Attempt 13

"Hey. Psst!"

The demon standing at my door is one of the less grotesque ones. He looks mostly human except for the four small horns curling along his head and his pale blue skin. It was strange at first to see so many demons going about their regular business. They do things just as people do, complain about their bosses, talk about what to eat for dinner, plan parties. I have to say, the humanization of demons has been the biggest blow to me while in Under, but they're still demons, and therefore my enemies.

Besides, it's not like they ever really die. They just get returned to the River Styx and wait to be given another body.

Which sounds as insane as it is. Finding that out had been a weird day.

Today, the demon who guards my door is new and, I think, younger. He looks freshly returned, his eyes bright and round, full of excitement. I think when they're returned, they forget all about the bad shit that happened previously. This guy could be one of the ones I've stabbed before. Regardless, I need his help now.

He ignores my first attempts to gain his attention, keeping his eyes on the wall in front of him.

"Demon. Hey. I'm talking to you," I try again, leaning out the metal grate. Today, the lock is easy, but I've learned it's not the lock that makes escaping difficult. It's everything after. If I even make it as far as escaping from my room, I then have to face guards, Hades, and every other person in the city who notices me. Apparently, I've become famous, which means everyone knows who I am now whether I like it or not, much to Hades' amusement. The asshole is enjoying this far too much.

"I'm not supposed to talk to you," the guard says, glancing at me before quickly glancing away. As if I'm Medusa or something.

"Says who?" I ask, studying him. "Talking never hurt anyone."

"Says Hades," he replies. "I just got this body back. I'm not in a rush to destroy it again."

Ah. So I was right then. He's as fresh as a spring lily.

"What happened last time?" I ask curiously. I've tried brute force. I've tried being sneaky. It's time to enlist some help in my escape. And to do that, I'm gonna have to befriend this demon, even if his smell of sulfur makes me wrinkle my nose.

He looks at me again, this time not looking away. "I don't really know. They don't tell us that."

I press my forehead against the bars, the appearance of innocence. "What does that feel like? Dying and coming back?"

He shrugs. "It's not like dying in your sense. It's just. . . it's like being dropped in a pool of oil and then being dragged back out again. You never really know how long you were in the oil, just that you were."

"So, it doesn't hurt?" I ask curiously. I'd be lying if I said I don't find the concept interesting. Until now, demons have only been these evil things haunting my world. Now, they have names and faces, personalities. I'm not sure I like the change in perception.

"The dying part can," he answers. "Depending on how you die."

"Sounds. . . not pleasant," I admit. "I'm not sure I'd like that."

"It's not so bad really," he shrugs. "At least I get to come back. When you die, it's final."

"You're not wrong," I muse, studying him. "I'm Jill by the way, but I'm sure you already know that."

He hesitates, his eyes tracing over my face. "My name's Zephyr. But sometimes, my friends call me Zeph."

I smile. "Zeph, it is then. Are you going to be my guard every day?"

Demons, though they're humanoid, don't always look purely human. Zephyr is like that. His skin is light blue and four small goat horns sprout from his head, but it's his eyes that unnerve me. They look just like mine, only the prettiest blue I've ever seen. Intelligence flickers there as he takes me in, as his eyes trace over me and then the prison cell I stand in.

"Maybe," he finally answers. "If I sign up for it."

I nod. "I look forward to speaking to you again, Zeph."

And then I leave him be, sewing the seed of doubt, and hoping that he'll sign up to guard me again. Something in my chest flickers, guilt maybe, but I shove it down. I have to get out. I can't stay here.

* * *

The next day, I'm pleasantly surprised to wake and find Zeph guarding my door again. He stands with his back to me, his eyes steadfast on the wall as I begin to stretch and move.

"You came back," I say, smiling at him as he turns to look over his shoulder again.

He shrugs, as if it's not a big deal. "The signup sheet was empty. This is way better than cleaning up the mess hall."

"So guarding me is a chore?" I laugh and shake my head. "Leave it to Hades to make it feel like I'm a child in need of babysitting."

