FIFTY-FOUR
The dimension of Tenebrous
Perdishian Castle
You knew,” Sian bit out as he swung his fist into Rune’s face. The archer went reeling from the unexpected blow.
Eyes black with rage, Rune charged him. Sian charged back. They collided in the middle of Perdishian’s empty war room with the impact of two dragons.
“You knew she was Saetth’s fiancée,” Sian yelled. “And a spy!” This would be a close fight. Both could trace, both were around the same size. Sian was stronger than he’d ever been and older than Rune, but the archer was quick.
“Not at first.” Rune traced forward, his fist a blur as it connected with Sian’s throat. And again. “But I found out in time.”
Bellowing, Sian blocked and struck.
Pummeling each other, the two crashed into the walls until the black-stone keep quaked. Their blows echoed throughout the room.
“Why would you not tell me?” Sian swung, catching Rune in the jaw. “You were my friend!”
Rune bared his fangs, shoving Sian back. “I still am!”
“Then why?”
“Because I wanted to give her time to tell you.” Strike.
Block. “I never would have let myself feel more for her!”
“I didn’t do this lightly. You forget—I wanted to put an arrow in her heart.”
“You won’t godsdamned touch her!” Sian roared and traced, launching his fist with all his new might.
Rune hurtled across the room, crashing into the glass wall.
A crack forked out across the blast-proof expanse. If that glass broke, they would be sucked into the ether. . . .
Lila woke to the plaintive howls of hellhounds.
Blinking open her eyes, she sat up. She was naked on the floor of the bedroom?
The last thing she remembered was stepping into the fire. She patted her arms, legs, and face. Not burned? How long had she been out?
The sun was low in the sky. She must’ve been unconscious for hours. So what had happened to her during that interim? And how had she gotten here?
She stood unsteadily, her head as heavy as a bowling ball. Courtesy of the fire, her brain had been saturated with new information, her body with magic.
Lila was . . . changed.
In her mind’s eye, she could see every inch of this dimension and castle as though looking into a terrarium. This was how Abyssian viewed his realm! No wonder he’d been able to find her so quickly after her escape.
For some reason, she knew Graven hadn’t transferred Abyssian’s abilities to Lila. No, she had her own, equal to his—because she was the queen of hell, and Pandemonia was half hers. She felt it in every cell in her body.
Using her new talents, she searched for his presence. She detected Uthyr in the throne room, but the demon was gone. No doubt off to plan his fucking war.
The ground trembled as if with her fury. She frowned. Could she learn to control her surroundings? Closing her eyes for focus, she imagined one of Graven’s staircases sweeping left. It obeyed! She shifted another one to the right.
As she got the hang of this power, she opened and closed moving walls like a kid playing with a car window.
She made a small volcano erupt—with just a thought. Amazing! She fanned the winds over the sea. When the terrace curtains fluttered, the late-afternoon sun struck the diamond on the mantel, the concentrated sparkle catching her eye.
The demon had pledged his future to her. He’d promised to let go of the past. How could he break her heart, without a seeming care?
What if he returned and tried to imprison her again? This is my home now. The castle had chosen her to challenge, and Lila had boldly stepped into an inferno. In reward, Graven had anointed her with power.
If Lila wielded magic like Abyssian’s, then maybe she could banish him from this realm. Hell hath no fury like a hell queen scorned. She burned to make him pay.
He possessed no magic outside of Pandemonia, so how could he defeat hers? She recalled him telling her about one of his battle campaigns, stressing that field advantage was key in war.
Only one of hell’s two rulers is currently in this advantageous field.
She pictured the invisible border of the dimension, then imagined sheets of hell metal covering it, locking the boundaries down.
Locking him out. Only she had the key.
“Pandemonia is mine,” she murmured, hands balling into fists. “I control it.” She concentrated harder. “I want him gone. Lock him—and any who would help him—out. I forbid Abyssian to return.”
The hellfire had blessed her. He didn’t deserve this place.
He broke my heart.
Power thrumming through her, she swayed on her feet, sensing . . . success. She’d barred him from this dimension!
Though she savored this electric feeling of connectedness to Pandemonia, wanted to explore it even more, she had a mission to challenge her cousin.
But if she couldn’t wield hell’s magic in another realm, how could she defeat him? He would have the upper hand in every way.
He’s stronger. Faster. A legendary swordsman. Protected by guards. Backed by an army. Field advantage. More experienced. More devious.
In one of her many late-night conversations with Abyssian, Lila had said, “Maybe a more levelheaded fey regent could overthrow Saetth.”
He’d answered, “That king’s the strongest of his kind. He’s too powerful to be routed by another fey.”
She’d bitten her tongue, instead of voicing her thought: And Saetth knows it. Which is a vulnerability in itself. . . .
Her attention was again drawn to the mantel. The Lôtān head and the scepter seemed to call to her.
The moment grew dreamlike; yes, everything felt connected. This was why she’d been brought back for a second life.
Fate wanted Lila to be queen.
Suddenly she knew how to defeat Saetth.
She laughed at the solution, stamping her feet. By not defeating him at all. . . .