Page 59 of A Match Made in Hell
I trot behind them, keeping a careful distance. They’re going to suffer because of me. They must know it. Sath was aboutto offer them a clean, merciful death and this tiny, pathetic human has made their fate ten times worse. But I shouldn’t feel bad about that. They wanted this tiny, pathetic human ripped to shreds by whatever was behind those gates. Theydeserveto suffer.
The chamber is full when we emerge. At first, I assume a boat has arrived, before realising there are no humans present. Just demons, snarling and snapping, like Sath has magically summoned them here and they’re furious as to the reason why. Winged demons swoop overhead. They drop to the ground when they spot Sath, while I hover in the doorway, unsure of my place.
The demons need to think this was all Sath’s idea, if he wants to ensure they stay compliant. We can’t risk another attempt to open the gates, not when they’re close to breaking apart. Not when I can still feel slight tremors beneath my feet.
As Sath settles on his throne, I duck behind the door, pushing it halfway shut while leaving a big enough gap for me to peer round. Hopefully they’ll all be too distracted to spot my curious eyes peeking out.
Kora and Ash haven’t moved. Good of them not to resist their eventual execution. I just hope nobodyelsetries to resist. Suddenly, my plan doesn’t seem as ideal. Sath’s right; the amount of power he’d have to use to stop an uprising would be immense.
‘These two were caught trying to open the gates to Tartarus,’ Sath says. He hasn’t raised his voice, but the sound carries around the cavernous room. ‘I shouldn’t need to remind you that crime is punishable by death.’
Low murmurs break out through the crowd. Aric slips to the front. My heart races. What’s he going to do? Fuck. Surely, if this was a stupid plan, Sath would have told me. Aric stops at the front of the dais, staring at the two demons, nose twitching.
‘Silence,’ Sath says.
The room rumbles, not dissimilar in feeling to when the gates were in jeopardy. Now, though, that rumbling is a source of comfort. Sath’s power is threaded through it, and knowing it comes from him makes me feel like I’m listening to a storm outside while I’m tucked up in bed, safe behind bricks and unbreakable glass while he hammers hail at the demons who’ve wronged us. So long as the demons sense that power too, hopefully they’ll stay sedate.
Sath rises from the throne, face impassive. ‘The gates are mine to control. I decide when they open. I decide who goes to Tartarus. I decide what gets out of Tartarus. And let me also remind you, Asphodel isnotTartarus. We are an in-between. We are the middle. We punish those who disrespect our rules, but we do not harm those who behave. And anyone in this room who seeks to destroy that balance will face the full force of my powers.’
Flames ripple down his arms and shoot out, black strands like whips of fire that curl around the two demons’ torsos. They howl, writhing as their skin hisses with steam. Yellow pus-filled boils erupt on the flesh closest to the ropes. They don’t die though. Sath is toying with them.
Good.
The remaining demons take a step back, Aric included. I don’t look away. I watch as those boils bubble and pop, the same way the demons watched when Sath burned that man on my second night here. This is for him. For every other innocent they’ve forced Sath to punish.
And these demons are getting a far worse punishment. Because it’s clear from their screams how much Sath held back before, how he really was telling the truth when he told me he made it quick and painless for the humans.
All too soon, though, the flames disappear. Sath cocks his head to one side. ‘Who told you to open the gates?’
They don’t reply. Sath grabs Kora and tugs her to her feet. ‘Do you expect me to believe,’ he says, voice like a caress, ‘you came up with this plan all on your own?’
I glance at Aric, but his face gives nothing away. Kora lets out a small sob. The sound doesn’t do anything to thaw the ice in my chest. I don’t care how much they squeal or plead, they brought this on themselves.
Sath relinquishes his grip, allowing the demon to tumble to a heap on the floor. I grind my teeth. He’d better not be going soft on them now, not this quickly. They won’t have learned their lesson yet.
Thankfully, Sath hasn’t finished. He grabs Ash by his throat, crushing his windpipe with enough force it visibly indents. The demon gasps, kicking his feet, scrabbling for air, but Sath squeezes and squeezes until his eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. My own breath halts. Ash’s claws scratch Sath’s arms, trying to push him off, but he’s not strong enough; he may as well be a doll in Sath’s clutches for all the power he has to escape.
‘You don’t want to tell me?’ Sath croons. ‘What a pity.’
He releases him, and, in a blur of movement, punches through his chest. Black sprays over the floor. I recoil on instinct, although it’s not me in the line of splatter: it’s Aric, along with a few others, who have that pleasure. Blood coats the bottom of his legs and the metal spike on his tail. He tries to shake it off, lips curling.
Ash’s body flops forward, a river of blood streaming from the hole left in his chest. Sath merely flexes his hand.
‘What shall I do with him next?’ he asks the watching congregation. ‘Send him to Tartarus? Or wait for him to heal, and kill him all over again?’ He prowls in a circle around Kora, who’s trembling, head bowed. ‘What about you? What would you like me to do to you? Should I make it quick, or . . .’
A sudden burst of flames has her howling. Sath smirks asshe writhes on the floor. The congregation finally have the sense to look unnerved; even Aric backs away as Sath steps towards them.Yes. Power rolls off him now, a trail of shadowy fire following in his wake, a reminder they shouldn’t dare get too close to him.
It’s enough to make me reconsider whether Sathcouldstop a revolt, if he put his mind to it. I can almost picture it: Sath, a blur of black clothes and black smoke, moving like lightning between them. A slice here, a cut there, puncturing flesh, bone, muscle, the occasional tail or two. A litter of bodies at his feet in a flaming heap. The thought has me swallowing a sudden onslaught of saliva and curling my fists so tightly my nails pierce the skin.
Out of the corner of my eye, a figure leaving the chamber catches my attention. The Sorter, the white of her hair stark against the dark walls, leaving like she’s seen enough. Aric, meanwhile, is enjoying his front-row seat. Sath gives him a pleasant smile as he strolls past, moving through the crowd, stopping every now and then to brush his fingers over certain demons’ necks, to send strands of fire curling through the air and trailing over their bodies, making them wince and twitch and cry out. The cavern stinks of fried skin and scales.
‘I want to make it clear,’ Sath says, ‘if any of you disobey me again, I’ll make it hurt in ways you couldn’t fathom.’
Then he’s standing in front of Kora. He’s facing my direction now, allowing me to witness the way his face is set in stone, no remorse or mercy on his features, his eyes golden and brimming with lethal power. This time, he doesn’t go for the chest, for that empty space where her heart should be, but takes her chin between his hands. He twists her head to the left, more, more, until there’s a sickening crack.
The room falls silent as the body drops to the floor. I expect him to turn, to show the spectators what he’s done, the powerand strength he has, but instead he staggers back, shoulders heaving. Strands of hair fall over his forehead. He reaches up to smooth them away, before closing his eyes and rubbing his face, smearing the blood on his hands over his cheeks, his lips.
My chest rises and falls in time with his, a little too quick, breaths a little too shallow.
