The two humans fled through the opulent halls, cleaning implements in hand. At any moment Mickie expected to feel a gaze upon his back, peeling him apart like string cheese. Just ahead of him, Aria was moving with silent purpose, head down to avoid the ire of any imps they passed. From behind came a rising commotion, shouts and the clatter of running feet upon tiles.
‘…stupid fool dead ahead…’
‘…late for my…’
‘…don’t care, just get them…’
The shrill voices echoed up the hall, causing some of the demonic passerby’s to pause and listen. Aria reacted instantly to the sounds of pursuit, turning towards a nearby door and ushering him through. Following along behind, Mickie found himself within a space that appeared to be an opulent conference room. Sitting about a long, rectangular table were four imps, all turning from a projected display to peer at them. Beside him Aria had stiffened, clearly having hoped the room was going to be vacant.
‘Humans. Why are you intruding on our discussion?’
Standing beside the projected display was an angry looking imp, glaring at them from across the table. When Aria failed to answer, Mickie decided it was time to step up. He slowly moved forward; head bowed.
‘Apologies. Our task master informed us of a serious mess within this room.’
An Imp sitting at the table glanced in an exaggerated manner.
‘I fail to see any worthy mess human. You are interrupting an important meeting of Palace security. There will be consequences for this.’
From outside there was a growing clamour as the chase grew closer. While Mickie could hope that no demons outside had noted their direction, he was not willing to bet on it. With steady steps he approached the front of the room.
‘Our task master informed us the mess had been concealed. If I might simply confirm its existence and deal with any cleanup?’
Somehow, the intense red on the presenting Imp’s face was taking on an even brighter hue.
‘No Human! We have informed you that there is no mess. You will vacate this room and report to the punishment suite!’
Mickie had made it to the front of the room and was standing by the group of demons in a submissive slouch. Over by the door Aria was alternating horrified looks between him and the imps. Occasionally she would turn nervously towards the growing racket outside.
‘Aria, get the door please.’
He locked eyes with the older woman.
‘I think a chair would be an effective measure.’
Hopefully his companion would catch the intention behind the request. Judging by the ranting imp leader, the room’s other occupants had certainly had not.
‘Impudent mortal. You dare to speak past your betters within their presence. You dare insult me. I will have to personally deliver your punishment. Come forward.’
The small creature was fuming and screeching in rage, like a child throwing a tantrum in public. Mickie glance towards the door and found Aria wedging a chair beneath the handle. He also noticed one of the imps at the table frowning in her direction. A shame, he had hoped that the fiends would keep their focus on him. At the very least the leader seemed intent on him alone.
‘Yes. Kneel before me. You fail to see a tidy room. If your eyes are that useless then I will take one from you.’
Mickie summoned his gun and shot the imp that had taken an interest in Aria’s actions. The demon’s head and shoulders vanished in a spray of gore, taking the top of its chair as well. Without giving the room’s occupants time to act, he threw the gun at another imp sitting by the table. While not fatal, the weapon was a bulky lump of metal, drawing a pained wail is it connected with the fiend’s head. Standing before him the leader of the meeting gawped in surprise.
‘H-human what…’
The exclamation was cut off as Mickie drove his mop handle into the creature’s head, warping the steel shaft with the blow’s force. The imp staggered and fell to the floor, where Mickie proceeded to wail on it with his increasingly damaged mop. A sudden heat blossomed in his side, causing him to lay off the head honcho. The final imp at the table had come to its senses and was attempting to end his rampage. Its eyes blazed with fury when they met his, hand still embedded in Mickie’s side. He reached for the creature, and it attempted to duck away. With the strange reflexes born of his deal with Miz-Mag, Mickie caught the fiend by the wrist and hauled it to him. He slammed its head into the table, a sickening crack reverberating through the room. As the limp imp slid from his grasp Mickie turned toward his final opponent. Rather than attempting to fight, the final red figure was staggering towards the door, clutching its head. Summoning his freshly reloaded gun, Mickie aimed at the fiend. Excepted Aria was just beyond it, standing by the door.
‘Move!’
Instead of darting aside the woman rushed the groggy imp. She grasped hold of a chair in passing and hauled the heavy furniture back for a swing. The final fiend did not even see the incoming object, too busy glancing back at Mickie in fear. With a resounding thud it crumpled and lay twitching on the floor, dazed. For a moment the two humans locked eyes, breathing ragged in the quiet. Then there was a thud against the door. And another. It appeared their fight had not gone unnoticed.
‘Aria, we need to leave now. You have a way out of this room?’
The older woman looked up at him, appearing calmer than he felt.
‘Yes, but we can’t leave yet.’
Another creaking thud echoed into the room.
‘What do you mean we can’t leave? The whole palace is about to burst in here!’
She looked down at the recovering imp coldly.
‘They saw our faces.’
That brought Mickie up short. After the warmth with which he had been treated, this abrupt shift in the woman was disconcerting. She had spent years working in the palace, and he was now realising that took more than knowledge and a hole to hide in. Looking at the remaining fiends a familiar hollow filled Mickie’s chest. The fire inside that drove him to fight was gone, yet the job was not finished.
‘Alright. You get the way out ready. I’ll handle them.’
Aria looked him over and gave a firm nod before moving away. On the floor before him the imp attempted to rise, arms shaking underneath it. Mickie pointed his gun at the creature and fired. What remained lay still. The crashing against the door was growing more frantic, though it appeared the chair still held firm. Next up was the fiend he had slammed into the table. It had not moved from its spot on the floor, but Mickie needed to be sure. His gun rotated barrels and he fired. Finally, he stood before the beaten leader of the group. Waiting for his gun to reload, Mickie found his attention drawn to the projected display. The presentation they had interrupted involved several still images, displaying grainy scenes of different environments. Focussing on what appeared to be a large cold storage, his eyes caught on a familiar figure.
‘Alright. Get that last one. It’s time to go.’
