More demons were piling into the decaying hospital. A horn count put us at one hundred and fourteen demons, plus one miserable human. This wasn’t exactly a big hospital—the emergency room seemed large enough for a half dozen beds—so the place was packing out.

With humans, this would have been a problem as groups would have started eyeing each other suspiciously and possibly starting fights over resources. With demons, the problem was quickly alleviated by forcing them into a contract that prevented them from attacking one another. Even without the contract, they could have been made to swear not to attack before entering, though changes in conditions could have reversed that.

Most of them were being placed into scouting parties. Their role was to search for new allies pouring into the city and to raise the alarm if Holt’s party decided to attack in the middle of the night. Under Markus’ orders, they all had to be split up and placed in scouting parties with demons from different Junction-established parties. They never complained. I wasn’t sure they were allowed to.

The sun was setting, darkness was overtaking the hospital. The movies had always made out that, when on the precipice of war, there’d be a tense stillness in the air. It just felt like a normal day in the office, assuming the office was crumbling away and barricaded with refuse.

No songs were being sung. Conversations were only had in hushed tones, and they never lasted long. The demons kept on guard were usually so busy boarding up the building that they had little time to talk.

A lot of demons could see in the dark, but for those who couldn’t a number of rabdoses had been donated to the lobby that provided dull, passive lighting. I’d objected at first as I didn’t want to give away our position, but given that we were running scouts all night I figured it didn’t matter too much.

Ironically, I wasn’t having too much trouble seeing in the dark. I figured it was due to the ambient lighting that emanated through the hospital along with a clear and full moon watching over us like a hungry hawk. Still, when asked, I feigned blindness and was lent a rod that produced light by one of the demons. Well, lent is too strong a word, because said koryf was actually following me around, lighting the way for me. I offered to hold it myself, multiple times. She silently ignored me. I regretted the fact that she hadn’t been stupider, because I would absolutely have pocketed it the moment she turned her back.

I wasn’t feeling all that tired, despite the sun having set already. I think the aftereffects of having all that corruption pumped into me the day before, during the estray fight, had eliminated my need to sleep. I hated to admit, but I was grateful for not needing sleep. I needed to stay awake today, because one missed opportunity meant a dead Algier. I needed to be on high alert tomorrow, and sleeplessness would kill me.

Another scouting party returned. Volce and I rushed over to get their report.

“Nothing abnormal,” said an owl-headed balaam.

“Explain what you mean by ‘abnormal’,” I demanded, arms folded, with Möbius poking out beneath in a way that made it clear I was armed.

“We saw nothing but buildings. No demons,” they clarified.

I drummed my fingers on my triceps. “This is the tenth party I’ve spoken to that has been close to the exit and came back without issue. Tell me if your contract has changed or not.”

The balaam’s eyes darted between me and the other members of their scouting party, as though trying to parse a strange language into something readable. “It changes often as Markus updates orders, but I have not checked it. These changes have no effect on scouting, I don’t believe.”

Volce let out a groan beside me and ran a pudgy hand down his face. “Just give it up, Algier. Holt ain’t moving.”

I gritted my teeth as I squashed down my frustration, then dismissed the scouting party. Volce split them, places them in new parties, then sent them all off again in different locations, according to orders relayed by an iuda.

Despite the steady stream of scouts, we hadn’t had a single run-in with Holt’s party all night, and every party returned safely. Things were going too smoothly, and that put me on edge.

My head was swimming with possibilities as to why. Were Holt’s scouts using a rabdos to keep themselves invisible? We were keeping a safe distance from the exit, so maybe we were being too cautious? Did Holt not feel the need to bother scouting? Was he that confident in his strength?

If they had a strong balaam, they could be asking them questions. I didn’t know how the portion of Markus’ contract that prevents anyone who signs from disclosing information would compete with a balaam’s divination. Both Markus and Toll had explained that signing something into secrecy elevated the difficulty of the question. Given that Markus was so strong, that raised the difficulty considerably.

Markus believed they’d need to have a balaam who can give divine answers, the highest tier—a power that was exclusive to only the strongest balaams. Toll had disagreed, saying that, as the party grew larger, it became more difficult to keep such secrets.

A couple of iudas were sitting in the middle of the lobby with their ears folded over themselves. Between relaying orders with Markus, their mouths were moving in a silent chant. If I got close, I couldn’t hear a thing. However, if I wandered off to a quiet room on the second floor, I’d hear a steady stream of incoherent whispers. By constantly speaking into the night, they made it difficult for enemy iudas to listen in on any conversations.

