Page 140 of Cathmoir's Sons

“I like both of those,” the demon responds. “Hells, I might send all my kids to you and a few of my harem, too. A couple of fake betrothals would get the Old Man off my back. How d’you feel about me creatin’ a permanent gate to Ash Hill so Tsara and me can see the kids every day? It’s gonna tear her up if we send them off and she can’t see them except at mortal holidays.”

A permanent gateto Hellin my house? I don’t feelgoodabout it. But I’m making deals with a demon. There are worse things he could demand.

“Fine,” I agree. “If it could lead to your mate’s garden, that would be less alarming than the places where those fire-spiders roam.”

The demon chuckles. “I promise no Flamin’ Spiders. Open alliance between Ash Hill and the Cait might attract attention above and below. You ready for that?”

I lift my chin and stare out at the dark tide. “Given Caileán’s propensity for running into the teeth of things that might try to eat her, I’m seeing the wisdom in having as many allies as possible. You never know when you might need that ally to save her ass.”

The demon’s chuckle expands to a laugh that rolls over the susurrus of the tide.

Chapter 40

Hellish Pride

LAW

The Princess of Thirst is as beautiful as a shell, perched on a throne the milky opacity of sea glass. She watches the four of us with eyes a paler green than the Cait’s, light slipping from lid to lid without interruption by pupil or iris. Her hair, tiny horns, skin and a fitted gown, highlighting her generous curves, ripple with all the pastel colors of pearl.

Then a snake’s red, forked tongue slips across her pale lips and she speaks, revealing three rows of jagged fangs.

“Baron Ash. Cait Prince. To what do I owe the honor?” she asks.

My eyes are pulled from the horror of her mouth by movementwithinher throne. A skeletal horse’s head pushes forward to bump its nose against the glass. It regards me with dead, white eyes, before disappearing into the opaque liquid swirling within the glass.

“Sassthen,” the demon murmurs.

The Princess of Bile’s shark-smile spreads wide. “My cousins may have lost their grip on the souls of the Cait, but the shades of those who met their death by Water still answer to me.”

I echo the demon’s posture, crossing my arms over my chest.

Mordeh leans forward on her throne. “Too soon?” she asks coyly.

Yes, it is much too soon to joke about my ancestors’ soul-agony. But it is also too soon to rise to the bait of the Princess of Bile. I smile coolly at her.

“I hear you had a tussle with a pair of mortal mages seekin’ sanctuary with your dame,” Jou says, ignoring our interplay and the shadows moving through the murk of the princess’ throne.

The demoness inspects her fingernails, twice again as long as her fingers and gleaming with delicate nacre. “My mother made a bad bargain. Now I control the Mirrors of the Dransbych. Those seeking sanctuary in the Acid Court come throughme.”

Jou bows to the demoness. “Your prowess in negotiation is exceeded only by your foresight, Princess. Truly, those who wield power in Hell control the gates.”

Mordeh snorts. “I’d heard you’re smooth, Baron. I’m aware you and your Consort have mastered Dis’ gates. And that the Cait who stands at your sidewalks the shadows freely, even more freely now that his Crow has retaken her throne. What do you want of me?”

“I came to offer an alliance, but as you control access to the Dransbych, maybe you have no need of allies,” Jou says.

Her long, almond eyes narrow. “An alliance with Ash Hill?”

“And Cait House,” I say. “And Ceòfuar.”

She slow-blinks at us. “And what do you want for such an offer? I can’t give you the souls of the two mages I kept out of my mother’s welcoming arms. I didn’t claim them.”

“Licyssa and Ahzatzu are no friends of Ash Hill,” Jou says. “My home is just beyond the Demon Forest, which has thinned since my seggurach expressed her extreme displeasure with my imprisonment, as you might have noticed.”

Mordeh nods. “Lady Ash’s fury continues to burn throughout Olt. I wouldn’t cross her even if your father offered me his hand.”

Jou chuckles. “Even the Old Man’s learned to be wary of Tsara when she’s on a roll. Pregnancy hormones and righteous feminine rage? Powerful fuckin’ combo.”

“I’d like to meet your seggurach when she’s ready for company,” Mordeh says. She nods at me. “And your Crow Queen. Provided you’re not asking me to give up the lands I’ve claimed or my control of the Mirrors, I’m inclined to take your offer, Baron. But it would be foolish of me to enter an alliance without knowing my allies’ aims.”

---