Over by a wall, Aria had somehow shifted a tile to open a hole in the floor. Frantically Mickie scanned the other pictures on display. A set of lavish suites, an indoor garden of blackened, sinister plants, even an oversized pool filled with a murky purple liquid. All had similar figures in them. Making a split decision Mickie grabbed the remaining imp by the arm and dragged it over to their escape passage.
‘What are you doing? Finish it off.’
His companion seemed more irritated than urgent, even as the door to the room started to give.
‘I want this one. I have some questions for it.’
The woman did not push further than that, simply nodding before waving him towards the hole. Mickie dropped his new captive into the dark before following. There were handholds carved into the stone wall, and he swiftly descended, moving aside with the imp to make space. As Aria followed behind there was a grinding sound from above and the light of the conference room vanished. Soon the gentle glow of a circular lamp filled the space, held aloft by his companion. They wasted no time before setting off into the darkness, moving swiftly under the lamp’s glow. Sometime later Aria waved a stop in the middle of passage. She swiftly popped open a section of the wall and peered outside.
‘Alright, its clear. Move fast.’
The duo burst into a hall, a service passage similar to the first Mickie had seen. They sprinted up the passage, Aria counting room numbers under her breath until they reached four hundred and four. Mickie followed her inside to find some kind of boiler room, packed with noisy pipes and large, pressurised vessels. It took time to navigate the maze of steel, the heat of the room not impacting Mickie, but making Aria sweat profusely. She stopped by a large vessel of dark steel, unbolting a panel on the side to reveal yet another secret passage.
‘You sure know about a lot of these tunnels.’
All he got was a motion for silence before Aria ducked into the dark. Following behind, Mickie pulled the door shut firmly, feeling the latch on the outside click into place. His guide seemed less hurried than before, catching her breath as they wound their way through the dark.
‘Holy shit. I can’t believe it. I can’t believe what just happened.’
The statement broke the silent air abruptly, causing Mickie to jump.
‘What’s that?’
The older woman let out a raspy chuckle.
‘We just got caught off duty by the Palace Lord, then escaped any retribution, that’s what.’
She cast a look at him over her shoulder as they walked.
‘That gun of yours is insane. Usually taking down an imp takes a hell of a lot of planning. Those buggers are tough.’
There was another chuckle and she looked to the demon slung over his shoulder.
‘Yet you beat the shit out of them.’
Mickie rubbed at the spot on his side one of the imps had cut. It had stopped bleeding during their flight and the flesh was slowly closing about the wound.
‘Yeah, we either went through them or had the whole horde chasing us. Why was the big guy catching us such a big deal? Also, I think it might have seen me, got a weird feeling when we started to run away.’
‘The Palace Lord is weird; it always seems to know things when it shouldn’t. That feeling you got was definitely from it. The demon has some kind of super eye, feels like it can somehow see your thoughts when it looks at you. People who get caught out by the Palace Lord tend to be pushed into an early retirement.’
Aria sighed.
‘Shame it saw you. It’ll be able to recognize on sight now, even if it was only a brief glance. Only if it sees you with the eye though, so, you know, don’t get seen.’
The pair reached an intersection and took a left.
‘If it’s that risky, why did you take me to the staircase?’
‘Honestly, because the chances of running into the big guy are so low it’s next to impossible. I have no idea why it was hanging about the lobby like that. Normally that room is jammed full of demons, I’ve never seen it so empty before.’
Mickie had an idea why, though he would need to interrogate the imp to confirm it. The pair fell into silence as their journey progressed, keeping their ears open for the sounds of pursuit. Eventually, after a boggling number of twists and turns, Aria’s lamp illuminated a familiar door set into the wall. The cramped maintenance cupboard released a knot of tension that had been gripping Mickie behind the neck. He set the unconscious imp down in the ratty chair and turned to the older woman as she lit a second lamp within the space.
‘Now we just wait for this guy to wake up.’
Aria nestled the newly glowing light back amongst the pipework.
‘You’re going to wait for him. I’ve got to run back to the warehouse.’
‘The one we met at? Why?’
The woman sighed and kneaded a stiff shoulder.
‘You might have been seen by the Palace Lord, but they also know there was another human involved. I’m certain there will be spot checks to snag anyone not at their stations. I don’t want the demons tearing apart the tunnels to find me.’
Mickie winced.
‘Yeah, that would make sneaking about difficult. Alright, I’ll let you in on what I’ve found when you get back.’
That got a chuckle.
‘I’ve been curious what you wanted little red over there for. I hope it’s worth the effort of getting him in here.’
With that, Aria ducked back out of the room to go and enact her alibi. Left alone, Mickie turned back to the imp.
‘Now how about I wake you up’.
----------------------------------------
As it turned out, Mickie had done far more damage than he initially thought to the fiend. He tried vigorously shaking it, slapping its face, even splashing it with water. However, nothing seemed capable of breaking the imp from its relentless snoring. With little else to do, Mickie simply contemplated the creature, waiting for it to rouse.
‘Well dear boy, haven’t you been busy.’
A high pitch voice came from atop one of the pipes, and Mickie turned to find Miz-Mag sitting cross legged.
‘Decided you’re done sulking then?’
The diminutive demon sniffed.
‘If you ever actually listened to me, we would already be in the eighth circle. I’m sure of it.’
‘Uh huh, sure.’
Honestly, Mickie had no idea if the demon was right. It had originally had a plan of where they needed to head, even if its directions had been terrible. Perhaps they would have slipped up through the entire palace if he had not bumbled into Administration. Not that Mickie would admit it out loud.
‘Well, you are lucky I am so magnanimous my boy. At least you ditched that human before it could sell us out.’
That made him frown.
‘You mean Aria? I didn’t ditch her, she’s just out right now. This is her safehouse.’
Miz-Mag chocked.
‘Are you an idiot kid? You let her go out alone!’
The demon leapt to its feet.
