The rattle of chains echoed through the cavernous prison. Ziz had shifted ever so slightly in the silence following its request, and the resulting clamour made conversation all but impossible. Mickie could not risk looking at Kalistra’s unprotected face to gauge her reaction. Even so, he could guess at the shock and outrage boiling within his ally. It showed through her serpentine hair, the snakes hissing and writhing as if they were being electrocuted.

It had been at most a few days since Kalistra’s contract with Illiath was served, and now here she was again. The arrogance of the giant primordial was so astonishing that Mickie almost laughed. After giving them that huge speech on the impurity of contracts, and calling Mickie an abomination, it was attempting to make a deal. Once the clamour of shifting chains had settled, silence fell over the group in a tense veil. All eyes were upon the gorgon, awaiting her response.

‘In my tribe we honour the three. To us, you were those who came before the disease of the current demons. Where they are ruled by their desires, you were above such things. You simply were. A pure force, one to be admired.’

Her voice was cold. It contained an anger that Mickie knew all too well, the indignation of belief betrayed.

‘We are such…’

Ziz started but was cut off.

‘When I sacrificed, I thought of you. Of Leviathan and Behemoth. My people held ourselves above base desire, above the rampant ego of the masses. We did so in the image of the three.’

The gorgon’s chest heaved as if she struggled for air.

‘And now I have the privilege of meeting one of you. Only to find you driven by the desires of the demons that imprisoned you.’

‘I AM NO DEMON.’

The air boomed with the response, and the roar of chains filled the air as the giant writhed in anger.

‘You would be wise to remember what I am, gorgon.’

‘Or what? You will twist about in your hanging cage? Yell and scream like a fresh spawnling?’

There was venom in the words, and Kalistra spat them like they could hurt the primordial. Ziz recoiled as if they had, before going limp in its bonds.

‘I know what it is that I ask of you, and I know the price you paid for your people.’

Kalistra flinched like she had been slapped. Mickie glanced between the gorgon and the giant, certain he was missing something.

‘I see much. I saw you in the arena. I know of your prowess and your worth.’

The giant spoke softly now, as if to an angry animal.

‘I know that if you wish to succeed at what comes next, you are going to need power.’

Silence settled over the group, as heavy as the darkness beyond their orb lamp’s little ball of light.

‘You would use them against me? My own people?’

Kalistra asked the giant, her voice hardly more than a whisper.

‘I have been imprisoned for over a century; a creature of the skies entombed within stone. There is little I would not do to be free.’

The gorgon hesitated, whatever had happened with her people, it was obviously significant enough to have her reconsider her own freedom. Mickie saw how the oversized eagle was controlling the conversation and decided to through a spanner in the works.

‘Kalistra, we’ve made it this far, all the way to the seventh. I made it through the castle on the ninth with only Mag. Whatever comes next, it can’t be worse than what we’ve already been through.’

Ziz’s eyes fell upon him like a physical weight.

‘So you say, but the easy paths are gone. If you are to ascend you will have to walk the Labyrinth. There are things old as I am within the sixth circle.’

The giant shifted its attention back to Kalistra.

‘You seem to be under the impression I wish to chain you with a contract. Let me assure you, I do not. Magareem is not the only one who remembers the ways to bind a soul.’

Kalistra considered the avian eye for a time before barking out a short laugh.

‘Yes, how free I would be. Do you think I have not seen how Mickie is bound to climb?’

‘Our binding will not be as his is. I wish to leave this place and begin my cycle anew. I would involve you in that process. There was a time that mortals and spawn alike would spill rivers of blood for the honour.’

‘I’ve never heard anything like that. Why would anyone line up for a binding?’

Kalistra asked, her puzzlement.

‘Do you not recall our prior discussion on soul bindings? To tie your soul to the cycle of Ziz is to influence the path it would take.’

‘You’ve mentioned that a few times now. What do you mean, cycle of Ziz?’

Mickie cut in to the conversation to enquire. It was Kalistra that answered.

‘It is part of Ziz’s nature. I am unsure of the specifics, but it can reincarnate its soul, escaping any bindings and beginning anew.’

‘Wait, why doesn’t it just do that then? Why does it need you to escape?’

The great avian released a heavy sigh.

‘The cycle was locked away when I was bound here by Magareem’s thralls. Only after Belphegor meddled with my prison have I gained the leeway to undergo the cycle. However, I can not risk being caught in the early stages, when I am most vulnerable.’

Ziz’s attention fixed back upon Kalistra.

‘My reincarnation will require protection and guidance; you will need power. We require one another, the binding between us is suitable.’

It seemed that the gorgon’s resolve was beginning to waver. Ziz fell upon her hesitation like a fox upon an injured rabbit.

