We had a limited supply of invisibility paste with us, and we hadn’t found any on the daemon we’d captured to get us down here, so we decided to only use it if we had no other choice. We snuck through the outskirts of the city, making good use of all the nooks and crannies in the black stone wall that extended into the massive dome ceiling.

We used stairs and hid behind boulders, taking short one-minute breaks where appropriate, to calculate the next portion of our route and get closer to where Caspian said his friend lived. I had a hard time imagining Caspian’s daemon friend, but he certainly wasn’t going to be the strangest or craziest thing we’d seen all week.

The lights were always on in this underground city, so there was barely any notion of night and day passing, other than a town clock announcing yet another hour gone. We followed Caspian behind a cluster of dirty old huts, crouching to stay out of sight. Small, weak, and old daemons lived on this side, and they were out and about, growling and grumbling at each other. The occasional insult was hurled, causing the others to snicker at the daemon on the receiving end.

“Call them neighborly pleasantries, if you wish,” Caspian muttered, his jade eyes twinkling with amusement when he noticed the frown on my face.

“Yeah, I don’t see myself mowing my lawn and saying hello to one of these fellows anytime soon,” I replied.

He gave me a half-smile, then reached out to the side of the hut, where a cart was stationed. Several dirty black cloaks were piled up in it—he grabbed them, then handed them over to me, keeping one for himself. I took one, and passed the others to Jax and Hansa, who made sure Caia and Blaze each got a cloak as well.

“Put these on,” Caspian whispered. “And keep your heads down. We can pass as weaklings while we move forward. My friend’s place is about a hundred yards away from here.”

I nodded and covered myself up, then proceeded to follow Caspian as he snuck between rocky huts. A spine-chilling wave of squeals stopped me in my tracks, and I looked over my shoulder to identify the source. Jax, Hansa, Blaze, and Caia stilled next to me as we witnessed the feeding of the poor.

A larger daemon dragged a cart up the narrow road. It was loaded with a cage filled with wild animals the daemon had captured from outside—mostly deer and boar-like creatures that squirmed and whimpered as they got closer to a small gathering of elder daemons.

“Those living in these parts of the city are too weak to hunt for themselves, but they still provide labor,” Caspian said, following my gaze. I watched as the cage was flung open, but the animals were too scared to come out. Instead, the daemons went in and started dragging them out, their red eyes glimmering with delight as they tore flesh from bone and ate the meat raw, blood smearing their chins and saggy, wrinkled chests. “So they’re fed by the city and kept alive, as they clean up and do various other duties that are considered too demeaning for the others.”

“Demeaning?” I murmured, as we continued walking through the poorest parts of the daemon city.

“Yes. Things that hunters and soldiers cannot be tasked with doing. Jobs that are not fit for merchants, servants, and nobles,” Caspian replied.

“They have nobles here?” Jax asked, constantly looking around, making sure we weren’t followed or noticed.

“Of course,” Caspian said. “They have hierarchies in place, like an organized society, and that includes royal and noble blood.”

We followed him deeper into a section of rounded, igloo-shaped huts made from black obsidian blocks. They looked cleaner and smoother than what we’d seen so far. The daemons here were quiet and kept away from the crowded main street that stretched about fifty yards to our left.

“This is where clerics live,” Caspian explained. “The others leave them alone, mainly because the king likes them. Their service to local deities isn’t valued in any way, but the king is amused and fascinated by their ancient customs, which long precede him, so he leaves them be.”

“You’re awfully chatty about daemons now,” I noticed, raising an eyebrow at him.

He gave me a brief sideways glance as I kept up with him.

“These aren’t secrets anymore. You are here, walking among them. The least I can do is explain what you’re seeing,” he replied bluntly. “Anyway, we are here.”

We stopped in front of a small hut. Caspian checked our surroundings, and then we went inside. The place looked nice and rather spacious. Orange lights flickered on wall-mounted shells, and furs lined the floor. There were several crates piled on one side, and a small firepit dug in the middle. It was currently being used for boiling water infused with pleasant-smelling herbs.

An old daemon shot to his feet as soon as he saw us, a glimmer of recognition in his eyes at the sight of Caspian, followed by concern as he measured each of us from head to toe.

“It’s okay, Mose,” Caspian said. “They’re here to help the Nerakians.”

Mose looked to be in his mid-sixties, his long black hair riddled with thick white streaks pouring into a ponytail. Red and yellow beads were braided into the hair on top of his head, and he wore a simple black tunic that left only his arms and calves uncovered. There was a medallion around his neck that caught my eye—a silver triangle mounted in a circle, with a black enamel center on which a familiar symbol had been painted red.

“Are they the ones you spoke of, Lord Kifo?” Mose asked, taking several wary steps forward to get a better look at us.

