When we arrived in the lower dungeons, after a brief detour to the kitchen, Lucifron was waiting for us by the elevator. He carried a bullseye lantern with a metal cowl that cast most of the light in one direction. At the moment, he was shining a beam of cool, blue light at the wall behind him, presumably to avoid blinding us.

“Dark Lord,” he said, bowing to me at the waist. After I motioned for him to rise, he beckoned us to follow him down a series of winding stone tunnels deep into the heart of the earth under the tower. This time he cast the light at our feet as we walked, as the floor was rough and uneven, carved from jagged, black stone.

Soon we arrived in a central chamber with a large hole in the floor surrounded by a metal railing and several signs inscribed with the demonic rune for “caution.”

Other members of the Winged Legion patrolled this area, slowly pacing back and forth, but they moved aside for us. I looked down as we approached the center of the room, and that’s when I saw it—the Void itself.

Below us, deep beneath the earth, I saw a dark sphere devoid of light, surrounded by a faintly glowing halo. As I looked into its depths, I knew I recognized it, though I’d only seen it from the inside. The longer I stared into its eye, the more I felt something within was looking back at me, too. I felt something shifting, responding to my gaze. When I had been dead I had been down there, trapped in that darkness, without any idea of what lay beyond.

Mona’s gentle hand on mine pulled me back to the present. I realized my hands were gripping the railing so tightly I’d caused a dent in the metal. I tore my eyes from the Void and followed Lucifron as he marched along the walkway to our left, then stopped in front of a large barred door.

Other than the door, which was metal, the cell was carved directly out of the same black stone as everything else down here, with rough walls and a floor worn smooth by centuries of prisoners’ footsteps.

At the far end of the cell, illuminated by Lucifron’s lantern, the paladin was shackled to the wall by her wrists and ankles. A gag had been tied across her mouth, and her long, white fangs were bared around it as she snarled at us. Darkstar seemed to have no qualms about blinding the prisoner, as the pupils of her amber eyes constricted into thin slits under the harsh glare of his lantern.

Looking at her closely for the first time, I realized now she was beautiful. I hadn’t noticed it when she was trying to kill us, but she had the face of a fairy tale princess and the muscles of a warrior. If it weren’t for the fact she seemed intent on slaying us all, she would have been far more than cute.

She’d been stripped out of her armor and now wore a plain white shift. Most of her body looked like that of a human, but floppy black dog ears peeked out from the top of her short, tomboyish hair. Her skin was a deep, rich brown color, and she was the same height as me, perhaps even slightly taller if standing straight.

Her eyes stared at me in pure rage, glinting with reflected blue light from the lantern. Her anger was undercut slightly by the adorable, fluffy black tail hanging between her legs.

Her hands and feet were covered in short black hair with long claws. I saw on the floor where she’d scratched the stone, perhaps out of frustration, or while trying in vain to escape during the night.

“Unlock the door so we may speak,” I told Lucifron. “Release her wrists, and un-gag her.”

Lucifron looked at me hesitantly, then grabbed the ring of keys from his belt and flicked through them before doing as I’d requested.

Once inside, I turned my attention toward her. “What’s your name?” I asked, surprised once again by the strange sounds from my mouth. This must be the speech of the Beastfolk, I thought. It sounded fierce, a harsh tongue full of passion.

Her eyes narrowed at me, but she said nothing.

“Ah, forgive me,” I said. “You must be hungry.” I motioned to Ilmatar and he carried in a bowl of a vegetable and rodent stew. It was a recipe from one of the cookbooks, and was popular in Lycanta.

Now her eyes perked up, tracking the bowl, her nose sniffing the air. Just as I’d hoped. I took the bowl from Ilmatar and stepped forward until I was just inside the reach of her now-freed hands. Lucifron was standing off to my side, clearly tense, not understanding the point of what I was doing.

Meanwhile, Mona, Ilmatar, and Asmodeus seemed equally dubious from their positions outside the door. But the fact was, if you ever wanted the bad cop to accomplish something, you needed a good cop too.

Her hands reached towards the bowl, hesitantly at first, then grabbed it firmly and took it from my hands. She held it in front of her face, watching the steam rising from it, her nose twitching. We’d come straight from the kitchen, and even if I knew it was made from what the demons called molerat, I couldn’t deny that it at least smelled good, if nothing else.

