As the yellow-eyed tiefling left me in the cell — silent and stony faced — I could see the inner workings of his mind behind those cunning eyes. Just as silently, I stood there, watching as the door closed between us with a resolute thud.

He held my gaze for a moment longer; through the barred window in the door. I stared right back. My shoulders lifted with each defiant breath, chin held high. I wasn't going to ask forgiveness for what I had done — consequences be damned.

He shook his head once. Then, without a word, he turned and disappeared down the hall.

No doubt to tell Asmodeus about Valen.

At the mere thought of the tiefling's name, my stomach fluttered with a swarm of roiling, conflicting emotions. How the shit did he get to Cania? How did he know to come?

I knew — as soon as the yellow-eyed snitch told Asmodeus — we would lose the element of surprise.

Would they let me out to fight again, knowing that Valen was part of the demon's never-ending army?

I slammed a palm against the cold metal, ny mind a whirlwind of thoughts

Knowing that worrying wasn't going to change anything, I scrubbed my face with a wrist. Rubbing the ruined makeup from my wet lashes, the black band of paint from my eyes.

I waited out the rest of the day, sitting cross-legged on the floor. I waited for the yellow-eyed tiefling to return — with my dinner, with taunting news. With something.

But he didn't come.

And, eventually, my exhausted body couldn't keep up with my racing mind. I fell asleep, curled against the door.

I drifted in and out for hours. And then — when I was stiff and sore — I moved through my stretches, grimacing as my aching muscles protested.

Yet still no one came.

I slept some more, waking to the rumbling of my empty stomach.

When nothing happened, I paced. And when I felt as if I must be wearing a track in the icy floor, I pushed my chest flat against the door to see the world outside my cell. Peering down the hall, I searched for any sign of the missing tiefling — the flickering of a candle in the accompanying room, the sound of a turning page, footsteps pacing in boredom. Even his damnable whistling!

But there was nothing.

Eventually, slept claimed me again, curled up with my hands around my clenching stomach. I dreamt of donuts and steaks, waking to a tacky mouth that felt as if it were full of cotton balls.

My lips were so dry they were cracking, and I was eventually forced to lick the icy walls of my cell for moisture — something I hadn't needed to do since I'd saved the damned tiefling's life all those weeks ago.

And still nobody came. There was no food, no water. Nothing.

I shouted through the door, demanding attention. Cursing everyone and anyone. But — if anybody heard — they didn't care.

"So these are the consequences," I muttered as my stomach clenched in hunger.

I tried to remain calm — they didn't want me dead. But I couldn't help but worry that the devil's wouldn't know how long a human could last without sustenance. Hells, I didn't know. It felt as if my stomach were eating itself!

Yet more time passed, blurring until I wasn't sure if it had been four days, or ten. And still I was alone.

I reminded myself what Valen had asked of me, and I kept my promise. I didn't give up. I held onto the hope he'd awoken in me as I waited for someone to come.

Surely they will have to remember me soon?

I came to sleep more; both for something to do and to reserve what little of my energy remained. My stomach would growl insistently, and I would clutch at it, pulling this way and that in an attempt to silence it, but nothing would work. It was a slow pain, leaving me feeling drained and empty.

As I slept — which was happening more and more — I dreamt of my time fighting in the Blood Wars. Of fireballs crashing down into the snow and ice. I imagined I felt the river lurch beneath me, as it had when Valen had been forced to flee.

I don't know how long passed, when I eventually woke to a sound.

My eyes fluttered, mind foggy.

I almost ignored it.

But then I heard it again.

Claws. Two sets on the stairs.

My whole body tensed.

It wasn't the yellow-eyed tiefling — he always wore boots. And, even then, he never made a sound. Was there another barbed devil?

My eyes snapped open, and I worked up the energy to sit.

Blinking, I forced the haze from my mind, licking my mouth and grimacing at the thickness of my saliva.

Could it be someone with food?

I scrambled to the door, hands curling around the bars as I strained to see down the hall. Hearing the hissing of voices, I pressed my cheek harder against the metal, eyes watering with the effort.

