Chapter 7 Rhianelle #2
I gasp for air once I slip out of his head, my eyes swimming with unshed tears. My mind whirls to the worst possible outcome. What if a beast from the forest got to her?
“Kevin,” Kheirall suddenly says.
A crow sweeps in to perch on his shoulder. Some kind of unspoken language passes between the two of them and the bird flies away. “I will do everything in my power to help you.”
“Is there a chance for him to find her?” I hate the vulnerability in my tone.
Kheirall’s face softens as he looks at me.
“Don’t worry. You chose to visit us on such a lovely night—the Vlatteran.
It’s one of those nights when the power of my kin is at its peak,” he mutters, his eyes never leaving mine.
“It won’t be long until Kevin and his friends gather the answers you seek. ”
That promise blows an ember of life back into my weary heart. Gratitude, and another strange feeling, flutters in my chest for the demon’s kindness. I shake it off immediately. He is an enemy of Aelfheim, I remind myself.
“We should return to the others now,” I say quickly. He gives me a thin smile before nodding and leading the way.
The delicious aromas of spiced fish and meat waft into the dining hall. I settle on the chair beside Rainer at the long table. I expect him to reprimand me, but he simply asks me if I’m alright. I assure him and my knights that I am.
“This isn’t much. But please accept this humble feast,” Kheirall invites with a broad smile.
The food on the long table is mouthwatering. But we all know the general rule with fae and demons is simple.
Never accept their offer of food, drinks, games, or bargains.
Not one of my entourage touches any except for poor, honest young Cedwyn. He’s completely besotted with Silka as she gently pops a grape into his mouth.
Eamon and Ctibor resume pestering Kheirall to persuade him to join our cause. I know the sound of their voices is grating on Rainer’s nerves. For the first time, I don’t mind their persistence if it means stalling time until we wait for Kheirall’s little spy to return.
“You sure know how to pick a place to make your home. Right in the heart of the In Between,” Aelfric mutters once the Aldarelfs pause their relentless scheming to take a breath.
“Is it because the Gate of Hel is here?” Garrett muses, fishing for information.
“The Hollow will be wherever I deem it to be,” the Demon Lord answers with a smile.
A crow glides into the room and lands on the headrest of Kheirall’s chair. It frantically chatters in his ear, waving its feathers. I pray it’s the same one from earlier with news about Blaire.
“Kevin tells me your people were attacked by Akaloth’s bandits on her way home,” the demon announces.
If I was not already seated, I might have fallen to the floor. Hushed murmurs of shock filter through the hall. I hold my breath as the bird continues to caw. “But all of them are alive and well. She was taken to Tavan fortress.”
Hope, small and precious, stirs in my heart.
“That is a shame, but there’s no way we can help her without risking war with the fae,” Eamon says without sympathy, crossing his arms.
I feel my chest crush until Kheirall adds, “You won’t. Akaloth’s followers are made of insurgents neither from Myrkheim nor Avalon. Even Eirik has constant problems with them.”
“Why should we trust you?” Tierra of Ironwood breaks her silence.
“I have no reason to lie,” Kheirall replies without taking offense. “Have you seen the banner on top of this castle?”
Eamon grunts begrudgingly.
“Anyone who acknowledges Eirik Bloodhound as the Eternal Ruler of the seven realms would have displayed it proudly,” Ragnar says with ease. “Akaloth does not fly the Black Rose of Death.”
My brain digests his information, slowly constructing plans to get Blaire back. The thought eddies the moment I see Kheirall clutching his chest.
“Is something wrong?” Aelfric asks.
“If you’ll excuse me. Someone is knocking on my door.” Kheirall eases from his seat and moves towards the center of the hall.
Shadows suddenly fall around us making it harder to inhale a single breath.
The Demon Lord takes one of the many keys dangling from the necklace around his neck, burying it straight into the ground.
Energy ripples through the entire room the moment he twists it.
Heat simmers the particles around me, tingling my skin from the blast of whatever consciousness he unleashed.
