Velnias took us deeper through the private prison block, farther to the east, where the prisoners in his care were being held. We kept a low profile, invisible and hiding whenever red lens daemons came out. Ramin, my eerily quiet feathered friend, didn’t move an inch inside my backpack. I occasionally checked to see if it was still alive, only to be greeted by its curious, bright eyes. It had the patience of a saint… I used my True Sight to spot them in advance, giving our team the precious extra seconds we needed to go behind one of the many meranium boxes lining the main alley.

We turned a corner to the left, following Velnias, but his arm shot out and he pushed me back. I kept the rest of my team from stumbling forward. Velnias then cursed under his breath. “Crap, they’ve added more guards tonight,” he said.

I craned my neck to the side and counted four daemons guarding one of the cells, with four more farther ahead. From what I could tell, Cells 5 and 6 had extra detail, while the rest of the smaller, shorter alley was empty. “Why?”

“Word is probably out that you and your people are looking for the Druid delegation,” Velnias replied. “This is a new measure, and no one told me about it. And that, young lady, is something I find extremely insulting. Stay here, out of sight, and don’t move until I signal you to come out.”

He stalked up to the four guards, visibly infuriated. “What are you stooges doing here?” he barked, his hands behind his back.

The daemons looked somewhat confused. “We were told to be here, sir.”

“You’re absolutely useless here! The outsiders are just back there,” Velnias shot back, pointing our way. I froze in my boots. Oh, crap. “I just saw them! Put your red lenses on and go get them!” he said, then motioned for the guards outside Cell 6. “You too! Go!”

“What the hell is happening here?” I croaked, pulling my twin swords out. My heart pounded as the daemons rushed toward us, fumbling through their tunic pockets for their red lenses.

“Don’t let them put on their lenses,” Hansa breathed, and shot out with her broadsword already drawn.

She was right: we had a good upper hand. The daemons were in such a panic to come after us that they had trouble finding their lenses—had we not been in such trouble, I would’ve laughed at them.

We came out and flanked all eight, two of whom had managed to put the lenses on. Caia and Blaze set them both on fire, then ran their swords through them. I tackled a third one, introducing him to both my blades, while Pheng-Pheng stung a fourth, then slit his throat.

Caspian, Fiona, and Jax took care of two more, then Pheng-Pheng and I took on the last two. We rushed around them, slashing our swords at them—enough to keep them distracted and with no time to reach for their red lenses.

I then caught a glimpse of Velnias leaning against the door of Cell 5, watching us with his arms crossed and a grin on his face. I will punch him. I will. Judging by his pose, however, Velnias hadn’t exactly betrayed us. This was probably some kind of test. I figured he wanted to make sure, just like the Manticore queen, that we were worth all the trouble and the risk.

Pheng-Pheng and I managed to kill the last of the daemon guards, then made our way to Velnias. My fists were itching to meet his face, still, but Hansa beat me to it. She punched Velnias hard, throwing his head to the side. Velnias grunted from the pain, then chuckled, holding his reddened jaw.

“Good grief, that is a mean left hook!” he exclaimed, then took his charmed keys out—each engraved with what looked like swamp witch symbols.

“What the hell was that for?” Hansa growled, still furious, as she put her sword away.

“It was easier to have you folks take care of them than to come up with some stupid excuse to send them away,” Velnias replied, then nodded at Blaze and Jax. “You two strapping young fellas, you should hide those bodies, unless you want a full red alert to go off as soon as someone comes by.”

Hansa groaned, rolling her eyes, then joined Blaze and Jax in the cleanup mission. Two minutes later, with the daemon corpses stashed behind Cell 9 farther down the road, they came back to Cell 5, just as Velnias twisted one of the keys in the lock and opened the door.

Inside were two fae—a couple, judging by how they held each other close, pale as sheets of paper and huddled in a corner. The meranium box was spacious enough for the two of them to live comfortably, but, in the long run, and especially after thousands of years, it still wasn’t enough.

The fae couple didn’t say anything, but the weary looks on their faces told me everything I needed to know—as did their faded, dark red auras, and the circles around their bluish eyes. Their bodies were weak, and they were both literally worn out. In fact, they were barely standing, and appeared to be in a tremendous amount of pain. Worst of all, they were scared of Velnias, who let a heavy sigh roll out of his chest as he closed the door behind us.

“Idris, Rayna, I see you two are still alive,” he said calmly. “I know this will come as a shock to you, but I’m not here to hurt you.” He handed them two spare red lenses and motioned for them to put them over their eyes. “You’re going to want to see this…”

The male fae, whom I identified as Idris, scoffed, his arms wrapped around Rayna’s petite torso. “That’s a new line, coming from the likes of you!”

“Idris, Rayna, he’s telling the truth,” Hansa said, stepping forward. “We’re here to help.”

The fae both stilled, then scrambled to put the lenses over their eyes. They gasped, staring at Hansa with surprise. “You’re… You’re a succubus,” Rayna breathed.

“That I am, yes,” Hansa replied with a nod and a soft smile. “I take it you haven’t seen one of us in a long time.”

“Thousands of years,” Idris said. “What are you doing here? How did you end up on Neraka?”

“Long story short, the Exiled Maras brought us here under false pretenses, and now we can’t get out until we find the swamp witch,” Hansa explained as briefly as possible, given the little time we had in this place.

They looked at us, measuring each member of our team from head to toe, their gazes settling on Vesta. A thought occurred to me as I compared their features to hers, and Rayna’s trembling lower lip and broken gasp confirmed my suspicions.

“Idris,” Rayna managed, pointing at Vesta. “It’s her… Our little Zara!”

“Whoa,” Vesta replied, her jaw dropping. “Wh-What’s happening? Who’s Zara?”

My gaze darted between them several times, just to make sure. Pale blue drowned out the dark red in the fae’s auras—a soft shade of genuine hope. After all the years they’d spent apart, their daughter had made her way back to them. Rayna was the first to burst into tears, swiftly followed by Idris.

“Vesta, they’re… I think we just found your parents,” I murmured.