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It's All The Rage
22 – A Third Party

22 – A Third Party

The twisted bone trees would have provided ample cover for the ragtag trio moving forward. Yet, without even needing to speak it aloud, the group all trekked out of the forest and into the dunes. Cover or not, none of them were willing to spend more time amongst the corpse possessing boughs then they already had.

With nothing but the cavern overhead and towering sand all around, Mickie was free to dwell upon the rasping voice of the dead insect. If the vague mumbling at the start had been the demon talking from beyond the grave, then what had that second voice been? Some other soul perhaps, once eaten by the trees and now reaching out through them. Mickie could not say why, but he was certain that whatever it was, it had been talking to him. A door, a lock, and a key. How uselessly vague could you get.

A dull buzzing reached the group as they followed a twist in the dunes. It echoed through the cavern from some distance away, droning through Mickie’s thoughts like an alarm through a dream. The trio hunched low even though they could not see anything, turning startled eyes to one another. The buzz grew louder, driving them lower into the sand.

‘Kid, that’s a flyer. Might be out hunting for us.’

Miz-Mag hissed into his ear, and Mickie realised the tiny fiend was right. He had not noticed because of how distant it was, but that drone was the roar of an engine. Mickie knew from experience that the flying machines were extraordinarily loud. This one would have to be some distance away. He signalled to Kalistra, and they moved onwards, ears vibrating with the vehicle’s approach.

When the sound crested, and then began to fade, Mickie was caught by surprise. He had been preparing to burrow into the side of a dune if it got much closer. Try to hide from sight until the eyes overhead had passed them by. Instead, he paused, tilting his head sideways to confirm what his ears were telling him. The flyer was now moving away from them. In retrospect, he should not have been surprised. Unless Belphegor had some inkling of where they were, the vehicles would be forced to comb the desert manually. Try to find a needle in a haystack. Looking at it from that perspective, it almost seemed foolish to send anything out at all.

The sound of the machine faded to nothing, leaving them with the whisper of wind through sand. It was impossible to tell how long they had been walking under the bright desert light. Mickie knew it had to have been some time if the ache behind his eyeballs and drag in his step was any indication. Hunger and thirst may no longer be an issue for the branded man, but exhaustion certainly was. He and Kalistra had chatted for a while as they walked, idle talk of the circles to come. Now though, neither of them could muster up the additional effort to speak as they trudged ever onwards.

A break came in the monotony when Miz-Mag tapped him on the side of the head. It was nothing urgent, just the little demon letting him know that it needed to rest soon. Mickie took it as a sign of time’s passage, wondering if he would be able to get some down time of his own before Miz-Mag returned. He did not realise Kalistra had stopped walking until he almost stumbled into her back.

‘What’s up?’

Mickie mumbled, shuffling sideways to stand beside the gorgon. She cast him a weary look before pointing into the distance. The branded man squinted at a gap in the dunes, making out the raised road they had been following. For the first time since they had passed the fort, there was a break in the raised roadway. It met a high wall, vanishing into a barrier that encompassed a tall pillar of stone. They had made it.

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The mortal and the demon approached huddled in the shadow of the raised road. Mickie had been worried there would be traffic so close to the main highway between circles, but beyond the initial hunting party they had seen no further movement. The great sandstone pillar was surrounded by a tall wall of carved stone, protecting the space beyond from the worst of the blood storms. It also served as a great barrier to keep any sneaky passerby’s from getting to the circle’s exit, as Mickie and Kalistra were now discovering.

‘So, you knew about the city, any chance you know a way in too?’

He and the gorgon had come to a stop beneath a stone arch of the road, casting furtive looks towards the guarded city entrance. There was what seemed to be a small army of fiends at the entrance, far more guards than either of them had expected.

‘We could charge in?’

Kalistra suggested, her tone indicating how little she thought of the idea. They would need to climb up onto the road, break through a defensive position, then somehow lose any pursuers while making for the path out.

‘If we have no other options we might have to. I thought you said the exit wouldn’t be heavily guarded?’

There was something about the large force guarding the entrance that had Mickie worried. These fiends did not appear to be part of Belphegor’s enforcers.

‘I thought you said the exit would be lightly guarded?’

He darted another glance at the guards, attempting to make out their details from a distance. They appeared to all be demons of differing variety, though all wearing a similar uniform.

‘It should be. The Sovereign should have bled this place dry of all its capable fighters.’

Kalistra’s reply was laced with the weariness of their trek. She leant against the curved stone of the road’s arch and sighed.

‘I’m not sure why there would be so many guards here.’

Mickie drummed his fingers against his thigh, attempting to kick his tired brain into something resembling an analytical state. He felt like they had missed something, and charging into the city without the full picture would be a bad idea. A snippet of stuttered words came to him as he thought, something the insect’s corpse had said.

‘That demon we found, it seemed like it was trying to do something right?’

His ally had taken a seat in the sand and peered up at him through twisting serpentine locks.

‘Sure, if we can trust what a possessed corpse was saying.’

‘Alright. If that’s the case, then we can assume the Hive’s survivors made their way up here with some purpose in mind.’

Mickie’s voice grew stronger as his thoughts sluggishly clicked into place.

‘It is strange they did not flee somewhere else in the eighth circle.’

She murmured, and he nodded agreement.