‘Power is not all I offer. You have just lost your path of ascent. Bind with me, and I will inform you of another, one of which neither Belphegor or the Sovereign are aware exists.’

‘By the blood you hearing this kid? Hell of a sales pitch.’

Miz-Mag had poked its head out of his jacket pocket and was eyeing Ziz with a heavy dose of scepticism.

‘You would question the worth of my dealing’s demon? You who has brought such a perversity of a binding before me?’

Mickie’s partner shrank back from the primordial’s full attention. It was the first time something other than Mickie had seen the little demon without the gemstone eyes. The branded man wondered if this was the very creature that the Soul Lord had based its artificial vision on.

‘Bind with me and shape the cycle, Kalistra of the Gorgons.’

‘I…’

‘I will grant you sight to pierce the unseen, rejuvenation beyond any other demon.’

The branded man wanted to shout down the giant avian, but found the rebuke stuck on his tongue. Who was he to question Kalistra’s choices? To tell her not to take the binding when he himself had done so. Ziz let silence hang for a moment, before delivering its final offering.

‘Bind with me, and I will give you control of your curse.’

The words fell upon Kalistra like a bolt of lightning. She had been glaring hard at the steel floor, but her attention startled back to the elongated giant.

‘Yes. I know of your people’s search. A cure for the incurable. I can offer it to you. A path to help your people beyond your sacrifice.’

Mickie saw the moment the last of Kalistra’s anger gave out, her reluctance broken under the weight of the primordial’s promises.

‘What would be the terms of our binding?’

The hollow cadence to her tone finally broke Mickie’s hesitation to speak.

‘Kalistra, are you sure about this? You only just got free.’

Ziz had begun to answer the gorgon’s question but fell silent as Mickie spoke. It eyed him with something that must have been irritation, but allowed Kalistra the time to think.

‘There are things you don’t know Mickie. When I decided to escape with you I…’

She paused, appeared to gather herself.

‘I, I’m going to need this power. I’ve seen what your bond provides, and it is far more than a normal deal.’

Kalistra returned her attention to Ziz, and when she spoke, she sounded sure of herself.

‘What would be the terms of the binding.’

A growl echoed out of the avian’s throat, a primeval sound of pleasure.

‘I have just told you of the powers you shall receive. In return you must protect and support me through the cycle. Guide me to the places of power that facilitate my growth.’

‘Places of power? What are they?’

‘Locations in which the very essence of Hell bleeds forth to nourish the nine circles. There is one on the sands that you will be required to visit first.’

That was rather cryptic. Though Mickie figured at this stage mystery was par for the course when it came to bindings.

‘And the others?’

Kalistra asked.

‘The binding will guide you when you are close.’

‘Very well. So, I help you through your next cycle in exchange for power. Is there anything else.’

‘There is not.’

Ziz paused, and when it next spoke there was a hint of melancholy in its projected voice.

‘I know you would prefer to remain unbound, but I am not Magareem. Only out of need do I offer this deal.’

Kalistra took a deep breath before stepping towards the chained giant.

‘Yeah, okay. Let’s just get this done.’

‘Very well.’

As the gorgon approached the avian’s huge head, Mickie felt something shift in the air. It was like there were unseen currents forming. They pulled with a gravity of their own towards Kalistra and Ziz.

‘Kalistra of the Gorgons, I offer you a deal. You shall escort me through the cycle, and in exchange I shall grant you the power to do so. Do you accept this binding?’

Time seemed to stand still for a moment, the light from their small lamp reflecting off the bronze of Kalistra’s scales. In front of her Ziz’s massive iris yawned like an open mouth into the abyss.

‘I do.’

The unseen currents pulsed, reverberating like a plucked guitar string. For a moment Mickie swore he could see the souls as they were bound. Kalistra’s a vibrant ball of force, Ziz’s a shallow ocean. Their joining was not so much an intertwining as it was a calamitous collision. Kalistra’s scream pulled him back to reality, and he found her double over the ground in a shuddering wreak.

‘Ah, memories, huh kid?’

Without his noticing Miz-Mag had returned to its perch upon his shoulder. The little fiend was patting his ear with an expression of indulgent nostalgia. Mickie got the urge to toss the little demon through the hole in the floor.

‘One day, I hope you have to go through that crap too.’

Kalistra’s agony lasted for what had to have been the most painful few minutes of her life. The only sign it had ended was the cessation of her writhing. She lay still, curled into a ball upon the steel floor.

‘It is done. All that remains is to commence the cycle.’

Ziz’s voice sounded weak, warbling as if it were having trouble shaping the air.

‘A final word, abomination.’

