Kingdom of Lies (Imp Series Book 7) (7 page)

“Do you know of an elf named Swiftethian? Fair-skinned dude with sharp features. Light-golden-blond hair, brown eyes. About 5’ 8”. Slim. Dresses like minor nobility. He’s got a long scar on the outside of his left thumb.” Reciting this over and over was getting to be very tedious. I really needed to make up a wanted poster or something.

He shook his head, gaze drifting back to his brother. “That could be anyone.”

I sensed the lie itching its way along my skin. Weird. I couldn’t often detect when elves lied.

“You sure? He might work with the mages? Make frequent trips into the demon lands to visit a sorcerer in Dis?”

“No.”

“No, you’re not sure?” I kept my voice soft, almost kind. “Because I said I’d release you back to the elven kingdoms, but I made no such promise about your brother’s remains.”

He shivered, staring at Petch’s corpse. I knew what he was imagining. An elven body would be a marvelous plaything for demons, and when they grew tired of their games, he’d serve as a yummy snack. Every demon longed to say he’d dined on elven flesh.

“Swiftethian was from Li, but he’s no longer there. There were rumors he was kicked out because of his collaboration with the freed humans.”

I could believe that. The elves hated that the humans were no longer theirs. Every struggle, each failure the group faced in trying to survive outside of servitude made it more likely they’d voluntarily return to slavery.

“Any idea where he might have gone?”

Tollan’s gaze once more slid to his brother’s body. “Yes. Release my brother’s remains to me, and give me safe transport to the Cyelle border, and I will tell you.”

‘Bout time. I was beginning to think that elves had lost all their negotiation skills. “Deal.”

“Eresh.”

Fuck. I’d need to go through one of the Southern Elven Kingdoms to get there or waste days traveling around them and through the mountains. Even going through one of the kingdoms at top aerial speed would take me all day to get there.

Which meant I didn’t have time to escort an elf and his dead brother to the border. “Snip? Pustule?”

They darted forward to stand before me, quivering in anticipation.

“You are to carry this elven body with care and reverence and escort Tollan to the Cyelle border. Ensure that no one hurts him, and keep the corpse from desecration. Got it?”

Pustule raised his hand. I wasn’t sure who had taught him that.

“Yes?”

“What’s revenant?”

“Reverence. It means ‘don’t eat, play with, or damage the body in any way’. Respect the body.” Sheesh. There were days when I wished I had more than Lows in my household. Or that I hadn’t sent Leethu to Kllee and that Dar wasn’t love-struck in Illinois.

“Got it.” Pustule squeaked. Snip saluted and went over to pick up the elven body with great care.

“But not today. Give me forty-eight hours. In the meantime, no harm is to come to either of these elves. Got it? And make sure this guy has elf stuff to eat. No beaks and blood.”

“What?” Tollan shrieked. “I’m not staying here. That wasn’t the deal.”

It wasn’t the deal I’d intended to make, but I could hardly release this elf when he knew exactly where I was heading, who I was looking for, and probably which elven kingdom I’d be flying over. Not with a bounty on my head.

“You’ve got a choice. You walk out of here carrying your brother’s body and hike through demon territory the whole way to the border. Or you wait forty-eight hours and get an escort.”

I could see his mind working. He’d make it on his own, but carrying a body? His brother’s remains would slow him down and bring even more attention from all the demons in Patchine. “Okay, I’ll stay and take the escort.”

And he’d do everything in his power to see me dead the moment he got back to elven territory. I winced and turned my back on him, hating that I’d killed a young elf and made an enemy out of another. The bounty on my head and the disturbing situation in the elven lands were things that needed to be higher on my priority list. Everything needed to be higher on my priority list. Chasing after Gareth’s gem didn’t seem quite as important, but I had a solid lead on Swiftethian’s whereabouts. Who knows how long he’d be there.

I needed to act now, and hopefully put this one to rest, so I walked to the outskirts of the city and revealed my wings. They still hurt, the physical wounds healing with unusual slowness after my manticore-inflicted injury. Ugh. So many scars. Not even a thousand years old, and I looked like the angels who’d been through the war.