“Yes, Mose. We need to talk,” Caspian replied, as Mose motioned for us to sit around the firepit and pulled a black curtain over the hut’s entrance, before he sat down across the fire from us.

“What are you all doing here?” Mose asked, his red eyes on Caspian.

“I’m under oath and cannot tell them everything they need to know, but you can help fill in some of the blanks,” Caspian said, his knee touching mine as he crossed his legs in his seated position.

Silence fell between us for a minute, while I tried to read Mose’s emotions. I’d not had any luck with the other daemons I’d encountered, and Mose was just as immune to my sentry abilities. My shoulders dropped. I’d known the chances were slim, but still, can’t blame a girl for trying…

“What do you wish to know?” Mose eventually asked, his gaze fixed on me. “You can ask, instead of trying to poke around in my head.”

My cheeks flushed as I realized he’d felt me just then.

“So you can sense when I try to read your mind,” I mumbled, and Mose responded with a nod.

“You can’t read me, but I can definitely feel you trying,” he replied. “Word’s already out about you, young lady. The hunters you faced came back with interesting stories.”

“Okay then, let’s start with some basics.” I leaned forward. “How old are you, Mose?”

“Seventy-one thousand, nine-hundred, and ninety-nine full moons. And I’ve yet to know your name, young lady.”

I blinked several times, doing quick math in my head.

“My apologies. I am Harper,” I said, then nodded at the rest of our team. “These are Jax, Hansa, Caia, and Blaze. We are members of GASP. And you’re… six thousand years old?”

“I believe so, yes,” Mose replied, looking at each of us for a couple of seconds, as if putting our names to our faces. His gaze settled on Jax. “You’re a Mara.”

“Yes, I am,” Jax said.

“But you’re not from here.”

“No, I’m from Calliope.”

“Ah, the world from which our Nerakian Maras were exiled.” Mose scoffed, the shadow of a smile flickering over his face.

“Tell us about your species,” I said, content with having the lead in this conversation. There were so many questions I wanted to ask.

“That’s a broad request,” Mose smirked, “but I will do my best to tell you as much as I can, without putting my own life at risk.”

“What, so you’re under oath, too, or something?” I frowned, already sensing I wouldn’t get all the answers I’d hoped for.

“We all answer to higher powers in this world, Miss Harper. But, to answer your request, we are daemons. Our kind has inhabited this world since the beginning of time. We inhabited cities beneath the surface of Neraka—hundreds of them, linked by tunnels spanning hundreds, even thousands of miles.”

Jax rubbed the back of his neck, cringing as he heard the painfully unpleasant truth: there were more daemons out there than we’d thought. We definitely couldn’t take them all on by ourselves.

“You mean to tell me there are more of you out there?” Jax replied.

“Yes. Tens of thousands.” Mose nodded. “But this is the capital city. It is the home of our king, Shaytan, ruler of all daemons. We thrive in the underground, away from the sunlight, bathed in volcanic heat.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Hansa shot back, wiping the sweat from her face. I wasn’t too far behind her as far as level of discomfort, and, judging by the glistening beads forming on Caspian’s temple, he was coming in third, along with Jax. Blaze and Caia seemed comfortable.

Figures…

“What about soul eating?” I asked.

“We feed on souls. I’m not sure what is unclear about that.” Mose shrugged. “In the absence of souls, however, we eat raw flesh. When we are young, we are able to hunt and provide for ourselves, especially where souls are concerned. The older we get, however, the weaker our bodies become, and we’re reduced to eating meat. In this day and age, becoming old and not being royalty, military, or nobility, you are automatically bumped to the bottom of the food chain and reduced to living in these slums, taking the mercy food that hunters bring in from the surface.”

“Like the cages we saw outside, stuffed with living, wild animals,” I muttered with disgust.

“Yes. And I’d say that beats eating souls, don’t you think?” Mose retorted. I gave him a brief nod. “What you probably do not understand about soul eating is how exhilarating it can be. One soul can keep you sated for days, even weeks on end. Raw meat barely gets us through the day. We don’t experience hunger like the Imen do. Our stomachs do not ache for sustenance. Our entire bodies do. Soul eating is painfully addictive, Miss Harper, and weaning off it can be deadly. We need plenty of raw meat to quench some of the urges. So, yes, our city helps us—as long as we prove to be useful. Once we are no longer able to support our society in any way, we are no longer fed.”

“Survival of the fittest taken to a new extreme, I see,” I replied. “Survival of the useful, sounds more like it. And after all these years of service, are daemons just okay with being tossed aside like that?”

“They don’t have a choice. That is how our world works.” Mose shrugged, with a tinge of sadness in his voice. “The day will come when I will experience that same end. Just not yet. I still have a few years ahead of me, and I plan to put them to good use.”

