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 useless circles 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.
I took in our adversary, surprised by the state we’d found her in. Mara looked haggard. Her inky black hair fell wildly out of place, and her clothes had been ruined, torn, stained with blood and dirt.
Sitri halted our steed and dismounted. My heavy boots clacked as I landed by his side.
I loosed the leather straps securing my weapon to my back and pulled it into my hands.
The horse was on its own now. Thanks to its formerly human mind, it could defend itself, or else become a convenient distraction.
My heart beat quick with anticipation; tension coiled in the air. I needed to land only a single strike to disable her. Sitri had warned me against trying. He took his revolver in one hand and a spiral dagger in the other.
We were ready to engage.
I hung left, just as we’d rehearsed, while Sitri advanced on my right towards the bridge.
“Drop your weapons and prostrate before your Prince, Mara,” he called as his feet met the first cut stones. “I will consider giving you a place in my prisons if you comply.”
Dark, cruel laughter spilled forward from the demoness, sending primal fear straight to my core.
“You expect me to stand idly by and watch as the Duke of Peace and Love rots your kingdom from within?”
I swallowed. She wasn’t about to surrender.
From beneath her tattered cloak and dress, Mara drew a silver blade. It gleamed in the light of our demon steed’s mane, maintained and pristine, even as Mara fell into neglect. “You always were a fool, Sitri. Taking help from that monster will undo you.”
“Halt her.”
At Sitri’s command, the demon hounds leaped.
The muzzle of his revolver flashed, the echo of a gunshot followed, but Mara was already in motion.
A shower of stone on the far bank warned me he’d missed his mark.
The first hound lunged with fangs bared, only for its quarry to duck beneath it.
Claws scrabbled on the bridge. It couldn’t find a foothold and toppled over the platform’s edge with a whimper.
My heart sank as I watched it plummet into the abyss—a timely reminder that the gorge posed a danger to us all.
Mara closed in on Sitri. I drew a sharp breath. They turned into a whirlwind, blades clanking, and Sitri fired another shot. At point-blank range, he must have struck her, but it didn’t slow Mara in the slightest.
She whipped around the Prince, disengaged, and sprinted out into the badlands. Sitri hesitated at the bridge’s edge, hound at his side, pistol raised, but silent.
Why wasn’t he advancing? This was our chance, what we’d hoped for; a clean shot for Sitri, an opportunity to engage far from the gorge’s banks, a weakened foe who would sooner outrun us than fight.
My body felt stronger, my senses sharper than they’d ever been before.
I held a deadly weapon with deceptive range.
If all she wielded was a knife, and if Sitri had already wounded her, my odds wouldn’t be half bad.
Someone had to stop her, and it might as well be me.
I sprinted after Mara, following her away from the gorge, breaking from the rest of the party. Sitri called to me from behind, but I ignored him. The demoness spun on her heels. We came face-to-face, just a few arm’s lengths apart.
Mara smirked, and I knew I had her full attention.
At the crack of Sitri’s revolver, we jumped into action, stone fracturing beneath where Mara had stood a heartbeat earlier.
As she closed the distance between us, I moved to strike her legs.
She leaped out of the way of my downward swing, just as I’d seen Sitri do in training, moving fast enough to blur.
The head of my weapon screeched as it scraped the ground.
Its weight pulled me down. By the time I reset my stance, Mara was upon me.
She thrust her knife towards my waist. Sharp, cold pain lanced through me as it slid between the layers of my armor. Mara’s smirk gave way to a grin. She jerked the handle of the blade and tore it across my stomach. Wet heat rose from the wound. I shrieked, stumbled backward.
“Untrained, unbalanced, undisciplined,” Mara muttered as I pulled myself from her blade.
I clutched at the freshly opened wound. Blood welled up from it, seeping between my fingers, hot and sticky.
“I was content to let you be,” Mara shouted, “but if you’d like to give me a second chance to cut you down, I don’t know how I could resist!”
I narrowly staggered out of the way of another strike aimed straight for my throat.
My stomach screamed in agony with every step.
I tightened my hold on my weapon, prepared to parry any incoming attacks.
Before they came, a third gunshot made Mara flinch.
Her blood spattered against the stone beneath her, black as ink against gray rock.
That was my chance. I tried to raise my morning star. My torn innards strained in protest. Unable to support its weight, I dropped the weapon. It crashed to the ground. I followed it moments later, landing on my hands and knees, heaving for breath.
Somewhere behind me, the remaining hellhound’s claws scraped stone, and Sitri’s boots thundered through the badlands. The hound arrived first, bounding over me in its stride and barreling straight for Mara. Just as she had before, she ducked out of its way and let it skid to a halt.
I suddenly understood Sitri’s hesitation to bring me along.
I was once again in over my head. Two more rounds fired from his revolver, and then he appeared at my side.
One bullet struck Mara in the chest. Crimson droplets erupted from the wound.
Her mouth contorted in a scream. Sitri’s eyes met mine.
He hesitated for just a moment, aiming at the injured demoness, teeth bared, and—click.
Sitri’s pistol failed to fire.
Dread washed over me in waves. How many rounds had he used up? It would take Sitri time to reload, time we didn’t have, not with Mara so close. She gave a wet, raspy laugh, likely doing the same math I was.
“You cannot have us both,” the demoness gasped. “Make your choice, my Prince; disable me, or save her.”
Mara stilled, as did Sitri’s hound, both waiting for the Prince’s decision. With a growl of frustration, Sitri abandoned his stance and scrambled to my side. He kneeled and returned his weapons to his belt. Agony ripped through me with every movement, and cold crept into my muscles.
“Sitri?” My strained voice came as a whisper. “Can blood loss annihilate a demon?”
He bit his lip and peeled the sticky, blood-laden armor away from my skin. When Sitri saw the extent of the damage, his jaw clenched. It must have looked bad.
“I should never have brought you here.”
I winced. Sitri’s words stung nearly as much as Mara’s blade.
“It’s not fatal—or it won’t be, so long as we get you out of here quickly,” he said.
A yelp drew both our attention, and I glanced up to see her wedge the knife between the hellhound’s ribs.
Mara slid it between the hound’s bones, across its chest as if filleting a cut of fresh meat.
Even as injured as she was, she felled the beast with ease.
I’d begun to understand what made her such a deadly adversary.
Mara had a knack for finding the subtle gaps in her opponents’ armor and exploiting them.
She was fast. She was smart. Most importantly, she was precise.
The Prince gritted his teeth, and I struggled for every breath. The battle was lost. We both knew it. For the second time, I couldn’t help but wonder how the fight would have gone if I hadn’t made myself a target.
“Horrors!” Sitri called to the demon horse as he wrapped an arm around my back. The other hooked under my knees. One firm heave lifted me into a bridal carry, sending another shock wave of pain through my stomach.
I whimpered, though I didn’t resist. Sitri’s warmth brought me comfort as my own heat drained away. His steed came running. As it halted, he mounted it, still holding me tight in his arms.
“Let us return,” he ordered, and with no need for direction, the demon horse was off.
Each of its hoofbeats shook more pain and blood from my body, leaving a trail of my essence in its wake.
As we rode towards safety, I stole one last glance back at the battlefield.
All had gone silent. Mara stood over the motionless hellhound, eyes gleaming like an animal’s in the dark.
The demoness didn’t give chase. She had no reason to.
She’d earned a decisive victory, and with it, her escape.
“What happens now?” I asked. My eyelids drifted shut.
Sitri’s hold on me tightened. “We get you back to Lantyca for healing, and then we regroup. We have no other course of action now.”