A similar defensive barrier was being maintained by the aratosas. Three of them were gathered in a dark room off to the side, sitting in odd positions with every one of their eyes closed.

Aratosas look humanoid, save for the fact that they have eyes covering every part of the body. More eyes means more power, meaning you can guess at their name count with just a glance.

The effect of their work was hard to spot with your eyes open, but the moment I closed mine, I’d see colours swirling so violently that witnessing it for too long made me physically ill. Another reason as to why I wasn’t sleeping tonight.

After shoving a balanced group together and giving them a direction in the city to scout, Volce tapped me on the shoulder and pointed in the direction of the entrance.

Toll came in first through a gap in the makeshift barricade. Following Toll were three familiar faces, and matching inhuman features to go with them, belonging to Rin, Septo, and Polka. Trails of smoke rose off of the three of them and their expressions were grim. For demons, that was. Meaning, they showed the slightest hint of fatigue, save for Septo who looked like they were about to pass out despite the fact that demons don’t sleep.

I turned to the koryf that was holding his light stick for me and said, “Piss off. Now.”

The brows on her bat-like face climbed high before the demon scampered off to the side of the lobby. From there, they watched me intently, waiting for me to call them back. That inability to think for themselves was exactly why I hated any demon that had more than three names. And yet, the idiot didn’t just give me the rabdos. Honestly!

Putting the koryf out of mind, I weaved through the crowd and the blockaded lobby to meet with Toll and the three newcomers. They all stopped just inside the entrance once Volce and I drew close.

“What happened?” I asked. I knew that Toll would probably answer, but given how prickly they’d been lately, I figured it best to just ask a question. I doubted it would count as anything more than a mundane answer as the others were unlikely to hide anything.

Fortunately, Toll let Rin answer. “Digressers,” she said. “A whole damned sea of them.”

My jaw tightened. “How close?”

“Right outside the Junction Tower. I doubt anyone else will be able to teleport in.”

Knowing that Rin may have lost contact with some of them, I turned to Toll. “Where’s the rest of her party?”

Toll shook their head. “Erased.”

Upon hearing Toll speak, Septo gripped Rin’s jacket and buried their head into the back of it. Polka’s giant ears flickered with frustration. Rin’s hand gripped tightly around her deck of playing cards. Up against Silica, I doubted any of those cards would have been of use.

Adding to my own frustration, a message popped up right in front of me.

You now owe Toll the following [Questions]:

6 mundane, 7 inquisitive, 5 seeking (was 4)

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Whatever. I was too frustrated to care right then. Besides, if Silica did catch us, there may have been no Toll left to cash in those questions.

“We were caught completely off guard,” Rin explained. “A horde of those digressers all surrounded us at once. They blocked out Polka’s hearing as they surrounded us, and since we couldn’t get in contact with the aratosas in time, we were completely blind to the attack.”

“It is not the first time we have encountered the digressers,” Polka said, their manifold voices reverberating in my skull. “Usually, my hearing goes awry when they are near and all I can make out is static. That alone ought to be enough to signal that digressers are approaching. But this time, I heard pulses. Lots of them, layered upon each other. I knew it was an attack, but I could not tell where they were approaching from.”

“Everywhere,” said Rin. “They were already surrounding us before Polka even realised what was happening.”

“Then how did you escape?” I asked.

Rin jabbed a thumb over her shoulder at a sulking Septo. “It turns out this weirdo is actually quite useful at times.”

To the side, I caught Toll’s feathers shimmer in the dim lighting. I cocked an eyebrow at Toll. “What is it?” They weren’t going to tell me if I didn’t ask, as much as that frustrated me. Fortunately, it was only a mundane question.

Toll’s feathers settled back down. “In order to escape, Septo would have needed to provide answers of a divine nature. Numerous answers of the kind. It is… not impossible, but such a feat would qualify Septo for the Council of Ones.” Their gaze never left the whimpering balaam.

Rin waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, believe me, they’d never make it into one of those stuffy old seats. The Council of Ones is all politics. A demon’s power comes second to their relationships, as far as the Council is concerned.”

“Septo is not worthy,” Septo whimpered. They glanced at me quickly, likely trying to garner sympathy from me. I wasn’t in the mood to give it.

Hovering at my other side, Volce was quiet. However, he’d had his gaze fixed on me the entire time. I knew what he was doing. Each time I asked Toll a question, it seemed like I was lying about not wanting gain corruption, which was the excuse I’d given him earlier in the evening for not wanting to pair with him.

