30. Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty
Steig
Steig guided his weary horse into the jagged entrance of the Underworld, its open maw both welcoming and unnerving. After tying his horse up on the metal bar installed there for Myka to retrieve later, he began his descent down the long, dimly lit staircase.
He was utterly exhausted—he felt like he hadn’t slept in weeks, maybe even months. This was his third—or fourth?—mission in as many months, all of them with the same goal—to find Ty.
Cole was insatiable. After Steig had returned from the Auster Coven without Gunnar and Chans, the man had become even more unhinged—if that was even possible. Steig had had to come up with a clever cover story—skirting the truth without outright lying in front of Zak—about what had happened.
He’d explained about Gunnar’s dumbass plan, of course, as well as the failed attack and his subsequent capture, but all he’d told him was that he’d been able to get away when the witches left the door to his room open.
Which was all true, except he left out the part where the Auster matriarch had done it on purpose to let him go after he’d agreed to be her spy.
Still, none of that artful lying had done him any favors.
Cole blamed him for not knowing where Ty was, and for Gunnar and Chans’s deaths, so as punishment, he’d been sent out on a near-constant string of missions, each to a different village, searching for any sign of Ty.
Which, of course, didn’t exist, because Ty was apparently on the other side of the Chasm Mountains, and very possibly lost or dead, though Steig refused to believe that.
He’d heard what Ena had said when she and Greya had spoken using their witchy spell, but he knew Ty better than that.
If anyone could survive, it was Ty. He would not give up hope, not until the man’s body was right in front of him—and even then, he would half expect the man to rise from the dead, he was that stubborn.
But in the meantime, he’d had no choice but to go along with Cole’s demands. It had been tough, but truthfully, he’d endure anything to take the heat off of Lara, his family, and the other innocents in the Underworld.
After his descent, Steig made his way through the passageways to the Great Antre, knowing Cole would want a debrief immediately. He walked into the cavernous space, his footsteps echoing off the elaborately decorated cave walls as he made his way towards the giant Convening table.
Cole sat at the head in his throne, Zak to his right, as usual, but all the other faces who sat around it were new, and Steig had to ignore the tightening in his stomach at the sight.
This was the third time Cole had rearranged his advisors since the bond had been broken.
He was constantly removing those he claimed disagreed with him or weren’t serving Iblis properly, and installing new ones at the drop of a hat, but that wasn’t the worst part of it.
Because standing around the table as a forcibly captive audience was another new fixture of the Convenings—the imperi.
At least a dozen upper- and mid-level daemons had been placed into imperae collars in the last few months, including many of Cole’s former advisors.
It was done as punishment for minor slights or perceived disloyalties—one upper-level daemon had been forced into one simply for mentioning their newfound connection to Gaia.
It was now forbidden to reference the Goddess or her will at all, even though all daemons felt her inside them.
And now Cole made those he’d punished watch his rantings and ravings during the Convenings—just to show off his control over them.
Needless to say, everyone was on edge, wondering if they would be next, but none more so than Cole himself.
The man looked unwell—there were dark circles under his eyes, and his face was gaunt, like he hadn’t been sleeping or eating, and Steig knew he had to be cautious.
Like dealing with a feral animal, he had to watch his every move, lest he get bit.
“Steig,” Cole said as he approached the table. “I see you’ve returned to me empty-handed—again.” There was an edge to his voice—an unhinged quality that had escalated since the last time Steig had been here.
“My deepest apologies, my king. Ternan was another dead end,” Steig said, speaking deferentially.
Cole stared at him, seething with hatred.
“A dead end, you say?” he spoke quietly, his voice full of menace.
“I’m beginning to think you may be lying to me, boy.
” Cole fell silent, letting his words—his implicit threat—settle into the air.
No one around him spoke or even moved. “Tell me, are you covering Ty’s whereabouts? ”
“Covering his whereabouts?” Steig asked, feigning innocence. “My king, I swear to you, I truly do not know where he is.” That was the truth—no lie there.
Cole’s eyes darted to Zak, who nodded simply in acceptance of the statement.
