12. Diana

Diana

I swallowed hard, juicing my tongue for the last bit of saliva as the wagon slowed to a halt. It’d been at least half a day since our passage through customs, and the harsh, desert environment had not been kind. The wood at my butt and back was soaked through with sweat, and I winced with every passing breath.

It wouldn’t be long before there would be no more sweat—we hadn’t had a drop to drink since we’d come off our ship.

The wooden door swung open, revealing one of the King’s Guard. “Out.”

My muscles ached as I pushed myself up, moving to do as he’d asked. I dropped my feet to the sandy ground and met his gaze, putting on the most Queenlike expression I could manage, given the circumstances. “We go no further before you bring us water.” I gestured to Myrr. “She’s an old woman. You can’t expect her to continue like this.”

He sneered. “We’ll let Malach decide whether you’re worth wasting water on, she-wolf.”

Raven was upon him before he could move, fingers digging into the wrist of the other man’s sword-arm. “Water, now.”

The demon moved to strike him, but the largest of our captors stopped him with a hand. “Stand down, Balgor, and go fetch a waterskin. He said to bring them in alive.”

Alive? The word stopped me short. Had there even been a question of whether we’d have been brought in any other way? While I wouldn’t call us friendly, we’d shared an uneasy alliance with the demons in the past as we shared a portion of our borders. What had changed? Surely, Malach knew the political ramifications of murdering a neighboring territory’s queen. Especially when she had clearly come in peace. Killing me here would mean certain war with my people, to say nothing of what Will and Dominic would do if Nicholas and Raven were executed…

The younger demon wrenched free of Raven’s grip, scowling. “Better to pour it into the sand than waste it on these wingless rats.”

“Their fate is for Malach to decide, not you. And my intervention is the only reason you’re still alive to say such things. That vampire is not to be trifled with—he’d kill you before you could draw your weapon.”

Balgor spared a final, angry glance for Raven, then stalked off to do as ordered.

“I apologize for the boy. We’ll get you watered before your audience with our King, I had forgotten how spongy you non-demons are. Gotta get the water on the regular or you just dry up.”

I dipped my head in thanks. Not exactly the red carpet, but it was something. And things would turn around once we got to see Malach. Like most demons, he always looked out for number one, and it was in his best interest now more than ever to be on the good side of the newly formed alliance between werewolves and vampires.

Myrr slid out of the cart, assisted by Nicholas, and glanced at the imposing demon before whispering, “Have him grab us a bite to eat, too, while you’re at it.”

Kevin crept out of the cart last, and his tongue lolled out of his mouth as he pulled in a deep whiff of the desert air. He managed fine in most climates, but this was what he’d really been bred for—this was his homeland. I glanced around, really taking in my new surroundings for the first time. Carrion feeders and hawks flew overhead in the distance, watching the miles of pristine desert for rabbits and snakes, dead or alive, and a few scattered dunes of sand were the only things blocking the view all the way to the horizon.

The true marvel, though, was the giant palace that stood a few hundred yards ahead. We’d always met on neutral ground, and despite having seen pictures of it in books, I was still taken aback by the size. Named The Spire, it was a narrow spike of a structure, hundreds of meters high, like a huge, onyx finger stretching into the sky. And there wasn’t a single plant anywhere near the tower, not even a cactus. The surrounding lands had been blighted by its presence, it was said. Miles of ashy black sand stretched all around it in a uniform circle, growing by a few dozen feet with each passing year.

By the time we were ready to move, the dry itch in the back of my throat was gone. The Spire was a strange mix of modern amenities and fiery, hellish imagery.

As we entered through the tall narrow doors that mimicked The Spire, I took in the paintings covering the walls. As terrifying as they were beautiful, I found myself staring at them, when I knew I should be watching the demon soldiers that patrolled every inch of the building.

“Few have seen what you are about to,” the chief Guard commented, pressing the pendant he wore on his neck against a bare section of the marble wall. A glimpse of it showed the pendant to be an engraved image of flames and a skull with wings stretching out from the sides. Nice.

The wall slid open, revealing an elevator, and the guards hurried us into it. I glanced upward, wondering what floor of the massive tower the King lived on. “Does Malach know we’re here yet?”

“I sent word a short while ago, he’s expecting you.”