And then I saw them.

They prowled down the hall, long filth covered claws dragging along the walls.

Definitely not the tiefling or barbed devil.

Shit!

I staggered back, mind reeling at what I'd seen.

There were two of them, as I'd suspected.

But two demons.

I swallowed, heart racing.

My heart cried out in relief — Valen must be nearby! — even as my mind struggled to piece together what it had seen. What it meant.

Their bodies had been so gaunt; almost skeletal, but for the form-fitting ebony leather that had covered every inch of them like a stretched skin. They'd seemed to take up the entire hallway, all oversized extremities and massive heads. Jutting from their skull had been a single horn-like growth, curved forward and downward; the signature of their kind.

I'd seen them on the battlefield before, moving through the devil's ranks as if they were ghosts. Killing with a quiet intensity; displaying control that was so very unlike their kind.

But they'd never been allowed near us, and I'd never had to fight one.

The devil's always convened at the sight of them, cutting the near-silent assassin's off, as they'd sought out their prey. As they'd sought me out, the yellow-eyed tiefling had once teased me. And I realised that maybe it hadn't been meant entirely in jest.

I searched the room for something — anything! — to use as a weapon. But there was just me, and the waste bucket, and I was shit out of luck.

But then I remembered; that wasn't entirely true.

The lockpick!

I scrambled for it, uncaring of the noise I made. They already knew I was here — their menacing red gazes had snapped right to my door as they'd rounded the bend.

I pulled the pick from the timber.

Grasping it deftly in my hand, I waited by the wall.

I forced myself to breathe evenly, even as my heart felt as if it would surely explode. Closing my eyes, I orayed that they wouldn't be able to open my cell. That Valen would find me before they found a way in. I could smell them, they were so close. Like rotten flesh and filth. I clenched my eyes shut tighter again as the last of my hope left me.

The door's hidden lock clicked open without any resistance.

My eyes sprang open, and I swallowed my panic, willing my mind blank as I gripped the lockpick harder.

The door pushed inwards slowly, and I let it. Scraping against the icy floor towards me, it shielded me from the terrifying sight of them.

I forced another even breath, reality setting in. There would be no Valen swooping in to save the day.

I was on my own.

The metal of the lockpick cut my skin, I was clenching it so tight

I heard the click of claws in the cell.

I made my move. The only move I had.

Snarling, I kicked the door with all my might.

It caught the demon in the side with the heft of it.

Pushing my advantage, I darted around the door, ramming the lockpick straight up and into the stunned demon's chin.

Up close, I could see each of its jagged teeth. Its mouth was so full of them that they seemed to take up half of its head.

It glared at me, as if not understanding what had happened. And — for a sickening moment — I worried that it hadn't been enough.

But then it reared back, howling in anger. In pain.

My pathetic excuse for a weapon pulled straight out of my grasp, as the demon staggered back into the other.

I kicked a heel into its lower leg, heard a bone snap, before slamming the door once more. The metal bounced off the demon's shoulder.

I could hear the low hiss of the other one cursing, as it pushed past its injured ally.

I darted to the other wall, attempting to flee, but there was no way past them. They were too big, the hall too narrow.

Cursing, I backed into the room, grabbing the waste bucket with a grimace. I flung it at the face of the realing one, as the other tried to shoulder past.

It paused with a disgusted hiss and I backed up as far as the room would allow.

Unable to take my eyes off the claws, I swallowed at the sight of the impossibly sharp tips.

I wondered how much it would hurt. If it would be quick.

I wondered if Valen would find me after.

I hope not. A bitter huff of laughter escaped me. I doubt they give foot soldiers resurrection rods…

I closed my eyes, back pressed hard against the cold ice.

Suddenly, the pain-filled howling was gone. There was only the thumping in my ears. And then —

"Holy hell, woman," I heard a familiar voice. "Is that smell you?"

Enserric?

I pried my eyes open.

And there he was, sticking through the middle of the demon's chest, red tip glowing in greeting.

The demon glanced down in confusion, clawed hands grasping at the protruding sword. He looked up again, red eyes catching mine in outraged disbelief. I smiled.