‘We need to run, she’ll bring down the whole palace on our heads!’
‘What are you on about?’
‘Kid you can’t trust the other humans in the palace, they’re all sheep. They’ll sell you out for a pat on the head.’
No. That couldn’t be right. Aria had been good to him. He had no idea where the tiny fiend had gotten its opinions on the palace humans from.
‘Mag, we literally just killed some imps and kidnapped this one. The whole time she could have sold me out.’
Miz-Mag grumbled, still looking unconvinced.
‘Also, we ran into the Palace Lord, that guy was freaky.’
‘The Palace Lord!’
The sound his companion produced was of such a high pitch that Mickie could hardly hear it. Apparently Miz-Mag had both heard of the big boss, and was absolutely terrified of it.
‘By the blood kid. Please tell me it didn’t see you.’
Seconds past silently as he attempted to word his answer.
‘Well, it uh. It might have caught a glimpse of me.’
The fiend let lose a moan and collapsed dramatically onto the pipe.
‘Of all the things. It’s going to know!’
‘Know what?’
‘Know it’s me kid!’
His companion shot to its feet and started pacing.
‘No matter what I do to get past it, that monster sniffs me out. It’s like they put it there on purpose to stop me!’
‘Relax, will you.’
Mickie attempted to calm the irate demon down.
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Tell me to calm down. Ungrateful twerp.’
After a few more choice curses Miz-Mag gave an exaggerated sigh and seemed to regain control of itself.
‘The Palace Lord can see me. With that stupid eye it has. Only thing other than you I’ve discovered that can.’
That surprised him, Mickie knew his partner was sneaky, but for only two people to be able to see it. There was something else that had been insinuated with the demon’s response.
‘Wait. Can you not control if people can see you? I thought you did it on purpose?’
The tiny red face shifted through several emotions at the question; annoyance, hesitancy and finally resignation.
‘Sadly not, kid. Don’t even know why nothing can see me. Just spawned this way I suppose.’
That only railroaded Mickie into another question.
‘How can I see you then? I mean, I get the Place Lord, he’s built for it. But I was the same as every other mortal in Hell.’
Miz-Mag shrugged.
‘Honestly don’t know why. I knew you could though. Same as I knew you were good for the deal.’
As Mickie opened his mouth to ask how, the demon cut him off.
‘Don’t bother asking. It’s a demon thing, you wouldn’t understand. Anyway, you buddy over yonder is waking up.’
Following the little fiend’s gesture, he discovered that their hostage was finally coming awake. The imp groaned groggily, eyelids fluttering open so it could peer out in a daze.
‘Ifs littler than. Than I ought to be…’
Incomprehensible slurring was all the demon could manage for some time. Consciousness ebbed and flowed until, finally, hazy eyes cleared enough to note Mickie’s presence.
‘W-what mortal? What are you? What am I doing in?’
Then realisation clicked in the behind the creature’s eyes, and it froze. There was a moment in which the imp looked at him in terror before it attempted to bolt. It hardly made it out of the chair before collapsing in a boneless heap.
‘Dumbass. You just woke from a beating; you aren’t going anywhere.’
Mickie wandered over and hauled the small fiend back into place on the chair.
‘That means you have to stick around for a chat.’
‘M-m-mortal you will release me and report to the punishment department immediately.’
That order might have been coloured with fear, yet it still held the gravity of expected obedience. The absurdity of it made Mickie laugh.
‘You’re delusional bud.’
His humour seemed to startle the Imp slightly, as if it was not accustomed to the sound. Immediately the creature followed its fear with anger.
‘YOU! Do you have any idea what awaits you! We’ll peel the skin from your body, eat the flesh from your bones while you watch!’
Mickie backhanded the ranting creature in the face. He had always hated interrogations like this when alive. Yet it seemed like the skills he most detested in life were the very ones most useful to him in death.
‘Keep talking that way, and I’ll pull out your tongue. Get me?’
All he got in return was an angry look. At least it had shut up.
‘Now I happened to catch the little slideshow you had on in the conference room earlier. It seems to me that you demons are having some trouble with a rebellion. Imagine my surprise when I saw images of the critters from Administration running amok throughout the palace.’
The Imp did not respond, glaring at him in defiance. Miz-Mag, however, gave a delighted laugh from its perch on the pipe. There was a light pressure on his shoulder as the tiny fiend took its perch.
‘Oh, dear me. What news indeed. It would appear our wayward workers have grown fond of their freedom. Perhaps the untimely demise of a certain mechanical master has let them free for longer than expected.’
That was Mickie’s current hypothesis as well. He could recall the Mechanist mentioning the need to subdue the robotic hybrids. It appeared the old bag of bolts had not been successful before biting the dust. Even if Mickie knew of the admin workers and their freedom, he needed to know the extent of their uprising.
‘So, I’m guessing that, with the Mechanist gone, you guys up top have no way to control the rebelling grey guys?’
His captive gave nothing away. Fine then, perhaps it would respond to provocation.
‘I mean, I can’t say I expected much from you flesh bags up top. But you can’t even control your own slaves.’
A sad shake of his head punctuated the statement.
‘Useless without the machine to hand feed you. Honestly, before I died, I thought demons were scary. Looking at you lot though. Well, I’m surprised us mortals aren’t already running the place.’
That seemed to do the trick, the little Imp failed to hold back a screech of fury. It attempted to rise once more, and being unable to do so, resorted to screaming at him.
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‘You stinking blood bag. You know nothing of your betters. Those disgusting Kindle Kin hybrids are the only reason those wrinkly fuckers are still heaving air. But we’ll take them though. They won’t get past us. We have barricades in place to stop them.’
The groggy Imp released a mad cackle.
‘Once the Mechanist reconstitutes, they’ll be done for. Back to Admin where they belong. But you, you filthy wretch. We’re going to…’
Mickie zoned out the tirade as something the demon said caught his attention. The Mechanist reconstituting? That couldn’t mean what he thought it did. He grasped the Imp by its pointy chin to shut it up.
