Lincoln pauses just inside the entryway. “Activating standard station. Lincoln Vidar Osric Aquilus.” A grid of white laser beams crosses the Pulpitum floor, performing a body scan on both of us. The one place thrax go high-tech is on anything to do with security or demon patrol. Pulpitum cover both areas.
A woman’s voice echoes through the chamber. “Identity confirmed. Glad you’re returning home, Your Highness.”
“Appreciate the well wishes, Cassandra. How’s the team at Transfer Central? I heard another Agent had an accident.”
“Julian took a nasty fall. He’s recovering in the infirmary.”
“Another fall?” Lincoln frowns, considering. “Keep me informed.”
“I will, Your Highness. We don’t have you scheduled for transfer today. Is this for demon patrol?”
“We bring news of Lucifer’s Orb, which is demon magic, so it qualifies. Queen Octavia will have approved the rush transfer, as well as my guest.”
A long pause follows. “Yes, both are approved. Destination?”
“Arx Hall Pulpitum.”
“Confirmed and ready at your signal.”
We step onto the metallic disc. On a thrax platform, the correct way to travel is in a huddle with your arms looped across the shoulders of the person next to you. Lincoln and I get into position.
Once we’re settled, Lincoln speaks again. “Launch transfer on my mark. 3, 2, 1.”
With a jolt of movement, the circular platform whips downwards, hurtling through the ground. The temple’s circular walls are replaced by a blur of soil, water, and stone as we careen through the earth. From time to time, the disc lurches from one side to another as it avoids some obstacle, mostly seams of diamonds and lava flows. Their glittering presence flashes along one side of the platform as we pitch in a new direction, always keeping in a downward trajectory.
Another jolt hits, and then the platform comes to an abrupt halt. We’ve stopped at the end of a gilded corridor. The Arx Hall platform.
Octavia and Connor are already waiting for us.
“Myla, so good to see you.” Octavia is petite with long brown hair that’s wound into a neat chignon. She wears a simple medieval-style gown of Rixa black with a scoop neck and long, loopy sleeves.
“Lincoln, my boy!” Connor is barrel-chested and full of energy. He wraps Lincoln in a bear hug before nodding in my direction. “Myla.”
“Connor.”
Octavia clasps her hands together at her waist. “Why don’t we visit the Feasting Hall?” Without waiting for a reply, she leads us all to a wooden chamber with plaster walls and an arched ceiling. Long feasting tables with matching benches fill up the floor.
Connor gestures to one of the benches. “Shall we sit?”
“I’d rather stand,” says Lincoln coolly. It’s his way of saying he’s all business today.
“So, what are we here to discuss?” asks Octavia. “Your message was most cryptic.”
I pull a document from my Scala robes and hand it to her. “Adair is using magic in a way that breaks inter-realm law. She’s stealing my powers. This parchment outlines my charges.”
Octavia purses her lips and scans the page quickly. “Has this been filed with the Thrax Embassy?”
“Not yet,” I reply.
Connor leans against a nearby wall and kicks his left ankle over his right. “Well, how could you file? Powers. It’s not like stealing real property.”
Lincoln pulls out his own set of papers and hands them to Connor. “I thought there might be confusion on that point. Illegally taking powers is exactly like stealing any other kind of property. In fact, capital punishments are recommended for taking magic that ensures the after-realms run properly. Myla’s igni certainly qualifies in that category.”
The barest smile curls Octavia’s lips. She’s so loving this. Adair and the House of Acca have been on her hate-list for ages. “These charges require some proof,” adds Octavia. “What do you have?”
I force on my confident demi-goddess face. I’ve only met Lincoln’s parents a handful of times. Now, I’m about to ask them to imprison one of their so-called Great Ladies. Sure, she’s a barking lunatic, but even I know this is a ballsy move for a new girlfriend.
“Here’s the thing,” I explain. “We’re setting up a sting operation in Purgatory. I think Adair will confess before witnesses. If she doesn’t, then I’ll drop the entire matter.”
Octavia returns my papers to me. “You seem rather confident in her guilt.”
“Rock solid.”
“Why come here, then?” asks Connor. “You don’t need our permission for a sting operation.”
“True,” I reply. “We need you to jail her once we prove her guilt, however.”
Connor’s face takes on the look of a cornered animal. “That’s assuming she’s guilty anyway. And what’s this I hear about a Curse? I’ve gotten reports that murderous ghosts are about to roam Purgatory, as well. That’s one mess we thrax don’t look forward to cleaning up.”