bad.
They reached the front of the palace where broad, sweeping stairs led up to ornate double doors, beaten from some sort of dark grey metal.
Demons in smart uniforms stood to attention every third step, and then the doors opened and another demon strode out.
This one had a single brown eye in the centre of their face, a prominent nose, and a stern expression.
“I am Merihem, Prince Morningstar’s head of staff,” they announced. “I have been instructed to show you to the throne room for an immediate audience with my master.”
“Thank you, Merihem,” Kensington said, giving a courteous nod of his head. “I am Bartholemew Kensington, this is Zachariel Angelo, Alastair Cavendish, and Marcus Tremblay,” he introduced.
Merihem nodded at each of them, but then their single eye returned to linger on Zach. “How very fitting,” they observed.
Zach winked.
It was then that Merihem noticed the urco. “Oh.” Their face scrunched up in distaste. “Is the, uh, beast accompanying you?”
“Yes,” Zach said immediately. “He goes where we go.”
Merihem blanched when they noticed how filthy the urco’s paws were.
Then they looked at the state of all of their shoes and shuddered.
“If you would be kind enough to wipe your feet on the rug, and then follow me.” Merihem turned and led them through the doors and into the palace.
They dutifully brushed the dust off their shoes, and Zach even crouched down to get the worst off the urco’s paws.
He didn’t see any point in upsetting the staff and getting things off to a rocky start.
It wasn’t far to the chamber where Lucifer held court, but every square foot they passed was brimming with ostentatious riches and luxury.
From the polished marble of the floor to the artwork and expensive furniture, the message was obvious—you are about to meet the prince, and you are beneath him. He holds all the power.
The room they were led to was as large as a ballroom, with columns of pale stone lining each side to support the ceiling high above.
At the far end was a dais, upon which sat a throne.
In front of the dais were about twenty chairs where those seeking an audience with Lucifer would sit until it was their turn.
The room was currently empty, and Merihem led them to the front and gestured at the chairs. “Please have a seat. My master will be with you shortly.”
They were left alone, and Zach threw himself down into one of the chairs. The urco immediately sat on the floor next to him and leaned his considerable bulk against his legs. “Well, this is going better than I expected.”
“Indeed,” Kensington agreed. “It’s a little disconcerting.”
“At least we’re inside,” Zach said, absently petting the urco’s leathery ears. “If it all goes wrong, at least we have a head start.”
“A head start for what?” Tremblay sneered. “A drawn out, painful death?”
“At my hands,” Zach muttered.
“What was that?” he demanded.
“Nothing,” Zach said innocently.
Tremblay glared, Zach smirked, the urco grumbled happily with his ear rubs, and they waited.