‘Right, they chose to come here, a longer and riskier journey. That means the reward should logically be greater if they succeeded. Not only that, but they were travelling the road towards for the pillar.’

He slapped a weathered sandstone brick.

‘And what have we now found at the exit?’

Kalistra straightened.

‘The guards. You think the insects knew they were here?’

‘I do. Not just the guards either. There is likely a force of some kind beyond those walls, one large enough to maybe act against Belphegor. Why else would the insects come all this way?’

‘A large force…’

Kalistra frowned thoughtfully.

‘I don’t recall that style of uniform they’re wearing, which means that they’re likely not with the local authorities.’

‘The Sovereign then?’

‘Maybe. I just don’t know why they would be down in the seventh circle.’

‘Well, whoever it is, I think it’s safe to say we shouldn’t rush the entrance.’

Mickie said, adding this new, unknown player to his mental board.

‘Which means that it’s time to find another way in.’

Kalistra sighed and pushed herself back to her feet.

‘I suppose you’re right. Last thing we want to do is get stuck out for so long a blood storm hits.’

The duo sneaked right up to the point where the raised road met the tall wall. This close they could hear the low buzz of voices from the contingent guarding the entrance, the demons tucked away out of sight. Mickie strained to listen in, trying to piece together who they were, but all he could make out was the occasional word spoken with emphasis.

Kalistra was examining the wall itself, scratching at the cut stone with a clawed finger. She pulled away as if burned, glaring at the rock like it had insulted her. Mickie made his way over, unable to ask what the issue was with the guards so close. The gorgon gave him a small shake of the head, indicating he should not go near the smooth stone.

Currently, they were right beneath the point where the arched length of the road met the wall of the city. The curve of the stone highway provided them with a shadowed recess in which to hide. Soon though, they would need to move out, follow the curve where the sandy dunes broke against the high wall in search of an entrance.

A familiar roar had both him and Kalistra hunching back into cover, pressing into the sand. It was the sound of another flying machine, the engine spluttering to life with a reluctant grumble. They waited until the transport had lifted out of the pillar city and faded from hearing before making their move. He and Kalistra darted out from beneath the road and moved at a steady pace along the wall. Mickie waited until the guards were well out of earshot before murmuring a question to his companion.

‘No chance of us climbing up then?’

Kalistra’s slitted eyes were roving their surroundings, hunting for a gap in the stone or signs of pursuit.

‘Actually, I was checking to see if we could burrow through. I could weaken the stone with my abilities, and we could carve a hole.’

Mickie’s hummed appreciatively.

‘Solid plan. Why won’t it work?’

‘The wall is transcribed. Likely with runes to detect and prevent tampering.’

‘Really? I didn’t see any.’

‘They won’t be accessible from the outside.’

Kalistra paused, taking a moment to think.

‘I sensed them when I scratched the rock.’

‘And what about climbing?’

‘I doubt they have active rune protection against that, though they would likely detect it if we tried to scale the rock.’

Mickie glanced up the shear stone face, noting a lack of useful handholds. He doubted they would be able to make the climb anyway. Ahead of them another raised came into view around the bend of the wall. The pair fell silent as they approached, both he and Kalistra expecting more guards at this entrance.

Under the next road, the two of them took a moment to pause and gather themselves. That hike had been risky. Necessary, but risky. The low buzz of the guards overhead pressed silence upon Mickie, and he took a moment to consider their next dash forward. It seemed like the dunes were flatter along this next section of wall. It would mean less cover from anyone that chanced a look in their direction. Mickie craned his neck, catching sight of something tucked around the corner, a splash of red on the yellowed sand.

It took a few more moments of straining and leaning before he realised what he was seeing. Blood, a stagnant pond of congealed crimson, that was pressed up against the wall. Mickie squinted, trying his best to make out the body of liquid. Kalistra had mentioned that the lakes were boiling, but by all appearances this one seemed still as a pond after rain. He waived the gorgon over and pointed it out. After a few moments of observation, she gave him a small shrug. Looked like his companion wasn’t sure either.

Short break over, the duo moved onwards, heading right for blood pool. As they neared it, a rancid smell filled the air, like meat rotting in a rusty bowl. It sat at the back of Mickie’s throat, and he had to work a spike of nausea down. The dunes became low enough to see over, and he caught sight of a tightly packed bone wood, reaching towards the city wall with fingers of cracked earth. When they came upon the blood pool it took Mickie longer than it should have to realise what he was seeing.

It was less a lake of red than a stagnant pond, squatting in the shadow of the wall like a tick on the side of an elephant. Beyond the pool was a shaped region of sand that Mickie might have called a run-off, snaking down into the twisted boughs of the bone wood.

‘It’s a drainage system.’

‘A what?’

Kalistra’s face was pinched in disgust at the foul air.

‘A drainage system. For the blood from the storms.’

Mickie was growing more certain, elaborating as he examined the gory pond and city wall.

‘I guess you might not know about it, doesn’t rain much in hell. But these blood storms you mentioned would dump a lot on liquid on the inside of these walls. This looks like where all that blood ends up running after the rain is done.’

He found what he was looking for, hunched just above the congealed surface of viscera. A dark hole leading into the wall.

‘Which means, there would have to be an outlet. One that leads into the city.’

With satisfaction he indicated the drain, only to find Kalistra staring at him with a mixture of disgust and disbelief.

‘You see where that thing is right?’