“Is that why you’re helping us?” Jax asked.

“Not exactly. To tell you the truth, soul eating wasn’t always a part of our nature as daemons. It started out about… ten, eleven thousand years ago. We don’t know who discovered it and how; it just became the norm. It has turned my people into beasts, a degenerate mass of violent soul eaters, and we’ve systematically reduced the Imen’s population on the surface of Neraka. There used to be millions of them…”

There was a collective gasp among us as we came to terms with the horrible truth. The Imen were the primary targets of daemons, and they were nearing extinction because of this soul eating practice.

“Since the Imen population has been dwindling, my people have resorted to feeding off the Maras lately,” Mose continued, shaking his head with contempt. “I swore off souls a long time ago… not because I couldn’t hunt anymore, but because I saw the cruelty of our ways. I couldn’t do it anymore. Of course, I’m a mere underling, a nobody. No one noticed when I got clean. The same cannot be said about the others, higher up.”

“Higher up?” I asked.

“I’m part of the slums. The workers and the dying old. Well, technically I’m a cleric, as I preserve the daemon lore archives for the king’s reading pleasure, but I still go out and clean the streets if needed. I do not wish to live at the mercy of an insane monarch. Above us are the soldiers, the armored daemons. The military is a key part of our society. They enforce laws and some sense of order. Then come the hunters, given invisibility magic so they can go out to the surface and fetch us our food. There are thousands of them. They start off by hunting animals for us, and they get paid in souls. Once they become strong enough, they can choose to become independent hunters, and provide sustenance for themselves and their children only.”

“Daemons raise families?” Jax replied, frowning as he probably tried to imagine a daemon family scene. I was doing the same and, for the life of me, no clear picture came to mind.

“Not exactly,” Mose said. “The males choose their females to mate. The females are given custody of the child for the first seven years, then the males take them away to raise them strong and teach them how to survive in our society.”

“And what happens to the females after that?” Hansa asked, her gaze slowly darkening as her hands balled into fists.

“They’re chosen by other males to produce more children. Once the children reach adulthood, they are given options for what to do with their lives. Most of the females go on to bear children of their own, but some become hunters or even join the military.”

A few minutes went by as the picture began to clear, as far as the daemon society was concerned. Their behavior started making sense, but it didn’t make me want to sympathize with any of them. If anything, it made my stomach churn harder at the thought of mothers being forced to separate from their children like that. It was downright heartbreaking…

“We saw some huge daemons out there,” Jax then said. “Much bigger than the… hunters, and even the armored fiends we’ve seen on the surface. What are they? They must have some special role.”

“Yes, they’re Legions.” Mose nodded, fear flickering in his eyes. “Generals that command our armies. There are dozens of them in each city, and believe me, you do not wish to cross them. Sometimes, they get involved in hard labor just to show the others that they can get down and dirty despite their high rank. It’s our military’s way of keeping its soldiers rooted. Nobody wants an arrogant mass of muscle thinking he’s better than others in his rank. And the Legions answer to the Seven Princes, the seven sons of Shaytan. His firstborn sons, to be precise, because the king spawns dozens of offspring each year, but only the first seven are granted a chance at the throne. He’s been around for three thousand years now, though, and he’s not going away anytime soon.”

“So the Seven Princes command the military?” I asked.

“Not just the military,” Mose replied. “They form the Council in charge of the day-to-day running of our kingdom and our capital city. Their younger brothers are assigned to the other cities, in equal groups of seven.”

“How many sons does Shaytan have?” Caia’s eyes widened.

“Honestly, we’ve lost track. He takes some new wife every two years or so. He has dozens of those already, so he is never short of heirs. He doesn’t discard the wives after they give birth; he likes his palace rooms filled with beautiful females and his offspring, I suppose.” Mose shrugged. “But it’s the Seven Princes who call the shots and help him govern. I will give you their names, so you know who to target when your armies come to Neraka.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure that’s—”

“That is very kind of you. Thank you, Mose,” Caspian interrupted me. I bit my tongue then, realizing that we couldn’t risk our one ally on the daemon side learning of our hopefully temporary issue with getting GASP over to Neraka.

“The first born is Cayn. He is ruthless and has a filthy soul. He will most likely succeed his father on the throne. The second is Abeles, followed by Garros, Mammon, Karellen, Adaris, and the youngest on the Council, Zane. They are very different but share common goals, which is why the Council ultimately works in passing decisions around the kingdom. King Shaytan signs off on all of them, though.”

“Are there other species inhabiting Neraka?” Caia then asked. “Aside from the Imen, Maras, and daemons, that is. Perhaps fae, swamp witches?” Jax, Hansa, Blaze, Caspian, and I looked at her with confusion, and she gave us a defensive shrug. “What? I’m just trying all avenues here, because this whole swamp witch magic thing still doesn’t make sense to me, and neither does Vesta’s presence!”