“I am sorry that I continue to fail you, my king,” Steig said, lowering his gaze to the floor.
Cole was silent again for a minute, and Steig feared for what his twisted mind was conjuring. “You will try again—this time near Attax and the villages along the coast,” Cole said. “Unger and Jace will accompany you, to assist you, since you seem to be having such trouble.”
“Assist” him? Sure. More like corroborate his story—make sure he was doing as Cole asked.
This was the second time he’d been sent out with other daemons after what had happened to Gunnar and Chans.
He didn’t prefer it, since he had to work harder around them to make sure he appeared to be participating in the mission, but he could make do.
“Of course, my king,” Steig said, nodding his head once more.
“You have until tomorrow to resupply yourself and get a fresh horse.” Cole waved him away, dismissing him from his sight.
Tomorrow? Fuck. Steig had to hold back the visceral hatred that bubbled up in him.
He hadn’t seen Lara or his kids in a month, and now he had less than twenty-four hours before leaving again?
He’d hated Cole for decades already, but never more than in this moment.
What he wouldn’t give to wring the man’s neck and watch the light drain from his fucking eyes while he pissed himself.
Steig took a deep breath, filling his lungs until they hurt, and then he swallowed it all—all his hatred, all his rage and resentment, in favor of his fear. He had to protect Lara and the kids—they had to come first—and the best way to do that was to not get on Cole’s bad side.
So Steig nodded, lowering his head in deference before he turned on his heel to leave the room.
He walked quickly, having to stop himself from outright running once he hit the passageways and was alone once more.
He was desperate to see Lara and the kids—hold them in his arms, reassure himself that they were safe, and make sure that they knew he loved them.
That everything he was doing was for them.
A few minutes later, he burst through the door to their chambers to find Lara sitting at their dining table next to their eldest, the other three kids grouped on the floor with the hellhound.
“Steig!” Lara said, as the brightest smile lit up her beautiful face. She rose, all but running over to him and falling into his arms.
He held her, wrapping his arms around her and grasping the back of her head as he pulled her into a kiss without a word.
“Iblis, I missed you,” he breathed as he came up for air, before continuing to kiss her thoroughly.
“Ew, gross,” Kyn said, breaking Steig’s focus on his wife. He released her to look at his boy, expecting to see disgust, but the six-year-old’s face was beaming.
Steig partially released Lara to give him his full attention. “Did you get bigger?” he asked playfully, smiling back at the boy. “Come here.”
The boy approached him as he crouched down and pulled him in for a tight hug, relishing the feeling of him in his arms. He released Kyn after a minute, hugging each of the kids in turn as they waited restlessly for their turn to greet him.
The guilt of his absence hit him hard then—seeing how excited they were to see him.
He missed them all so much, and though he knew Lara was doing her best without him, it was his job to be here too.
And he wanted to be. It was the only thing he wanted.
After a minute or two of catching up with the kids, hearing about their newest exploits with their friends, their training in the fighting ring, or lessons with their teachers, they got distracted. Once they fell into a make-believe game of some kind, he turned his attention back towards Lara.
“How are you?” she asked quietly, leading him to the table where she had some warm spice buns prepared that he instantly began devouring.
“Fine,” Steig said, his mouth full of food.
Lara arched her eyebrow at him, giving him a look that said she knew better.
“Fine,” he said again emphatically. “Just exhausted.”
“Any sign of Ty?” Lara asked. “Or any…word?”
He knew what Lara was asking. Had there been any word from Greya, or Ena, or anyone about Ty’s whereabouts?
Steig shook his head, rubbing his hands over his face as if he could wipe away his exhaustion. “How have things been here?” he asked.
“The same,” she said. “Agren from the mid-levels was put in a collar last week for requesting additional trades for more grain, but other than that, no changes. I’ve been able to make do with the rations we have.
I redirected some from the king’s kitchen to the lower levels without Cole knowing, so we’re okay for now.
Though I don’t know what we’ll do once the fall harvest is all done in the villages.
Cole’s missions, while more frequent than ever, haven’t yielded much in the way of goods—just death and destruction. ”