The elevator slammed shut behind us, and Theo cleared his throat as he eyed the painting on the wall next to him—a pair of men stretched out on a table as a torturer cut their limbs off. It was only upon staring at it that I realized why it bothered me so. When I blinked, the torturers had moved a little. As if the scene were really happening somewhere.

“I’m starting to miss the lighthouse.”

“I know, and I’m so sorry,” I said.

“I wouldn’t change it. Better to live with all I got for whatever I got left.”

The old man’s words were a small comfort.

Kevin shifted nervously at my side as the floor began to rumble, and, rather than shooting upward, the elevator began to descend. A basement?

Or a dungeon…

“Where are we going?”

“The seventh level,” the demon said simply.

A light flashed ahead, and I staggered back as I realized that the wall on the far side of the elevator was actually a window. Gouts of fire spurted through the air all around, the only source of light in the massive chamber. A dozen times as wide as The Spire, a full-on town came into view.

Screams of agony cut through the air every few seconds, and the hairs on my arm stood on end as I stared at the scene below. Armies of lesser demons labored in groups, tilling fields of strange moss and digging into the walls on all sides. Our elevator hurtled downward, moving far too fast to take it all in, but a smaller, second layer opened right after, only slightly less horrible than the first. And on it went. The buildings grew nicer and more modern in each layer than the last, and the workers gradually disappeared, giving way to slick buildings and houses.

By the time we reached the seventh level, we were in what looked like a demonic version of an idyllic town. A few dozen mansions, complete with fountains of lava, were visible in the light of the massive pillar of flame that stood at the town’s center. Here and there I saw pools of blackness that I couldn’t decide if it was water, or bottomless pits.

Despite having read about this place during my education to become queen, I still found myself shocked at the inequity of it all…

“Who gets to live down this far?” Raven asked, gesturing toward the massive homes.

“First caste only.”

The elevator screeched to a halt, and he sucked in a deep breath as he gestured for us to leave through the door.

He led us down a wide path that was edged with dark blue flowers that seemed to be bleeding out their pollen. At the end of the path was the only castle in the seventh level.

The main doors were wide open, guarded on either side by a pair of winged demons. They didn’t look at us as our guide hurried us through and to another smaller door.

A moment later, we entered a chamber the size of my own Great Hall before coming to a halt. One guard stayed for each of us, while the remainder split off to enter the throne room. Every wall was a full-scale mural. Angels died in droves by the hands of monsters summoned by demon princes, and every brushstroke was perfect in its horrific beauty.

Mav shuddered. “I don’t miss this place one bit.”

The screech of a single horn cut through the silence, beckoning us onward, and my breath caught in my throat as I stepped forward. Luckily, Malach didn’t keep us waiting long; a pair of twin doors behind the throne slid open, revealing the King himself.

His hair was white, streaked with brilliant red as if he’d bathed in blood. I’d have expected him to be tanned from exposure to the sun, but he was pale, as if he hadn’t been aboveground for years.

His eyes were white, but there was a distinct red line around the iris.

Fire and ice.

A chill swept through me despite the heat of the room as I looked up at him. Flames licked at the arms of his jet-black throne, and a statue of an Angel was fixed, upside-down, to the wall just behind him, her radiant crown sitting just above his own.

After another few strides, I had to amend that assessment.

Not a statue.

A corpse .

Aliyah, first queen of the Angels, nailed to the wall like a piece of taxidermy. I shuddered, fixing my gaze on the man beneath her.

“King Malach,” I said, dropping to a knee.

He stared at me for a long while, and his voice wavered slightly as he spoke. “Bring her closer, Algrin.”

A quick jolt of surprise shot through me as the Guard Captain’s hand fell to my shoulder. General Algrin was a famous war hero among demons, and I’d heard many stories of his exploits. But the thought didn’t hold my attention for long as I got a better look at the King I’d come all this way to see.

A king whose help I needed to find the girl.

Malach’s bluish skin had gone almost white, and his skin sagged like a too-large suit. A whisper of a smile passed over his lips as he locked eyes with me.

“What brings you to this place, Wolf?”

The condescension in his voice was thick, and his lack of using my title was a slap to the face.

Raven struggled to my right, trying to move toward me, but he relented as I raised a hand. The time for fighting had passed. Only diplomacy would work now.