‘The Mechanist. I blew that shitter into the abyss.’
With a shove he pushed the demon back in its chair. Miz-Mag seemed to be miffed at his wording.
‘You did? Damn kid, taking credit.’
Mickie ignored his companion.
‘It’s dead.’
Across from them the woozy demon took a moment to orient itself before laughing sadistically.
‘You? Did that to the Mechanist? Don’t kid yourself mortal. The Mechanist has no weakness. Unless you blow the whole castle, you can’t kill it. Only a matter of time before the beasty pieces itself back together again.’
It couldn’t be possible. Could it? Even though they had blown the robot to smithereens the intelligence driving it lived on. And it would return. That was bad. Mickie had no doubt that when the Mechanist came back online it would be out for blood. They needed to get out of the castle before that happened. Luckily, Mickie had an idea on how to get a clear run at the stairs.
‘These Kindle Kin, the grey guys, how long until they reach the upper floors?’
Unfortunately for him the Imp had regained control of itself and returned to glaring at him in silence. Mickie wanted to curse. Now he knew time was of the essence, they couldn’t afford to wait upon a drawn-out interrogation. He rubbed the scruff sprouting from his jaw with a palm, fingerless glove catching on the sharper stubble. Then Mickie paused. That might work. Immediately he pulled the dark leather from his right hand, revealing the ridged flesh of his brand. He presented the mark to the imp, staring into the creature’s eyes as they widened.
‘You recognize this?’
‘N-no. I can’t be. Mark of the traitor? But how?’
Bingo.
‘Don’t you worry your wrinkly little scalp about how. You know what this mark means, don’t you?’
The anger was draining from the Imp at a visible rate. He had counted on some reaction, but this was like he had just made the critter look at the abyss beneath the palace. Who was this Soul Lord, that just its mark got such visceral reactions from demons?
‘No. You can’t. Not me.’
Its voice was softer than Mickie would expect possible from a denizen of Hell, wobbly with fear.
‘I can and I will. Unless you tell me. How long until the Kindle Kin get here?’
His captive was on the breaking point, Mickie could see it in the clench of its jaw, the tremble at the corner of its mouth. Just a bit more.
‘Still not going to answer? Fine. I guess I’ll have to call on my friend for help.’
Mickie bumped Miz-Mag with the side of his head as he spoke, nodding subtly towards the imp. Without a sound his companion leapt to the trembling demon’s shoulder, alighting upon it without notice. The tiny fiend gave him a wicked grin and mimed stabbing at the prisoner’s neck. He raised his branded hand, fingers splayed.
‘Perhaps an example is in order.’
As he clenched his fist in the air Miz-Mag jabbed hard into the creature’s neck. The pain of his diminutive partner’s strike could not have been that great, yet the imp moaned as if they had taken its arm.
‘Tell me, or it’ll be your soul.’
That did it. Sagging into its chair, the imp gasped a sob.
‘The Kindle Kin will be here soon. A few hours at most.’
Mickie frowned. That was not a whole lot of time.
‘And you have set up blockades and the like? Choke points to hold them at bay.’
The dejected prisoner nodded.
‘Yes, block some of the tunnels. Defend the others.’
He could guess at the tactic, restrict the possible routes, and funnel the enemy into established choke points.
‘Why not just block every passage?’
That was met with a sneer and a flare of temper.
‘Who knows where the shitters would break through if we did that. Better to let the bumbling idiots wander into the meat grinder.’
Mickie clenched his fist and Miz-Mag jabbed the demon again, cutting the budding anger short.
‘Alright then. You’re going to tell me where these blockades are.’
----------------------------------------
It was with a hollow feeling that Mickie stood before the unconscious imp. The creature had grown progressively more fearful throughout the questioning. By the end it hardly reacted when Mickie summoned his gun and cracked it in the side of the head with the bulky barrel. Like a puppet with its strings cut their prisoner crumpled boneless to the floor. In truth he didn’t want to deal with the demon. If he could just walk away and leave it locked up in the room, he would. But it was too risky. For his plan to work they needed surprise on their side. Something the imp before them could take away if it got free.
‘You know, I thought I was done with this shit once.’
Mickie moved over to the metal basin of the shower and heaved it upright, leaning the old metal against a wall.
‘As it turns out.’
He grunted as he picked up the imp.
‘It’s easy to fall back into old habits.’
Exposed by the lifted showering basin was a broad hole in the floor, a foot and a half in diameter. The drain was far larger without its covering, leaving plenty of space for him to lower the imp over the side. With a sigh he let go, and the prisoner vanished into darkness. As he straightened Mickie remembered words spoken long ago, ones that whispered within his mind with a clarity uncommon for memories.
You think you can walk from this Mik? You don’t walk from the family. You were born for this life, and you’ll die living it.
His sister had always been too smart for her own good, for anyone’s good really. A delighted chuckle drew Mickie from his reverie. At the very least Miz-Mag seemed pleased with their interrogation.
‘Ah, my friend. What fun we have, hey?’
When he didn’t respond the demon continued, unperturbed.
‘Did you see the look on its face? The buffoon really thought you were poking at its soul or something.’
The fiend gave another cackle as he lowered the shower basin back into place.
‘Honestly, it’s just a jab in the neck. What an idiot.’
Mickie closed his eyes and took a slow breath. Time was of the essence. He needed to focus.
‘Alright, you heard the imp. There are almost twenty choke points being held around the palace. We need to get to the nearest one and shut it down. You good to guide?’
Miz-Mag grinned evilly.
‘Dear boy. With you asking so nicely I would be glad to help. Let us go and wreak havoc upon the masses, hmm?’
All he gave in return was a nod, and the little miscreant leapt upon his shoulder. The room dimmed behind them as Mickie grabbed hold of the remaining lamp and moved to the door. He gave one last goodbye to the cramped space before sliding the metal door shut with a creak.
