Chapter 58
The Gate of the Underworld
Elizabeth woke to someone knocking. Taking a moment to remember where she was, she untangled herself from the black satin sheets and rubbed her eyes.
Edging close to the door, she placed her ear against the wood. In the gap below the door, she saw black boots.
“Elizabeth?” The sound was muffled, but it sounded like Asmodeus.
Taking a deep breath, she felt for her knife, silently cursing herself for not remembering it last night when Caspian was trying to attack her. She’d been paralyzed with shock at the time. She clutched at the hilt of the blade. But not today. I’ve learned my lesson.
“Elizabeth!” Asmodeus called, knocking again.
Asmodeus, who had told her himself that he’d almost let her die. She gripped the hilt of the silver knife until her knuckles turned white and cracked the door open with her left hand, preparing to strike.
“Open up.” Asmodeus glanced at the knife in her hand. “What’s going on?”
She spoke slowly, “You tell me.”
She peered at his face and saw it had more colour. He had fed. The thought did not make her relax her grip on the knife.
“My apologies for my behaviour last night. I am not used to seeing mortals in the Underworld unless they are … for sport. I am trying my best not to devour you right now.” He chuckled, as if it were funny. “I apologize.”
“I admire your resolve. My life is rather precious to me,” Elizabeth said drily.
Asmodeus laughed. “Funny girl. Open the door.”
“Don’t think I will. Not until you tell me what’s going on, and how I’m getting back home.”
Seeming to find her refusal funny, Asmodeus grinned and heaved on the door, wrenching it open. He raised his brows at her horrified expression and dodged her knife as she tried to stab him.
He avoided each attack with ease, looking unbothered.
She held the knife out, circling him.
“Cute,” Asmodeus said with a wide grin. The sight made her blood boil.
Ignoring her, he strode to the bed and plopped himself on the mattress. “Keep whatever weapons you like, honey, but know they won’t harm anyone here. You could even stab me, and I’d probably be fine.” He waved his hand dismissively.
“What?” she snapped.
“We’re home, baby. In the Underworld. Magic is thick in the air here. If you try to kill me, I’ll heal in a few seconds.”
“Where exactly are we?”
“Seventh circle. Caspian’s humble abode.”
She chewed her lip. “How is he?”
“Not well, my flower, not well. He needs the raw energy here to regenerate. With all they did to him, he would have died if he had been on the surface. You need to go home as soon as possible, and he will have to stay here for a few weeks.”
“Oh, but didn’t you say he heals more quickly here?”
“Yes, but they poisoned him. He cannot access his powers right now and will heal almost mortal-slow, even here.”
“Well … if you can help me get back, I will gladly go.” She paused. “There is one other thing, though,” she said, pausing. “The dragon. I told her we would feed her as a thank you for helping us escape.”
Asmodeus gave an incredulous expression. “You offered it food? What do they even eat?”
“I’m sorry! It’s polite to offer food to a guest! I panicked.” She paused. “In any case. The dragon is a she and eats meat of all kinds.”
“Just what we need with all of the Underworld in chaos,” Asmodeus said drily. “No matter. I’ll take care of it. Does the dragon speak?”
“Mind speech only.”
“Fine, fine. I will deal with the dragon. You need to go. Leave your blood-soaked dress here lest you cause a riot on the way out of the castle.”
He tossed her a pile of clothes. She held the billowy pair of trousers against her legs—they were entirely too big, clearly meant for someone of Asmodeus’s size.
“No peeking,” she admonished, closing the door to the hall and retreating to a far corner.
“Cruel of you, but I’ll behave,” Asmodeus said, sounding amused. He turned to face the wall and said, “What excellent wall patterns. Fascinating. I have never been more riveted.”
She cringed. “Asmodeus … just … would you just be quiet for a second?”
Asmodeus crossed his arms. The clothes consisted of a loose-fitting tunic and pants. She was tall, but the sleeves and pant legs were comically oversized.