It was true that the drain was in an inconvenient spot, centred on the far side of the stagnant pool. The thought of wading into the stinking blood was not appealing to Mickie, but he would do what was required to get into the city.

‘Sure, but look how big the drain is, easily enough space for us to crawl through.’

‘And what if there’s a grate or something blocking the inside?’

‘You can handle a bit of metal. Just turn it to stone.’

‘And if the bars have been Transcribed like the walls?’

Mickie sighed.

‘I didn’t know you were squeamish.’

Kalistra shot him a withering glare through her aviators.

‘Squeamish? You think I can’t handle a bit of blood? Don’t you remember what the arena was like?’

She snapped, but Mickie did not miss the way her hair fixated upon the pond, coiling away from it as if preparing to strike. The branded man sucked his teeth, stopping himself from pressing her any further.

‘All right. Even if the drain is sealed with runes we need to check. This might be our only option for a sneaky way inside. I’m going to head over and take a look, and if we can get through then I’ll signal you.’

If anything, the gorgon seemed more irritated by his attempt at tact. She took a deep breath in, exhaled through flared nostrils, and stepped towards the pond. With deft movements she rolled her cargo pants up to the knee. Mickie paused for a moment, baffled, before following suit with his jeans.

‘Alright. Here we go.’

Mickie came up alongside Kalistra at the pool’s edge, judging the distance to the open drain. It was only a handful of meters and would hardly take any time to cover. Yet as his foot met the viscous surface of blood and was sucked in, the branded man felt it was suddenly much further.

As it turned the pond was not very deep. By the time he and Kalistra slogged their way to the drainpipe, coughing and trying not to breathe through the nose, the blood was only halfway up his calf. It put the wide outlet at a perfect height for accessibility, and the duo clambered into its dry interior with an eagerness that bordered on frantic. Kalistra made a sound that was a mixture of a growl and gasp, before giving Mickie the kind of look he might expect from a demon that could turn things to stone.

The interior of the drain was not large enough for either of them to stand up, so they were sitting with backs to the pipe’s curve, blood-soaked shins held away from their bodies. Mickie tried to settle his churning guts as he stripped of his jacket, and then his fake metal band t-shirt. He bundled of the fabric up as Kalistra gave him an odd look.

‘Please don’t tell me you’re planning to dive back in.’

Mickie chuckled and used the shirt to clean the blood off his body.

‘Not at all, just making myself presentable.’

He got his legs as clean as he could, then recalled the shirt, leaning away as the blood it held slopped onto the curved stone.

‘Alright, shall we?’

He made to crawl onwards only to find the gorgon giving him a narrow eyed stare, blocking the path with an arm. The branded man gave her a grin and summoned his shirt again, feeling the tug of power as it came back clean. On his chest the amulet grew warm, and the power he had expended was swiftly replaced.

‘Very amusing.’

Kalistra said dryly as he tossed his clean shirt to her. The gorgon spent considerably longer than he had cleaning her legs before flicking the soaked bundle back at him. Mickie swiftly recalled the shirt before he got a face full of bloody cloth, then resummoned it and donned his jacket.

The pair turned their attention towards the interior of the pipe, stretching out like a portal into darkness. Mickie pulled their orb lamp from a pocket and passed it forward. Kalistra held the light source out and they started a slow crawl into the desert city’s underbelly. It was not long until their passage was barred, several dark steel bars driven right into the stone. Mickie glance around Kalistra as she examined the metal, trying to see if there were any runes carved into its surface.

‘What’s the verdict? Can we bust through?’

Kalistra did not respond immediately, reaching out to scratch at the steel before grasping and shaking one of the bars.

‘Looks like there was something transcribed on this once, but it’s faded now.’

‘That can happen?’

‘Not easily, but it can. And the blood rain of the seventh circle can be particularly damaging.’

Then, to his surprise, the gorgon pulled back an arm and drove a scaled fist into one of the metal bars. There a ringing crack and the bar bounced down the tunnel, broken free where it met the rock.

‘Shoddy work. Whoever installed this should have realised the blood would wear it down.’

Kalistra commented and proceed to hammer free a path forward.

‘Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.’

Mickie said once she was done, following his companion deeper into the city. They began to pass smaller pipes that fed into their larger drain, runoffs into the city’s main output. The duo stuck to the wider path, following it until they reached in intersection. Kalistra glanced down both passages before casting him a look over one shoulder. The light of the lamp played off her serpentine hair, casting dancing shadows across weathered stone.

‘Any particular preference?’

‘Gorgon’s choice.’

She huffed an amused noise before taking the split to the left. As they crawled Mickie began to hear the city above echoing through the narrower pipes. A distant buzz of voices and background clatter of movement. The sound grew as they progressed, and when they reached another intersection, it was clear in which direction the surface lay.

The duo followed the sound and came across a grate baring a narrow passage in the pipe’s ceiling. As Mickie watched a shadow passed overhead as a something moved above. The tromp of footsteps rang down into the drain.

‘Must be a street, and a busy one too. I’m thinking we try to find something quieter.’

He whispered and Kalistra nodded. The grates marked out before them by lines of light splayed across the stone. When the gorgon next halted it was at a new opening. The drain led into something akin to a service chamber, a cylindrical space with tunnels feeding off in various directions. Rungs of dark metal were set into a wall, leading up to a solid manhole.

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‘Looks like a service entry.’