The massive eye shifted in Mickie’s direction, but it was like the creature could not see him.

‘You should know of some ruins amongst the sands, near the broken plateau. If you should need allies, seek them there.’

A shudder ran through the giant with a clanking of chains.

‘But first. The place of power. It hides the way to the sixth circle. Go there, awaken the old paths. You, are the key.’

‘Wait, what?’

‘What, is done.’

Ziz all but gasped.

‘Cannot be, undone. Such, is the cycle.’

This was the second time a key had been mentioned since Mickie had arrived upon the seventh circle. He called out to Ziz, attempting in vain to get an explanation from the giant. Red light filled the prison chamber as chains started to glow, emanating a vibrant heat.

As feathers began to burn Ziz opened its giant beak. A sound, something like a mixture between a cough and a laugh was emitted. There was a clang of steel meeting steel as the spikes driven into the base of its head ripped free. Blood followed, spilling onto the platform and forming a pool that stirred the visceral hunger within Mickie.

The branded man suppressed his urges, taking a step back as Ziz continued to hack and cough. It was as if the big bird were choking on something and trying to clear its throat. The chains had burned their way through the feathers and now the air was filled with the scent of roasting flesh. Mickie realised something was visible in Ziz’s open mouth. A mass, dark and glistening, that boiled forward with each heave of the giant.

With a final, shuddering effort, the avian forced the mess out of its body and into the light of their lamp. It splattered into the growing pool of blood, creating a small wave. Droplets of red landed upon Kalistra’s huddled form, finally breaking the gorgon out of her shaky convalescence. The mass that Ziz had vomited looked something like an oversized hairball, but one composed of glistening feathers.

As Kalistra rose to her knees something rolled out of the sticky mass, thudding into the blood before coming to a stop near the gorgon. It was a grey, egg-shaped object, though longer than Mickie’s forearm. The surface of the thing appeared to be made from tough skin or scales. Kalistra stepped into the blood, approaching the large oval as Ziz shuddered out a breath.

‘It is done.’

The voice was weak, hardly more than a whisper on a windy day. With an effort that looked beyond titanic, Ziz watched as Kalistra collected the strange object and held it up.

‘And so, the cycle begins anew.’

With that, the giant’s eye closed, and its body went still. For a time, the only sound was the dripping of blood and the sizzle of flesh. Even with their captive dead, the chains that bound Ziz seemed intent of inflicting whatever arcane punishment had been carved into them. Mickie watched the scene in half a daze, still fighting back the driving hunger for the blood. He wondered if the rune carved bonds would burn right through Ziz’s remains. If they did, then eighth circle would soon receive a delivery of overlarge and overcooked avian straight out of the sky.

Kalistra turned from the body of the primordial and walked towards him. Her head was tilted downwards, hair limp and lifeless. Red footsteps marked her path out of the blood puddle, the strange egg-shaped object still cradled in an arm. Mickie watched her approach with apprehension, uncertain how well his was holding up after the binding.

‘That.’

The gorgon said.

‘Was one of the worst things I have ever experienced.’

Mickie chuckled.

‘Yeah, well try it…’

His response stuttered to a halt as Kalistra abruptly looked up and into his eyes. The movement was so casual, so fluid, that Mickie had no time to react. There was a moment of shocked fear, followed by confusion as nothing happened. Then his brain circled back round to their conversation with Ziz.

‘Control, huh.’

Mickie murmured. Kalistra’s eyes had captured his attention, still bronze but distinctly different to those he had seen behind the aviators. Instead of serpentine slits her irises were rounded and large, pushing the sclera completely out sight. Her pupils were twin circles of black that drank in the lamp light.

‘Your eyes, they’re like Ziz’s…’

He shook himself.

‘That was risky. How did you know I wouldn’t turn to stone?’

‘It is odd. I simply knew you would not be harmed, not unless I wished for you to be.’

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

Kalistra grinned and her attention shifted, away from him and towards the red demon huddled upon his shoulder.

‘And you must be Miz-Mag. A pleasure to finally meet you.’

Mickie’s miniature partner spluttered.

‘I, well uh, by the blood. You can see me?’

‘Indeed.’

‘And, you uh, you can hear me.’

‘I believe this conversation has made that readily apparent.’

‘Well, isn’t that something.’

The serpents that formed Kalistra twisted about curiously, scenting the air near Mickie’s partner. The tiny demon shrank back, shielding behind his ear.

‘Yes, I’m still growing accustomed to it myself. I do look forward to chatting with you though.’

‘Ehh, likewise.’

Miz-Mag squeaked from its makeshift hiding place. Mickie decided to help the little guy out, and made a gesture towards the oval shaped object in the gorgon’s hands.