She met my eyes, and I wondered what had compelled her to come here, to a place she almost certainly must have known she probably wouldn’t escape from. What had things been like in Lycanta? What terrible luck she must’ve had to wind up dispatched to the heart of her enemy’s domain. And now there was the fate of yet another person in my hands. I wish you’d stayed home. But I could say the same for myself.

She brought the bowl close to her face and closed her eyes, as if taking in the aroma. I thought I was about to get through to her, until she snarled and tossed the bowl at my head.

My hand reached out, almost of its own accord, catching the bowl—but the momentum of the stew continued, some of it splashing my face as the rest flew past me, spattering on the floor. I wiped my face with my hand and looked at her. Now, at last, she was smiling.

“You’re only hurting yourself,” I said. “Eventually, you’ll need food if you wish to survive until the Thaw.” Some of it had landed on my lips, and to be honest, it was pretty good. Tasted like chicken.

Finally, she spoke, a sly smile on her face. “From the moment I drew my sword, Great Devourer, Teller of Lies, I had no intention of surviving,” she said. She spit at me, but I stepped back, so it landed on the floor near my boot. However, it hardly seemed much consolation as soup was still dripping from my chin.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“Why is that?” I asked. “When we return you to Sun-Domia, surely you would prefer to be alive?”

Her eyes widened, and she looked at me in shock. That, at least, had gotten her attention. “You lie to me, Dark One. The God of Demons does not release prisoners.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “If you starve yourself, I suppose you’ll never know.” Then I beckoned Lucifron forward. “Bind her.”

She hissed and snarled as Darkstar and a couple of other guards shackled her wrists to the uneven stone wall once more.

“What should I call you?” I asked again, wondering if this time she might actually tell me. “After all, if I am going to trade you to Sun-Domia, I should know who I captured.”

“Ah, yes,” she said. “So you may broadcast my shame and failure to my Goddess.” The energy in her body flagged momentarily as she slumped forward, held up only by the shackles. She must have been exhausted. I assume she hadn’t slept much last night, if at all.

“I need to identify you so I can negotiate for your release. I’m not who you think I am. I’m on the side of the people of Lycanta.”

“You were Lycanta’s ruin, and will be again to those who worship you.” She looked around, eyes passing from Lucifron to the other demons outside. “You all follow a False God! He leads you to ruin!”

I laughed, as it seemed the only reasonable thing I could do. She had no way of knowing how right she was.

“And yet, here you are,” I said, moving closer to her yet safely out of her reach. Her arms strained against their bonds, perhaps trying in vain to free herself or just eager for something to do. “So perhaps your Goddess is the false one. It appears she has failed you.”

“How dare you!” she screamed, saliva flying from her mouth, her teeth still bared.

“Well, no matter,” I said. “From now on, I’ll have to call you the Lost Paladin since you seem allergic to names.”

She growled, but said nothing further.

After a brief glance at each of my companions, I left the cell and began to head for the elevator. On my way out, I glanced upward to keep my eyes from being drawn to the Void again, and saw something most peculiar. There was a large metal hole in the roof of the chamber, directly above the Void. Where it led, I couldn’t see. But it seemed perfectly positioned to dump things, perhaps people, into the black hole beneath us.

I strode away without waiting for Lucifron to finish locking the cell and casting his lantern in our path. I still remembered where to step, every bump and depression on the floor.

“If I may ask, Dark Lord, what are your plans for the prisoner?” Lucifron asked once he’d caught up to us. He hurried alongside me, panting slightly.

“Tomorrow, offer the same stew and water. If she doesn’t eat or drink, no matter. Don’t act as if you care very much either way. Just keep bringing it to her. Let me know if she starts to eat.”

“That sounds like coddling,” Lucifron said, a hint of disgust in his voice. “Master, she is a prisoner! We haven’t even tried electrocuting her nipples yet, so how can we know that torture won’t be effective?” Was that the first thing that came to mind? “And what you said about releasing her. Is that true? She tried to kill you, my Lord. We can’t just let her walk free.”

Obviously, I couldn’t be sentimental or appeal to anyone’s ethics. “It doesn’t matter if it’s true, Captain,” I said. “All that matters is if she believes it.” I stared at him coldly. “Don’t question me again.” I looked around at him, then Mona, Asmodeus, and Ilmatar. “You told me yourselves. Paladins are hard to break. If we torture her, she will fight us all the more. It will only convince her of her righteousness and our sin. So I have decided to try something else.”