"I don't think you're a child," Zeph says, glancing at me and then away. "Though your attempts at escape could be considered immature."

I scowl. "It's immature to want to escape my prison now?"

"From what I understand, you made a choice, Jill." He doesn't look at me, refusing. "We all live with our choices."

His words are heavy, as if some memory plagues him deeply.

"I thought demons don't remember their lives prior to being brought back?" I ask slowly, watching him.

"They don't," he replies, but his words are carefully said, as if he's not being entirely honest with me. How strange. Why choose a well-known topic to lie about? Unless I'm wrong and they remember.

"Then how can you live with your choices if you don't remember them?" I ask, coming over to stand at the iron door. He doesn't answer, his eyes steadfast on the wall. "Zeph?"

"We shouldn't be doing this," he says suddenly. "I shouldn't be talking to you. I'm going to get in trouble."

I hesitate, looking between him and down the hall. "If no one sees, it should be fine."

He shakes his head. "I only just got out of the river. I don't want to go back. The oil is. . . it's not a pleasant feeling."

I study him, the way he carries himself with dignity, the way he genuinely seems afraid of the river, the way he refuses to look at me, and guilt eats at me once more.

I step back from the door. "I'll leave you alone. Sorry."

We don't talk the rest of the day. He stands guard outside my door. I sit in my prison and attempt to read one of the books from the shelf. Eventually, that grows boring, and I end up sitting at the desk in the room. I start by writing a letter to Jack, knowing he'll never read it, but it makes me feel better anyway.

When the guards switch, Zeph doesn't spare me a single look. He isn't there the next day either.

I assume the mess hall seemed like a better option, after all.

* * *

A week later, Zeph's familiar face appears outside my door. Our eyes meet briefly before he looks away and takes his position, staring at the wall across from my prison as if it's the most interesting thing he's ever seen. It pains me to admit it, but I kind of missed him. So far, he's been the only demon kind enough to talk back. The rest ignore me or snarl at me. Zeph is different. He's nothing like the demons I'd encountered back in the enchanted forest.

"You came back," I murmur, watching him carefully.

He doesn't reply for a few seconds, and I start to think he's not going to until he sighs. "They needed sign-ups and I'm tired of cleaning the throne room."

"There's a throne room?" I laugh. "What am I saying? Of course, there is. It's Hades."

Zeph chuckles, but he seems to realize what he's doing and clamps his lips shut. "Yes. It's not surprising."

We fall into silence, but this time, it's a comfortable one. Something in my chest regrets trying to befriend Zeph, but I need his help, and this is the best way I could think of to get out of here.

"I'm glad you came back," I admit softly.

Zeph looks at me sharply. "Why?"

I shrug, not wanting to bring too much attention to it. "The other guards ignore me." But when I think better of it, I add, "It's a little. . . lonely. . . if I'm being honest."

I don't know how long I've been in Under at this point. I'd overheard one demon mention that time moves different in Under than it does back in the Enchanted Forest, so I don't know if the few months I've been here is still only a few months back home. All I know is that I need to get back. I know Jack is probably looking for me, trying to find a way to reach Under and get me out. I can't stay here.

And unfortunately for Zeph, he seems the best option to get out of Under.

He stares at me now, studying my face, before turning back to face the wall. "Loneliness, I understand." He sighs. "Tell me about the Enchanted Forest. I heard it's beautiful."

I grin. "It is. You haven't been?"

He shakes his head. "I think. . . I was in the river during your rise to infamy, demon killer."

My lips peel back in a wince. "None of them were like you, or I might have felt bad. They murdered and destroyed and. . . someone had to stop it."

Zeph glances at me again, those blue eyes echoing with curiosity. "What do you mean they weren't like me?"

"You know. . ." I wave my hands around. "More human."

His eyes harden. "I'm not human, Jill. You'd do well to remember that."

"It's hard to forget. What with the horns and all." I sigh. "Never mind. I don't know how to explain it."

Zeph's eyes soften. "I think I know what you mean." He turns back to the wall. "It's kind of like how you're a little bit demon."