‘Is that what I think it is?’

Kalistra’s expanded pupils flickered to the uneven ball of grey material.

‘Yes, I can feel it. This is Ziz.’

‘That’s… That’s rather dramatic. It must really have wanted out of the prison if it was willing to turn itself back into an egg.’

She only nodded. Feeling a little less put upon, Miz-Mag poked its head around from behind his ear.

‘You ever hear the question about the chicken and the egg?’

The comparison was so apt, that Mickie could not stop himself from barking out a laugh. Kalistra smiled faintly and her hand drifted to her chest, rubbing a spot just below the line of her shoulders. Mickie recognised the motion and sobered. He did the same thing with the lumpen flesh on the back of his branded hand.

‘Are you alright?’

Kalistra took a moment to answer, looking up towards the dark ceiling.

‘It’s just, the binding, I should be happy with it. The power to protect my tribe, control over the curse that has plagued us for so long. It’s more than I ever expected to attain, more than I deserve.’

She took a deep, steadying breath.

‘And yet…’

‘You are bound again.’

Mickie finished, receiving a shaky nod.

‘Yes. After so long under Illiath’s thumb and in the arena, I was finally free. Now though, here I am again.’

The gorgon sighed and hooked a clawed finger into the collar of the short provided to her by the urchins. She drew it down slightly to reveal the new brand marked upon her flesh. While Illiath’s mark had been a dark tattoo upon her forehead, this one was much simpler and more visceral. It was a scar like Mickie’s; a single, vertical line of puckered flesh that looked as if she had been scratched by a sharp talon.

‘That’s rather plain. I gotta say kid, ours has more style.’

Miz-Mag commented from its perch.

‘I don’t know.’

The branded man responded thoughtfully.

‘There is elegance in simplicity.’

His partner scoffed and Kalistra removed her hand, covering the brand with her shirt. She smiled softly at the two of them.

‘I must admit I am glad to no longer hear only half a conversation.’

‘I’ll say, and the worse half at that.’

Miz-Mag agreed, broadening the gorgon’s smile ever so slightly. She turned back to the gigantic barbeque that was Ziz’s old body.

‘As much as I would like more time to gather myself, I do believe we should leave while we have the chance. If Belphegor was willing to destroy the pillar to hide this place, then I imagine it has some method to monitor what occurs here.’

Mickie started. In all the excitement he had forgotten the cause for their presence within the primordial’s prison. Even if the old lord had not realised its prize was loose, it likely would soon. You did not drop a pillar over the head of your prisoner without planning to check up on it. Who knew how long they had before the enforcers arrived.

‘Yeah, we should probably make ourselves scarce.’

The branded man turned and squinted between hulking pieces of equipment. Even with the added light from the chains, the cavern was too large to be completely illuminated.

‘Any chance Ziz told you about an exit before it turned into an egg?’

‘As a matter of fact.’

Kalistra smiled and hefted her burden.

‘It did.’

----------------------------------------

The newly marked gorgon led the small group through the prison cavern. She walked with a surety that Mickie could not match, cautious as he was of the giant holes in the floor. The branded man figured she probably had gotten some level of improved vision in the darkness. If his theory was right, and the Soul Lord based its gemstone eyes off the abilities of Ziz, then Kalistra would probably be able to navigate with no light at all soon.

Occasionally the gorgon would pause, allowing him to catch up before continuing. It was hard to judge in the dark, but Mickie felt they were heading in a different direction to that of their arrival. Whatever information Ziz had managed to impart upon his ally, it was enough that she was certain of their exit. When the giant’s body was nothing more than a stretch of intermingles red lines, the group reached the cavern wall. Kalistra led them through a narrow passage carved into the stone, finally coming to a stop beside a wall of steel.

‘Strange. This should be our way out.’

Mickie stopped beside her, just managing to fit shoulder to shoulder in the cramped tunnel.

‘Could the way have been blocked without Ziz realising?’

‘No, maybe some other creature, but Ziz could observe what was happening on other circles when it awoke. This should have been no obstacle.’

She rested a hand upon the barrier.

‘There are Transcriptions here. They are embedded, and subtle.’

‘What’s the vibe this time?’

Miz-Mag asked, and Kalistra hummed thoughtfully.

‘I’m not certain. Dormancy perhaps? Almost like they’re asleep.’

Mickie frowned in thought. He reached out a hand and rested it upon the wall of metal. A jolt ran through him, like a small charge of electricity. He got the sudden feeling he was being watched, countless eyes crawling across his flesh. A deep, reverberating echo rang through the barrier and Mickie tore his arm away. Before he had time to process what had happened the wall was moving, sliding aside to reveal a small chamber.