I shook off the thought and opened my wings to their fifty-foot length, stretching the muscles and tendons that had stiffened after injury. Then I took to the air, stirring a small dust devil as I rose.
Eresh, here I come
.

I
took the shortest distance through the elven kingdoms—the river Styx that ran from the mountains of the north, dividing both the northern demon areas and the southern elven kingdoms of Tonlielle and Wythyn. I rose as high as I could reasonably manage and still navigate the terrain by sight, hoping the magically enhanced elven arrows couldn’t reach this high and that any systems in place to detect aerial attack didn’t extend to a thousand feet. I’d stopped worrying about those magical alarms since the elves had been too intimidated by my odd semi-angelic status to do anything but stare and point. I guess the novelty was over, and I was once again just an unwelcome impish intruder—one with giant, black-feathered wings.

It had been a while since I’d traversed this fast-moving river, but still I noticed the differences. The lush green of Tonlielle had a faded quality, as if the kingdom were on the edge of autumn. Wythyn’s forest showed bare patches of brown. Towns appeared abandoned, and I actually saw small dots of conveyances heading toward the larger cities. Was another war brewing? Were people moving to the more fortified areas for protection? And did this have anything to do with the price on my head?

As the larger cities came into view, I flew higher, rising above the elven-made clouds and into the blistering atmosphere. Better to sweat a bit than be detected by those who might have the magical ability to bring me down.

I flew for hours before the cloud cover broke and I could see the edge of the elven kingdoms—lines of green and gold against the white sands that marked this section of the demon lands. Diving low, I spiraled to scout the borders before committing to a northern course.

There were no landmarks for nearly a hundred miles, just endless white sand. Eventually bits of black dotted the white—lava from a long-dead volcano. Shards of glass joined the black as I drew closer to the city. The eruption had ended with explosive force, heat fusing the sand and melting it to glittering, clear crystal. These grew in size as I traveled north, translucent ponds that weren’t water, monoliths whose facets reflected the setting sun, casting a brilliant rainbow of colors onto the white sands.

Eresh was the largest of all, a cluster of glass and onyx in the distance. Shadows stretched long upon the ground when I landed and concealed my wings. Word had gotten around about them, but it was best to be safe and keep the feathers hidden from prying eyes and grasping claws. I strode into the city, ignored by all but a few Lows, and headed to Zalanes’ house. I was exhausted from my trip, and I had no idea where Swifty would be holed up. It was a big city, just as large as Dis but with unfamiliar alleyways, nooks and crannies. The buildings extended far underground, connected beneath the surface by a network of tunnels and passageways that defied logic and ran completely opposite to the streets on the surface. Looking around at the evening hustle and bustle, I decided it would be better to conduct my search after a few hours of rest.

As the sun set, the scorching temperature dropped dramatically. Eresh had day dwellers who relished the heat intensified by the glass buildings. They were heading for the warmth and shelter of their homes and the radiant heat of lava rocks. Others emerged from underground, stretching in the cool air and blinking their giant, pale eyes. Yes, we could all change forms, but we had preferences, and a city like this allowed us the luxury of indulging them.

I made my way to Zalanes’ house and stood outside the onyx gate, pulling the long furry tail that triggered the demon equivalent of a doorbell. Shadows moved behind the opaque glass, but no one appeared. There were no reputable inns in Eresh, and I wasn’t comfortable taking a nap out in the open. There was a good chance that Zalanes wasn’t home and that his household was reluctant to open the gate to a demon they didn’t recognize, but I didn’t exactly have any alternative. So I did what I do best—made a complete pest of myself until they reached the end of their patience and came out to deal with me.

“Hey!” I screamed. Several passing demons turned to see if I was addressing them, turning away when they realized I was shouting at the building behind the gate. “Zalanes! It’s me, Az. Open the fuck up. Come on, let me in, you troll spawn.”

I shouted until I was nearly hoarse. There was increased movement inside the house but no sign I was going to be allowed entrance. Time to pull out the big guns. I searched around the white sand until I found what I was looking for. Then I threw the baseball-sized chunk of onyx as hard as I could.