‘I’m sorry, Aria.’
In the end she had not returned from warehouse. They had spent quite some time in the hideout, waiting for the imp to awaken and then grilling it for answers. Apparently, it was not enough time for her however. Mickie hoped his fellow human was safe, that she could make it back to her lonely little den before he kicked the hornet’s nest. They could not afford to wait any longer however, he needed to act before the Mechanist returned for his head. Without another word, Mickie set off into the dark tunnels.
He and Miz-Mag roamed in direction the little fiend seemed to believe would lead to an exit. While clearly not as knowledgeable of their surrounds as Aria had been, Mickie’s companion claimed to have wandered the upper reaches of the palace a fair bit. Not as much as the lower levels due to its fear of the Palace Lord, but enough to know the layout. Apparently, the imps had set up their choke points in small clusters. The idea was that if the Kindle Kin concentrated on any staircase, others in the cluster could reinforce it. But to attack multiple clusters they would have to split their forces, hopefully wasting more time.
Mickie was rather curious how the little grey workers he had seen were fighting. Their stumpy bodies were not exactly built for combat. Perhaps it was just the hybrid machines then, those things were built to kick the ass their kin could not reach. There was also the name, Kindle Kin. A strange name for an entire race, but he had heard it from the prisoner and the Palace Lord.
‘Kid, slowdown! I think I spotted an exit.’
While the duo had been rushing through the secret tunnels, they had not been going at a breakneck pace. Mickie swiftly stumbled to a halt and glanced about for whatever had caught Miz-Mag’s attention.
‘Back a bit. There was a hole in the wall that looked perfect for a lever.’
Moving slowly back the way they had come, it did not take the pair long to find the hole again. Holding the light up to it, Mickie discovered there was indeed a lever hidden within the rock. He reached out a hand and took hold of the dark metal, giving it a firm pull. A bolt thudded free within a nearby wall, then a sliver of light fell upon them as a secret door creaked open.
‘Ah, truly, you would be lost without me dear boy.’
Mickie just rolled his eyes and pushed open the exit. The duo found themselves within some form of industrial kitchen, bare walls and shining countertops covered in foodstuffs. Humans filled the space, working in industrious silence at an array of preparatory tasks. They hardly more than glanced at Mickie as he entered, remaining intent on their work. Other than Aria, he had yet to see any humans working throughout the upper palace, even if the older woman had guaranteed they were everywhere. So it was with a cautious optimism that he approached the nearest worker, a younger man dicing meat into cubes.
‘Hey uh, how’s it going?’
For his effort Mickie received an annoyed glare before the man promptly went back to ignoring him.
‘Kid we don’t have time to chin wag with every idiot we pass.’
The demon on his shoulder seemed eager to get underway. However, he was not yet ready to leave.
‘Hey buddy, I just wanted to talk. Surely you can manage that much.’
The steady rhythm of the man’s knife stopped as he placed it on the chopping board. He did not even turn to face Mickie before speaking in a low voice.
‘The Hell is there to talk about? You should know how on edge the imps are. If they catch us talking it’ll be both our hides.’
His voice was tinged with fear. The steady sound of chopping filled the air once more as he got back to work.
‘So please, get back to your station or whatever your taskmaster had you doing.’
Mickie opened his mouth to respond when a shrill voice filled the silent kitchen.
‘You! Mortal! What are you doing just standing there? How dare you take an unsanctioned break.’
At the other end of the kitchen an imp had rounded a corner and spotted Mickie. It stomped towards him with a head full of steam.
‘And you! I told you to cut, not to chat. It appears punishment is in order.’
The imp closed to within a few meters of them. While Mickie was unsure what the creature intended, he figured it was best to not waste any more time. With burst of heat from his brand Mickie had his gun at the ready. Dark gemstone eyes glinted out into the suddenly startled face of the imp.
‘You…’
Mickie fired with a gout of black smoke and the imp head disappeared. There was a crack as his shot continued through the fiend to shatter the ceramic flooring beyond. Dead silence followed the attack, every worker in the room staring at him in horror. With a flick of the wrist, he dismissed his weapon and addressed the stunned humans.
‘Alright. All of you. You should go through the passage I came through and hide. It’s about to get real messy in the palace and its going to be safest out of sight.’
The man he had attempted to speak with was the first to shake of the shock.
‘Y-you just killed a task master. They’ll kill us all for this.’
Miz-Mag cackled in delight.
‘I believe they’ll have bigger issues to deal with shortly.’
Mickie started towards the exit of the kitchen.
‘Like I said. Its about to get crazy up here. I recommend you all go and hide.’
There were several angry murmurs from the surrounding workers, but no one else called him out directly. These people seemed so cowed compared to Aria. She at least acted in her own interest when presented with the opportunity. Mickie reflected that he had been lucky it was the older woman he stumbled into when exiting the Mechanist’s lair. If it had been one of these people, he most likely would have received little to no help. He and Miz-Mag turned a corner and reached the door to the kitchen. Before the silent workspace passed out of sight Mickie took one last look at its human occupants. All he saw were downcast expression and hostile glares. Not a single person had moved towards the secret passage hanging open on the far wall. He turned back to the door and pushed it open. It was not like he could force them to make the right call. Beyond the kitchen was an opulent hall, not dissimilar to those leading toward the staircase. Miz-Mag took a moment to glance about before giving a squeaky grunt of satisfaction.
‘There’s not a lot of these passages spaced about the upper levels. They’re normally pretty direct too. All we need now is some kind of landmark.’
‘That kitchen not good enough for you?’
The demon barked a laugh.
‘They got more kitchens up here than you can count kid. We’ll need something better than that.’
