Page 11 of The Malevolent Eight
‘They’ve chosen to call themselves the “ApocalypseEight”,’ Alice said, ignoring the simultaneous glares from Corrigan and Temper. ‘If chaos is their intention, they have chosen a subtle yet effective strategy. Despite whatever injunctions the prophecies surrounding the Great Crusade might place on either side, if the Lords Devilish believe their opponents have already begun to fight in earnest, they may well declare war prematurely.’
You wouldn’t think of supposedly immortal beings as impulsive, but my experiences with the twelve Lords Celestine and, indirectly, the thirteen Lords Devilish through my interactions with a diabolic agent named Tenebris, who used to sell me Infernal spells, had taught me that both pantheons were prone to recklessness. I couldn’t help but recall how quickly the Angelic Valiants atop that gallows had lost their shit when their possessed comrade turned on them.
‘That Glorian Pareval who told you about captured Infernal spies and scouts being dumped on their doorstep,’ I began, turning to Aradeus and Galass. ‘Whichdoorstep did the last ones turn up on?’
‘A secret prison,’ Galass said, frowning. ‘The Pareval wouldn’t—’
‘That’s not possible, I interrupted. ‘The Auroral Edicts prohibit confinement as a punishment because the mortal realm is inherently corrupting to the spirit. When I was a Justiciar, if the verdict we rendered wasn’t execution or exile, the offender’s community was expected to enact retributions that nonetheless reintegrated them into society.’
‘That’s one of the things that had the Pareval so wound up,’ Galass continued, starting to pace the attic. ‘No one outside the upper echelons of the Auroral Hierarchy is even supposed to know this one’s been built, so how would this coven know to leave the captured spies there?’
A secret Auroral prison. . .A strange anxiety was creeping through me. It wasn’t just the abrogation of the supposedly unyielding legal principles I’d had drummed into me as a Justiciar, but thatsomethingwas itching at the back of my skull, something I couldn’t yet put my finger on.
‘I don’t suppose either of you know the location?’ I asked.
‘Alas, no,’ Aradeus replied, then sparked one of his mischievous swashbuckler smiles. Reaching into the pocket of his long grey coat, he took out a sleepy-eyed rat. ‘However, mine is an innately collaborative form of magic, which can enable my noble little comrades to commune through the Totemic plane. Tell me, Brother Cade, have you ever heard of a prison without rats?’
Chapter 7
Nice Wars
‘Have I mentioned how stupid this idea is?’ Corrigan asked. His arms outstretched, he sent gouts of black and red Tempestoral fire erupting from the centre of his chest to assail the twelve-foot-thick outer walls of the small prison that had been constructed in a forest less than ten miles from a city which had recently signed a pact with the Infernals. No doubt this added to the frustration of the three diabolic spies being interrogated under torture so close to where their comrades were enjoying the manifold pleasures of high society.
Who knew the Aurorals could be such cheeky bastards?
Aradeus’ mystical web of rat scouts had eventually found the hidden enclave for us, although it had taken several days, because their beady little eyes had not at first recognised the pristine twelve-sided building as a prison. It was only when they’d conveyed their amusing anecdote about a delightfulsecretpalacehidden away from ordinary humans that we’d saddled up our horses and ridden for two weeks to get here.
The pace had been gruelling, but Galass, ever more determined to find ways to use her blood magic that didn’t involve killing people, had helped. With guidance from Shame and, surprisingly, Alice, she’d designed a sanguinal spell that reinvigorated our mounts, enabling them to gallop faster and longer than ever before.
Alas, she hadn’t yet come up with a spell to improve Corrigan’s mood.
‘Fucking waste of my talents,’ he complained. The rippling flow of Tempestoral lava sizzled as it struck the walls, slowly spreading across the surfaces, fissuring the stone and crumbling the mortar at a pace that did nothing to shorten his list of grievances. His hair and beard were already drenched in sweat: burning through Auroral-blessed stone is nobody’s idea of a good time.
We could hear the prison guards massing on the other side of the walls, preparing to rush through the gates. Not that they needed to bother, since we were making them a much larger opening.
‘We had a perfectly sensible strategy,’ Corrigan grumbled as huge chunks of once-flawless stone crumbled away. ‘We go into an Infernal-aligned town, kick the shit out of their troops, deliver a speech to the townsfolk about the perils of selling out their children’s children’s children’s future to a bunch of warmongering immortal fuck-sticks, then find supper and a nice brothel.’
‘It was a good plan,’ I agreed.
Corrigan wasn’t finished. ‘Then the next week, we pick an Auroral town and kicktheirarses. Spread the love, as it were. Peace in our time.’
‘Forgive my confusion, Brother Corrigan,’ said Aradeus, drawing his rapier and, passing a fingertip along the edge, imbuing the blade with an evasion spell that would make it near-impossible to parry. ‘Are we not about to, as you so eruditely phrased it, “spread the love” to an entire troop of Auroral soldiers?’
‘It’snotthe same thing,’ Corrigan replied crossly. The muscles in his arms and jaw clenched tighter as he struggled to bring forth more of the lava-like destructive energies from the Tempestoral realm. ‘Instead of bedding down in a nice inn after blowing shit up, we’re bustingintoa prison in the middle of fuckingnowhere– so no beds, no brothels, and Istillwon’t get to deliver a proper speech.’
‘We’re here for information on that other coven, remember?’ I reminded him, then poked the knife in a little deeper. ‘Are you saying you’re content to let a bunch of second-rate wonderists run around pretending to be heroes and calling themselves the Apocal—’
‘Don’t say it,’ he warned. ‘Don’t you fucking say it.’
Galass had doubts about my plan too, for entirely different reasons. ‘Why are you so confident the Infernal spies will reveal anything? Or that they’re even still alive?’ she asked. ‘The Glorians don’t take prisoners of war, which means the interrogators have either killed their Infernal captives or haven’t been able to break them yet. So what makes you thinkwecan make them talk?’
The dramatic, thunderous collapse of the fortress walls saved me; giving up any pretence at structural integrity, they crumbled beneath their own weight, unleashing choking clouds of dust. Alice darted in front of me, whispering an incantation under her breath while spinning her whip-sword in an impressive spiral swing. The whirling blades conjured a tornado-like gust that sent the dust cloud pouring away from us and into the faces of the Auroral soldiers rushing to defend their enclave.
‘Nice trick,’ I complimented her. ‘When did you figure that one out?’
‘I’ve been crafting a spell to drive away Corrigan’s breath when he gets drunk at night and starts reciting his growing litany of complaints about the lack of restaurants, brothels and other facilities.’
‘Clever. I’m impressed wi—’
