"We're going to need more than that." Maya tapped her foot. Behind her, the regiment continued to unpack their horses. Bringing the animals into a filthy environment littered with all sorts of debris likely to cause scrapes and abrasions would be a death sentence for half of them at least, so the plan was to leave them behind.

"Can't give you more." Ozra shook his head. "Technically, what I've already said could be judged to be in violation. If the judge was biased. Which they always are."

"Violation of what?" I asked, growing exasperated.

Ozra mimed sealing his lips shut.

I clasped the cold amulet on my neck, summoning Vogrin. The demon appeared, his stark visage drawing several gasps as nearby members of my regiment stared, then went on about their business without comment. Yet even now, no one was paying attention to Ozra.

"He's being coy." Vogrin said, rubbing his chin.

"Seems like a scouting opportunity." I suggested.

"Indeed." Vogrin rotated in mid-air, growing almost translucent as he approached the gate.

"Really wouldn't do that." Ozra called out.

Vogrin halted mid-flight, hand on the gate, twisting around to glower at Ozra. "I'm contracted. Even if there's something inside capable of killing me, my contract holder could bring me back within the hour."

"And if your sustained existence was my primary concern, you'd be correct in that assumption. In fact, I might even encourage you." Ozra stage-whispered to me. "He gets so very prickly when he dies."

I could relate. "Respectfully, Arch-fiend, is there any way you could be less circuitous?"

"Absolutely not. But if you all insist on smattering me with questions, let’s take this to a more private setting.” Ozra snapped his fingers, and the outside world grew hazy, trails of gray smoking separating me, Maya, Annette, and Vogrin from the rest of the regiment. Again, they didn’t seem to notice. An uncomfortable reminder of how powerful the arch-fiend was.

"Believe it or not, this is my lord and malefactor at his most generous. He seems to be in a magnanimous mood thanks to his vacation. These are all hints... frustrating as they are." Vogrin said tiredly. "So far we can draw the conclusion that there is a serious threat still lingering within the sewers, scouting is pointless, and permanent or temporary, my death is not the issue."

Ozra held up a finger. "A quick correction. I never said that scouting wouldn't help."

"You–" Vogrin bit off an angry retort, then rubbed his chin, mulling the new information over. "Ah. Scouting is not the issue. Me being the one to carry it out is where the problem lies."

"I tend to advise against strategic actions that will achieve nothing at best."

"If there's something in there, I will find it." Vogrin countered. Then frowned. "Yet my thoroughness is an attribute you've always valued. You're aware of that. So again, my aptitude is not the problem."

Ozra scanned the group expectantly.

It hit me later than it should have. "It's a safe assumption, based on context, that the arch-fiend is acting in good faith." When both Ozra and Vogrin scoffed, I amended. "Acting in as good of faith as a demon is capable of." That seemed to go over better, so I continued. "Considering his mood and demeanor, and the fact I don't think he's boorish enough to fabricate a problem where none exists, we can extrapolate that there's a real threat, he knows exactly what it is, and while he believes you're capable of finding it, you would---for some obscure demon reason---not be able to report it. 'Achieving nothing at best.'"

"I am anything but boorish." Ozra agreed.

"My mind went there as well." Vogrin agreed, growing visibly irritated. "But nothing connects. Soul-bound contracts favor the binder by design, that's the point. There's no temptation in a bad deal. Our contract supersedes almost any agreement or pact the asmodial legion holds."

Ozra nodded condescendingly. "What precise and accurate wording."

Vogrin's mouth opened, then slammed shut, the deathly pallor of his face growing lighter. "You can't be serious."

"There's another contract in play." Maya said, suddenly. She'd been watching the back-and-forth quietly until now, when she stepped to the forefront. "Demonic law has few absolutes. The verbiage is intentionally written to be riddled with loopholes and escape clauses."

"Favoring the demons, I assume?" Sera asked, clearly bemused by the entire exchange.

"Yes. But as an arch-fiend of a widespread and formidable legion, and the advantages to the greater hells the asmodial's current symbiotic position in the sanctum provides? Ozra holds enough authority and influence that even the prime evils would overlook much. It would take a clear-cut transgression that could be definitively proven. Something he would never do."

"And meddling with another legion's soul-bound contract is inexpiable. High treason to the hells, at best. It would most definitely fall in that category." Vogrin concurred, not looking at all happy about it.

"Never is such a strong sentiment." Ozra grinned, putting his sharpened teeth on full display. “It would, of course, be folly for a garden-variety arch-fiend to take such a risk. However, if the arch-fiend in question were owed favors by not one, but two of the sitting prime evils, he might find himself more willing to take the fall, as it were.”

"'He,'" Vogrin said, putting a great deal of enmity into the word, "would still be taking a massive risk. Even if his favors were substantive enough to counter something so egregious, we cannot cherry-pick which prime evil deigns to judge us."

Stolen novel; please report.

"You can't." Ozra agreed, letting the implication speak for itself.

I interrupted before Vogrin could bite back. "I think the more important question is, what would be worth calling in those favors?"

A silence fell over the group as all eyes turned to Ozra.

The arch-fiend gave me a sour look. "Cairn, ruiner of fun strikes again. Really—do you have any idea how many centuries it's been since I did a soft sell?"

"As a contracted demon, I have a responsibility to advise you. There is literally nothing this group could give him that would remotely approach the value of a favor from a prime evil. You could offer him the souls of every person here, including every single member of your regiment and it would still be cosmically uneven." Vogrin whispered in my mind.

"So it's bullshit?" I asked.

"My instinct is that, for the most part, his information is forthright. But he's playing a game to which only he knows the rules, with pieces only he can see. There's a remote possibility that his favors have a pending expiration, though I cannot fathom why, besides the potential onset of something unavoidable and cataclysmic on a global scale."