Mickie made his way to the ladder and rested a hand on one of the rungs. The metal felt flaky and brittle beneath his grasp, weak as the bars Kalistra had recently broken. He cautiously pulled his way up, careful not to put too much weight on any particular rung. At the manhole he paused and listened. The sounds from above were distant, hopefully far enough away that no one would notice his exit. Mickie reached up and shifted the steel covering aside, crawling out and into a shadowed alleyway.

He made space for Kalistra, moving beside a wall while taking in the city. The town surrounding the exit pillar was different to any of the districts he had encountered whilst fleeing the eighth circle. The buildings were squat constructions of yellow stone, the same material as the wall encompassing the space. Dried blood was evident in the alley’s stone floor, making it appear as if the street itself were a festering wound on the face of the seventh circle.

Sticking to shadows and attempting to stay casual, Mickie moved towards the alley’s edge, peering out into the broader street beyond. The sound emanating from avenue was boisterous, and Mickie stuck his head out into a maelstrom of overlapping voices and shifting demons. It appeared the street held some form of Bazaar, with fabric covered stands lining the thoroughfare. There was a notable lack of humans amongst the throng, with most locals being short furry demons with broad, toadlike faces. Mickie also saw several craggy rock demons, lumbering their way through the masses.

Then he caught sight of something that made him duck low. Demons patrolling the street in the same uniforms as the guards at the city’s entrance. The armed group moved through the throng like a shark through minnows, untouched and swift. Mickie dragged his head back into the alley before he was spotted. It looked like his guess that there was another force in the city was on the money.

Kalistra emerged from the manhole and came to crouch beside him. He whispered to her about the armed patrol and together they waited for the patrol to move by. Their passage was marked by the quieting of the crowds, so he and the gorgon waited until the street was back to its prior roar.

‘It’s a shame there’s so many short demons out there. It’ll be hard for us to fly under the radar, even in a crowd of that size.’

Mickie mused.

‘And both you and I are conspicuous. Even if the city’s residents are not familiar with the arena bouts, gorgon’s and mortals are a rare sight here.’

‘Because of the heat?’

‘For you mortals maybe, but us gorgons are naturally resilient to it.’

Kalistra turned away from the street, and her voice deepened with a wistful undercurrent.

‘My people are just not all that common, we tend to stand out.’

‘Makes sense. Any thoughts on how we get to the exit then?’

The gorgon leant against a wall, keeping to the shadows.

‘We need to get a handle on the situation, get an understanding of who this new group is and why they are in the city.’

Mickie rubbed his jaw.

‘While I don’t like it, I think our best shot would be to wait for Miz-Mag. Even if we need to hide in the drain for a while.’

‘I agree, though I do not think we need to hurry back underground quite yet. It would be worthwhile to observe and rest in shifts.’

Though the reason she offered up made sense, Kalistra quashed the option of returning to the sewers a little too readily to be convincing. Mickie was not exactly eager to head back into the grimy underground either.

‘Yeah, alright.’

He slumped against a wall, letting the weariness of their journey here roll over him.

‘But you’re on first watch.’

Kalistra sighed, but shifted her attention back to the street.

‘Very well. I’ll wake you if I see anything.’

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The noise of the desert city was such that Mickie had expected some difficulty falling asleep. He must have been up longer than he had first thought, because in what felt like moments Kalistra was nudging him awake. Mickie emerged from a dream about a monstrous machine that was powered by blood. It took his sleep addled mind a moment to adjust, but soon he was taking his place at the alley’s entrance.

As Mickie watched it seemed that the bazaar was beginning to wind down, with some stalls packing it in and the crowds thinning out. He supposed there would have to be some form of work cycle to the place, same as in the city, but Mickie had no ability to track time under the constant cavern-light. It was a concerning development. The throng of demons had provided him and Kalistra with cover, and they would be at greater risk if it were to disperse.

Miz-Mag popped into existence as Mickie was tracking the movements of a patrol group. The little fiend had squinted blearily for a moment before taking in the city. Mickie updated his companion and send the grumbling demon on a scouting mission to the distant pillar. Time crept on and the bazaar grew increasingly quiet. He was just contemplating a move into the drainage system when something changed.

It was a subtle shift, a change in the demeanour of the locals rather than their actions. A low ululation of conversation preceding heightened attentiveness. Demons were suddenly casting looks over their shoulders and rushing purchases at shops. Mickie knew that kind reaction. Something had spooked the city’s residents, and if the increased fervour of their escape was any indication, it was coming this way.

In the distance a voice echoed across the sun scorched stone, the angry whipcrack of a growled command. Wary now, Mickie shuffled deeper into the alley, shaking Kalistra’s shoulder until he was certain the demon was awake.

‘Something’s happening.’

He moved to the open manhole, preparing to make a swift getaway, but unwilling to leave immediately. Kalistra appeared to have caught onto the urgency of the situation because the gorgon was upright and alert, making her way towards him.

‘What is it?’

‘I don’t know. Had the demons running off the streets though. Maybe some of the guards?’

The pair hunkered down; aware how dangerous it would be to be spotted but unwilling to pass up getting a peek for themselves. Beyond the alley the snapping voices grew louder, voices finally becoming distinct.

‘…don’t care what your orders are, we’ve got our own and we’ll damn well follow them.’

A pause as another voice spoke, too soft to make out.