Ilmatar smiled and nodded knowingly. “Of course, Master. You are quite deceitful.” Which I assumed he meant as a compliment.

I looked over at Asmodeus, who was hovering a few paces behind us in silence. “We already know Asmodeus’s opinions on Vigorous Beastfolk,” I said dryly, and he gazed at me in embarrassment while Lucifron stood dumb-founded, eyes full of confusion. “But what do you think of this approach, Archivist?”

His eye widened for a moment, and he slunk backward as everyone turned to face him. “I agree,” he said. “I see no point in eliminating her until we’ve tried our Lord’s plan and seen how she responds.”

“So that just leaves you, Mona. You haven’t said anything.”

“I wonder why that is,” said Ilmatar. “The High Priestess would prefer Master put her in chains, perhaps.”

“Be quiet, Majordomo,” Mona and I both said, though her words were filled with more profanity than mine. He blinked nervously as his eyes passed between us, and then Mona and I looked at each other and smirked. I guess we were on the same wavelength about that, at least.

But was Ilmatar right? Did she feel any jealousy? I looked at her, but she only nodded curtly towards me. “You know best, Master.”

Which, to be honest, did not sound like her at all. But I sensed a disquiet in her eyes, as if she wished to move on.

“Lucifron, you may take your leave now. Ilmatar and Asmodeus, prepare the council chambers for today’s diplomatic meetings. High Priestess, stay here so I might have a word.”

They all bowed obsequiously before going off to do my bidding. When I gave a command, it happened. I felt aware of my power and the strangeness of it, the pure absurdity. At the same time, I couldn’t help but think of everyone whose fate now depended on my decisions. My stomach twisted into yet another knot.

Once the elevator departed and Lucifron’s light disappeared down the tunnel, I turned to Mona again and reached out, the back of my hand caressing her face. She closed her eyes and leaned into the gesture. We were finally alone again.

“It’s just … If you’d been alone last night, Master,” she said, “If I hadn’t been there, you’d be dead. And now we’re trying to act all nice to her? That’s all I mean to say.” She paused for a moment. “Earlier, you sensed my unease so easily. I feel like an open book to you.”

“I can read it on your face. And you said it yourself, I’m not alone. I have you to look out for me.” I smiled at her, but she only rolled her eyes.

“Just be careful,” she said. “Please?” Her eyes shone up at me. “Remember, everything depends on you. Your safety is the most important thing. Don’t get a soft spot for this dog girl just because she’s a wrathful self-righteous do-gooder. She’ll almost certainly force you to kill her someday. Now, please hold still because I have work to do.”

I opened my mouth, then closed it again as she reached into my front pocket and removed a black silk handkerchief I hadn’t even realized had been there. I had that the whole time? She carefully wiped the remaining stew off my face, then licked clean a small portion from my cheek that had resisted her attempts to soak it up.

“There,” she said. “All better.”

My skin still tingled where she had tasted me. There was one question I couldn’t get off my mind. “What do you think of the stew, anyway?”

“I don’t normally eat dog food,” she said. “But with your skin as my plate, I’ll happily make an exception.”

I must have blushed, for I felt hot all of a sudden. “Do demons normally eat, uh, molerat?”

She shrugged. “Some do. It’s gamier than void bat or sand dragon. Tastier than mud snapper, which I hate.” She must have understood my blank expression because she laughed. “Ah. Sometimes I forget, Master, how much you still have to learn.”

“I hope you’ll be able to teach me.”

She rolled her eyes but with a smile this time, which I considered a win. “I’ll teach you all of it,” she said, “if we live that long.” She reached past me to hit the call elevator button, never missing another opportunity to rub her body against me. “You didn’t say who you were meeting first.”

“Is both a bad idea?”

“Likely a terrible one unless you wish to cause an incident.”

“Imagining Ilen and the Princess duking it out does sound amusing,” I said. “Minister Ilen first, then. The Princess scares me a little.”

“As she should,” Mona said. She dropped her voice even further, and her head tilted back to whisper in my ear as her arms wrapped around me. “Remember, no spider children.”

“No spider children,” I repeated, raising my left hand as if swearing an oath. That was one request from Mona, at least, that I would have no trouble following.