The Lamb and the Gray Battle

January 6, 1446

Diyiren fell asleep on his tears. The sounds of stone crashing woke him and he rushed to the main floor, found that half of the wall had been smashed in.

Sutekh yelled at him, "Where have you been?"

BoBo came forward, took Diyiren by the arm. Diyiren may have lived a century, but he looked to be around fifteen years old. BoBo, who had been cursed two thousand years ago by his father Lucifer, was permanently trapped in a similar body. Besides his guile and skill with talismans, he was human.

BoBo said, "Satan's army made a surgical strike. He took Madame Long."

Dragons of the East were cold-blooded animals. A chill in his veins wasn't odd, but Diyiren's knees buckled. He needed to sit.

Djehuty said, "Satan has been planning this a long time, getting in and out, tracking down your mother the way that he did."

BoBo couldn't help the smug smile, but he tried to sound caring and sympathetic: "It'll be best if you go to your room and rest. I'll organize the army. We'll march on Hell."

BoBo glanced at Laoshi, Djehuty and Sutekh.

"Your mother has been captured by Satan before," BoBo added. "She understands what this means."

Somehow, Diyiren made the words, "You don't have to explain, BoBo."

He wandered toward his room. The clean fragrance of incense greeted him. Also a letter. Sent by demon spell. How had he missed that? He snatched it up.

Dear Guang,

I have waited for this day for one hundred years. You have no idea. It is my only wish to see you, behold your powerful face, take in that regal bearing. On my honor, I will release your mother in exchange for you. Burn this letter. Come alone.

All my love,

Your Father

Diyiren knew two things. The residual energy of the letter went straight to the heart of Hell, straight to Satan's throne. He could still smell the energy. He focused, memorized the path, scratched the characters on talisman paper. The other thing, he was being watched. Somehow. His father had probably been watching him since he was born. Mirrors, crystal balls, perhaps he'd even spirited a bug to watch him.

Diyiren couldn't meditate. That would show he was trying to calm himself. He paced, but he organized his steps, aligned his thoughts. Too soon, She-Meimei brought the tray. Tea. Of course, Diyiren laughed to himself. BoBo always at least pretended to be sympathetic.

She-Meimei dressed herself up in pale yellow robes, the kind she wore when Niang first brought her to the castle. She was exactly what he needed that second. She talked too much. She'd read the letter. She'd run to BoBo, tell him that Prince Diyiren was agitated. Diyiren dashed out of the room, knocked into her, dropped the letter on the floor.