‘The Sovereign don’t pay my bills. Belphegor does, so you can take your chain of command and…’

He lost track of what was being said as the group stomped by. Demons dressed in the dark combat gear of the enforcers, at least three dozen of them heading in the direction of the central pillar. Mickie kept his breath calm and body low, willing the group to pass by without glancing down the alley. When the talkative demon came into view it was trailed by a meek looking creature garbed in the white and blue colours of the guards they had seen. An envoy or spokesperson then.

‘The General will not stand for this. Belphegor is well beyond its designated purview.’

A harsh bark of laughter echoed down the alley walls, and Mickie was glad for the malice it contained. A conversation this tense would keep the attention away from them.

‘There is no way the old chimera has trekked all the way down here.’

The response was lost to him as the demons passed beyond the alley and out of earshot. Mickie stayed still, until the tromp of boots had almost faded into the distance, then he turned sharply to Kalistra.

‘Quickly, let’s move.’

While the enforcer’s passing had been tense, the time following it was heavy with opportunity. Mickie shot to his feet and made for the end of the alley.

‘Stop! What are you doing?’

Kalistra hissed from behind.

‘Following those demons.’

Mickie paused near the opening to the street.

‘We can use them as cover. All the locals are hiding right now because of those enforcers, but I doubt they will be for much longer. If we follow the big scary group, we can use them as cover. They were heading towards the centre.’

They could not waste any more time. Mickie stepped onto the scorched street and hoped Kalistra would follow him.

‘I thought you were sending Miz-Mag scouting? This feels like this is a bad idea.’

For all she objected, the gorgon fell into step with him almost immediately. It left Mickie feeling strangely warm, and he hurried to explain himself.

‘Look, there’s no way we were going to make it to the exit without some difficulty. Miz-Mag’s out looking right now, but it’s not going to report good news if the talk of those demons was anything to go by.’

He glanced into the darkened windows of the nearby houses, checking for eyes.

‘We need to take the opportunity to escape when it’s presented to us.’

‘Did you not hear them talking?’

Kalistra whispered back, as they skulked through the shadows cast by an overhanging balcony.

‘Belphegor is here, and that other demon mentioned the Sovereign. I don’t want to walk into the middle of that conflict.’

‘Neither do I, that’s why we use it as a distraction to slip past.’

They reach an intersection between streets, but Mickie did not slow. He could he the faint echoes of the enforcers up ahead, and they were still moving towards the towering pillar. Kalistra ducked her head and sped across the open intersection, wary of any wayward eyes that might fall upon them.

The distant pillar of yellow stone loomed ever larger, until finally the duo caught up to the group of enforcers. Mickie and Kalistra came upon them at the point where the street ended, opening into a broad stretch of open space before the towering exit. Mickie noted that the large group was not alone, other enforcers were forming up around the large courtyard. He hardly got more than a cursory glance before Kalistra pulled him into a narrow side street.

‘Do you want to get spotted?’

‘Sorry, I was trying to see what was happening. It looks like they’re surrounding the exit.’

Kalistra sighed, her serpentine hair twisting with agitation. A small snake curled about the frame of her aviators and began to pull them aside. Mickie glanced away while the gorgon readjusted her glasses.

‘It seems clear to me that Belphegor is antagonising the Sovereign’s forces within the city, though I am unsure why.’

Mickie gave the street on which they were huddled a once over. Narrow, windowless buildings, taller than those near the walls. No sign of life apart from them.

‘It would be good to find out.’

‘Our escape should take priority.’

The gorgon reminded him.

‘Yeah, sorry, on target. You got any ideas? I’m not sure how safe rushing an angry demon army would be.’

Kalistra gave him a pointed look.

‘Is that not what I told you?’

‘Well, sure, but we made it here, didn’t we?’

She begrudgingly gave him the point on that, rolling her neck and settling her attention upon the pillar.

‘If the wall was guarded then I imagine the pillar will be too. We could try the sewer system?’

‘I thought about that, but it likely won’t extend under the pillar. No need to collect blood from a sealed chunk of stone.’

‘I see.’

Kalistra replied, her toned faintly coloured by relief.

‘Then I’m not sure, we might have to break through Belphegor’s forces.’

‘No way forward but through.’

Mickie agreed and shifted his attention to the rocky walls hiding them.

‘Which means we’ll need to scope out whatever’s going down.’

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It was surprisingly easy to climb the sides of the buildings in the alley. The rock was cut smooth, but was not laid evenly, providing ample jutting handholds they could use. Factoring in Mickie’s pact enhanced strength, he just about flew up the side of the wall. It was when the branded man peeked his head onto the rooftop that he encountered a speed bump.

Huddled a small distance away, overlooking the open space before the exit pillar, was an enforcer. The demon was a mean and lean imp, lying flat to avoid the notice of its enemies below. Kalistra pulled up alongside him and raised an eyebrow. Mickie motioned towards the concealed assailant and the gorgon looked for herself, before dropping back into cover and giving him a nod. She pulled herself onto the rooftop and vanished from sight.

By the time Mickie’s momentary surprise had faded and he followed her up, Kalistra had crossed the dozen or so meters of slanted stone. She had the shocked imp’s head in one hand, and Mickie watched on as the wide-eyed expression on the creature’s face shifted to stone. The branded man slunk to his companion’s side, and she offered him a slice of rooftop with an exaggerated wave.