Resigned to the role of demon vehicle, Mickie set of down the hall at a jog. Hopefully these upper passages would not be a repeat of Administration, in which Miz-Mag had been all but useless with directions. The path they currently ran along was empty. However, as they reached an intersection and took a turn the pair discovered a more populated passage. Demons were hurriedly darting about, frantic in the face of the looming conflict. Mickie instantly hit the brakes on his run and assumed a steady walk, head down. He did his best to cover the bloodstain on his shirt. The wound beneath it had long since healed, but crusty crimson stain could attract unwanted attention. Luckily for him, the demons seemed far to immersed in their frantic activities to pay a lowly human much attention.
It was a short while before something caught Miz-Mag’s eye. The diminutive demon perked up on his shoulder before talking in a low squeak.
‘Kid on the left wall. Painting of some weirdo. I recognize it.’
Mickie chanced a look up while walking and noted the indicated art. It was a huge full body portrait framed in gold, stretching from the floor to the ceiling of the passage. The figure depicted was almost human in proportions, though wrong in peculiar ways. Limbs that were too long and thin, skin that was whiter than porcelain, long, dark hair that floated as if underwater. It was the eyes however, that almost caused his steady gait to falter. Orbs of darkness, black as the abyss below the palace and just as unnerving. No wonder Miz-Mag remembered the painting, even as he tore his eyes away and continued onwards it was as if the eyes were tracking him. He wanted to ask the demon who the painting was of, however he could not risk drawing attention to himself by speaking.
‘Turns out we’re actually close to the stairs up, shame we’re not headed that way yet.’
For its part, the fiend seemed unperturbed by the artwork, instead mulling over the direction they should take.
‘Alright. I’m thinking the best choice is coming up. Big set of plain doors, low traffic and points us right at a blockade cluster.’
His companion was on the money. Soon the indicated doors came into range, and with prompting from the demon, Mickie ducked through. This new hall was yet again of a familiar style, plain walls and fluorescent lighting that illuminated sequentially numbered doors. Unlike the previous passage, this new space was all but deserted. Moving along the concrete floor, Mickie only encountered a pair of humans just before they ducked through a door marked three-two-seven. Not even enough time to say a brief hello. On his shoulder, Miz-Mag was getting antsy, urging him to move faster.
‘Got to take a passage up ahead. Jump into room six-oh-seven.’
They reached the door and Mickie did not hesitate to grasp the handle and push it open. Within was a storage facility, not connected to any tunnels as the first they had seen. Instead, this one was filled with stacks of crates, pilled so high they almost hit the ceiling at some points. There was a young woman nearby with a trolley, straining under the effort of moving an oversized box. She glanced Mickie’s way as he entered, promptly losing focus on her task. The heavy cargo slid from the trolley and hit the ground with a crash. Wincing with the impact the worker looked to Mickie as if it was somehow his fault.
‘I didn’t know they assigned anyone else to hauling in this warehouse.’
Miz-Mag tisked in annoyance on his shoulder.
‘Kid, we don’t have time for another chat. Head to the far wall, behind those crates.’
Instead of doing as he was told Mickie turned to the irritated woman.
‘They didn’t.’
She looked at him in confusion.
‘Then why are you in here? You made me drop that crate.’
‘I’m in here because I’m hunting demons.’
The fiend on his shoulder groaned.
‘Kid don’t tell the human that. What if she tells the imps.’
He shot the demon a glare. Its not like the Imps would have no clue what was happening when they found the kitchen. Though, he was not sure why he paused to talk to this person. Maybe he was feeling guilty for leaving Aria behind and wanted to help some of his other fellow mortals. Or perhaps he just wanted someone who would talk to him after the subdued chefs from before.
‘Hunting demons? The hell are you on about?’
It took hardly a thought to summon his gun, golden eyed lion ready to fire at his command. The woman took a step back, surprised.
‘What in the nine circles?’
‘Look, I have no time for a detailed explanation. Soon its going to get pretty crazy in the Palace. Make sure you, and anyone you care about gets somewhere safe. Spread the word if you get the chance.’
Miz-Mag, who had been impatiently huffing on his shoulder suddenly perked up.
‘Something is inbound. We got to move kid.’
Without an early warning demon to alert her, the young worker spoke on casually.
‘I mean, I’ve noticed all the imps getting worked up recently. What’s happening out there?’
Mickie could make out a distant commotion from the tunnel. It might not be for him, but he couldn’t afford to wait and see.
‘Some slaves from the lower levels have rebelled. Creatures called the Kindle Kin.’
He cast a look to the door of the warehouse.
‘Look, I got to go.’
Unable to delay any further, he moved towards Miz-Mag’s indicated crates. The woman’s eyes widened slightly as she too finally heard the approaching racket. He reached the crates and began looking about for some kind of lever or button.
‘Um. If you’re looking for the passage, those are the wrong boxes. It’s the other wall.’
Ducking back out of the cramped space Mickie glared at his demon companion, who at least looked slightly abashed. They swiftly made it to the spot the woman indicated and found a button cut smoothly into the concrete. As the commotion in the halls grew dangerously close, he ducked his head out and mouthed a thank you to the worker. She gave him an eye roll in return. The secret entrance was a panel in the floor that folded downwards, and the duo dropped into the dark. As Mickie hefted the trapdoor back into place there was a crash from the door to the storage room. A high voice wrang out, causing him to pause.
‘You. Mortal. We have received a report of a suspicious human entering this facility. You will provide identification and inform us of any such individuals.’
When the woman spoke, she sounded completely different from their encounter.
‘O-of course master. Here is my identifier. I have not seen anything amiss. I-I have just been completing my tasks as ordered.’
It was some top notch acting, and Mickie was grateful she hadn’t sold them out. If this demon squad discovered him here it would hamper his plans. The demons questioned the woman further as Mickie slid the trapdoor home, careful to hold the latch open to prevent it clicking loudly. If that woman was willing to cover for him, the least he could do was make sure they could not catch her in the lie. He stalked quietly into the dark of the tunnel, pausing a distance in to take out his lamp.
‘Kid that was far too close.’