My stomach drops. "What?"

But someone comes walking down the hallway and up to Zeph and I have to back off, so he doesn't get in trouble. After a moment, Zeph nods and switches with the other demon. He glances at me briefly before disappearing, leaving the other demon to guard me instead.

I sigh and glance at the newcomer, this one more demonic looking. "You have a name?"

"Yeah," he grumbles. "It's Shut Up."

Rolling my eyes, I retreat back into my prison. I sit down at the desk again, but this time, I don't feel like writing a letter to Jack. This time, I start to draw.

* * *

"I drew you something," I announce the moment Zeph appears and we're alone.

His eyes widen in surprise. "You drew me. . . something?"

I nod. "A picture." Rushing over to the desk, I flip through the papers and pull out my drawing. "I'm no artist, but you wanted to know what the enchanted forest was like, so I tried to draw it for you."

I pass the drawing through the bars, and he stares at the parchment in my hand for a moment before reaching out to take it. He flips it over and takes in the roughly drawn forest. I'd tried my best to get the sparkle of the trees down, but it just ended up looking like the trees were sick or something. His lips tug up when he sees it, amused.

"Don't laugh," I chastise, smiling. "I tried my best."

"No, you did good," he chuckles, before pointing to one of the trees. "Are they all lopsided or is that just you?"

My eyes narrow. "No, they're not all lopsided."

"Oh," he replies, smothering his laughter. "Yes. I can see how beautiful the Enchanted Forest probably is." He hands it back to me. "Can you draw me standing in it?"

My eyes widen. "I'm. . . not sure. I can try."

I take it back and move over to the desk. I pick up the quill and glance back at Zeph.

"Need me to pose?" he asks, striking a valiant pose in the doorway.

I snort. "Yes. Just like that." I drag the quill across the paper, trying my best to capture his silliness and his horns. In the end, it's not perfect, but if I squint my eyes, it does kind of look like him a little. I pass it back through the grate. "What do you think?"

"It's perfect," he muses, smiling brightly. "I can keep this?"

"Sure," I shrug.

He carefully folds it and slides it into his breast pocket. "I thank you for your gift, demon killer."

His name for me is like a bucket of ice water dumped on top of me, a reminder of what it is I'm supposed to be doing. Zeph isn't supposed to be my friend. He's my ticket out of here.

"Don't mention it," I rasp. "Seriously, don't. Pretty sure you'd get in trouble."

He nods. "You're not wrong." He pats his pocket. "I'll keep it safe, and perhaps, one day, you can show me around the Enchanted Forest yourself."

A lump forms in my throat. "Maybe," I murmur, looking away. I can't meet his eyes again. "Anyway, I'm glad you're back. Thank you for talking to me."

He nods, and we fall back into our normal silence. Guilt starts to eat me alive.

* * *

I don't know how many days Zeph has been my guard. I've lost count. But every time he comes now, we talk. Sometimes, he tells me about his day, about the friends he might have made or the terrible food the mess hall had because the cook tried something new. Sometimes, I tell him about the terrible book I tried to read that day. Hades never brings me anything new, but sometimes, the paper is restocked by some sort of magic.

When Zeph appears with a book in his hand, I tilt my head. "What's that?"

"I asked a friend for a book recommendation. She said this was a good read, so I figured I'd bring it for you." He passes the book through the bars and holds it out to me.

I stare at the book, at the way his hand remains steady as he waits for me to take it. "Why would you bring me a book?"

"You said the books in there are terrible," he shrugs. "So, I brought one that isn't so terrible."

I hesitate but eventually reach out and take it carefully from him. "I. . . thank you, Zeph."

"Don't mention it," he says, grinning. "Seriously, don't."

I can't help but laugh and tuck the book up under my arm. "Yeah, yeah. Oh, did you ever figure out who took your cake the other day?"

His face changes to annoyance. "No, but I'll find the culprit eventually. No one steals my cake and gets away with it." He makes a pretend angry face. "No one."

* * *

When Zeph comes back again, I hold the book out to him. "Your friend was right. It was much better."

