Page 100 of Hell-Bound

She spun around.

“Zelaia?”

She called into the forest, knowing there would be no response.

Hells hells hells helllsssss.

Reaching up she grabbed the ends of her hair.

This is really bad.

With a start, Ren jumped back, something having grazed her leg. She looked down and saw Ahdan’s hand hovering in the air. His eyes were looking past her, but it still felt like the move was purposeful.

“I’ll bring Azur back, Ahdan. I promise.”

He did not respond—did not move.

His hand hung in the air motionless.

She wanted to stay with Ahdan, to try and comfort himsomehow, but urgency was rising within her. She knew she must act fast.

She began to back away tentatively, afraid to take her eyes off the Devil lest he move again. Only when his features were too small to make out movement did she finally turn and make a break for the tavern.

The city was starting to wake up as the purple bolts of lightning appeared. She saw sleepers exit buildings and walk lethargically down the street in unorganized files.

Rounding the corner, she saw the female Half-Orc sitting in her usual spot at the entrance to the tavern.

Ren had no fixed plan, but the tavern always had answers, and maybe she could get them from The Gilded Triangle.

She bounded through the front entrance, startling Fred away with a jolt; he had apparently fallen asleep at his bar.

“Anything for me, Fred?” she burst out, more aggressively than she’d meant to.

The barkeep blinked several times.

“Jeez, ye scared me, Renata. It’s barely light out.” He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and gestured toward the glass filled with amber liquid. “Nothing yet. But I hear ye need to be movin’ along soon.”

Damnit to hell. The tome.

Ren laughed nervously. “It’s all taken care of.”

She tried to casually walk up the stairs.

The door to her room was oddly closed. Fred’s custom had been to leave it open while she was away. She approached cautiously, warning bells ringing in her head.

When she touched the knob, she heard the slightest rustle behind her. Ren whirled around and lurched forward, hands finding purchase on plush white robes.

Leo’s robes.

“What the hell, Leo?” she said, pushing him away and letting out an anxious breath.

He reeled back, “I’m…I’m sorry,” he sputtered, hands held protectively in front of him.

He wasn’t the same Leo she had come to know. Purple shadows lined his pale eyes, and his hair—usually neat and controlled—was now frizzy, unbound, and damp with sweat.

“Have you found it? Please tell me you’ve found it.”

“Leo, are you okay?” she asked, trying to steady the shaking man.