‘By the blood kid, what did you do?’

‘I… I don’t know.’

As he spoke though, something occurred to him.

‘You, are the key.’

Ziz’s last words echoed through his mind, leaving a sense of foreboding in their wake.

‘The runes have changed, woken up.’

Kalistra murmured, and turned her overlarge bronze irises upon him.

‘Perhaps Belphegor has not uncovered all of the Soul Lord’s secrets.’

The group entered the chambers, finding themselves in a small cylindrical space that look suspiciously like the interior of a machine. The walls were all steel, with pipework snaking through them between ceiling and floor. Against the far wall was something resembling a control panel. It was a flat sheet with two strange runes carved atop one another.

‘Above, and below. At least I think that’s what the interpretation is here.’

Kalistra pointed to the to the top and bottom rune respectively. Mickie kept his distance this time, wary of the impact his touch might have upon the device. The gorgon seemed less concerned, waving him impatiently towards the markings.

‘Try it. Clearly you have some form of influence over these transcriptions, and Ziz was confident enough in this path out to impart it upon me.’

Mickie took a slow breath and glanced at Miz-Mag. The little fiend gave him a shrug.

‘Better this than whatever Belphegor’s gonna do if it catches us down here.’

The branded man reached out his marked hand and lightly touched the top symbol. There was that brief, invasive feeling of observation, before a shudder ran through the chamber. A steel barrier thudded into place over the entrance. Hidden lights in the ceiling flickered to life, casting the pipework in a web of shadows.

‘Kalistra?’

He enquired. No further elaboration was required, the gorgon knew what he was asking.

‘More runes are awakening. I feel momentum, flow maybe. Something else too… containment?’

The chamber shuddered hard and suddenly there was the sensation of movement. An invisible hand pressed Mickie downwards as they accelerated.

‘What is this?’

Kalistra muttered, and realisation struck Mickie.

‘It’s an elevator. Kind of like what we had back in the arena.’

Miz-Mag laughed in glee.

‘Finaly. It’s about time we got an easy ride.’

The chamber rumbled its way upwards through the stone. Occasionally there would be a pull in a separate direction as their heading change. Kalistra seemed confident in Ziz’s guidance, but Mickie was not so certain. He was prepared for a fight if one was required, but if Belphegor was waiting for them on the other side of the ascent, he doubted he could win. The branded man might have gained power since their last encounter, but Mickie remembered how easily the lord had broken him.

‘You know, something big bird said back there got me thinking.’

Miz-Mag said over the rumble of the elevator.

‘Oh?’

Kalistra enquired.

‘Yeah. It said something about us finding allies out in some desert ruins.’

‘I do not recall that.’

‘Well, I’m pretty sure you were on the ground screaming, so that’s not a surprise.’

Miz-Mag replied snarkily. Mickie sighed and cut in, not wanting to deal with his partner being turned to stone.

‘I remember Mag. I don’t really see how it’s relevant right now though.’

‘Alright, let me speak. I was just thinking that I remember the Sovereign’s lot saying something similar.’

‘You do? And you’re only telling us now?’

The little demon scowled at him.

‘If you didn’t notice I’ve had a bit on my plate recently.’

That, irritatingly enough, was a good point. Mickie shut his mouth and gave his partner a glare.

‘That’s what I thought. Now, if I can finish, when I was listening in on the top brass, they mentioned some pillar ruins. Said something about hearing music.’

‘Music huh…’

‘Yup.’

Mickie frowned at the floor.

‘Hey Mag, who do we know that might help us and is related to music?’

The little demon hardly needed to think about it.

‘The Kindle Kin!’

It gasped.

‘Of course, how didn’t I see it? But I thought they were staying in the palace?’

‘So did I. Looks like we were both wrong.’

Mickie tried to recall what the Conductor had said regarding the plans of the grey singers. He knew they had wanted to secure the palace, but did not know anything past that. Mickie had just assumed they would hunker down and solidify their position. A mistake in retrospect.

‘Are these the same Kindle Kin that assisted you previously?’

Kalistra asked.

‘We think so, though assisted is a bit of a stretch.’

‘And they would help us again?’

Mickie shrugged.

‘Maybe, it’s hard to say. They did seem to like me.’

The gorgon hummed.

‘Then perhaps the Kindle Kin serve as a backup plan. I am required by my binding to seek out the nearest place of power and assist Ziz in its new cycle.’

‘Fair enough. We still need to figure out the actual way out. Ziz mentioned the place of power had something to do with it.’

‘Yeah, something about you being the key, kid.’

Kalistra seemed a little taken aback by that, and Mickie threw Miz-Mag an irritated look. He would have preferred that to remain private.