Before taking his spot, Mickie spent a moment checking for other shooters on the surrounding buildings. Their unfortunate fiend had chosen its spot well though, hidden by the slant of the roof and taller buildings on either side. If there were other demons on high, they were unlikely to spot the mortal and gorgon.

Mickie lay down in the imp’s vacated position, Kalistra huddling low beside him. They faced the open expanse of the courtyard head on, with only a single short building blocking part of the view. The space itself was a semicircle on the side of the pillar, outlined by the straight lines of buildings and punctured by multiple streets.

Where each of the broader avenues met the open space, Belphegor’s forces were gathering and setting up barriers for cover. The sound of it was astounding, the barking of orders and clanking of equipment undercut by the hum of general activity. It provided ample cover through which he and Kalistra could converse.

‘Look, you see them?’

Kalistra nodded towards the giant pillar that towered over the square like the trunk of a monstrous tree. Its base was carved into something resembling the façade of a building, though one far larger than any in the surrounding courtyard. A giant arched doorway sealed the entrance, and multiple balconies led into the stone interior. It was these shadowed recesses that Kalistra now indicated, and Mickie could make out figures moving within.

‘The Sovereign’s lot. I wonder how many of them are in there.’

‘Fewer than Belphegor has. Why else would they retreat?’

The serpentine warrior whispered after a moment’s thought.

‘The Sovereign’s soldiers are far on average more powerful than the enforcers. Even if this is this is a smaller division, they won’t be weak.’

‘And we’ll need to get passed them.’

Mickie concluded grimly, examining the demons in the square as they finished setting up barricades. A hush was settling over the gathered forces as they completed their work, orders for silence rippling through the crowd. The duo watched with laser intent as a small group exited one of the streets and walked into the open courtyard. Mickie made out a collection of blue and white uniforms driven forward by the enforcers, all orbiting around a central figure. A red skinned demon in a dark suit, walking with a lazy confidence.

‘Belphegor.’

The branded man hissed. Mickie’s old captor strode to the centre of the semicircle and waited for its retinue to settle. The fiends in the Sovereign’s colours were forced to their knees, and Mickie realised belatedly who they were. Messengers sent to meet with the incoming enforcers, like the one who walked with the group they had trailed.

Figures began to appear on the pillar’s balconies, demons in the Sovereign’s colours stepping forward to glare upon the unfolding spectacle. Belphegor smiled confidently up at them, waiting until all movement had ceased before speaking.

‘Hello friends, how nice it is to see you mingling with us folk in the lower circles.’

The sound of the lord’s voice turned a handle in the back of Mickie’s brain, one he had not known was there. A spike of panic coursed through the branded man, it was the urge to run, and the knowledge that he could not. A remnant of his time spent in the bowels of the arena. Hours spent with nothing but Belphegor’s ramblings and Illiath’s cold presence. Mickie crushed the emotions, pushing them away with a spike of anger. He had escaped Belphegor, had killed Illiath. They would have no further hold over him.

Below the old lord had let the silence drag following its words, perhaps waiting for a response that never came. If its failure to garner any attention miffed Belphegor, the fiend did not show it.

‘Come now, there’s no need for this tension between us. I came for a chat, so how about we hash things out? Are all not united under the grace given Sovereign?’

It spoke the last final words with a faux pomposity that finally dragged a reaction from its stoic opposition.

‘Belphegor. You have overstepped, and by far too much this time. The Sovereign will see you fall for this.’

A demon had pushed its way to the front on one of the higher balconies. It was a tall creature, a beast with the body of a human, the head of a monkey, and several reptilian tales flicking behind it.

‘Amalgal, is that you? Ever the vain little spliceling aren’t you?’

Beside him Kalistra’s breath caught, and she leaned in close, whispering low.

‘That’s a chimera.’

Mickie nodded, showing he understood, but not knowing why it was such a big deal. The gorgon seemed to think he was missing something because she sighed, leaning in again.

‘It’s a chimera under the Sovereign’s command, they all belong to the same division.’

This time he settled for giving her a blank look.

‘Under Asmodeus.’

She finished, dropping the words like a judge’s gavel.

‘I don’t know who that is.’

Mickie replied dryly, and Kalistra rolled her eyes in exasperation. Before she could explain any further, they were both drawn back to the confrontation.

‘Go back to the eighth Belphegor. You have nothing to gain from confronting us.’

‘Oh, believe me, I shall. But first, I’m going to need you to return something to me.’

‘And what would that…’

The chimera, Amalgal, was cut off as a figure stumbled forward into the light of its balcony. Unlike the other demons holed up at the pillar, this one had no colours adorning its body. Instead, it was comprised of gleaming chitin, and spoke with a familiar buzz.

‘Belphegor! You underhanded wretch! You will suffer for what you did to our mother.’

An insect from the hive, Mickie realised with start. It seemed that the hunting party they spotted had failed to silence all the loose tongues. On the balcony Amalgal caught the insect about the neck and tossed it bodily back into the shadows. The chimera turned sharply back to the old lord, straightening a rumple in its uniform.

‘What it said is true Belphegor. We know of what you did to the Hive, and it is a step too far. You have been too greedy in amassing power for yourself, in direct contradiction to the Sovereign’s will. There shall be consequences for this.’

Belphegor laughed in delight.

