Melchious.

A name he had heard horror stories about all his life. A name people dared not utter in some places for fear it might attract his attention. A creature his father had long ago cheated beneath the misty trees of Brisgald. And now he had a personal interest in William. The Lord of Torment had a personal interest in him.

There were some fates worse than death. This was one of them.

"Felix," said William, "run. Get word to my father."

"But-" began Felix.

"Go!" William shouted.

"Oh, I'm afraid that everyone not on the guest list is to be quite dead." said the demoness. "Kill the-"

William threw his pack at one of the satyrs, ignoring the weight of it. It hit the creature right in the chest and sent it sprawling onto the ground. Drawing his sword, he rushed forward and laid about him with his sword. He felt a jerk in his hand as he broke a satyr's spear and cut the creature across the leg. It fell back, screaming, and he moved to finish it. Then, he was struck from behind and fell forward onto the ground.

Rolling over, he swung his sword wildly as he stood up, the satyrs around him. He warded them off for a moment before his hand was forced down. The blade was wrestled from his grasp. One of the creatures raised a knife to finish him.

Yet Doltier grabbed the creature by the hand and said something on their tongue. He reminded them that Melchious wanted William alive, which was even worse.

"My, you aren't one to go gently, are you?" asked the demoness. "No matter, now for the other?" She looked around. "Where did he go? He was here a moment ago, yet now I can't sense him."

Felix had slipped away. He was nowhere to be found. William felt a sense of relief as he was hauled to his feet, and his hands were bound. The satyrs were tending to their warriors' wounds with some magic. Others were looking for the pack and marveling at the jewels they found within. Finally, Doltier said something, and they put the gold and gems back in before he took up the pack.

"Doltier is the ring-giver of this band," said the demoness. "He awards the spoils of their victory as he deems fit, and they follow him."

Then Doltier punched William in the gut. William doubled over, gasping for air, his whole body shaking with the effect. He fell to his knees but forced himself back up. He did his best to look defiant, and it seemed to be noticed.

"I suppose you think you've been courageous, don't you?" mused the demoness.

William considered how best to reply. Finally, he decided on a simple fact. "I have been."

"Oh, do shut up." said the demoness, "Doltier, don't bother pursuing the other. There is no help for miles. The gold is yours, of course, but that harp... That harp is mine."

Doltier said something.

"Oh?" asked the demoness. "I report to Melchious. That harp is of a special kind, and I will have it. You wouldn't be able to make any use of it anyway."

Doltier drew the harp out and passed it to the demoness, who took it into the shadows. She seemed to covet it, though it was challenging to say how William could tell. Something about the way the shadows shifted.

Then she kneeled where William's sword lay covered in blood. The shadows surrounded the blade and spun it around in a flourish.

"Hmm," she said, "I think I'll take this as a trophy as well."

Doltier did not seem at all upset by this. Instead, he said something contemptuously and walked away, motioning to the other satyrs. Soon, the whole group began to move again.

William was herded through the woods by the satyrs and was shoved and beaten at several points. The satyrs hated him bitterly. If a hungry chimera had devoured several of William's friends, he would likely feel the same.

As they walked, the demoness started talking. "At any rate, you must understand how truly I appreciate your cooperation. Every so often, you get these heroic types. They spend every waking moment screaming in pointless defiance. As if that makes any difference.

"Resigned silence is always preferable for me. It means I don't have to listen to them bluster, and my minions maintain some measure of dignity.

"You know Lord Melchious came into this realm only recently? My Lord has, for years and years, been limited to one side of the river in terms of worldly affairs. Yet there have always been places in Seathorius where the dark is powerful. I've been turning events in his favor for years, and I've been ever so successful."

"Do you ever stop talking?" asked William.

"I'm the captor; I'll do as I please." said the demoness. "At any rate, where was I? Oh yes, well, you may have heard why Melchious wants you already. The usual variety of demonic retribution, no doubt, is to be agonizingly slow. Though the demon usually cheats on the mortal. Then, they get what they bargained for anyway.

"Dear Vanion seems to have tried to make things turn out the other way around. It almost worked, too, but fate has a way of resolving these unfortunate little disputes. But, of course, we have no power over your soul. That pointless little defiance of yours at the satyr prison saw to that. But that doesn't mean Melchious can't make your first death last weeks.

