Page 51 of Hell-Bound

“You make a good point, my dear.”

A clank and two daggers fell at her feet.

“Theseare real weapons. They won’t just burn a creature of The Hells. They will incapacitate it. While you could kill it, I know your expertise is more in hiding and sneaking. Whoever gave you that other plaything was animbecile.”

She bent to pick them up.

“Now that’s what I want. Willing submission at my feet. Though I’d much prefer you on your knees.”

She grumbled, righting herself. “Absolutelynot.Don’t flatter yourself.”

Azur shrugged his shoulders coyly and returned to his desk.

“Darling, I’m the king of pride and lust. Self-congratulation is literally in the job title. Now run along, Ren. I have a great deal of work to do, and you have something of mine to recover.”

And before she could retort, she was standing in a clearing in the Forest of Nahmir.

I thought that this organ in my chest had long died until it was stricken with anxiety. It was—unpleasant. I continue with my aims, heart notwithstanding.

Thankfully, Ren was fully clothed when she appeared in the clearing with Jester. She didn’t think she could deal with any more snide remarks from Devils this morning.

Jester was in a much better mood today and babbled ceaselessly about different pranks he’d pulled the other Lords.

“Lord Wyvryn is definitely not my biggest fan. One time, I stole all his hair products and replaced them with glue. He wassomad. You’d think that a Lord of The Hells would be able to re-grow their hair in a snap, but actually, it just grows like the rest of us.”

Jester flipped his own silky black hair.

Ren couldn’t help but chuckle. She learned that stories were almost like music. Wonderful little productions of things from someone’s heart. It encouraged her ever so slightly to think that even though she didn’t have stories or memories to share, she could share her music.

Their walk remained uneventful as the daytime apparently wasn’t conducive for giant Monstrosities to go hunting. Jester even asked her to play a song on her piccolo before he interrupted to give another account of one of his famous exploits.

“And Lord Evernight tried to throw a sword at me, but—”

He paused, pointed ears perking.

“We are close, Ren.”

She tilted her head, and indeed, she could hear the murmurs of voices in the distance.

Jester crouched down and slowly approached a clearing.

They stood on the peak of a tall hill overlooking a valleyof ash. A massive castle sat in the distance, right at the bottom of the hill.

Unlike The Forked Tongue, this castle was everything a malevolent castle should be. It rose high with black spires that disappeared into the purple clouds. The windows were tinged with green grime, and every corner screamed macabre.

“Gods above,” she murmured. “You’ve been in there?”

“Yeah. a few times, actually. It’s not hard to get in. Wyvryn is a dumb twat and keeps his back door unguarded.”

Jester snorted at his own joke.

Ren was unamused.

“Now we just wait until nightfall and then sneak in! Easy peasy!”

The two settled, night still being a few hours off. They shared some rations and tried to catch a few moments of sleep.

When she noticed that Jester was, just as she was, unable to find sleep, she broke the silence. She had tried to ask for days now, but she couldn’t find the right space between almost being killed and Jester’s relentless joking.

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