‘Ah, how I have missed your ostentatious prattle. I do have to wonder though, why are you here and not bumbling along on our righteous ruler’s crusade?’

Amalgal straightened, a spike of pride hitting its spine and bleeding into its voice.

‘I am here on the Sovereign’s direct orders. This is not the first we have heard of your transgressions Belphegor. We know you have been skulking about the seventh for some time. Now that you are here, perhaps you can aid in our investigation.’

For the first time, the smartly dressed fiend seemed taken aback. Just as Mickie saw it, so did the chimera.

‘Don’t tell me you thought you were being subtle? The Sovereign’s reach is long, and its eyes many. We would know what it is you have been travelling up here for.’

There was a hint of glee in the demon’s voice now, and perhaps that was what caused it to miss the danger in Belphegor’s response.

‘Unlike you, I do not serve the Sovereign. I am old cohort, the Sloth of the Seven, and I do as I wish.’

‘You may have flaunted Lucifer’s command without reprisal, but Mizaraphel is not so weak. You should stand down and explain yourself, perhaps then the Sovereign may let you live.’

Belphegor laughed again, but this time there was no joy in it. A low, huffing chuckle that echoed through the dead quiet of the open space.

‘I have a better idea.’

The old lord waved a lazy hand towards the captive messengers, all kneeling with heavyset enforcers standing guard behind them. In a ragged, uncoordinated line the demons withdrew an assortment of sharp weapons and implements. Belphegor looked up to the balcony and smiled as the captives all had their heads removed, waiting until the grisly work was done before speaking.

‘Amalgal, my friend, that is what I think of the Sovereign’s authority.’

The monkey faced chimera let loose a shriek of outrage and leant out over the balcony to berate Belphegor. However, it hardly got more than a word out before the repeated crack of gunfire rang through the plaza. All the hidden snipers on the various rooftops had fired upon Amalgal, and the demon’s head disappeared in a gory cloud. There was a long, silent moment as every pair of eyes watched the headless corpse topple forward, over the balcony’s barrier and towards the rocky ground. It trailed blood in a crimson line as it went, meeting the hard stones with a wet splat that shook the observers from their reveries.

Up in the tower a call to fire went out. Gunshots began to rain down on Belphegor’s position, but the demon hardly seemed to notice. Mickie wondered if the weapons could even penetrate the old monster’s skin as it strolled back to its huddled forces.

‘We need to go, they’ll be searching the rooftops.’

Kalistra hissed into his ear. They clambered back towards the street as the battle got underway, both sides hammering fire at one another. Mickie attempted to make sense of Belphegor’s actions as he climbed. If the old lord had wanted to break from the Sovereign’s authority, there surely should have been better way to go about doing it.

All that killing the captives and Amalgum would achieve was ensuring the remaining forces stayed holed up in the exit pillar. Too angry to flee and too pinned to try an attack. The brutish display of power did not mesh with the cunning lord that Mickie knew. Belphegor was a creature that had plans within plans. It likely meant there was some secondary objective to the attack that he could not puzzle out.

Reaching the bloodstained cobbles of the city street, Mickie paused and waited for Kalistra to join him. The gorgon dropped the last few feet, landing with a hard thud that knocked her glasses askew. Pushing them back onto her face, she straightened.

‘Well, I cannot say I expected that to happen. Not sure it helps us either.’

Mickie pulled his thoughts away from Belphegor.

‘Yeah, I doubt charging through the killing field for the entrance would be a good idea.’

A sudden thought came to him.

‘But what about the balconies?’

‘You mean climbing out way inside? Didn’t I already tell you the pillar would have inscriptions like the walls?’

‘Sure.’

Mickie said, rubbing his chin.

‘But if it’s some kind of alarm system, it’s probably already going ballistic. There’s a small army shooting at the rock as we speak.’

His point was punctuated by shouts and the rattle of gunfire. Kalistra frowned in thought, clawed fingers drumming her thigh.

‘I suppose. The runes here are likely old.’

She sighed.

‘Sure, lets give it a go. I don’t see how else we could make our way inside.’

The duo circled the towering pillar, away from the plaza and into an area where the city pressed right up against its steep surface. Here the balconies hung scattered above the squat rooftops, infrequent and unoccupied. The only issue with these entry points, was their unreasonable height. Mickie and Kalistra would need to clamber up quite a distance to get into the pilar, a process that would leave them vulnerable for far too long. So, the duo searched, winding their way through the empty city streets while looking for a low hanging balcony. It was due to this exploration, that they found something else entirely.

‘It has to be a trap, right?’

Mickie murmured, peering about the corner of an intersection and down a broad avenue.

‘Maybe, but Belphegor’s attack was a surprise. The Soverieign’s forces should not have had time to lay a trap.’

Kalistra replied, just as quietly. The focus of the attention was a point at which the broad street met the pillar. A low set pair of doors lay open, unguarded and unoccupied. Mickie examined the service entrance like it was someone he suspected of lying, hunting for tells amongst the shadowy recesses. In the distance the sounds of battle still echoed, as if to remind him that yes, this was the very same stone pillar that was currently being fought over.

‘Do we try it?’

He asked at length, giving Kalistra a look that matched the gorgon’s unease.

‘I don’t know.’

She shifted her attention from him to the distant balconies, high above the city.

‘Is it more of a risk than trying to climb?’

