Chapter 59
Out of the Pan and into the Fire
Once she passed through the portal, she felt a strange jerking sensation in her stomach, and the world twisted disorientingly around her.
She blinked, and as her stomach settled, she noted they were once again standing in the familiar portal room of the castle. However, as soon as they arrived, the room grew dark, and they were rushed by billowing black clouds.
Asmodeus spoke quickly, uttering a string of words in the Godstongue that caused the cloud of darkness to hesitate, and then slowly dissipate.
The room returned to its original appearance, and Asmdoeus explained that the black cloud was poisonous if inhaled.
He pointed at several slots on the walls, she hadn’t noticed before, which had released the noxious fumes.
He explained that if someone entered without knowing the passcode, there were also weapons that would slide out of the slits in the walls to kill any intruders.
Elizabeth took a step forward, and Asmodeus gripped her arm. “Beware of that.” He nodded in the direction of the pentacle on the floor.
Remembering what had happened to the demon—how its life had been sucked out of it, and how it had turned into a waxy corpse before her eyes as it tried to claw its way out of the pentacle—she swallowed. “What exactly happens if someone steps on it?”
Asmodeus snorted. “Honey, if you like your face the way it is, I suggest you don’t find out.”
She glanced warily at the pentacle on the floor. In the centre of the pentacle was a tiny pile of ash, the only remnant of the demons that had entered the portal without leave.
Asmodeus explained how to close the door with the metal seal, then he vanished back through the archway.
Elizabeth pressed the seal into the wall, turned it, and the bookshelf slid back into place.
The library looked exactly as it had before they’d left.
Elizabeth inhaled deeply and could have cried. The air had never smelled so good, nor so clean.
She looked out the window—the sky was dark, the moon a silver crescent in the sky. Opening the window wide, she inhaled deeply, the cool night air welcome after breathing in air that smelled strongly of sulfur and ash.
Closing the window, she caught sight of her reflection in the glass. She was sweaty, flushed, and her skin was tarnished by the soot that had been thick in the air.
She stepped out of the library, relishing the feeling of her boots against solid and familiar ground. The sound of her footsteps echoed through the dark marble halls.
Elizabeth began trudging to her chambers when something struck her as odd.
Usually, a few strangely-shaped creatures were milling about the halls, but it was quiet.
The halls were silent—eerily so.
Where were all the servants?
She continued, but she couldn’t shake a strange feeling of apprehension. The hair stood on the back of her neck, and she tensed, as if waiting for something to leap out at her from the shadows.
Clearing her throat, she hurried up the stairs.
A creak sounded from somewhere downstairs—like the groaning of wood—and she stopped cold.
Her heart pounded in her chest, and she crept to the side of the staircase, peering down below.
There was nothing there.
She strained her ears but couldn’t hear anything else.
It was probably nothing, she reasoned. Probably the servants are moving around downstairs. She was just being paranoid.
“Lady Elizabeth?” A trembling voice called.
Fiza.
“Fiza!” she called back. “Are you alright?”
“Thank Lucifer you’re here,” Fiza called, her words a broken plea. “Please help us!”
Heart lodged in her throat, she set the chunks of obsidian down on a windowsill in the hall, vowing to return for them later. Hands empty, and pockets lighter, she edged towards the staircase.
Elizabeth looked warily down the stairs, but there was nothing out of the ordinary—the landing below was empty, and she couldn’t see anything at the bottom of the stairwell.
“P-please.” Fiza’s voice broke.
Needing no further urging, Elizabeth burst into action, sprinting down the stairs and nearly throwing herself over the bannisters as she rounded the corners. She ran through the halls, heading towards the sound of Fiza’s voice.
“Lady! I fear we don’t have much time.” A long pause. “They’re coming.”
Elizabeth ran faster.
She arrived in the great hall, skidding in her haste.
Fiza stood in the centre of the hall.
“Fiza? What’s going on?”
Elizabeth took stock of her maid, searching her for injury.
“There you are,” she heard a dark, cold, feminine voice say before everything went black.
***
Cold water splashed her face, jolting her awake.
She was in Caspian’s dining room tied to a chair.
Maud held the bucket, leering at her, and Fiza paced behind her. They had cast off their human forms and looked monstrous, with gills and slimy blue-gray skin. Their demon forms had webbed fingers and black, bottomless eyes.
Maud leered at her, baring teeth.
Maud and Fiza.
What sort of joke was this?
“Fiza, please tell me what’s going on.”