There was a horrible sucking noise, and the metal tip disappeared from its chest once more.

Seconds later, the demon toppled sideways. With a single shudder, it was dead.

"Valen, I—" I was already reaching for him, ready to crush him against me.

But then I saw who it actually was. Who had really saved me. My smile dropped.

He smirked, yellow eyes flashing as he took in my crestfallen expression.

"You." Instead of the rush of gratitude that had been about to leave my lips, my voice was a bitter hiss.

I snatched my outstretched arms back from him.

"You look shit," he said, eyes running down my body. Still, there was only that smirk, his feelings on the matter unclear.

I shoved his shoulder, snarling. "That's what happens when you don't eat, for… for…" I threw my arms in the air. "For godsknows how long. Where were you?"

"Busy," he immediately snapped, smirk gone.

And for the first time, I saw true anger in his eyes. No hint of his usual amusement. I swallowed, suddenly remembering just who he was. What he was.

Despite my response, he pushed Enserric into my shaking hands.

There was a flash of red light. I felt a rush of strength. It was like warmth returned to my limbs. Like I hadn't been wasting away without food. It felt right. I sighed in relief, accepting the stolen energy Enserric lent me, even knowing I was going to regret it later. Beyond thankful, I didn't resist when I felt his concerned probing as he searched my mind.

The tiefling rolled his eyes at my silence. "As grateful as ever, I see," he muttered bitterly.

He'd already drawn his knives, the haste in which he'd equipped himself belying his casual tone.

I steeled my expression, levelling Enserric at the tiefling's throat.

"Why did you save me?" I pressed through gritted teeth.

I hoped he didn't see how the sword shook.

'Careful,' Enserric warned me. 'He's a slippery one.'

The tiefling raised an eyebrow, eyes considering as he took in my stance, my shaking hand, my weapon.

He stared me down, down the length of my own blade.

A moment ticked by, and then — eyes hard — he stepped away. Completely ignoring the threat.

Prick.

Moving past the demons, he leant his head around the corner of the door, tail balanced behind him.

Watching him through narrowed eyes, I suddenly noticed how different he looked to the last time I'd seen him.

He wore the same armour, but parts of the leather had been ripped away in strips. And other parts of the black and brown leather were stained impossibly darker, with patches of blood, dry with age. A satchel — my satchel — was strung over his shoulder.

He glanced back, as if sensing my eyes on him.

It was then that I realised that his already dark skin was purpled with bruises, his lip split down the middle. Around his bright iris', his eyes were bloodshot. As if he hadn't slept in days.

Some of his injuries were days old.

What happened to him? I tightened my grip on Enserric.

"Well, are you coming?" he hissed impatiently, noticing my critical eyes. The teasing tone was gone from his voice. "This place is crawling with them."

"Leave?" I managed. "With you?"

Devil's didn't do anything unless it served them in some way.

What did he get from freeing me?

"You'd rather wait for more of them?" he pointed a knife at one of the demon's corpses. At my narrow eyed expression, his shoulders tensed and, when he spoke, it was through clenched teeth. "Suit your damn-self, but I won't be waiting around with you."

With that, he disappeared around the corner, the spaded tip of his tail grazing the doorway in his wake.

"Shit," I sighed out a shaky breath, looking around me at the mess.

I had no choice — he knew I had no choice.

So I followed.

I swore again in the hall, seeing the means of the demon's admittance to my small locked cell.

Its long clawed fingers curled in on themselves, spikes sticking out from one side of the sloppily cut wrist. Congealed blood leaked slowly from the stump.

"Is that—" I couldn't finish the question.

The tiefling paused at my tone, turning back with a twisted smile. His eyes darted between me and the barbed devil's severed hand.

"The price for my freedom," he waved a knife in their direction. "They wanted to find a way to open your door. I was more than happy to oblige them."

"Your freedom…?" I repeated slowly.

He shook off my question, eyes narrowing at some memory.