The glass splintered with a musical crack. There was a flurry of activity from the shadows inside, and then the door flung open and Zalanes barreled out, steam curling from his nose.

“What the fuck are you doing, Az? You’re paying for that.”

“Your doorbell doesn’t work.” I gave it a few tugs to demonstrate. “And your house is amazingly soundproof. I shouted and shouted, but no one seemed to hear me.”

“Go away.” He’d come right up to the gate and huffed smoke into my face. I smelled the stench of sulfur and tar that Zalanes always exuded and felt a wave of nostalgia at the memories it brought. He’d been a classmate, another imp who occasionally joined Dar and me in our exploits.

“Nope. Let me in or I’ll keep throwing rocks.”

We had a bit of a staring match; then Zalanes finally opened the gate, waving a hand for me to enter. I did, and he punched me in the face.

Zalanes doesn’t have much in the way of claws, but he has fists like giant hammers. His blow lifted me from the ground, launching me sideways where I sprawled to the floor. I guess he didn’t have the same fond memories of our childhood as I did.

“You’ve got some nerve, Az.” The demon put his hands on his hips, jutting his chin forward. “You left me in that sandpit, covered with flesh-eating worms. What happened to coming back with a rope, huh?”

Oh yeah. That. “I forgot. There was a party back at the house, and Poh had shoved a rocket in his ass to see if it would shoot him across the room.”

There was a war of conflicting expressions on Zalanes’ face. Curiosity won. “Did it work?”

“No. Idiot blew his legs off instead. The left one hit Daga in the face.”

“Huh.” Zalanes contemplated that then shook his head. “Still, you left me there. And you just cracked the front of my house.”

“Looks kinda cool if you ask me.” I crossed my arms and tilted my head, staring at the building as if it were a work of art. “And you obviously got out of the sandpit. You’re okay.”

“Yeah.” He scowled. “I still hate you.”

“I hate you too.” I grinned and cuffed his shoulder. “So, where do I sleep?”

Zalanes’ household peered at me from doorways as the demon led me down a long series of stairs to a hallway far below ground. The air was dry and stale, smelling like dust and things long dead. Even the demon’s familiar sulfur and tar scent faded away.

“Here.”

It was a large room with a bed big enough to accommodate the largest of demon forms. A pool of water took up almost half the floor space. It was still and black. My skin crawled as I looked down into the bottomless depths.

“What comes out of the water?”

It was a valid question, given the weirdness that existed in Eresh.

Zalanes shrugged, giving me an enigmatic smile. “Nothing, if you’re lucky.”

Asshole. Still, this was a better choice than sleeping outside. Before he left, I recited my wanted poster information on Swifty. It was a long shot.

The demon raised an eyebrow, releasing a smoke ring from his one nostril. “An elf? In Eresh? They hate it here. If there’s an elf hiding out, he’d probably be in the upper city. Maybe check with the Noodles. They’re the only ones likely to put an elf up and not brag about it.”

I closed the door and sat on the giant bed, facing the dark pool. Noodle was the derogatory name given to information demons. They were reclusive, strong in magic but lacking in physical skills. Their greatest asset was knowledge. They knew the detailed history of every race, every blade of grass, every star in the sky. And they were boring. Unless you got them really drunk, then they were actually quite fun. Zalanes was right; if there was an elf hiding in the city, the Noodles would either know about it or be hiding him away to betray for the right price.

I only hoped I had enough to pay that price.

S
omething woke me.

My eyes flew open, and I stared straight at the black pool. The surface was still, not the slightest hint of a ripple. It was full dark, but the moon and stars shone into the glass building, light reflecting and filtering down a long shaft to produce a small circle of light at the foot of the bed. My ears strained, but I heard nothing.

Absolutely, positively nothing. The silence was unnaturally complete. I sat up, and the rustle of sheets against my skin was deafening. Surely Zalanes would have had at least a few night dwellers in his household. It must have been one of them I’d heard.

Still, I was in the house of a rather hostile friend, in a city I didn’t know, with a creepy pool of water in my room. Feeling the need to be cautious, I eased out of bed and walked around the room, checking corners and under the bed before coming back around to the still, dark liquid. Taking a deep breath, I leaned over and looked in.