Mickie did not reply to his companion. While he knew that had been a close call, all he felt was satisfied. It was good to know, after the reaction of the kitchen staff, that not everyone in this palace was broken. There was more than just himself and Aria resisting the suffocation of Hell.
----------------------------------------
The duo did not need to stay long in the tunnels this time around, Miz-Mag soon calling out the exit. Their way out was a sliding wall panel that positioned them behind an aesthetic drapery within one of the opulent halls.
‘Righto kid, we’re just about on the border of the first cluster. Hope you know how you’re going to tackle a bunch of imps at once.’
That was a roadblock to Mickie’s plan that he had not been able to overcome. While they had gotten the layout of the blockades from their prisoner, the imp had not known the structure of the defences. So, he and Miz-Mag would be moving in blind and have to figure it out as they went. The hall was quiet as they snuck down its length, approaching the first of the choke points. There were no demons or humans nearby, perhaps having been cleared out in preparation for the fight. They should have been getting near the first blockade, yet the passage remained silent. It was strange, he would have expected to hear something from the waiting forces. A frantic tapping on his ear drew Mickie’s attention to his fiendish companion. Miz-Mag was waving its arms frantically, miming something with its mouth and throat. That certainly was strange, usually the imp was happy to chat, knowing nothing but its partner could hear it.
After a few more desperate seconds of miming the red figure threw its hand into the air in exasperation. Getting irritated with the ongoing display Mickie decided to just ask what the issue was. He opened his mouth in preparation for a murmured whisper. Yet when he formed the words there was nothing, no sound emerged from between his lips. Odd, he had been trying to be quiet, yet his voice should still have been audible. Attempting to speak slightly louder, Mickie was met with the same result. Nothing. He frowned in confusion, attempting to speak at a regular volume. The air moved in his lungs, tickled his voice box, and vibrated the skin of his throat. Yet no sound reached his ears.
Miz-Mag appeared to have noticed his attempt at speech and had taken on a smug look. Smarmy devil, its not like it was the demon’s terrible acting had been what clued him in. He gave the tiny fiend a roll of his eyes before returning to the walk. Now he knew to listen for it, Mickie realised that even his footfalls were unnaturally silent. Perhaps this phenomenon had something to do with the blockade.
Another intersection was fast approaching. Knowing that they would soon be upon the demons, Mickie carefully glanced around the corner, finally catching sight of his first target. Dead ahead the passage opened in a chamber, opulent in décor and containing what he assumed was a staircase. The space was so backed up with demons and equipment that it was impossible to see what they were guarding. Dark steel barricades lined the floor, supporting mounted weapons of twisted metal. Crates of strange ammunition sat open and ready to be used beside teams of imps. Most curiously, there was a strange device at the back of the formation. A hulking thing of metal pipes and protrusions. It connected to the floor and ceiling with huge suction cups at the end of thick wires. The main body of the device glowed with blood red runes, evil things that pulsed with the beat of a heart. If Mickie had to take a guess, he would say that was what cut out all sound. A machine that fused technology with demonic magic to suppress all noise. The only question was why the demons needed it.
While the lack of sound might have aided Mickie in his approach of the blockade, the demons were not complete fools. As he wandered down the hall the group noticed his approach and a pair of fiends moved forward to meet him. These were not the typical imps he had grown accustomed to within the bound of the castle. Instead, they were taller than the red minions, with leathery brown skin and bulbous gecko eyes. For all that the creatures were larger than the imps, they were not altogether imposing, hunch backed and scrawny.
As Mickie got close to the duo something strange happened. There was a sudden pressure behind his eyes, a weight on his body like the turn of a rollercoaster. Then a voice spoke straight into his head, cold and emotionless.
‘Mortal. Why do you approach the blockade.’
It took an effort of will not to immediately flinch at the foreign thoughts entering his head. Somehow, someway, these creatures could talk directly to his mind. A workaround for the sound suppressors no doubt. Hopefully they couldn’t read thoughts or anything like that, otherwise Mickie would lose the element of surprise. He attempted to think of a response, willing his reply to reach the strange brown creatures.
‘I have orders to pass on from the Palace Lord itself.’
That seemed to do the trick. The demons before him tilted their heads before pausing. A moment later the voice entered his head once more.
‘You will relay them. But first you will provide service identification and the passcode for this blockade.’
‘Of course, I have my identification right here.’
Mickie shuffled towards the pair, patting his pants as if searching his non-existent pockets. The duo stayed wary, watching him like a hawk.
‘Ah, got it. Apologies great masters.’
He pulled his hand up as if holding something. When it drew level with the nearest demon, he called forth his gun and shot the creature from a few feet away. The lion headed barrel spat golden force that tore the being in half before slamming against the noise suppressor behind it. Mickie immediately rushed the remaining fiend but staggered as a sledgehammer passed right through his skull and clocked his brain. It was a mind attack, one that disrupted his run and caused him to stumble. Rather than instantly fall over Mickie continued forward and collided hard with the demon. Instantly the force on his mind lifted, becoming more akin to a light headache than a pounding migraine.
The alleviated pain provided Mickie with enough of his faculties to fight back. He instantly grasped the demon by the back of its leathery head and slammed it face first into a wall. One hit stopped the remnant pounding in his head. Five saw the monster cease moving entirely. That had not been pleasant to endure. In future Mickie would need to keep an eye out for this particular demon. If one of them got the jump on him that might spell his doom.
Surprisingly enough, the remaining imps within the blockade had not noticed the altercation, still standing at attention with eyes locked on the stairwell. That meant he could sneak in and deliver some chaos before shredding the noise machine and fleeing. Mickie had made such a mess of the first mind demon that he did not even bother attempting to hide the bodies. Instead moving swiftly towards the ranks of imps. It was strange none of them had so much as glanced his way, instead focusing intently on the location of the staircase.