A chill shot down my spine, even as Maya pressed for more information. "Well? What would you ask in return?"

Ozra shrugged. "Nothing out of the ordinary. There are several souls here that interest me." He kicked off the wall, arms clasped behind his back as he looked around like a merchant inspecting wares, gaze settling on Sevran. "The infernal banner lord's soul is magnificent, but alas, he seems like the close-minded type." He casually turned, looking Maya over. "It's no secret I find you fascinating."

"No." I said.

Maya's mouth tightened. "You've never explained why. When our paths crossed in the enclave, you never gave me a second look."

"The loyalty you so unflinchingly hold always shone through. And loyalty born from love is vastly superior to loyalty begotten from dogma. But none of that changes the reality that loyalty on its own, is rather boring." Ozra smirked. "Self-hatred, however, is far more interesting. I've been around a long time. Watched countless mortals that hated themselves half as much as you put a swift end to their pitiable existence, unable to bear the thought of another wretched day. But not you. The way your loyalty coerces you to channel that perfect hatred into drive?" He chuckled to himself. "That is truly something special."

"None of that guarantees I'd be an asset, just as my loyalty to another does not assure my loyalty to you."

"I think it's safe to say she's not interested." I interjected flatly.

"Pipe down, ruiner of fun."

"You don't have to listen to this." I said to Maya. Just because she looked unbothered didn't mean he wasn't getting to her. Maya always maintained a stoic facade in stressful situations.

"I don't. But he's leading up to something." Maya squinted at Ozra. "You've been hinting at it ever since we were reunited. I'd rather hear it now than later, when I'm bleeding out and desperate."

A fetid breeze ruffled Ozra's hair, and he closed his eyes, savoring the moment. He held out a hand that was mostly human, save the long needled nails, and held it palm up. "I'd like to inspect the necklace, if you please."

Maya slowly withdrew the amulet that housed Kastramoth, her hellhound summon.

"Not that one, infernal."

The reaction was instantaneous as Maya froze. Painstakingly slowly, she withdrew the locket that housed a shard of the enchanted mirror. "You were watching me. In the sanctum."

"Long enough to realize that at the pace you were going, you were not long for this world." Ozra opened one eye and peered at her. "Did you really believe that gaggle of idiots you saved from the wyvern were grateful enough to search the entire hoard for the one legendary artifact capable of keeping you alive?"

"Demons do not gift freely." Maya's complexion flushed. "This is a lie. A cheap trick."

"My tricks are priceless. And I was only watching over you because someone asked me to." He cast a meaningful look at me. "The locket, please."

Maya gripped the locket tightly, grip finally slackening as she handed it over. Ozra popped open the locket and withdrew the shard, discarding the housing and holding it up to the sun. "Even in this sad, diminished state, it pains me to hold it. I always wondered. Did you know of its divine origins, before putting it to the uses you did?"

"Yes." Maya stared at the ground, her voice hollow.

Ozra stared into the shard, thoughtful. "You speak as if I've never seen you, expatriated from your loyalty. But I know exactly who you are once severed from it. When I imparted this, I expected the rage was a fugue you'd wake up from. Instead, I watched, spellbound, as you stripped away every weakness, amputating every inconvenience, forging yourself into---"

"A monster." Maya spat, bitterly.

Ozra shook his head slowly. "No, infernal. A masterpiece. Or the very precipice of one. A perfect fusion of brutality and efficiency, constantly iterating and evolving. And as there is no greater tragedy than an artist denied her brush..." The arch-fiend snapped his fingers, and a whirlwind of reflective mirror fragments assembled around the shard.

Maya's eyes widened. "It was dust. Nothing left but that single shard."

"It's been something of an undertaking. But I believe the time and effort will be worth it. Unfortunately, the divine energy held within it is long gone," Ozra's face was a mask of focus, as he reconstituted the mirror, the spider webbing cracks disappearing slowly. The mirror—once cloudy and light—gained clarity as it changed tone, growing darker by the second. On the ground nearby, the locket melted, floating dots of liquid gold floating up towards the mirror, forming a thin frame. "Thankfully, there's a convenient substitute. Just as powerful, and far less picky about the manner it is used."

"Stop." Maya held out a hand. "This was to satisfy my curiosity. My soul was never on the table. No matter what you offer, that will not change."

"There's that word again." Ozra chuckled. "Make no mistake. I never intended to ransom this. Nor to extort you over certain details I'm all but certain were glossed over in the retelling." Maya recoiled and stared at the ground again. "But we both know there's something only I can give you. Something you would trade your soul for in an instant. Consider this a loan, lent without interest, due the day you decide you're ready for that conversation." The now complete mirror floated out of Ozra's palm and hovered in front of Maya.

Reject it. Tell him you want nothing to do with it.

I urged silently, hoping my feelings would reach her. As far as I could tell, there wasn't a trap. But if Maya accepted it, it meant Ozra had his foot in the door. As much as I wanted to argue, it wasn't my decision to make. It was hers.

"And if that day never comes?" Maya asked, taking the mirror and studying her own reflection.

"Then I have returned an artist her brush, and will consider it my good deed for the millennia." Ozra sighed. Then suddenly changed tact, perking up. "And of course, there's someone truly special. A soul that brought new magic into the world, after centuries of stagnancy, one that I have heard no end of." His gaze landed on Annette.

My sword leapt into my hand, propelled by wind, as demon-fire ignited the blade. I pressed the point against his neck, and when I spoke, my voice was raw.

"Enough."

He chuckled, never looking away from my sister. "How long have the nightmares plagued you?"