‘I see. From what Ziz’s imparted to me, I get the sense that the path is there.’

The gorgon tilted her head, hesitating.

‘Except the impressions are vague, it’s almost like Ziz was unsure of the specifics.’

She did not press the branded man on the whole being a key thing, which he appreciated. In return he decided not to press her on the details of her binding, including all this additional knowledge she seemed to have gotten out of nowhere. As it turned out, Miz-Mag had no such qualms.

‘Hey Kali, how come you seem to know so much suddenly? Did Ziz dump all its memories on you?’

Kalistra gave the little demon a look.

‘Kali?’

Miz-Mag shrugged, unrepentant.

‘Well, Kalistra’s a bit of a mouth full ain’t it?’

It was amazing how quickly Mickie’s companion had shifted from being wary of the gorgon to pestering her as it did with him. The gorgon shared a look with Mickie, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards. At least she found Miz-Mag’s antics amusing.

‘Well, if you must know, when my soul intertwined with that of Ziz, I received a…’

She hesitated, searching for the right word.

‘Package of information. They are not true memories, closer to feelings and associations. Occasionally when I think of something, Ziz’s opinion of it will come forward with my own. It is rather intrusive to be honest.’

Mickie winced, wondering if she got the old primordial’s opinion of him. Seeing as Ziz had constantly called him an abomination, he doubted the associated thoughts would be pleasant. Miz-Mag started to respond, but at that moment the chamber shuddered and began to slow. They had made it back to the seventh.

As the elevator came to a stop, the trio prepared themselves for violence. They had no idea where the exit was going to be, and if it was within the pillar city things were going to get messy. The same metal door that had sealed them inside thudded out of sight with a mechanical clank. Light spilled in through the open doorway.

Hesitantly, the group moved through the threshold, finding themselves within a shallow, rocky cave. Once Mickie’s eyes adjusted to the light, he found himself looking down upon an expanse of bone white trees. Kalistra had already wandered to the cave’s mouth and was leaning out to glance around.

Mickie followed suit and discovered that the cave was situated in a stone formation, closer to a jagged hill than towering pillar. It protruded from the bone wood like a whale breaching churning seas, providing them with a good view of their surroundings. Off to one side Mickie could see the point the towing dunes broke against the craggy earth off the woods. Beyond that he could just make out the city, or what was left of it.

The pillar had collapsed like a falling tree, shearing away from the ceiling and burying a good portion of the city in rubble. Mickie wondered how many of Belphegor’s own had been caught up in the collapse. Perhaps the direction it fell had been part of the plan, and the old lord had managed to keep its force clear. Either way, the ceiling was buzzing like a beaten wasp nest. Flying machines swarmed the path beyond the seventh, little more than an impressionistic blur at this distance. He definitely did not want to travel through that.

‘Belphegor really did a number on it, huh?’

Miz-Mag muttered, and Mickie nodded his agreement. Beside them Kalistra shifted, leaning forward then raising a hand to point into the distance.

‘You see that blood lake? That’s where we need to go.’

Mickie turned and tracked his eyes in the indicated direction, he saw nothing on the horizon but bone white trees and distant pillars.

‘I think that eye upgrade might be doing more than we first thought. I got nothing.’

The little demon on Mickie’s shoulder responded after a brief search. If Miz-Mag could not see it, then he had no chance. Kalistra seemed taken aback for a moment but recovered swiftly.

‘Oh, I thought it was rather easy to spot.’

‘Makes sense.’

Mickie mused.

‘Birds tend to have pretty good eyes for distance.’

‘Yes, well, there is a large blood lake in that direction. It seems to be the right heading for the place of power.’

‘Any sign of the ruins? Didn’t Ziz say it was at some kind of ruins?’

He asked.

‘Not that I can tell. Perhaps we will see it once we travel further?’

Kalistra replied, and Mickie nodded his agreement. The climb to the cracked earth below was going to prove a challenge for the gorgon with the added burden of Ziz’s egg. She seemed confident in its durability but was wary of risky such a dangerous drop. Who knew what would happen to the big-bird’s precious cycle if it got pancaked.

To assist Mickie offered up his jacket and helped tie it into a strange backpack for the oversized oval. With the package secured the group exited the cave and climbed to the ground. It was good to feel the heat of the open air again, even if it held that same bloody tang. Entering the bone woods was something he was substantially less eager to repeat, but soon they were walking through the bleached boughs.

‘How far do you think it is to this lake?’

Mickie asked Kalistra.

‘It’s hard to judge, I am not accustomed to gauging distance with my new eyes.’

She paused to think.

‘Though if I were to guess I would say we should be able to make it before requiring rest.’