"You should be glad. It could have been an eternity."

"So that's why the satyrs attacked my ship," said William. "Melchious directed them to target me to get to my father."

"Yes, you seem to have a moderate amount of intelligence, don't you?" asked the demoness. "Of course, Doltier and his satyrs thought we merely intended to hold you for ransom. We let them believe what was convenient for us. The best-case scenario was for you to accept my offer, be freed, then recaptured and ransomed later."

Doltier muttered something under his breath.

"Oh, do stop complaining," said the demoness, "you got the gold, didn't you?" She turned her focus back on William. "Meanwhile, you got the aid of a god. We lost several minions, and we've had to spend the last few days looking for you. It was exceptionally inconsiderate of you, praying for help like that."

"Go to hell," said William.

"I'd love nothing more than to go home, but for the moment, duty compels me to remain here," said the demoness. "I will never get used to the complete lack of the agonized screams of the damned.

Especially the lack of futile pleas for mercy. But we must all sacrifice for the greater evil."

"Well, in that case, you can go to heaven!" snapped William.

"No need to get hostile." said the demoness. "I'm merely conducting you to untold torments and a horrible, grisly end. Think of the inconvenience you caused me? So, in any case, it's your fault if you think about it."

"How?" asked William.

The demoness considered it. "Well, we didn't get what we wanted. Now, granted by your standards, that makes you a hero. Yet we demons have an enlightened policy of self-interest as morality."

"Meaning that it is not my fault in any way, and you are a sore loser," noted William.

"I would prefer to think of myself as a sore winner." said the demoness. "And that is exactly the kind of attitude that I was complimenting you for not having. But, unfortunately, it isn't improving my situation. Thus making it more difficult for me to gloat."

"My heart bleeds for you," said William. "Perhaps there shall be a tragedy written about the degradation you suffered. I expect it will also mention how you led an innocent prisoner to torment and death."

"Well, that does sound appealing." the demoness mused. "But you aren't innocent, so that might be a poetic exaggeration."

"Shut up," said William.

"I don't see why I should-" began the demoness.

Then, there was the roar of a lion, a goat, and a dragon. The sound of it rattled William's teeth. Out of the trees came the chimera, mauling a satyr to death with its paws. The lion tore out the throat of another while the goat gored a third with its horns. A wave of fire was unleashed as the satyrs scattered. The satyr holding William's rope threw down its sword and fled.

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"Well, that was unexpected." said the demoness. "I wonder why it's killing my minions."

Seeing his chance, William kneeled by the fallen sword and began to saw on the ropes. Soon, they came loose. However, no sooner had they dropped from his hands than a blade went to his throat. It was his sword.

"I would stay still until we've killed the creature if I were you." said the demoness.

Doltier hurled a spear that surged through the air and lodged in the chimera's back. It screamed and then unleashed a torrent of flame at the demoness. She cried out, and the sword and William's pack fell from her grasp. He snatched the blade and the bag and ran into the wilderness. As he did, the chimera's roars became louder and louder behind him. Then they fell silent. As he fled through the trees, he realized the satyrs would overtake him. Already, he could hear the trumping of feet. He had to get out of sight. So, hauling himself up into a tree, he scaled up, sheathed his sword, and tried to be as unobtrusive as possible.

Then, out of the underbrush came the chimera. It was limping and trailing blood. Arrows and spears were lodged in its flesh, mewling piteously from all three heads. It looked up at William, and before he knew what he was doing, he was scaling down the tree to meet it.

The chimera saw down, moaning in pain. William touched its head, and it growled. He drew back his hand. The poor thing was dying, and he could not leave it like this. Drawing out his harp, he played a few notes, calming the creature. Then, he set down the instrument.

"Listen," he said, "I can heal you. But I need to remove the weapons inside of you. You can't attack me, or we'll both die."

The chimera wheezed, but it seemed to nod. William took hold of an arrow and tried remembering what he knew about healing. He wasn't supposed to yank the handout. The head might come loose and still be inside the wound. William did not know if he could heal wounds in a way that pulled out the arrow.

He knew a knife from his pack and sliced an incision in the flesh. The chimera moaned and roared. William kept calm, reaching down into the wound, following the arrow shaft to find the head.

Grasping it, he pulled out both arrow and head. The chimera roared and pulled away from him, hissing, growling, and bleating at once.