“We come as representatives of the Vampire and Werewolf alliance, and we come seeking knowledge, as well as passage through your lands.”

He leaned back in his throne, pressing a bony fist to his cheek as he croaked, “Knowledge of what?”

“Perhaps a more private conversation would be better, I–”

“ Speak. ” The word echoed through the throne room a dozen times before stopping, booming in a way that I’d never have expected from a man who was head of state. Not even in my few dealings with him had he ever been rude.

Something was wrong.

Very wrong.

My fingernails dug into my palm, and I forced a Queenly confidence into my voice as I replied. “We’re searching for a woman who passed through here. She is integral if we ever hope to re-seal the Veil, and we have reason to believe that you’ll be able to help us find her…”

He went silent for a long moment, writhing uncomfortably in his chair. When he finally spoke, his face was lit with rage and his voice had changed. “You would disturb me over fairytales and rumors? Bring me their heads.”

My wolf rushed to the surface, as I reeled at how quickly this had gone downhill, but I tamped my wild side down as I noticed the guard’s unmoving hand on my shoulder. A demon to my right let out a yelp, and I turned to see Raven charging up to stand in front of me.

The rest of the King's Guard moved as if to advance on the vampire, but Algrin held up a hand, stopping them in their tracks.

“Your Highness,” he started, stepping out from behind me. “If it is truly your will, it shall be done, but I wish to remind you that The Oracle is among their party. Not to mention we risk war with two kingdoms if we proceed with this course of action.”

“ Disobedience? From my own general?” Malach stood, trembling with fury as he jabbed his finger directly at the man. “Bring. Me. Their. Heads.”

“I— yes, Sir.”

I eyed the opposition, calculating our odds. A guard for everyone in our party, plus a dozen or so more, every one of them a master warrior. I didn’t like our chances, but it beat going down without a fight. Algrin advanced, shaking his head bitterly as he unsheathed his sword.

Kevin lunged toward him, but the demon that’d been assigned to him pinned him down before he could close the distance.

A wracking cough split the room, bringing the demons to a halt. I glanced back to see Malach’s pain-wracked gaze as he dug his fingers into his temples. His words were labored and slow, but his voice had lost the chilly bite it’d had since we’d entered the room.

“Get them out of here, Algrin. Hurry! ”

Algrin nodded, thrusting his sword back into its sheath as he hurried toward me, grabbing me under the arm. “We need to go, now.”

I stumbled along with him, completely bewildered as I gestured for Raven to follow. Malach broke into another fit of coughs, followed by an enraged, shrill scream. I spared a final glance for him as we left the room as he punched himself in the side of the head with a closed fist.

“Out, damn you, out of my head! OOOOOUT YOU BITCH!”

I skidded to a stop as the truth hit me–I was not the bitch he was trying to command.

Lilis had managed to possess the Demon King himself. We were only being released because she couldn’t maintain control long enough to have us killed. I turned to Raven, seeing that he’d come to the same realization I had.

As much as we needed to go, a part of me wanted to wolf out and leap on Malach to tear his–or her–heart out. But he was nothing more than a puppet. Her messenger. He was no more responsible for his actions than the Vanators had been.

I forced the bloodlust down and let Raven and Algrin drag me along. The trip to the surface passed in the blink of an eye, and my heart was thumping just as fast by the end of our trip as it had been when we’d started running.

The Spire’s front door swung open, and I was surprised to see the demons slow to a halt as I dashed toward the black sand outside. “Are you coming?”

Algrin shook his head, a stony look of pure determination on his face. “Our King needs us now more than ever. If he changes his mind again, he might send warriors after you. We need to be here to stop him from. We can’t have him plunging our people into a war we cannot win.”

“You could be killed,” Nicholas said.

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take.” His gaze shifted to me. “I had no idea he was that far gone. We were stationed at the harbor for the last week, his condition worsened in the short time we were away from his side.”

I stepped out onto the sandy ground, feeling a strange sympathy for the Demon General, despite the fact he’d been ready to gut me just a few minutes earlier. “It’s not just a condition; he’s being controlled by an evil force. The goddess Lilis.”

He blanched and then nodded. “That helps. I will try to find a way to keep him deeply sedated and go speak to our Void Bishop. We might be able to protect him now that we know what ails him.” He lifted a hand. “Good luck.”

