It wasn’t a great dismount. She maneuvered so she was hanging from her fingertips from the ledge and then just dropped, bending deep into her knees to absorb the impact. It would have been graceful if not for the headache, which made it feel like she’d been cracked in the skull with a baseball bat as she hit the ground.
Groaning at the pain, she slid to the floor with her back wedged into the corner. Fuck, she was tired. She needed to regain some strength so she could climb and keep working the bars loose, so maybe sleep was her best option anyway.
If she were Suyin, she would probably already have pulled some ancient sigil from memory that would open locked doors and loosen mortar. But Iris didn’t know any sigils for that, and her memory wasn’t working well at the moment anyway.
“I’m so fucked—No.We’re not talking like that, remember? I’m not fucked. I’m gonna find Meph, and we’re going to escape together. He’ll fly me away to safety.”
He hadn’t had wings before, but she knew Ash and Mist could disappear their wings when they wanted. She figured Meph could do the same.
For some reason, the thought of Monster Meph flying struck her as hilarious, and she snorted. It turned into a chuckle. And then she started giggling. There were some tears involved too, and that was how she knew she’d really lost it.
When she felt sleep approaching, she welcomed it.
The Necromancer materialized in the center of the hellgate in Valefor’s study, his lip curling.
He despised coming here. He hated Valefor enough that, if he hadn’t needed him to get what he wanted, he’d have launched a full-scale attack on his territory just to make his life miserable.
Worse, Murmur had helped Valefor get his ultimate weapon back, and the Duke of Hell was no longer as vulnerable as he’d been the last few hundred years. It was only a matter of time before Valefor used that weapon to start taking new territories, amassing power he believed he was owed.
Murmur hadn’t actually wanted to help Valefor, but he’d needed his book, and he’d needed someone to retrieve the book that was strong enough to get the job done and smart enough not to try to fuck him over.
He may have hated Valefor, but he respected his cunning. Only a fool underestimated his enemies.
Sure enough, when Murmur stepped out of the hellgate, he saw his prize waiting for him on Valefor’s desk, just as he had been promised.
“You’re late, Necromancer,” Valefor said from a seat behind the desk.
It was a power position—a big window overlooked his territory behind him, the red sky highlighting his formidable demon form, his horns and muzzle cutting an impressive outline. A few servants puttered about the room, ready to fawn over their master at his command.
Murmur feigned boredom, resting a hand on the sword hilt at his hip. “You didn’t read it?”
“I kept my end of the bargain.”
He drummed his claws against the leather-wrapped handle. “I’ll know if you read it.”
“I made a vow, as did you. I got what I wanted. Why should I care about your silly witch book?”
Murmur smiled thinly. “Why, indeed.”
“Though I will say, you’ve sparked my curiosity.”
“A necromancer never shares his secrets.”
The two Dukes of Hell stared at each other in distrustful silence.
“And the witch?” Murmur asked.
“She wasn’t there, and she never saw my face. It was another who let me past the coven’s wards. She was weak. I could have killed her with a flick of my hand if I’d been in the mood.”
“Very good.” Murmur allowed his lips to curve briefly before neutralizing the expression. “And where is Mephistopheles?” He’d heard tales of the creature but had never witnessed him in person, and he had to admit he was intrigued.
The morbidly curious part of him wished to withstand the demon’s torture and see how he fared. One who specialized in death was not one who feared it, and he wanted to see what other aversions the creature could pull out of him. It bothered him that he didn’t know.
One could not face his fears if one had not first identified them.
“That’s not for you to know,” Valefor replied evenly.
No surprises there. The souls Murmur had enslaved swirled about his feet, and he longed to unleash them to creep through the castle and find what he sought, but he held them back.
