My head bobs up and down. That’s a good idea. Millions of ghouls live in the Dark Lands. It’d take only a few hundred to portal outside the bunker, grab the demons and go.
The Oligarchy tilt their heads to one side. “We can open portals, but getting demons to step into them in another matter. With few exceptions, ghouls aren’t warriors.” The Oligarchy shoot a knowing look at Walker. I suck in a quick breath. Of course. Walker’s a descendant of Aquila, and she kicks ass in a big way. Walker and the Aquilinea are probably the best fighters the ghouls have.
Behind my chair, I hear Walker shift his weight. “It’s possible to call the Aquilinea, though that’s only a few dozen warriors. Can the Dark Lands supply the rest?”
“Sadly, no.” As they say this, the Oligarchy don’t look sad in the slightest. They’re so full of it. “We’d like to discuss other options for appeasing Armageddon. Perhaps if the new Scala were to journey to Hell, then Armageddon and his army would vacate–”
I grip the edges of my metal chair, my eyes flaring red with rage. It’s one thing to think you can manipulate an old man on a stretcher. And Adair? If you promised her an adoring audience in Hell, she’d probably go willingly. But no way am I turning into their patsy. Crap like this is exactly why this job sucks and I don’t want it. I open my yap, ready to tell them all that and more, when Lincoln takes to his feet.
The Prince sets a protective hand on my shoulder. “That’s not going to happen.”
The Oligarchy smile, showing four mouths of identical ragged teeth. “Why not? She has the old Scala’s power. The igni can take her to Hell and back.”
“Really?” My mouth arches into a snarl. “If I’m transporting anywhere, it’s to Heaven.” Which isn’t a bad idea at that.
Verus guesses my thoughts. “The Gates of Heaven limit what igni may transport. Only the dead may pass through.”
“But there are no such restrictions in Hell.” The Oligarchy smile in unison, which is super-creepy to watch. “Surely you can transport there, defend yourself, and return at your leisure.”
Rage courses through me. I grip the chair so tightly, the metal twists in my palms. “Yeah, me against all of Hell. That’s a great idea.” Dicks.
Verus’s eyes flare blue. “The angels stand with the thrax. Sending the Scala into Hell is not an option.”
Closing my eyes, I force myself to take a few deep breaths. Don’t let them sidetrack you. Stay focused on the plan. “Thank you.” I look from Verus to Lincoln. “Both of you.”
Lincoln retakes his seat; his fingers weave with mine again.
“Now that sending me into certain death is off the table.” I shoot an angry glance at the Oligarchy. “Let’s hear some other ideas.”
“I have an army of angels at the ready,” says Verus. “Can you portal them in?”
The Oligarchy close their eyes. “We can’t.”
Verus groans. “Of course, you can. Even if every ghoul in Purgatory were dead, you’ve millions back in the Dark Lands who can pick up our troops.”
Lincoln nods. “I can have thrax warriors ready as well.”
Beads of black sweat drip down the Oligarchy’s cheeks. “We did not say won’t. We said can’t. Group Think is blocked.”
Twisting about, I search Walker’s face. “Is this true?”
Walker lowers his head. His features crease in concentration. “Group Think is silent.” A muscle twitches by his mouth. “No one can create portals without it.” He frowns. “It was unstable before when I portaled in Verus and Levi. Now it’s gone.”
The Oligarchy’s faces turn slack. “Even our people of the Dark Lands cannot portal to us now.” They look downright mopey. Good. They were only hanging around because it was a safe place to negotiate. Plus, Tim had conveniently organized all their bargaining chips here in the form of my mother and Adair. I’m sure they never expected they’d become prisoners too. Now we’re all in the same boat. Hope sparks in my chest. That can only help us work together.
Still facing Walker, I drum my fingers on the back of the chair, memories flashing through my mind. Images from the Arena iconigration flicker through my consciousness. What happened that day—it must have been a test. I snap my fingers, then point at Walker. “Do you remember the iconigration? The pig demon Clementine opened a briefcase for Armageddon.”
“I remember,” says Walker. “It stopped the Scala’s carriers from opening a portal. I’d never seen anything like it before.”
Then, I said ‘Armageddon was up to something’ and you told me not to worry, Mr Smarty Pants. Not that I’ll point that out right now. Although I’m really-really-really tempted to.
I tap my knee with my pointer finger. “That was Armageddon’s way of testing a system for blocking Group Think, I’m certain of it.”