Several hours passed as we waited in Mose’s hut, but there was no sign of him. I kept scanning the area, watching daemons as they moved around, but I couldn’t see Mose anywhere.

“What if he’s not coming back?” I asked, breaking the silence that had settled over us for about ten minutes. “What if they’ve detained him? Has he told you anything about why they might come looking for him in the first place, Lord Kifo?”

“No, and that’s what bothers me the most,” Caspian replied, leaning against the wall as he peeked through the window. “He is leading an underground resistance, of sorts, but they can’t possibly trace it back to him. He’s been extremely careful until now… I don’t get it.”

“A resistance?” Jax frowned, still sitting next to Hansa by the small firepit in the middle. “A resistance against what?”

“Against King Shaytan,” Caspian explained. “Believe it or not, there are plenty of daemons out there who don’t agree with this… lifestyle of theirs. They’re not all monsters.”

“No, only the ones in charge.” I scoffed, shaking my head slowly.

“Daemons are not born evil, Miss Hellswan.” Caspian’s jade gaze pierced through me like an intense laser beam. “They are made evil by the system in which they’ve been raised. However, there are daemons who reject the doctrine, who refuse to hurt other creatures. But soul eating is a powerful tool that the king uses to enslave his own people. All it takes is one taste, and that’s it. It becomes nearly impossible to break free. You have to feed again. And again. And again. The hunger manifests in the form of excruciating pain, and it takes a lot of strength and support from others in order to break free. And what support can these creatures get from a society that is convinced there’s no other way besides eating souls in the first place?”

“You talk as if you’ve experienced this firsthand,” I muttered, watching the colors around him change to a deep red with waves of dark gray. Something bothered him. I’d struck a nerve.

“I’ve seen the effects of it. I’ve seen what it looks like when the soul courses through your veins, and I’ve seen what it does to your body once you deprive it of such powerful energy,” Caspian replied, shifting his gaze to what lay beyond the window.

“What do we do, though?” Blaze interjected, while Caia played with the flames in the pit, her fingers moving as she raised little swirls of fire from the pile of burning wood. “We can’t just stay here forever…”

“I agree, we should go out.” I nodded. “Maybe check their military resources… their prison… They must have one.”

“They most certainly do,” Caspian replied, then straightened his back as he saw something outside, something worthy of his full attention. “Wait. There’s movement in the main square. They’re all rushing to it…”

I used my True Sight, confirming what Caspian had just observed. Daemons of all shapes and sizes were pouring down the alleys leading into the city center, where the palace and giant tower awaited.

“Should we go see what that’s about?” I asked Jax and Hansa, who noticed the enthusiasm in my voice.

“You sound excited.” Hansa raised an eyebrow.

“More like bored.” I shrugged. “I’m tired of waiting around.”

“Let’s go,” Jax replied, then stood up. “But we’ll have to use the invisibility spell. We can’t risk being in the middle of a daemon crowd without it.”

Hansa, Blaze, and Caia sprang to their feet, and Jax dispensed portions of what was left of our invisibility spell paste. We had to swipe some from hunter daemons the first chance we got, if we wanted to leave the underground city without letting the dragon loose and getting into a fight we may not be able to win.

We swallowed the paste and held hands, waiting for the spell to kick in. Caspian took one of my hands, while Hansa held onto the other, with Jax, Caia, and Blaze following closely. We left the hut and snuck through the narrow streets leading into the city, staying close to the walls to avoid the engorging crowd, and occasionally hiding in various nooks and side alleys to calculate our next steps.

The king’s palace towered over us, its shiny black walls reflecting the amber flames burning below. We were less than fifty yards from a massive swarm of daemons that had gathered outside the palace steps, where armed guards had lined up—about twenty of them at the base and another twenty at the top of the stairs.

“I think it’s best if we get as close to those stairs as possible,” Jax whispered, as we watched more daemons joining the others in the main square.

We had a good viewing angle from our spot. I could see a large, rectangular space in front of the palace stairs, lined by servants, who kept the rest of the crowd at bay.

“Got it,” I replied. Caspian squeezed my hand tighter.

He guided me back out into the main street, and the others followed. We walked on the edge toward the gathering. We reached the main square and slipped through the crowd, and Caspian got us closer to the palace steps. We came to a halt at the sound of massive drums beating somewhere behind the upper line of armed guards. The rhythm was solid and intense, each thud loud enough to send shivers down my spine. The daemons growled and roared around us.

They all grinned, excited and restless as they waited for something.

“Fall back,” a daemon shouted, his voice echoing across the square.

The armed guards at the top obeyed and split into two groups, leaving room in the middle of the platform for a group of six large daemons to come through. They resembled each other, as far as facial features were concerned, and were uniformly dressed in black leather, with fur coats hanging loosely on their shoulders. They carried bejeweled broadswords on their gold belts, and gold threads were woven on their twisted horns.

Royalty of some kind…

“All hail the Six Princes!” the same voice announced. I used my True Sight to scan the area and found the drummers, along with a daemon dressed in dark red, somewhere behind the giant columns framing the main entrance into the palace.