The thing is, there was no inconsistency in my behaviour. It wasn’t until Toll cashed in a question that I became more corrupted, so asking questions was fine. I just didn’t want Toll to ask me any back. I was only doing what I had to so that annoying balaam would tell me anything at all!

“Putting all that aside,” I said. “If Silica is closing in, we may not be finding more allies. We should probably pull our scouts back to prevent any losses before we—”

A small hand slapped to my mouth, silencing me. Volce lowered himself onto my shoulder and whispered in my ear, “Don’t say anything until they’ve signed the contract.”

I swiped the deuce away. “This is exactly the time to be telling them stuff, before Markus gets his grubby hands on them.”

Sure, I had little to go off, but Septo had taken an odd liking to me—odd for a demon, that was—and Rin’s thorny relationship with Markus was something I could work with.

“What’s there to tell?” Rin said, gesturing vaguely. “You’re preparing for a war. I assume you’re going for the exit, given that there’s not much else left to do in this Ring.”

“There is one more thing,” Toll answered. “The demon guarding the exit is Holt Argo Roth.”

Rin’s mouth worked silently as she processed the answer. “Wait, you mean the Holt? Led the Invasion in Japan, refused to follow orders, right angry bastard in the best of Desolations. That Holt?”

“Yes,” both balaams answered.

The haures bit her lip. “Well, that’s concerning.”

“That’s an understatement,” Toll said.

I narrowed my eyes at her. “Wait, don’t tell me that nobody here recognised Holt.”

“I did,” said Toll. “He was the one who was staring at you in the Glass Lobby.”

“But he seemed like such a nice guy,” I said.

“Is that sarcasm?” Toll asked.

“No, it’s a knife.”

Toll’s head tilted to one side. “You should take this more seriously, Algier. You are aware that Holt is likely to ignore the rest of the demons so that they can attack you first.”

I narrowed my eyes. “No. I’m not.”

The balaam’s eyes flashed for a moment, and in an instant their demeanour darkened. “Holt’s Hound is a terrible one: the end of all humanity. If he believes himself to be capable of doing so, he will take incredible risks just to slaughter a single human. And with his rabdoses, those risks are not so great.”

My grip tightened on Möbius’ handle. “And you decide to tell me this now.”

Toll fixed me with one golden eye. “Would it have made a difference? If you have been listening to anything I have said, there is only one valid plan, and that is to attack Holt at once, to take him down as soon as possible.”

“No, you’re right,” I hissed. “It doesn’t make a difference at all.”

It actually made a huge difference. I was going to slip past Holt the first chance Markus’ horrible contract let me and head for the exit. I figured that I would be the least threatening person there and everyone else attacking him would be of much greater concern. If a demon had the will to survive—and most did, since their Hounds, their sole purpose in their miserable existence, literally could not be chased if they didn’t exist—they would take the rational route and fight back against the greater threats.

But if Holt’s Hound involved recklessly attacking any human on sight, then that plan went right out the broken window. Combine that with Markus’ contract, which forced me to attack with the group, and what you got was a recipe for Algier purée. The more I looked at it, the more I wanted to stab Markus.

“You know,” I said bitterly, “I find it kind of strange that not a single fucking demon recognised him. It’s not like he was trying to hide his identity in the Glass Lobby. It was my understanding that demons had better memories than humans. I guess you’re all a lot stupider than you make yourselves out to be.”

I know it was petty, but I wanted to get back at Toll. The balaam could have warned me of this long ago so that—well, there wasn’t anything I could do, but I was still pissed that they were drip feeding me that sinking feeling of hopelessness. I felt they deserved something equally as bitter in return.

However, Volce slapped a hand to his face. “For someone who thinks they know everything about demons, you sure are fucking clueless.” I glared at him sideways.

Rin stared at me with her brows pinched. “The problem, human, is that we don’t recognise him. Nobody has seen him since the Invasion.”

“But some of you at least saw him in Hell,” I said through gritted teeth. “The Council of Ones holds those naming ceremonies that you all so love.”

