The Beginning Of An End

Chapter 23

As I sat in the chair, waiting for the booze to take hold, the long arched window across the room held my attention. Time stretched thin. Then I noticed white flakes drifting past the glass.

For a moment, I thought a volcano had erupted, ash carried all the way to the castle. But the fall was too steady, too straight. Ash didn't move like that.

Frowning, I crossed the room and rested a hand against the windowpane. White flakes drifted lazily beyond the glass. My brow furrowed. Before I could think better of it, I unlatched the tall window and pushed it open.

A gust of air rushed inside.

I froze.

Cold.

Not the dry chill of stone left in shadow. Real cold. It wrapped around my skin, sharp enough to make every muscle tense. My breath caught. I had never felt anything like it. Then a single snowflake drifted through the opening. It landed on my hand. I watched it melt against my skin.

The courtyard beyond was turning white. Just enough for patches of black stone to disappear beneath an impossibly thin blanket of snow. Where each snowflake landed, the stone beneath it paled ever so slightly, as though Hell itself were slowly being rewritten.

Ahead of me, one of the black braziers sputtered. The hellfire had dimmed.

I took a step back, my thoughts stalling as my mind tried and failed to make sense of it. Snow. In Hell. The idea refused to settle. My pulse lurched.

I shoved the doors open. An icy gust swept into the palace. Demons recoiled instinctively, several stumbling backward as though struck.

My mouth suddenly felt dry.

"There's..." My voice cracked. Nobody noticed. I swallowed hard before shouting, "THERE'S SNOW IN HELL!" Every conversation died. Hundreds of heads snapped toward me. I pointed outside. "No... seriously."

The crowd surged toward the windows. Gasps echoed throughout the hall. Several older demons went visibly pale. One collapsed to his knees. Another crossed himself before remembering where he was. Mammon's gaze found mine from across the room. For once, there wasn't even sarcasm behind his expression.

Only fear.

I looked around for Beelzebub, but he was nowhere to be seen. Hell was freezing. Actually. The realization settled into my stomach like lead. Ragnarök wasn't merely approaching anymore.

It had begun leaking into Hell. The borders between realms were no longer holding. Thoughts crashed together inside my head as panic spread through the palace.

Thoughts collided in my head as chaos bloomed around me. Then I saw him.

The Devil, descending the stairs.

His frown deepened as the frenzy spread, his gaze cutting through the crowd until it found me. I met it blankly, refusing to bend under the weight of his accusation. Then he moved, striding toward the east wing, his voice cracking through the chaos.

"EVERYONE MOVE!"

The demons scattered from the windows at once, exposing the cause of the panic. The Devil's face shifted as he took it in. The tension drained from his features, leaving something far worse behind. It was the look of someone watching their last hope die.

I pushed off the doorframe and crossed to him, stopping at his side and folding my arms.

"So," I said, unable to resist, "do you still think letting Loki leave was the right decision?"

His eyes remained fixed on the snowfall. "You are just as doomed as I am, Asmodeus."

"I know," I replied with a quiet snort. "It's just strangely satisfying watching you realize it."