"You already read it?" he asks, blinking at me in surprise.

"Nothing else to do," I shrug. "I literally never leave this room, remember?"

His face falls for a second. "Right. Sorry." He takes the book from me. "I can bring you more books."

"I'd like that," I say, sighing. "I think I'm slowly dying in here."

He looks at me sharply. "If you're dying, I'm sure Hades can?—"

"It was a figure of speech," I interrupt. "I don't mean I'm actually dying. Not in the normal sense."

"Oh."

"I just mean. . . I don't know what I mean," I sigh. "This is torture. Hades drags me here and then leaves me to rot. He claims he wants me to love him, and yet never comes around. It's no wonder he can't find a woman if this is how he thinks to win her over," I say, shaking my head.

Zeph winces. "I can't argue with that."

I take a seat against the bars, my back to Zeph as I tilt my head back and close my eyes. "I don't belong here, Zeph," I whisper. "This isn't my world."

He remains silent, the air heavy with tension. "I'd like to think most beings aren't meant for cages."

"And yet here I am, caged," I rasp, dropping my head into my knees. "This must be punishment. I must have been a terrible person before."

"You're not terrible," he argues.

I laugh without humor. "I killed countless numbers of your people, Zeph. I don't think that makes me a good person."

"You were protecting your world. I don't blame you for that," he says.

My hands start to shake. "You should. You shouldn't even be nice to me. I don't deserve it."

He falls silent again, thinking. "Perhaps. . . I could talk to Hades."

"Don't," I say roughly. "Don't put yourself at risk like that."

More silence. "I don't know how to help, Jill."

"Short of getting me out of here, you can't," I say, shaking my head. "And we both know that's not possible."

A heavy pause. "Why isn't it?"

* * *

I should be excited. My plan worked. I'd played the long game and befriended a demon. I convinced him to help me escape.

So why do I feel so terrible about it?

"I can't let you do this," I tell him the next day as he appears. "It's not a good idea."

"Says the woman who's tried to escape twelve times already," he says with a grin. "I know the risks, Jill. It's fine."

Part of me wants to let him. What if he gets me out? What if we make it? But another part of me doesn't want to risk him. Yes, he won't exactly die but there's no telling how long he'll be in the river if he returns. I should be letting him figure this plan out. Instead, my guilt makes me want to convince him not to even try.

"He won't kill me," I reason. "But he'll kill you."

"I can't really die," he shrugs.

"Yes, but you can return, and you don't like the oil," I point out.

He pauses, his eyes meeting mine. "Some people are worth risking the oil."

"I'm not one of them," I argue. "We both know that."

"I don't know that at all," he says. "I've figured it out. At Low Time, I'll get you out and we'll keep to the side streets. The portals are across the city, but we can make it."

I stare at him, at the eagerness he displays, and shake my head. "If you get me out of here, he'll kill you once he finds out." He shrugs again. "Zeph, I'm not kidding. You won't be able to stay here if you do this."

He meets my eyes. "Then I guess I'll just have to come with you."

I freeze. "What?"

"You promised to show me around the Enchanted Forest."

"Yes, but?—"

"The plan will work, Jill," he says, stopping my excuses. "Let me help you."

I swallow thickly. "Why?"

He takes my hand through the bars. "Because you're my friend."

My guilt roars to life with a vengeance. There's no convincing him otherwise. No matter my excuses, he refuses to change his plan. So when Low Time comes, I stand and stare at the open doorway, my heart beating wildly in my throat.

"Are you sure about this, Zeph?" I whisper.

"No," he says cheerfully. "Now come on. We don't have much time if we're going to stick to the plan."

I take a hesitant step forward and stop. Zeph rolls his eyes and grabs me by my wrist before dragging me out.

"I thought you were Jill Morris, Terrifying Demon Hunter. Where's all this fear coming from?"

But it's not fear for myself. It's for him. In my quest to befriend him, I'd inadvertently grown attached to him. I hadn't meant to. I'd meant to keep that line drawn between us, but somewhere in the middle of it all, I'd started to think of Zeph as a real friend. And now I fear for him.

