Lady Daria stares straight at us. Her dark eyes fill with worry. Crap. Looks like Aldred is done fighting over nothing. “How dangerous are they?”
“They’re the first two I’ve asked Armageddon to kill. What does that tell you?” Aldred’s voice lowers an octave. “Don’t ruin this. Allow me to set Armageddon loose, and I promise, I’ll extoll your strength to the King of Hell. He will respect you.”
Lady Daria shoots another worried glance at Lincoln and me. After that, she hands over Lucifer’s coin to Aldred.
Fuck-fuck-fuckity-FUCK-fuck.
Aldred rolls out a super-long scroll and scans the contents. “I’ve studied this for years. So much fuss, and in the end, this has only three words.” He rolls his piggish eyes.
All the oxygen seems to get sucked out of the Chapel. Three words? Incantations usually take hours. And that freaking parchment is like a mile long.
I want to face-palm myself. Of course, I get the only incantation in the history of the after-realms that’s three words written on a huge sheet of parchment. What else did I expect?
With all my focus, I will my muscles to contract. At last, my entire body breaks free from the freezing magic. Lincoln starts to move as well. That’s the good news. The bad news? We’re stuck on one side of the Chapel while Lady Daria and Aldred stand onstage at the opposite wall. I still can’t get over it: they will release Armageddon on the exact spot where Lincoln and I planned to exchange our vows.
Don’t think about that. Fight now. Irony later.
My mind clears as I focus on Lady Daria and Aldred. They are so going down.
Lincoln and I don’t need to chat out our battle strategy. Now that we can move, there’s no question what we’ll do next. Moving in unison, we race down the main aisle. I’m barely aware of all the frozen bodies behind us. Our parents, friends, and subjects… Everyone is still frozen in the last pose as Lady Daria released her spell. Some small part of me wonders how she did that without Drusus, but there’s a battle to win here. I can’t afford to get mired in that little mystery at this point.
As we race forward, Aldred tosses the coin to the ground. “Infernum.”
This is Latin, which normally I can translate pretty easily. However, at this point, I’m more concerned with the number of words than what they mean.
That was the first word of the spell. Only two more to go before all Hell breaks loose.
The entire Chapel vibrates as a massive amount of power ripples through the air. I’m sure they felt that across the after-realms. I almost lose my footing while running on the shifting stones. At the same time, a bubbling pit of red goo forms around the coin. The rock stage looks like some kind of bloody swimming hole. Although the pit is only a yard wide, clawed hands are already reaching up through the crimson muck. Rage corkscrews up my neck.
Hell getting into Antrum? Not on my watch.
Aldred speaks again. “In.”
The crimson pool in the stage floor grows larger. More hands, claws, and wings press up through the bubbling red sludge. I recognize a long face with a blade-like nose.
Oh, crap. That’s Armageddon. I roll my eyes. Of course, he comes for me right away.
And there’s only one word left to go.
Finally, Lincoln and I reach the stage. Lincoln ignites his baculum into a long sword while I leap into the air. I make a firm landing on Lady Daria’s chest while choking her with my tail. I’m tempted to give myself a high five because that’s a tricky move in any situation, let alone while wearing your wedding dress and high heels.
Lincoln stalks forward with his baculum sword blazing white fire. “Take back the incantation and we won’t kill you.” He holds the sword over Aldred’s head. “You know the word to do it: retracto.”
Aldred grits his teeth. “Terra.”
Hells bells. That wasn’t “retracto.” That was the final word of the incantation. We are so screwed.
Suddenly, Armageddon leaps out of from the pit. My limbs turn rubbery. The King of Hell stands tall and lanky; a tuxedo hugs his wiry frame. His onyx skin looks smooth as polished stone, while his eyes flare red with demonic power.
Since the last time I saw Armageddon, only his stance has changed. One month ago, my father battled Armageddon (who had possessed Adair at the time). In the fight, Dad injured Armageddon’s hip. As a result, the King of Hell now stands at an angle, as if he’s lost mobility in one leg. So, that’s good.
Armageddon snaps his fingers. A wave of power slams into me, throwing me off the stage. My back slams onto the small strip of empty floor space before the raised platform. At the same time, a metal cage appears around me. While the top and bottom are solid steel, the walls of the prison are made of bars. The thing is barely large enough for me to crouch inside, and then only if my neck cranes at an odd angle. I look over to Lincoln. He’s been imprisoned the same way. It breaks my heart.