He paused at the threshold to the open room, the final spot that would provide any cover before he was upon the small force. Just inside, to either side of the passage were stacked crates. He slunk towards them, hoping they might hold something to assist him in making a scene. The first lid he popped off revealed stacks of oddly shaped ammunition. Effective but not ideal. A second lid was all it took to strike gold, however. Rows of cylinders, metal constructions with pins holding a handle against the body.
Wasting no further time, Mickie grasped a grenade in each hand and flicked the pins free with his thumbs. He lobbed them straight for two of the larger weapon emplacements, aiming for the crates of ammunition stored there. Without even waiting for the explosives to land he was running back down the tunnel, carrying as many of the small cylinders as he could manage. It was a small distance to the bulky silencing machine, and he ducked behind it, waiting for the blast. Except there was no blast. No burst of debris, or flash as the ammo caught. Instead, white smoke began to rise amongst the feet of the imps, spreading like a low cloud. It took time for the demons to notice the substance, coughing silently before looking down with wide eyes. They began to stumble away, choking and retching without sound.
Mickie cursed into the quiet, he had been hoping for an immediate impact on the formation. Gas grenades, while effective, did not produce the impact of a true explosion. Already the demons outside the toxic fumes were scanning the room for a culprit. Thinking fast, Mickie pulled the pin on another two grenades and lobbed them into the room. Instead of aiming for any demons the cylinders landed a ways outside the open tunnel. In moments fumes were filling air devoid of any life. The imps began to notice him huddled in the passage, pointing and attempting to alert their compatriots. Bulky metal rifles were raised in his direction as an obscuring white fog rose. Ducking out of sight behind the machinery there were a number of flashes that were swiftly followed by vibrations in the metal of the device. Then, like the volume dial on a stereo being slowly turned, sound returned. Not the full volume of a combat zone but a muted murmuring, as if he were listening from underwater. The stupid demons had shot their own machine.
It appeared they had realised it as well, because as a foggy veil rose over the passage’s exit, there were no further flashes from within its depths. Mickie stared into the toxic murk, steeling himself up for what had to happen next. On his shoulder Miz-Mag seemed to gather his intentions and wanted no part. It leapt onto the machinery and gave him a helpless shake of the head. Cowardly little critter. As ready as he would ever be, Mickie turned towards the smoke, took a deep breath, and ran right at it.
The world became a murky white that cut at his eyes with innumerable needles. The muted sounds that reached him were those of screaming and coughing demons. Turning as soon as he entered the stairwell room Mickie came upon the crates once more. He shoved the box of gas grenades towards the clean air of the passage. The effort caused him to grunt out precious oxygen. Tears were attempting to wash away toxins that could be cleared by water. His lungs started to burn. Just a bit longer.
With increasingly desperate hands Mickie began to hurl aside the lids of containers, searching. There. These were different to the cylinders of gas, with pins and handles, but spherical instead. His body was screaming for air. He needed to take a breath.
Instead, Mickie grabbed a pair of the grenades and scattered the box onto the floor. He pulled the pins and hurled them into the fog, towards where he thought the emplacements had been. Now he could go. Turning back towards the tunnel Mickie stumbled forwards, desperate for clean air, when a figure hurtled out of the mist. The imp barrelled into him, sending itself sprawling and knocking the last of the air from his lungs. As Mickie summoned his gun and shot the creature, he inhaled a lungful of the white gas. No longer able to resist.
Lungs burned with incandescent fire, throat scraped raw by razorblades. Desperate to be free of the poison he staggered into the passage. Only to find it was not safe. The gas had spread, flowing into the safer spaces to further entrap those within its depths. A bull jumped kicked Mickie’s back as the grenades went off, launching him deeper into the passage. He connected with the metal of a bulky machine and bounced deeper, coming to a stop in a ragged heap. Mickie gasp for breath, and was surprised to find he could. Lungful’s of clean air that seemed unable to remove the fire from his insides. Unable to move he retched and gasped onto the pristine tiles of the hall, body seizing and shaking from the poison.
Function returned slowly, and as soon as Mickie could move, he turned back towards the stairwell. The gas was retreating into the space, he could feel a breeze pushing it back, like the breath of a lifegiving God. The imps must have had a failsafe, some kind of exhaust fan. Quickly, he turned to the bulky silencing machine as it was revealed and shot the thing with the leopard headed barrel. Then again as the barrel rotated, and again. Each blast was louder in his ears, rising in volume as the runes on the machine dimmed. When they finally sputtered and went out the chamber was becoming clear once more. Mickie did not hear the clamour of spluttering demons he had expected, there was some gasping and retching but the hall was quiet for the most part. Then the cackle of a tiny red figure echoed through the space.
‘By the blood, my dear boy. You certainly did a number on them.’
Indeed, he had. The staircase room cleared to reveal a mass of imps, gasping, retching, and laying still. One of the grenades had hit an ammo crate and set the whole show off, blasting aside the blockades to reveal the stairs. They were extensive, not a spiral but a straight shot into the depths of the castle, broken only by the occasional landing. The result was a near unobstructed view into the palace’s depths. A view that contained figures, distant and moving slowly upwards. Creatures made almost entirely of steel, but for a pale fleshy core. The Kindle Kin.
‘Oh wow. They sure are close huh. Must be because this passage is such a straight shot up.’
Mickie tried to respond but his spasming lungs failed him, forcing him against the wall to support a coughing fit. Silence returned as he regained his breath. Except it was not true silence, not completely. Beyond the whir of air condition, and the pained moans of the imps, something new tickled his ears. A thudding rhythm, timed to the distant stomping of metallic feet. Growing louder by the moment. It came, not just through the air, but through the floor and the walls. A song that was familiar and yet distinct. It was not of loss and belonging, as it had been in Administration. This song spoke of chains, of pain, and most of all, fury. Anger forged and hammered until it stood stronger than steel. The collective rage of a species used up like leaves in a fire, all to warm the hands of an uncaring master. The Kindle Kin sang a song of war as they rose, and the very world itself carried their voice.