"Here. Put this on," he orders, pulling a cloak over my shoulders and pulling the hood up. "Don't look anyone in the eyes."

"Won't this make me stand out?" I ask.

"No. It's the Festival of the Flame and everyone is wearing cloaks right now," he offers as explanation. "Let's go."

He drags me through the hall, pulling me quickly to the exit and the scene of the city before us. We turn right, the opposite direction Hades and I had come from when we arrived, but I trust Zeph to know where we're going. Surprisingly, he's right and everyone seems to be wearing cloaks. I blend in so easily, hope blooms in my chest.

We're gonna make it. We can do this.

We don't speak as he leads me through the city streets and up to the other side. The great carved doorways rise before us and we head for them, excitement in every step.

"Almost there," he whispers, pulling me after him. We pick up speed as we draw closer, knowing we won't have much time once we reach the portal. The alarms will go off shortly after we step into the room.

We round the corner and grind to a stop at the sight before us. The portal swirls against the wall, just as Zeph said it would. In front of the portal, Hades stands with his arms crossed, flames flickering around his feet with his anger.

Fear has me jerking Zeph back, trying to put myself between them.

"I expected this from you, Jill, but from one of my own?" he tsks, the flames dancing blue around him.

"He had nothing to do with it," I say. "It was all me."

Hades looks at me sharply before slowly baring his teeth at me. "My demons are not your playthings."

"I'm sorry. It won't happen again," I say quickly. "Just let him go."

Hades straightens, his eyes flickering with the same flames at his feet. He moves so fast, I can't even shout a warning. His hand is around my throat and Zeph's before I can stop him. I gasp and grab at his hand, trying to pry him loose but he doesn't actually hurt me. Zeph, on the other hand, he lifts into the air.

"No!" I try to shout. "Stop it!" But my voice is cut off by his fingers.

"Do you love him?" Hades snarls at me. "You're here to love me, not some lesser demon!"

His fingers loosen enough for me to speak. "He's just a friend," I rasp. "Only a friend."

He stares into my eyes, studying me, before turning to Zeph. He slowly lowers him to the ground. To my surprise, he releases him. "A friend?"

Zeph flicks his eyes to me and back to Hades, but he doesn't speak, knowing anything he says will be a mistake.

"Just let him go," I say, desperate to keep him safe. "Please. I'll do whatever you ask."

Hades looks at me, sees the emotion in my eyes, and his gaze darkens. "This isn't a negotiation," he snarls. "You'll do what I ask regardless."

Hades lifts his arm, and everything slows, as if someone magically slowed it down.

Zeph meets my eyes, and in them, I see an understanding. He knew this would happen, was prepared for it. "Thank you," he says. "For being my friend, demon killer."

Hades shoves his hand through Zeph's chest, and I scream as flames erupt around him.

"No!" I cry, trying to rush forward, but Hades shoves me back as the flames climb higher and Zeph explodes into a rain of black goop around me. "You fucking asshole! You fucking bastard! How could you?!"

Hades shrugs. "He can no longer be trusted if he can be influenced by you." He scowls down at the goop on his shoes. "Good help is so hard to find these days."

"I hate you!" I spit, jerking away from him when he tries to grab my arm again. "I've never hated someone as much as I hate you!"

"You'll grow to love me," he declares, so sure of himself. "You'll see."

"I will never love you," I snarl. "Not even if we were the last people left in all the worlds."

His eyes darken and he grabs my arm. He proceeds to drag me back to my prison cell and tosses me inside more roughly than he had before. "Try not to get into trouble," he sneers and slams the door closed before storming away. As if it's just another day. As if killing Zeph meant nothing at all.

I collapse on the ground, tears in my eyes, guilt spilling from my throat as I scream and scream and scream my rage. I don't know how to save him, and he won't even remember me if he does come back. That's the first time I destroy my room, shattering everything that can be broken, ripping anything that I can, making a mess of my prison.

But I learn a very important lesson this time.

Don't make friends. . . because they will die.