"Should have realised they'd try and gut me as soon as they released me, though." He spat at the floor in disgust. I could see blood in his saliva. When he looked up, his smirk was back in place. "They're not the first to have underestimated me."

I had no doubt about it. I'd seen him fight enough times to know that he was like liquid on the battlefield — there one moment, gone the next. He might be smaller than most of his brethren, but he more than made up for it.

I had more questions. So many more. But he was already making his way up the stairs, as quick and quiet as ever.

Pulling my lips back in a grimace, I followed.

"Where are we going?" I hissed at his back.

He waved me off.

I shadowed him a few steps more, until it was clear he wasn't going to tell me anything. There was no way I was going up there. Not without knowing what we were up against.

I grabbed his shoulder roughly. I pulled him to a stop, leaning closer to him.

"Just what am I walking into?" I hissed into his ear.

Twisting to face me, his smile was a flash of teeth in the low light of the spiralling staircase. He looked manic, exhausted; a shadow of the tiefling I had been forced to fight alongside, time and time again.

I could hear shouting up above, and he glanced up at the sound. I didn't release him.

His shoulders dropped as he released a defeated sigh. "Remember that fight," he eventually said. "With the dretch?"

I searched my memory, the name on his lips familiar. My eyes widened. "The ape things?" I pressed, voice rising. My grip tightened on his arm.

"If you say so," he shrugged. "It will be like fighting in those trenches. They'll use the dretch to flush everyone out of the halls." He snarled. "But it's the babau that we need to avoid."

I tried to suppress my shudder at the memory of that day.

I pushed aside my fear, forcing my lips to twist into a smirk. "I seem to recall you being almost trampled to death, that day."

"Really?" he snapped. "I'd forgotten. Thank you for the reminder."

But, despite the sharpness to his voice, the spark was back in his eye.

"What kind of defenses are up there?" I pressed. Trying to recall what I knew of the labyrinth of halls. "Are there other devils?"

"Not enough," he hissed. "Some were killed in the first wave against the outer ring. Those that weren't — they left this place to the dogs." He spat again. More blood.

I frowned, surprised me to hear that Mephistar had been all but handed over to the demons.

At the shock on my face, he arched a perfectly curved eyebrow. "Mephistopheles might have been bad blood, but he ran a tight ship." He lifted a lip. "This would never have happened if you hadn't gone and killed the bastard."

I couldn't help the scoff. "So I won't be getting your vote then?" I managed a smirk. "I'll try not to let it keep me up at night."

He shook his head, but I saw his teeth flash in another feral smile. This was the tiefling I had fought alongside. The tiefling that seemed to be able to survive anything the Blood Wars threw at him. The one I needed today.

A crash sounded up above and we both froze.

The stairs were no place to get caught. I grimaced, remembering my last attempt at fighting on the.

"Well, now what?" I grit out. "I won't die protecting my prison."

Yellow eyes rolled towards me. As if that was obvious. "I've got a contact; guaranteed me a portal out of here," he snatched his arm out of my grip. "I just need your help getting there."

"My help?"

"I was out numbered; only way through was doubling back this way, towards the armory and you," he grimaced. "Together we might stand a chance."

He couldn't have grabbed me a bow?

I felt Enserric's indignant response in my mind.

"What good will a portal do me?" I held my ringed finger up for him with a snarl. "You know I can't leave the hells."

He smirked, eyes flashing. "You won't be. The portal won't take us far."

My mind was reeling, everything was happening too quickly. I needed to think.

I forced myself to take an even breath.

"First, we find Valen," I insisted, lifting Enserric's tip closer to the tiefling's chin.

He scowled down at me, pushing the sword out of his face.

"How 'bout this?" he snapped. "I see the damned tanar'ling, I promise not to gut him."

I mean, it was a start…

"Ah, shit," I sighed, realising I had little to no choice.

I pulled Enserric close, straining to hear more from up above.

"I already know I'm going to regret this."

He shrugged, smirk still firmly in place. "Probably."

I found the sight of it made me feel a fraction better about what we were about to attempt.

And then, like we had so many times before, we ascended the rest of the spiral staircase — towards the waiting demons.