Caia was still trying to wrap her head around the fae who had helped us in the Valley of Screams during our rescue mission. To be honest, we were just as baffled as she was, and the fact that Vesta didn’t know anything about her past only served to amplify the mystery around her.

“It used to be a much livelier planet, I’ll tell you that.” Mose sighed. “There were other creatures living on the surface, but I don’t know what became of them. I haven’t seen their kind in centuries. I suppose that’s what happens when daemons become the dominant species… We consume everything in our path…”

“What can you tell us about them?” Caia replied.

Mose’s head turned as he picked up noises from outside. His eyes flared bright red, and he looked at us, fear draining the color from his face.

“Quick, hide! The crates,” he whispered, and we scrambled to our feet. Voices became clearer outside the hut.

“What’s happening, Mose?” Caspian breathed, visibly confused.

“They’ve come for me,” the old daemon replied, motioning for us to hurry. Caia, Blaze, Jax, and Hansa were the first to hide behind the stack of crates, several feet away from the firepit.

“What do you mean? Why?” Caspian frowned, then pushed me to join the rest of my team. I stumbled and landed on top of Hansa, who groaned and helped me back to my feet. We all crouched.

“Nothing for you to worry about.” Mose shook his head as he nudged Caspian into our hiding spot. “Just stay hidden, and, if I don’t make it back, you keep going with our plan, Lord Kifo. Just keep going.”

“Wait, how can I not worry if you follow up with ‘if I don’t come back’, Mose?” Caspian was frustrated, and I felt the need to hold his arm, just to make sure he wouldn’t leave my side.

Mose grabbed a metal bowl and scooped ashes from the dying firepit, which he scattered over us. I covered my mouth and nose so as not to choke on it, while we all huddled closer together.

“This will keep your scent hidden in closed quarters with daemons,” Mose explained briefly, then straightened his back and turned to face the door, just as two grunts came in.

Caspian’s arm pulled me close into him, and we crouched and listened quietly.

“It’s your turn today, Mose,” one of the daemons said, his voice rough and low. I’d only caught a glimpse of them, but I’d registered their impressive height and size. They made the hut look tiny.

“No way to avoid this any longer,” the other added.

We heard Mose clear his throat as he shuffled toward the exit.

“I hear you, I hear you,” he replied, cursing under his breath.

“It won’t take longer than a couple of hours,” the first daemon grumbled.

“Unless they catch you lying.” The other scoffed as all three left the hut.

We waited for a couple of minutes, and I used my True Sight to watch as the daemons escorted Mose up an alley leading toward the city center, where the giant tower stood, surrounded by palace walls.

“What the hell?” I gasped, staring at Caspian.

“I’m just as in the dark as you are,” he replied, as we emerged from our hiding spot. “He’s supposed to have good standing in the city. On one hand because of his role as a cleric, but also because he helps around the city. Shaytan looks favorably upon elders with a… sense of civic duty.”

“At least we learned a new trick with the ashes,” Caia replied, dusting herself off.

“What do we do now?” I asked, checking the areas outside the hut. Barely a handful of daemons were around, all of them old, weak, and barely moving, supporting their weight on gnarled wooden canes.

“We should wait here for Mose to come back,” Caspian replied. “You heard the grunts. I doubt Mose will willingly get himself in trouble here. Besides, this place gives us a good vantage point.”

He moved toward one of the two small, circular windows I hadn’t seen before, hidden beneath a layer of black cloth. He slowly lifted the fabric to peek outside.

“Do you think he’ll be back? I mean, do you think they’ll let him go?” I murmured, not feeling too optimistic in a city as savage as this.

“I don’t know.” Caspian sighed, his shoulders dropping. “But if he doesn’t, we can keep moving in a couple of hours. We can devise a plan, and I can show you a few more useful parts of the city, in case Mose doesn’t return. He is right. I must go on, with or without him…”

I found myself in awe of Caspian. So many secrets concealed behind those jade eyes. Such a strong sense of duty and such a desire to help the innocent… and yet he wasn’t actively working with his own species on this.

I was intrigued and filled with even more questions, but at least we’d learned something about the daemons. Most importantly, we’d learned that Fiona’s abductor, Zane, was one of the Seven Princes, and a son of the king of daemons. I didn’t have time to properly digest that particular nugget, given the sudden arrival of those grunts, but whoa…

Fiona had been abducted, then released by a prince of daemons. What had been his end game? What was he hoping to achieve with that? I wished I could simply call Fiona, or use Telluris to tell her, but… that was obviously out of the question.

Besides, I had a feeling that by the time we saw each other again, I’d have a lot more to tell her about this city and its evil, soul-eating inhabitants…