Mickie went silent for a time, weighing the options and finding neither to be particularly pleasant.

‘You know what, let’s back ourselves.’

He said.

‘Even if we try to climb up, there’s no guarantee the inscriptions won’t rat us out. If I’m going to fight, I’d prefer not to be climbing when I do.’

Beside him the gorgon nodded slowly, her slitted gaze fixed upon the service entrance.

‘Faster this way too.’

She straightened and stepped out into the open street, Mickie right on her heels. The pair made their way towards the open doors, moving slow and keeping to the shadows where they could. All that greeted their approach was silence, the darkened recess into the pillar revealing nothing. The open entrance was far too good to be true. Mickie’s nerves thrummed a taut chord, expecting a blow that never came. The walk leading to the entrance should have made for a good ambush point, with buildings to house any number of assailants lining the street. Yet nothing disturbed their approach, and soon enough he and Kalistra were scuttling past the open doors and into the pillar.

Once inside the tension ratcheted up even further. Mickie kept expecting every shadow to house an angry demon, and every corner to be an ambush in waiting. When something did appear, he almost fired on it out of sheer anticipation. They had rounded a corner and come across a mass of huddled forms, lining the dimly lit hall of carved stone. After his initial reaction had faded, Mickie realised that none of the hunched figures were moving.

‘They are all the Sovereign’s.’

Kalistra spoke softly, but the words held a wary weight. She approached one of the hunched bodies and poked it with a foot, the mass not so much as twitching. Mickie moved forward cautiously, seeing that his companion had been correct. Every one of the figures was clad in the colours of Hell’s current ruler. Not only that, but there was red mixed in amongst the white and blue, the deep crimson of blood. There had been a force stationed at the service passage, but something had already killed them.

‘Welp. At least we know now why the doors were open.’

Mickie said, straightening from the dead body of a tall demon.

‘I imagine Belphegor is behind this.’

Kalistra replied from nearby.

‘I’d say so. Give’s the attack on the tower some context too.’

‘A distraction?’

Mickie nodded.

‘Yep, and seeing as no one has come to check in on this lot, it was an effective one.’

There had to be at least a dozen demons strewn throughout the hall, but it did not take the duo long to confirm they were all dead. Mickie noted the wounds were not caused by bullets. These soldiers had died from ragged gashes, as if they had leant against the blades of a meat grinder. It filled him with a mixture of relief and trepidation. There was no trap lying in wait for them, though perhaps something worse was ahead.

With nothing further to gain from the bodies, he and Kalistra continued onwards. They walked the halls in silence for a time, listening as the sound of combat faded to nothing. Twice more the duo came across a group of dead demons, and both times there was no sign of what had caused the damage. Finishing his inspection of the final body in the second group, Mickie glanced up at an odd sound coming from the hall ahead. It was high and piercing, dragging out like the wail of an angry rodent.

‘Did you hear that?’

‘Hear what?’

Mickie did not get the chance to elaborate as a small figure hurtled around the corner ahead of them. It let lose another cry as it charged, before skidding to a stop in front of the branded man. The new arrival was short, red, and very familiar to the branded man.

‘Mag? What are you doing here?’

Miz-Mag was gasping for air, staring up at Mickie with frantic eyes. The tiny fiend gawped for a few moments, caught between trying to speak and regaining its breath.

‘Kid? What are you? By the blood! You, you can’t, you gotta, we gotta…’

His partner trailed off as a distant thudding echoed through the halls. Miz-Mag cast a terrified look over its shoulder.

‘Mag, you alright? You seem a tad spooked.’

‘Oh, by the blood, it’s coming. We got to run, get out of the pillar. You shouldn’t have come here, should have waited for me.’

In the distance the thudding was growing louder, something heavy approaching at speed.

‘What do you mean leave the tower? This is our way out of here.’

‘Forget that!’

Miz-Mag wailed, stumbling towards him with its eyes locked on the path ahead.

‘The plan is a no go. Belphegor’s too many steps ahead. Whole thing is a trap. We need to run.’

Mickie’s mind raced with questions. Why was Miz-Mag here? What had it been doing? How was this a trap? What was that loud thudding noise? As it turned out, he was due to receive a few answers. Following in the little demons wake through the stone passage, a massive figure flew around the corner. It slammed into a wall with an almighty crash, sending shards of rock out in a rain.

The thing was a monster of shifting black plates, a multi limbed giant made of metal and fuelled by malice. It turned slowly to gaze upon them, and Mickie came face to face with a pair of gemstone eyes that were eerily familiar.

‘Machine.’

Mickie whispered, and the monster took a heavy, thudding step forward. The moment its metal paw touched stone the world shook. For a moment Mickie thought it was the robot’s doing, that it was powerful enough to shake the entire pillar. Then a thunderclap hit his ears, sending the mortal staggering back into Kalistra. The air was suddenly filled with the roar of a wrathful god. Mickie tried to regain his footing, but the stone bucked hard, throwing him against a wall.

Ahead, he dimly noted, the robot had not approached any further. It stood stationary, metal limbs outstretched to the walls as the world shook. Not the machine then, something else. Mickie wanted to question Miz-Mag further, but he could hardly hear over the calamitous sound. Nearby, his little partner was huddled in cold embrace of a dead demon, eyes wide and mouth open.

‘Oh boy.’

The tiny fiend muttered.

‘We sure are in for it this time kid.’