Multiple layers of bright red runes encircle that point and Kheirall steps aside. The air in my throat goes dry when the floor inside of the circle crumbles into a sinking hole. I work up the nerve to peer into the vortex. My knees tremble at the sight of legions of monsters trying to climb up.
Oh, gods.
This is a passageway to the Hollow, to hell.
Fear drills its way down to my marrow when I see one of the Fallen so close to the entrance. The behemoth makes a long jump to escape the gate. Kheirall’s face remains unfazed, fierce, and deadly. I can almost hear the power humming from his body. His eyes have turned so dark they flicker to black.
The Demon Lord meets the creature with a single punch, sending the beast and others straight to the bottom of the pit.
He twists the key once again, sealing the chamber.
No one says a word while the demon composes himself.
There’s the answer to Garrett’s question.
The pathway to Hel is hanging around Kheirall’s neck.
The atmosphere seems to cool down, but I can’t stop looking at the devil responsible for keeping the horrors of the Hollow from slithering to the human realm. I finally understand why the Aeonians are so desperate to have him on our side. He catches me staring and flashes me a charming smile.
“For as long as I breathe, they won’t pass,” Kheirall promises, the deep rumble of his voice filling the room. He dusts his hands and turns to the Aldarelfs. “So, you see, I have little time to play with you elves, let alone join you in a war against my dear friend Eirik.”
Eamon is about to open his mouth, but Tierra sets a hand on his shoulder. “I can tell that his heart is set. There is no changing the Demon Lord’s conviction,” she confirms, shaking her head.
“I am but one Lord of Hel,” he says carefully, scanning the Aldarelfs. “It may look as if I’m running things because the other three are too busy having fun. Our realm simply has different wants.”
Tension descends into the hall, until Eamon’s face grimaces with defeat. “In that case, we’ll take our leave.”
“You’re welcome to stay in my castle for as long as you like,” Kheirall offers with a well-practiced smile.
“What’s the point of staying when you made your answer clear?” the Aldarelf retorts.
The Demon Lord seems almost disappointed over the decision. “Dangerous beasts prowl the woods at night. Some of my tenants might not be so nice.”
The thought of Kheirall Balthazar as a landowner collecting rent is extremely odd.
Rainer casts a glance out of one of the large windows as we cross the room.
I follow his gaze and my breath catches.
The forest does seem intimidating in the receding light.
Perhaps leaving the safety of the castle is unwise after all.
“The sun will set soon,” Kheirall says, chasing after us. “The magic of your Noctrals doesn’t work at night. That means you’ll be camping in the forest anyway.”
“And so we shall,” Ctibor dismisses.
For a flicker of a moment, Kheirall appears as if he would do anything to make us stay. He might even lock us up in his castle. I feel the power simmering underneath his skin. “Is it pride or is it—”
“I will not sleep under the same roof as my sister’s murderer,” I say to throw him off.
He levels his gaze at me. “If I sleep in the stable tonight, will you consider staying?”
That response startles me a little. He is still watching me with that unnerving focus.
“We’ll take our chances,” Eamon interrupts. “Our Valorians are more than capable of handling a few werewolves.”
As if on cue, a wolf howls from the sea of trees.
“There are creatures worse than them that prowls the In Between at night,” I hear the demon say, but no one is listening.
He takes a step closer to me, snatching my wrist. Aelfric is ready to rip his hand off, but I want to hear what the demon has to say.
“Tonight is the unholiest of nights in the witch’s calendar,” Kheirall says, his expression darkening like a gathering storm cloud.
“Foul creatures come out to play on the Vlatteran.”
Silence stretches as I meet his dark stare for several beats.
“I have to go,” I say, pulling my hand back.
His iron grip finally yields. “Have my berserker accompany you at the very least if you’re adamant on leaving.”
I inhale a deep breath and nod at the request.
Ragnar strides to our side. I think I might even appreciate the scholar’s company. We reach the end of the passageway when Kheirall calls to me again. “Queen Rhianelle.”
I whirl for one last look at the Demon Lord.
“I truly am sorry about Aerin,” he says, his expression faltering.
I leave the castle with a strange feeling in my chest. Because Kheirall Balthazar, the murderer of my sister, is not the devil I pictured him to be.