Cera snorted. “Fat chance of that. Here, women are meant to please the eye. Not pluck them out with blades. That’s men’s work. Let’s go. The lord awaits you.”
Cera turned, hurrying into the hall. Ursula quickened her pace to keep up with Cera as she crossed the bridge, the wind whipping her auburn hair into her face.
When she crossed into the half-shattered atrium, her heart skipped a beat. A metal cage stood in the center, with a hinged door. It looked like something that belonged in a medieval torture chamber. “Um, what is this, exactly?”
Cera yanked open the door. “Don’t be afraid. On Earth, I believe you call this an elevator.”
Ursula glanced up at the thick steel chain that rose from the cage’s ceiling. “Right.” As
Cera held the door open, Ursula stepped inside. Without entering, Cera closed the door on Ursula.
“You’re not coming?” asked Ursula.
The little demon crossed the smashed tile. “No. The lord only requested your presence.”
Ursula wrapped her hands around the elevator’s bars, watching as Cera pulled a lever. A great creaking noise pierced the air, and the rattling chain slowly lifted the cage from the ground.
“Good luck!” shouted Cera from below.
Chapter 9
The cage rose slowly, swinging gently from side to side with metallic groans. Ursula laced her fingers through the bars to steady herself. A chilly wind rushed over Ursula’s skin, raising goosebumps.
On her journey upward, she passed one balcony after another. This place was enormous—practically its own city. Except, as she passed each floor, darkness greeted her. No candles lit the rooms, no voices warmed the air. Starlight shone through cracked glass shards of shattered windows. Instead of art, ragged holes interrupted the sleek walls, and burn marks scarred the marble floors.
The only signs of movement were the pale curtains, dancing in the lunar breeze.
Before the attack, this place would have been stunning, and perhaps teaming with life. As the elevator continued to rise, the walls narrowed. The cage slipped through a narrow gap in the roof, and into the night air.
On the slick roof’s surface, the icy breeze blew more strongly through the bars, bringing with it a faint smell of creosote.
A dome of stars spread out above, and Bael stepped from the shadows. Starlight caressed the sharp planes of his cheeks, glinting in his eyes. He wore a dark cloak around his broad shoulders, fastened with a silver lion clasp. Another piece of cloth covered one of his arms. From under his hood, his pale eyes pierced the night like stars.
As he opened the elevator door, his expression appeared grim, almost hostile. The door creaked as he opened it. “Tonight, you will do everything I say.”
She frowned. She hadn’t expected high-fives and cookies, but there was a hint of rage in his voice she hadn’t heard before.
Her stomach fluttered. “What’s the matter?”
“Who did you tell about your visit to the Shadow Realm?” Vicious shadows whorled in his eyes.
“No one.” She eyed his cloak enviously. Too bad Cera hadn’t shown up with a jacket. “The only people who know are Emerazel, Zee, and Kester. None of them would tell a soul. And they certainly don’t gossip with shadow demons.”
Bael cocked his head. He was doing that creepy demon thing—the eerily still body and penetrating eyes that she was certain could read more than she wanted them to.
He took a step closer, his powerful magic rippling over her skin. “Somehow, someone has told Hothgar about you. He’s specifically requested that you show fealty to the council,” he snarled. “Your presence here was supposed to be a secret.”
“I take it Hothgar is one of the lords?”
“A lord without honor.”
Whoever Hothgar was, he’d probably put at least some of those holes in the palace. “Abrax knows I’m here. He wants me dead.”
“Abrax wants you for himself. It would not be in his interest to inform the council about you. Once they learn of your presence in the Shadow Realm, they will howl for hellhound blood. The location—the very existence of the Shadow Realm—has been protected for millennia. Outsiders within our boundaries have never left the realm alive. And worse, you belong to Emerazel.”
Ursula shook her head. “Nyxobas specifically requested my presence.”
“He tasked me with protecting you from Abrax. But he won’t risk upsetting the cohesion of his council if they all find out. I cannot protect you from the other eleven lords if they want your neck.”
The wind picked up her hair. Maybe this was an opportunity. “Maybe I should return to Earth. You don’t want to start a war with Emerazel over me. I’m really not worth the hassle.”
“For whatever reason, Nyxobas wants you here. But he’s not fully protecting you. If he were, you’d be in Asta or he’d have issued a decree to protect you. He’s done neither.”