Shoving her feet into her boots, she exclaimed, “Finished!”
Asmodeus turned and snorted. “Ah, yes, just as luminous as before. The baggy clothing does wonders for your figure.” He paused, chuckling. “You look lost in that thing.”
She blinked and looked down at the billowy tunic that fell to her knees and the ridiculous pants. “Your fault for getting me the wrong size.”
Asmodeus winked. “I’ll be sure to have the castle properly stocked for your next visit.”
She gave him a look of disdain. “Sadly, I think this will be my one and only trip here.”
“You wound me.”
“You said something about helping me get back to the mortal realms,” she prompted.
“Yeah, I was getting to that. Shall we, little dove?” He held out his arm.
She ignored his offered elbow, choosing to keep her hold on the knife.
Asmodeus glanced at the blade with amusement and gestured for her to follow. They headed down the rough stone steps, out the dark doors, and onto the raised walkway. Her face grew warm as she eyed the molten orange river below.
“I’d recommend not falling into that,” Asmodeus said drily.
She swallowed. “Right.”
She edged nervously across the walkway while Asmodeus looked exasperated from the other side. “Could you walk any slower?”
She gritted her teeth. “Sorry, I don’t have wings. If I fall into that, I die.”
When she reached the other side, sighing in relief at making it across the narrow walkway, Asmodeus snorted. “A year later.”
Not deigning to reply, she followed him through the rough-hewn iron gates.
They beheld the dragon, and Asmodeus twitched. His eyes widened as he took a nervous step forward, and she realized he was afraid.
The dragon lounged against the mountainside, warming herself against the stone. From snout to tail, the dragon was monstrous, stretching over fifty feet long. Seeing them, she lifted her head and fixed her orange slit-pupiled eyes on them, appearing both magnificent and terrifying.
Smoke curled at her nostrils.
Hello, Chainbreaker.
A small demon nervously came up to them, holding a rope with strange ram-like creatures with black horns and sheep-like bodies, but with forked tongues and serpentine eyes.
“Those are ammons,” Asmodeus explained hastily. “Small dwellers of the volcanic mountains of this region, hunted for blood and meat.”
Asmodeus took the rope and brought the ammons within biting distance of the dragon, half-dragging them.
The dragon looked snobbishly down at them, waiting.
When neither of them spoke, she brought her great orange and gold-flecked eyes near. Each eye was the size of a dinner plate.
Elizabeth curtseyed low and held it. She coughed slightly, and Asmodeus bowed beside her.
The dragon said haughtily, Rise, Chainbreaker and demon princeling.
What’s your name, so I can greet you properly? Elizabeth asked.
Gehenna, daughter of Vyrrenu.
That’s a lovely name. Pleased to meet you more formally, Gehenna.
The dragon bared her teeth. Gehenna means misery.
Oh. Er. A good name. Elizabeth said awkwardly, curtseying again out of politeness. This is Asmodeus. He has offered to help find you something to eat.
To his credit, Asmodeus bowed gallantly, eyes fixed warily on her claws. I would be pleased to accommodate you, fair Gehenna.
Asmodeus gently urged the four ammons towards the dragon. They did not want to go any nearer, however, bleating their concern.
He swallowed, looking up as an evil smile graced the dragon’s lips.
Asmodeus swallowed again, then lobbed the first sheep at the dragon.
Gehenna snapped it up and chewed, swallowing it whole, bones and all.
Asmodeus tossed the other ammons, and Elizabeth forced herself to watch with a neutral expression as the dragon ate. The creatures wriggled and struggled but were no match for the dragon that snapped them up with ease.
Gehenna let the last sheep-like creature amble away, allowing it to think it might escape, before flying overhead, banking into a sharp dive, and snatching it up with her talons.
Returning to her original spot against the mountainside, the creature bleated frantically in her clutches. She bared her teeth and tore off its head, downing it in two bites.