Myrr, Nicholas, and the others joined us outside, and he let the door close behind them.

I groaned as I stared out at the endless sea of sand, a dry breeze catching my lip. “We move west back toward the ship,” I announced, using the position of the rising sun as a makeshift compass. Despite knowing that Jade was somewhere out here, we had no way to pinpoint her. “We have no supplies and need to head toward home to regroup.”

And so, we walked, mile upon mile. Black sand gave way to white, and the sun reached its zenith, but there wasn’t a drop of water to be found. Nicholas and Raven began to slow, their sun protection daggers being stretched to the limit, and Mav and I had to take turns carrying Myrr after only a few miles of travel.

I stared upward, eyeing the peak of the dune that was only a few yards away, repositioning Myrr on my shoulders. I stopped to breathe, then forced out the final few steps. An ember of hope burned hot within me as I reached the top but was quickly smothered. The whipping sand made it hard to tell, but there wasn’t a town or water source in sight. I dropped to the ground, setting Myrr down beside me as gently as I could manage.

How far inland had we come in the wagons? Easily eight or nine hours, being pulled at a steady pace. On foot, it could take a day or more.

I glanced at the others, shame washing over me in waves. Willingly or not, I had led them to this. Even poor, old Theo. Their blood would be on my hands when we all died out here. Kevin lapped at my hand, looking curious. His tongue still had the last remnants of moisture on it, as he was only just beginning to feel the effects of the desert.

“You might make it if you go alone, let Kevin carry you,” Raven rasped as he settled beside me. He pulled his hood up further, turning his head away from the sun. “Leave us.”

I was about to waste the last of my energy on slapping him when I turned and saw his face. Blisters had begun to form on his cheeks and lips, and his skin was red and raw. I felt for my wolf, reaching with everything I had.

If I can just shift, maybe I can run ahead and find some water.

My wolf was there, but out of reach. I’d need far more strength if I wanted to pull something like that off. Raven eyed Mav, fangs protruding ever so slightly, then exhaled sharply, glancing back into the distance.

How much further could we even make it? I pulled up an arm to shield my eyes as a particularly strong wind gusted through. “Sandstorm?”

“ In fifty yards you will find your salvation. ”

“D-did you hear that?” I stumbled awkwardly to my feet, gritting my teeth as I threw Myrr over my shoulder.

Mav hobbled to my side. “Hear what?”

Probably just the first hallucination of the many to come. But, if there was even the tiniest chance that I was wrong, I had to keep moving. Xefia’s smiling face appeared in my mind, and I forced myself onward. I was going to make Lilis pay for what she’d done. And I couldn’t do that if I died here. Raven and Nicholas swayed, and staggered just behind us, half-walking and half-sliding down the dune. Theo had yet to rise.

“One more try,” I called. “Come on, Theo, you can do it.”

He grunted, pinching his cheeks. He let out a moan as he pushed himself to his feet before wobbling violently, almost flying face-first down the dune. Then, he caught himself and straightened. “One more try. I can do one more try.”

Each step was agony, and every muscle in my body screamed for me to lay down and let death take me rather than take part in this useless struggle. My father, Lycan, wouldn’t have given up. And it would’ve caused him so much pain to see me give up at a time like this. I slipped, nearly falling, and ended up sliding the last dozen feet down the dune.

The wind was moving even faster down here, bordering on a true sandstorm. How much further could fifty yards be? I sucked in a ragged breath, unsure how many more steps I had in me. Ten? Fifteen?

I took another step forward, worried that I’d stop moving entirely if I didn’t, and nearly walked face-first into a piece of orange cloth. I pulled back, dumfounded, then stepped a few feet to the side.

Not just an orange cloth.

A tent.

It had blended in with the sand, impossible to see in the wind. And, hidden behind it, there was a pool of water, surrounded by a cluster of shrubs and small trees. I croaked out a laugh, reaching for the cloth. This was one cruel hallucination.

My heart skipped a beat as my hand brushed against it, and I staggered forward the last few steps, eyes fixed on the pool of water.

A tall man with long, white hair and striking, golden eyes stepped out of the tent, right into my field of view.

“Welcome, Wolf Queen.”

Then everything went black.