Fiza smiled, her lips peeled back to reveal razor-sharp teeth. “It’s been awful playing the part of your maid. I hated every minute of servitude,” Fiza confessed. “We bow to no mortal. Being servants here was … degrading to the extreme … but not without its uses.”
Elizabeth jerked on her bonds, her heart hammering against her ribs. Fiza wouldn’t be telling her this if she thought there was any chance of her getting away.
“Fiza…” she pleaded. “Fiza, we were friends…”
“Were we?” Fiza scoffed. “I am a mid-level demon of the Leviathan house. Mortals are nothing to us. You thought so highly of yourself, coming from a noble house, when truthfully, your kind are below us. Should bow to us.” Fiza sounded mad.
“But you? Not Finnigan?”
This had to be some foul joke.
“Finnigan? That undemonic do-gooder? If it weren’t for him being hopelessly smitten with my sister, he would have told Betsael of his suspicions long ago. He long suspected where our true loyalties were.”
Elizabeth’s tone was pleading. “I don’t understand.”
“He’s been trying to convince us to stop, to abandon the vision we have for what is best for our race.”
“But I saw him! I saw him plotting in the garden. Talking about some foul plan he was trying to hatch.”
“I do not know what you saw, but hate him if you will. I care not.”
Maud prowled closer. “Fizalind, let’s get this over with.”
Fiza held out a hand, silencing her. “Too long. Too long have I waited for this moment. Years and years of playing the nice little maid to gain entry into this house and serving all his stupid whores. Forgive me, sister, if I savour the moment of our triumph.”
“How?” Elizabeth asked. She was desperate to keep her talking. To prolong whatever they had planned for her.
“There was an alliance formed with an angel who is sympathetic to our cause.”
“An angel? But you’re a demon,” she said slowly. “I thought you hated angels. You told me so on our ride that day.”
Fiza laughed coldly. “I don’t trust angels. And neither should you. That much was true.”
“But … you’re in Caspian’s house,” she protested, desperately searching for a way to free herself. She wrenched at her bonds again, but they held firm.
She felt for the well of magic within her, but it was gone. She had exhausted herself from the previous day.
“So, if you’re in Caspian’s house … aren’t you loyal to him?”
“I am a water demon, stupid mortal. Maud and I are here on loan from Leviathan.
We are in his house. He is the demon prince we obey.
Leviathan formed an alliance with Raziel.
Soon, our Master will be the supreme ruler of the Underworld and stand poised to conquer the mortal lands as well.
Water demons have always stood a cut below the rest, but no longer.
Now, the humans will treat us like gods, and we will take over.
“Your seas are full of demons already,” she pointed out. “Sea serpents, banshees, kelpies, mermaids, water imps, sprites. All are preparing to strike.”
“How did they get through the portal?” Elizabeth asked, desperate to keep her talking. Maybe if she played for time, there was a chance Asmodeus would return, or she regained some of her powers so she could break free and run.
“How do you think?” Maud cut in with a hateful smirk. “It took us years to plumb the depths and secrets of this castle. To sneak in our brothers and sisters when the castle was quiet, and the Master was out. One by one. ”
“And now, you. The final piece to the puzzle, and something that will save us an immense amount of time,” sneered Fiza. “You know where the amulet is. We’ve seen it in your thoughts. We know you’ve seen it, touched it.”
She recoiled at the admission. Fiza had been reading her thoughts?
“Someone asked you to tell them about the amulet. He said, ‘Lying to me would be a very bad idea.’ He even insisted that we give you more time to soften and open up. He didn’t want to hurt anyone unless there was no other choice. But you refused to be reasonable.”
“Ambriel?” Elizabeth asked, startled.
“Yes. Ambriel,” Fiza said, slinking closer to her. “Patron angel of the Gemini. Notoriously two-faced. I did warn you.”
Elizabeth’s heart sank. All those walks in the fields and kind words and offers of protection. It had all been a lie. He had just been using her.
She swallowed. That small sliver of distrust she’d felt, out of fear of what he would do when she told him who carried it, had likely saved Charlotte’s life.
If she were still alive, that meant they needed her—and still had no idea where the amulet was. Elizabeth let the knowledge straighten her spine and wore it like armour.
Deciding to play for time, in hopes someone would come save her, she said slowly, “But wait—why do you care about the amulet? I don’t understand that part.”
Fiza scoffed at her ignorance. “You stupid mortal, the amulets are the portals.”
Elizabeth’s mind reeled.