“Some place on Earth, Great Scala. It’s called Nova Scotia.”
The name means nothing to me. Then again, my high school was run by ghouls. If it didn’t involve learning how to suck up to our undead overlords, they weren’t big on teaching it. It’s a goal of mine to grab Lincoln’s royal tutors and catch up on things. You know, after I find a way to get more demon kills into my schedule. A girl must have priorities.
“Where would you like to go today?” asks Marty.
“Courthouse Pulpitum,” answers Lincoln.
“Confirmed and ready at your signal.”
Lincoln wraps his arms around me, and I lean into his chest. Hands down, the best part about Pulpitum travel is that it requires snuggling. The worst part? The Pulpitums are enchanted to actually fly through the ground, yanking us between areas in the after-realms. In this case, we’re about to fly from Purgatory to Antrum (aka underground Earth.) For all their worries about security, the thrax don’t give two fucks about safety. There are no guardrails on this thing. If you get too close to the edge, your face could get burned off by magma.
“Launch transfer on my mark,” says Lincoln. “Three…two…one…mark!”
The round platform beneath our feet shudders for a moment.
The platform hurtles into the ground. The Pulpitum disappears, replaced by streaks of brown earth, red lava, and multicolored minerals. Every so often, the disc whips from side to side, which is why the snuggle is so key to staying upright. I may take a few opportunities to pretend to lose my footing so I can slip my thigh between Lincoln’s legs. What can I say? I’m part lust demon.
The platform lurches one final time, and our journey is over. We’ve come to a halt at the end of a long black corridor. This is the Courthouse Pulpitum. Lincoln pulls out his baculum and lights them up as a torch. The angelfire casts a beam of shifting brightness down the passageway.
That’s when I notice him. The Earl of Acca. The hallway lights are out, and Aldred stands just inside the shadows. Waiting.
My tail makes a lewd gesture over my shoulder, and I don’t even smack the arrowhead end. This is a huge bummer. I’d expected Lincoln’s parents to meet us here, not this freak in thrax clothing.
Speaking of outfits, the Earl wears his traditional thrax tunic, which is a long velvet shirt. In Aldred’s case, that tunic bears the symbol of a gloved fist, aka the sign of the House of Acca. The Earl has receding red hair, a barrel chest, and small black eyes. Plus, his face is all lit up with a too-bright smile. Prick.
“Greetings, My Prince!” The Earl bows slightly at the waist before turning to me. “And you, Great Scala.”
Lincoln glares at the Earl. “What do you want, Aldred?”
I nod. Good question.
“Why, the other Earls and I merely had a few queries for you.”
I stare off into the shadows. “Earls? I don’t see anyone. Who’s here, exactly?”
Aldred waves his plump hand. “Some of the other Houses happen to be close by. Nothing to fret your pretty head about.”
I lower my voice an octave. “This pretty head can send you to Hell right now.”
“How very amusing of you, Myla.” Aldred chortles like I just made a charming joke. That really sets my blood boiling.
“The great scala asked you a question,” says Lincoln. “Who else is here? Step forward.”
Three other Earls shuffle into the light. I instantly recognize their faces and insignias: the Earls of Kamal, Striga, and Horus. Together with Acca, these are what the thrax call the four Great Houses. They’re the most powerful groups in Antrum outside of Lincoln’s House of Rixa.
Unfortunately, over the years, it seems like most folks have fallen to Aldred’s careful information gathering, deal-making, and blackmail schemes. It’s rumored he has dirt on everyone in Antrum, even Lincoln. My guy says he battles that rumor by never doing or saying anything he wouldn’t want to be discovered. If our places were reversed, I think my head would explode.
Lucas, the Earl of Striga, steps forward. Like all thrax from the House of Striga, Lucas looks pale, tall, and lanky in his purple robes. His waist-length dreads are gray and strung with beads of spell achievement. “We were ordered here to witness the conversation between Aldred and Prince Lincoln.”
“Quiet, Lucas,” snarls Aldred. “You’ll speak when tradition dictates.”
Lucas toys with one of his many beads of spell achievement. “Or I’ll simply cast a vomitus spell on you, and we can all go home.”
I smile like it’s my job. The Earl of Striga is the bomb, pure and simple. It doesn’t hurt that his House is the main source of magic in Antrum. That seems to give him some leeway with Acca.
“I asked you a question, Aldred.” Lincoln’s voice gets deeper with anger. “What do you want?”
“Why, to see the magic codex that holds all the evidence against my House, of course. Our court date is tomorrow morning. However, the vault keepers tell me the Rixa Codex isn’t there.”