The branded man glanced at the corpse eating trees all around them.

‘That would definitely be ideal.’

They continued in silence for a time, with only the tangy wind for company. Perhaps he was yet to readjust to it, but Mickie felt taste of blood in the air had not previously been so fierce. Eventually enough time passed that Miz-Mag opted to go rest, stating it was better now than when they got to the blood lake. Mickie just thought the little demon was bored of the travel. It was not long after the little fiend had vanished that Kalistra broke the silence again.

‘I think I owe you an explanation.’

‘Hmm?’

The bone woods had reminded Mickie of the dead insect, and he had been distracted thinking of its final words.

‘I know you probably think me foolish for striking the bargain.’

Still shifting his thoughts to the new conversation, the branded man glance up to find Kalistra glaring at the ground like it owed her money.

‘What right do I have to judge you? I also made a deal.’

‘And yet, you disapprove. Do not deny it.’

Mickie frowned at his serpentine ally. He did not have a clue where she was going with this or why she was being so pushy.

‘Saying I disapprove is a stretch.’

He thought for a moment.

‘It’s just, I was surprised you were willing to give up your freedom again. I wasn’t disappointed though; I’ve seen people sacrifice worse things than themselves for power.’

‘Before you came to Hell?’

Mickie nodded.

‘At least when you made your deal it was your own soul on the line. There are far worse things than risking yourself.’

‘Like what?’

There was a hesitancy to the question that surprised Mickie. He glanced at the gorgon, meeting her eyes and seeing something that resembled fear in them. Unsure what had brought this conversation upon them, he gave his response some thought. Though in the end, there was only one answer to him, and it felt like the cold steel of a barrel against the back of his head.

‘The betrayal of someone you trusted.’

The gorgon just watched him for a moment, before softly nodding and returning her attention to the cracked earth. Mickie did not push her for a response in the intervening quiet. He could tell that Kalistra was building herself up to something.

‘My tribe. We are the last of the gorgons.’

She said, and it was hardly more than a whisper.

‘We of the cursed eyes were hunted by the Sovereign, before it even began working with the Soul Lord. We never really understood why.’

The duo ducked beneath an oddly shaped branch, and Kalistra paused briefly, examining the distant pillars to gauge their heading.

‘Our village was hidden on the fifth, tough to find and mobile. It was how we survived, at least that’s what my mother told me.’

‘She was a hunter, right?’

‘Yes, to her core. My mother taught me the skills, but I never had the drive for it like she did. I was drawn to Transcriptions.’

There was a smile in her voice when she said that, but it faded quickly.

‘One day, when she was out hunting, my mother discovered signs that there were demons scouting nearby. We moved the village, quick and quiet. Only, it did not work. Days after reaching the next site, before we had even finished setting up, another hunter discovered signs of demons. They were following us.’

‘Illiath?’

It was not a difficult guess, Mickie himself had been a victim of that particular demon’s tracking prowess.

‘Illiath.’

Kalistra confirmed, spitting the name like a curse.

‘It took a while to show itself, began to kill off our hunters.’

A pause followed as the gorgon chocked on her next few words.

‘It killed my mother.’

Such a simple statement, yet one that contained a pain deep as the abyss beneath the ninth circle. Mickie wanted to say something, give condolences maybe, but found himself unable to shake the words free. Who was he to sympathise? He, who had seen that pain in so many during his life, had been its cause more often than not.

‘Illiath killed my mother, then came to our village. It said it could guide the Sovereign to us, would be rewarded for doing so. Said we needed to provide a reason for it not to.’

The gorgon’s serpentine hair writhed, as if in agony.

‘I just wanted to protect my people, the last of my kind. I gave myself up as a prize. A deal, as long as I served Illiath, it would not lead the Sovereign to my people. But it, it was too much.’

Her voice broke, became coloured by self-loathing and desperation.

‘You remember the arena; you know what it was like. Months of blood, years of it. Blind and in chains when I was not fighting.’

It was then, finally, that Mickie realised what this was. Not just an explanation, but a confession.

‘Then you came, offered me freedom, and I…’

She took a slow, shaky breath.

‘How could I say no? I needed to leave, the arena was worse than death. And yet…’

‘Your tribe.’

Mickie finished as the gorgon trailed off.

‘Yes, I reneged on the bargain with Illiath, not in such a way that would harm me, but in a way that freed it to act upon my people.’

The branded man nodded slowly. It was not hard to puzzle out why Illiath had not bound Kalistra to the arena through their deal. Lillith’s heir had been ambitious, and likely wanted Kalistra to attempt an escape as she had. It would mean the demon could sell out the gorgon’s tribe while keeping her enslaved. The best of both worlds.