"I need to heal the wound," said William. "Please, stay still."

Slowly, the chimera lay down, and William set one bloodstained hand on the wound. The power he had felt before came to him again, and he channeled his will. The wound healed, and the chimera whimpered.

Next, William took hold of the spear in the chimera's shoulder. Gripping it with two hands, he hauled it out of the wound. The chimera roared again, and he was afraid he'd be roasted. Yet he was able to heal it, and with that done, threw the spear aside and began to work on the other injuries.

The work took hours. By the time William finished, the morning was dawning, and he was exhausted. His hands and lower arms were stained with blood, and he felt faint. However, the chimera was still, and he fell to rest against its healed body, the last arrows pulled out.

William must have fallen asleep because twilight had fallen when he opened his eyes. He was lying on the ground, and when he looked up, he saw the chimera staring at him. Their eyes met, and William saw a feral divinity that defied description. For a long time, they remained still, just staring at each other into eternity.

Between its forelegs was the harp.

William picked himself up and sheathed his sword. He put away his knife and noted that the rations were still there or what had been left anyway. Then, picking up a spear he had taken out of the chimera, he looked up at the creature.

"Listen," said William, "did you kill all the satyrs?"

The chimera said nothing, not comprehending. Then it shoved the harp at him. William sighed, picked up the harp, and put it into his pack. The chimera growled.

"I can't play now," said William. "That demoness is still out there. I can feel it. She might have other servants, and we've lost a lot of time. So we have to keep moving."

The chimera moved forward and nuzzled him with its lion head. At the same time, its goat head began to munch on the grass at his feet. The dragon's head was raised above the other, scanning its surroundings. William smiled and scratched the creature behind the ears.

"Come on," said William. "Let's see if we can find Felix."

William had entirely lost his bearings during his flight the previous night. He did what they had done when they had been cast overboard. He turned and began to walk in a random direction. The chimera padded after him.

Soon enough, they came across a shrine. It was made of black stone and had three statues on it. The first statue was a beautiful woman with exaggerated features. It was taller than the others and very fair. On her head were goat horns, and in her hand was a great mace raised high above her. On her right was a figure robed so that nothing of its features could be discerned. Last of all, on her left was a statue of Melchious.

At the knees of the statues was an altar of black stone. The chimera did not seem to like this place, and William didn't like it.

"It must be a shrine to demons," said William. "I don't know these creatures beyond Melchious. I don't think I want to know them either. Come on, let's move on."

At that moment, out of the trees came two dwarves. Their beards were wild and unbraided, clad in skins. They held in their arms a sizeable white cloth on the altar.

"So why are we making these sacrifices anyway?" asked one.

"Didn't you listen to the white satyr?" asked the other.

"I don't know those animal's tongues." said the first. "I've never been able to make sense of it."

"There is some terrible new enemy, I gather." said the second. "They set fire to that satyr's village with help from the Dreaming Goddess. Then, when they went after them for vengeance, they called a chimera to attack them. So they set the chimera to flight but took serious losses."

"Makes me glad." muttered the first. "Fewer of those animals, the better."

"The satyrs are our allies." shot back the second. "If the Dreaming Goddess has some new servant, it's our problem. Especially since whatever it is, it's on our side of the river now."

"Maybe it'll move on." said the first.

"We can only hope," said the second. "Here comes High Priest Devrox; let's stand to attention now and be ready for the sacrifice."

Sacrifices? It seemed likely now that Melchious' servants would kill some poor souls on their altar. William had to do something about this. He looked to the chimera, whose lion head was licking its chops hungrily.

Out of the trees came a dwarf with a neater beard, clad all in white. William took him to be Devrox. In his hands was a sacrificial knife, and behind him was a group of armed guards. Last of all was a servant holding a lamb in his arms. William sighed in relief.

"Come on," said William to the chimera, "we ought to get out of here."

The chimera was looking at the lamb and licking his chops.

"Not now," said William. "I'll play my harp for you tonight. So don't start a fight just yet."

Reluctantly, the chimera followed William away from the shrine. William reflected that, at the very least, not all of the rites of Melchious' servants were so vicious. It was a consolation to know that his servants were not all evil. Perhaps to them, the world looked very different indeed. Melchious may have appeared good.

He put such thoughts from his mind. They were close to heresy in any case.