The House of Cards

Take in Your Demons

Take in Your Demons

"Wait," Gwin says, frowning. "I thought you were a cat."

The demons smirks, scratching its belly. "Only when I need to be. It's also the form I most prefer. But this," it gestures to the body it is currently wearing, "happens to work best in this world."

"And why is it," Daniel asks, jaw clenched, "that a Greater Demon of the Keep was kept as a pet by the once great King Solomon?"

Beelzebub sighs. "I forget how ignorant you Arcana are to the religions and histories of Otherworlds. Back when he ruled the entire known world, King Solomon's great power was the ability to summon and enslave demons. Before his fall, there were seventy-two others in his employ. Now, I am one."

"And what made you stay with him and not the others?" Daniel pressed, finger tightening on the trigger of his gun. "Demons are only loyal to themselves."

Beelzebub's amber eyes widen, eye brows rising. "Really? Well, I didn't know that. So glad I have been informed. I always knew there was something wrong with me, seeing as I have a sense of honor and all."

His words bite and the air crackles with fighting energy. My stomach churns, and I step between Daniel and the demon.

"We aren't here to fight you, Beelzebub," I say, voice soft. I rest a hand on the demon's arm, the hair on the back of my neck racing, fingers pricking with an odd electricity. He is filled to the brim with magic, powerful enough to take us all out without even breaking a sweat. "We just want to find our friends."

"As do I," the demon agrees. "But I am hardly welcome among the host of the Infernal Council. They see my siding with Solomon as a betrayal of my kin. For all our faults, the only thing demons don't forgive are traitors. That is why they are punished the worst."

"So, how are we supposed to get them if you don't get along with your demon buddies?" Jack questions. "It's not like we can just waltz up to the gates of the city and demand an audience with the Prince of Darkness."

A dark smile slowly spreads across the demon's face, and I feel my stomach sink deeper as I understand.

"No," I sigh. "That is exactly what we are going to do."

***

The demon who had worn Solomon's shape had not been lying about the Pit being seventy years deep.

"We have to go all the way down there?" Jack says, lip curling in distaste. "That's a long drop."

"It's a lot of damned souls," Beelzebub states. "We need all the space we can get. This is a prison, you know."

"Abandon all hope, ye who enter here," Gwin quotes, giving a whistle. "Those souls aren't the only ones who are damned."

There is no railing on the Pit's edge, and I take a step back as my vision swims. My head still throbs, and I do not trust myself entirely. The fall is long, and the only thing that waits at the bottom is a one way ticket back to the Dead Realms and the Reapers.

Dark wind howls over the edge, the screams of imprisoned souls carried upon it. Sweat trickles down my spine, caused by both the climb here and the heat of the eternal fire that causes dark shadows to play on the walls. The demon city Pandaemonium lies far at the bottom, deep in the Ninth Circle, so far that we have no hope of reaching our friends in time.

Beelzebub peers over the edge of the sheer cliff that marks the edge of the Pit. "Here comes our ride."

The demon comes soaring over the edge of the cliff before any of us have time to react. Its overlarge head sits on a puke yellow insect body, six spindly legs jutting from each segment. Enormous yellow brown wings jut from its shoulders, flapping to lift its body from the Pit. Bulbous, black eyes jut from its skull, staring us down before opening its oversized jaw and releasing an unholy shriek, revealing fangs the size of my forearms and acid green saliva.