‘Illiath was overconfident. She thought she could retake you if you attempted escape, but we killed her.’

Kalistra chuckled. It was a dry sound, lacking in all mirth.

‘You killed her. It does not change the fact that I sold out my people.’

The way she said it finally clicked something into place in Mickie’s mind.

‘You think you betrayed them?’

‘I did!’

She all but shouted, wheeling about to face him.

‘I swore to them that I would endure, that they would be safe, and they believed me. Believed me because of who my mother was, because I was their golden child, their genius Transcriber.’

Her face fell.

‘And I condemned them all.’

So, this was the reason. Why Kalistra had decided to make the deal with Ziz, why she was dead set on getting back to her people as quickly as possible.

‘But Illiath is dead, it’s physically incapable of leading anyone to your tribe.’

The gorgon sighed, rubbing her face with both hands.

‘It cannot reveal them personally, sure. But do not underestimate that demon’s spite. I’m certain it had some kind of plan in place, some other way of making sure my people met their end. I need to get back to them, need to protect them.’

She turned away and started trudging onwards. The gorgon said no more, and quiet fell upon the pair like an invisible veil, heavy with expectation. Mickie realised that Kalistra had not said all of that just to inform him of her reasoning and intentions. No, that had been a confession, and as it was with all confessions, she now waited for him to pass judgement. The branded man felt a strange, abrupt need to laugh. He had not been joking earlier, there was no one with less right to judge the actions of others than him.

‘It’s not a betrayal.’

‘What’s that?’

Instead of speaking on impulse, Mickie had let the silence hang, taking his time to formulate a response. When he did finally speak, Kalistra jumped like a bee had just stung her.

‘What you did, taking the opportunity to be free, you seem to think it was a betrayal of your people.’

Mickie stopped walking, and the gorgon soon followed suit. She turned to face him; expression pained.

‘It was. I was the hand holding up the executioner’s axe, and I let go.’

‘You did, but you gave them time. Do you think your tribe was idle while you were in the arena? Do you think they would have huddled in the corner while you heaped all the suffering upon yourself?’

‘I…’

‘That’s not what family is. If you were willing to give up that much for them, then how much do you think they were willing to give up for you?’

Mickie was asking questions, but not giving Kalistra a chance to respond. He felt something hot in his chest, a coal that always burned and now grew hot.

‘I bet they’ve been waiting for you to return, using the time you gave them to prepare.’

The branded man attempted to slow, to cool the anger.

‘What you did was not a betrayal. Not when you act for your people even still.’

Kalistra’s expression was troubled, unconvinced. He knew what she had expected condemnations. She had probably half dreaded, half wanted them with that guilt riddled desire he knew too well.

‘If it is not betrayal, then what is it?’

Mickie met her eyes. The gorgon’s bronze irises seemed to swallow her pupils as she focused upon him.

‘Loyalty.’

The word was like the whisper of an pleasant memory. Sweet, nostalgic, and impossible to ever have again. Kalistra held his gaze for a long few moments, before a small smile teased at the corners of her mouth.

‘You really think that? Breaking my word with Illiath is somehow a show of loyalty?’

‘Yes, loyalty is more than a single choice, a moment of weakness. What you do now, you do to help your people, to return to them. That is loyalty.’

Mickie could tell she did not believe him, not really. But that was fine. Perhaps in time, when they reached her tribe, Kalistra would see that he was right. The branded man had been where she stood, had sacrificed himself for others, driven by guilt and need for redemption. Mickie had learnt the meaning of true betrayal, and it was a hell of a life lesson. Finally breaking eye contact with him, the gorgon released a long sigh.

‘You know, for someone sent to the bottom of Hell, you can be downright virtuous at times Mickie.’

The branded man barked out a laugh, shaking off the melancholy.

‘I got to say that’s the first time anyone’s said that about me.’

The tilt to Kalistra’s lips shifted to a proper smile.

‘Truly? It must be Hell then. I’ve been told the standards are rather low down here.’

Mickie returned the smile, and the pair shifted their attention back to the path ahead. It was still a long way to the blood lake, and he had no doubt Belphegor would soon be combing the desert raw to find them. The branded man ducked beneath yet another bony branch and found his thoughts drifting back to the time before Hell. Of the life he had lived, and the events leading to his death.

Back when he had first arrived in the castle, Mickie had lost himself. Out on the ice of the white wastes, he had thought he did not deserve this fate. That was laughable, and he knew it. When everyone else showed up at the gates of hell, Mickie was the one who got sent right to the bottom. That was the truth of it. And yet…

‘Virtuous, huh.’

There was a first time for everything.