Finished, Gehenna lifted her head and fixed them with a stare, snout smeared with blood. She crouched, looking ready to pounce.
Where do I go now? the dragon asked snobbishly.
Elizabeth smiled and approached the dragon. You may go wherever you like, Gehenna. You are free.
Gehenna blinked.
Elizabeth admired the pebbled skin of the dragon’s face and stood still as the dragon stepped closer.
Gehenna brought her enormous face inches from hers and sneered, Is your friend alive, then?
Barely, but he will live.
Tell him he was a fool to have been captured.
Elizabeth grinned. I shall.
Without warning, the dragon blew another gust of hot air on her face and took off, flying with great beats of her wings.
Elizabeth turned to Asmodeus, who was looking at her strangely.
“What?" she asked, confused.
He hesitated. “Nothing. Shall we, Elizabeth dearest?” Asmodeus said, extending his hand. Asmodeus scooped her up into his arms and took off. His wings laboured to lift them into the air, before snapping out into a glide.
Asmodeus headed towards a distant mountain range, crouching his legs into his chest as he picked up speed.
To her alarm, he sped straight at the rock. She cringed, bracing for impact. Asmodeus chuckled—and accelerated. Wind tore at her face as the mountainside rushed towards them, solid and unyielding.
She clutched his arm and screamed, squeezing her eyes shut. Warily, she cracked an eye open. They hadn’t been crushed but had somehow landed in a neat clearing on the mountainside. He set her down and, as soon as her boots hit the rocky floor, she fell onto all fours.
“Was that … an illusion?” she asked weakly.
Asmodeus smirked mischievously and gave her mock innocent eyes. “Oh? Did I forget to mention?”
He burst out laughing. She was about to grumble a retort when she saw stairs carved into the black rock. Atop them was a golden archway.
Unable to believe it, she stepped back and beheld the portal.
The archway was twin to the one in Caspian’s library—transparent film lined in flame, surrounded by artfully warped gold. A rough-hewn blue gem sat above the portal.
“What does it say?” she said, gesturing to a gold plaque erected beside the archway.
The demon glanced at her. “It’s written in Godstongue. It says: ‘The gates to the mortal realm. Do not cross without a guide if you do not want to suffer a most painful death.’”
Curious, she peered at the curling script with accents above letters.
“And that is enough to deter them?”
“Usually.” Asmodeus said.
The sky had lightened from blood red to orange. The air was still warm against her face but more pleasant now, almost soothing.
Large chunks of black stone littered the ground by the portal.
She picked up a rock and examined it. It was impossibly shiny, as if expertly polished by nature itself.
Obsidian.
After brief hesitation, she crammed as many chunks as possible into her pockets. Holding an enormous chunk of the shiny black rock in her hands, she nodded to Asmodeus.
“Ready.”
He looked at the rocks with a bewildered expression. “Do I even want to know?”
She grinned. “Probably not.”
After a moment, Asmodeus offered her his hand and gave her a look of warning. “Follow me into the portal. Step only where I step, and do not let go. The other side is rigged with traps.”
She glanced back at the castle with jagged spires, barely visible in the distance. She trusted Caspian, and he’d almost killed her. She trusted Asmodeus, and he’d almost let her die.
The thought settled in her chest like lead. She’d risked everything to save him, fighting demons and dragons and bargaining with Lucifer himself. And for what? A creature who didn’t even recognize her as she bled for him.
But he had been drugged. Poisoned. Half-starved. That wasn’t really him—was it?
Maybe the blood-filled pleasure hall, and him feeding off her, lost in blood lust, was his true nature. Maybe the tender moments they’d shared were the aberration, not this.
Asmodeus moved to stand in front of the portal and raised his brows, waiting for her. His gaze flicked to her throat, and unease coiled in her gut.
He offered her his hand, and wishing to be rid of this place, she took it and stepped after him into the translucent barrier of the portal.