“Wait, six? I thought there were seven,” I whispered. There were several feet of space around us, and the crowd was far too loud for anyone to hear me.

“There are seven princes. I guess one of them isn’t here,” Caspian breathed, then shushed me, pulling me closer. I could feel the warmth of his body seeping into mine. I kept myself glued to him, watching the scene at the top of the palace stairs unfold before us.

The princes nodded, and the commoners and the crowd erupted in cheers and whistles. Judging by their reactions, the king’s sons were quite popular. But not as popular as the king himself, I noted, as silence fell heavy over the square.

King Shaytan emerged from the palace, and roars of adoration and worship exploded from every single daemon around us. I could see it on their faces—the broad smiles, the flaming red eyes, and the feverish hand gestures. Whatever the king said, they gobbled it up. It didn’t come as much of a surprise, though. The guy was… huge. King Shaytan was bigger than all the other daemons I’d seen so far, including the massive ones lugging Imen cages around. His skin carried a bronze tan, his muscles perfectly sculpted on his enormous frame. He wore golden chainmail around his waist, snugly strapped with a bejeweled belt just below his narrow hips. A giant piece of animal fur rested on his back, a thick gold chain keeping it over his shoulder—whatever animal it had belonged to, it was either extremely rare or even extinct, as I’d never seen that zebra-like pattern anywhere else. The black and white contrast definitely made him stand out, though…

A sturdy and beautifully crafted gold crown rested on his head; his long salt-and-pepper hair was braided into thick dreadlocks, sewn with gold thread, and caught with a thick gold bangle at the back. His horns were significantly longer and thicker than the others’, twisting twice as they curved downward, nearly reaching his buttocks. He held a long, slim staff made entirely out of gold, with a large, oval red garnet crystal mounted at the top. It looked as though two golden claws swirled around it. It had a peculiar glimmer, amplified by the fires burning in copper wall sconces behind him.

His arms, his chest, and his abdomen were covered in black tattoos, a myriad of geometric symbols displayed in vertical rows, dancing over the ropes of muscle with every move he made. I gripped Caspian’s arm tighter, my fingers digging into his flesh; he returned the gesture by wrapping his spare arm around me. I was genuinely scared at the sight of the daemon king—and with good reason, too.

He was, by far, the strongest I had ever seen of his kind, and his people adored and obeyed him. We are in so much freakin’ trouble…

King Shaytan raised his arms slowly, prompting the crowd to go quiet all of a sudden.

“For too long have we kept to the underground,” he spoke, his voice low and downright seductive. No wonder he had no trouble getting new wives every year! “For too long, we’ve allowed others to consume the souls that are rightfully ours.”

The crowd went wild, cheering him on, before he raised his hands again to demand silence—they sealed their lips shut in response.

“Rightfully ours? Seriously?” I whispered, mostly to myself. Caspian squeezed my shoulder, reminding me to keep quiet.

I lifted my head to get a better look, and noticed a large, empty space at the bottom of the stairs. King Shaytan clapped his hands once, and the ground started shaking beneath us. My blood froze as I used my True Sight and spotted the source of that instantaneous mini-earthquake. About a thousand large daemons marched from the side, filling the space I’d just seen in front of the palace stairs.

They were massive grunts, clad in heavy armor and carrying shields, spears, and broad rapiers with ivory handles. They came to a halt in the middle, then turned to face the crowd, their faces seemingly carved from stone.

“For too long have we allowed those bloodsuckers up there to keep us from thriving as we should,” King Shaytan continued, his voice booming across the square. “And now, they have the audacity to call their friends from whatever dirty rock they came from in the first place! It is time we teach them a lesson. Last night’s… fireworks were just a taste of what’s to come!”

Fireworks… Oh, wow, that’s how he’s chosen to refer to the explosions that claimed the lives of dozens of innocent Imen and Maras. I was disgusted, my stomach churning.

Servant daemons moved through the newly formed garrison, checking that their breastplates and large cuffs were mounted properly, occasionally tugging at and tying loose strings. Others carried wicker baskets around, from which they handed out small leather pouches to each grunt. I had a feeling those were invisibility spell supplies.

“Tonight, my dear subjects,” King Shaytan grinned, his red eyes beaming as he scanned the crowd, “tonight we teach those newcomers not to underestimate our glorious species anymore! Soldiers!”

The grunts let out a collective roar, then turned to face their king. The crowd around us grew restless, unable to take their eyes off Shaytan. Their adulation was starting to creep me out.

“Go into Azure Heights, and bring me those newcomers,” the king ordered, and the grunts nodded. “Bring them alive. All of them. Especially the dragon. I need a new pet, anyway…”

The air left my lungs. Ice poured through my veins as I instinctively started looking around me—I couldn’t see Blaze standing next to us, of course, though he was there. Several scenarios started rumbling through my head, but none ended with any of us walking out of this mess alive.

The king of daemons was about to send an army after us. The entire city of Azure Heights was vulnerable. Half of us were in here already, while Scarlett, Patrik, Avril, Hansa, and Fiona were back there.

We have to do something… We can’t let the daemon army go.

We’re… We’re so screwed…