“Oh, yes, they do!” Polka said. The iuda had been jittery since the conversation began, like they were desperate to talk, but hadn’t found a point to step in. Now it looked like the dam had burst. “They hold ceremonies every Earth year, which would be the equivalent of about every hundred years in Hell. Oh, do not take that literally. There is no accurate way to translate time across different planes of existence. Anyway, that does not mean we actually see the Council during those events. Often times, they will report our names via an intermediary. It is only for the important names, of three or less, that they ask a demon to attend the Council chambers, and even then, they will sometimes cloak their forms so that—”

“Enough, Polka!” Rin growled, twirling a finger in her ear. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. See, as there are a different set of rules governing existence between Hell and Earth, demons and humans alike simply cannot possess the same form in both places. On Earth, we have our corporeal forms, but in Hell, we have what we call an astral form. It looks… a little bit different from our corporeal forms.”

“For example, I have thirty-seven hands!”

We all spun at the sound of a familiar, nerve-grating, oily voice. Standing inside the barricade was Markus.

The one name clapped his gloved hands twice and peeked over his shoulder. “Come on, you useless lot. In you go.”

At his command, three demons trudged into the run-down lobby. They stood off to the side with their hands stretched out to the sides in a T-pose. No doubt Markus had made them sign a contract to stand like that. While I understood the practicality of having someone stand with their hands too far apart to do anything, it looked absolutely ridiculous. I knew Markus was just screwing with them.

The gentle murmurs of secretive conversation had died out completely upon Markus’ entrance. Even those who were listening in on our conversation with Rin’s party were now fixated completely on Markus.

Rin broke the silence. “Oh, great. You’re still bound, Markus.”

Markus gestured at the divots in her form from where streams of smoke rose. “You’re one to talk, Rin. What happened? Run into trouble and come crawling back to me for help?”

“Not quite,” Toll answered. “I brought them back.”

“But why?”

If a bird could look like they wanted to stab someone, I assume they would have looked something like what Toll did at that moment. “Because it is stated in your contract that we must gather allies in an ordered and reasonable manner.”

Markus gaped at him. “Yes, I know. I meant, why Septo? Are you trying to bring the mood down or something? You should have just stabbed him.”

“I am not, you fool. I was literally incapable of not bringing Septo back. They had chosen to join our group.”

Markus slapped his forehead. “I swear, if I’d known, I would have added a line in that contract to erase Septo on sight.”

The balaam in question cowered behind Rin. The poor bastard seemed like they would burst out crying at any moment—an incredible feat for a demon, since they had no tear ducts. Every once in a while, Septo shot me a pleading look. What did they expect me to do, argue with Markus? Just like Toll, I was contractually obligated to bring Rin’s group on board. Arguing with Markus would have been counter-intuitive to that and, therefore, impossible.

Rin shook her head. “Markus, can we just get this over with?”

“Fine,” Markus sighed. He snapped his fingers and a red-backed tablet appeared before Rin. “Sign on the bottom line, please.”

Without even pulling out her own laptop, Rin pinched at the air. Smoke gathered at her fingertips and formed into a stylus. Then she passed the stylus to Polka. The iuda gaped at her for a few seconds before slamming their mouth shut and signing as well. Polka’s signature was a mess, given that they couldn’t see. Septo followed at Rin’s command.

As for me, I was rendered speechless by what I was seeing. Rin hadn’t even tried to negotiate. That couldn’t be right. It was practically hard coded into a haures’ sigil to want to haggle over everything. Even if she knew the contents of the contract beforehand, she would have certainly tried to argue anyway. She wasn’t in that bad of a shape, either, to be forced to accept any conditions offered to her. Most of those wisps of smoke that trailed off her were gradually closing up. Even the fear of being attacked by Markus and friends wouldn’t have prevented her from trying.

Which led me to one conclusion: Markus had put a condition in their last contract, the one concerning the use of the Junction Tower, which prevented Rin from haggling. If that were the case, then how long had he been planning this?

Markus clapped his hands together and a grin split his face. “Now we’re all one big happy demonic family.” He shot me a look. “Oh, we have you as well. I guess every well-off human family has a dog these days. We might as well get into the spirit! Hopefully you act as loyally as a dog and take a hit for your master.”

Volce leaned his elbow on my shoulder and flashed his serrated teeth at Markus. “Oh, don’t worry. He likes to bite the hand that pets him.”

“Alright, enough with the roleplaying,” Rin grumbled. She jutted her chin at the demons standing off to the side. “What’s with the scarecrows?”

“Oh, that!” Markus said excitedly. “You’ll never believe it. Go on, tell them.” He waved a hand at the demons.

A haures, judging by his knobbly horns and red eyes, nodded Markus’ way. “We are in Holt’s party. We just got attacked by digressers.”