I turned away. Baphomet followed before we could explore my plan for fixing said chaos. Which was good, because I didn't have one.

  He led me to this scrying chamber. I'd been here before, watching my predecessor spy on demons with his mirrors of silvery liquid magic. Images flickered across the mirrors now. Refugee camps. Territories under dispute. Borderlands between rule and anarchy.

  "You can watch anyone, anywhere, anytime. That's how your predecessor used this room. It takes practice to narrow it down to a single demon. You must first draw in on a location and follow them that way."

  "Good to know." My mind swirled with the potential uses of this tool. I had three demons specifically in mind.

  The extended personal quarters were as overwhelming as everything else in the tower. Turns out, I had a different chamber than the one my predecessor used. An additional one, actually. He preferred the chamber I always visited him in, but this one was easily ten times the size. The bed itself could comfortably sleep six demons. The balcony could house a family.

  I looked down and out. Miles upon miles of emptiness. All mine. No other Circles. No cities filled with demons. No nearby enemies. The mountain range cast dramatic silhouettes against the azure sky. Somewhere below me, the laughter of soldiers relaxing drifted into the fresh, open air.

  "The view comes with the job," Baphomet said after giving me a moment. "As does the isolation. If you desire."

  "I ran a hand through my hair. Everything is so immense."

  "Symbolic. Lucifer's presence, your presence, fills any space. The demons of the Underworld need to know that. Need to be reminded by these visuals."

  As we left, a servant was trying to squeeze into the room unnoticed. She was carrying a few of my possessions that Dialphio and Marijon had brought from the island. A pathetically small addition to these grandiose accommodations.

  "We have another stop. It might be best to pause for the day after you see the throne room."

  I wasn't sure I was up for it, but I said, "Let's go."

  Centrally located, the vast room echoed with our soft footsteps. Just the new ruler of the Underworld, his most senior advisor, and thousands of tons of brimstone. An obsidian throne dominated the riser, radiating authority. My skin tangled. Creed buzzed three times at my hip.

  "Looks too nice to sit on," I said with a half-hearted chuckle, meaning to lighten the atmosphere weighing down on me. I wasn't sure if Baphomet shared my emotions, but I figured I'd include him in any reprieve I might find for myself.

  "Fortunately for you, this room is only used for formal occasions. Rarely at that. Your daily business will happen in the chambers. Whichever you choose."

  I took a deep breath of the air. It smelled of wet rock. Not exactly the impression I wanted to leave on anyone who'd forced my hand and required me to use a space so vast it could provide shelter for so many stranded on the island.

  "He designed the tower to serve the Underworld," Baphomet said quietly. "Every room. Every level. Every enhancement. This wasn't about His personal comfort. It was about fulfilling the needs of the All to maintain the Balance."

  Something had changed in his tone.

  "You miss him."

  Baphomet was quiet for a long time, simply staring at the empty throne. "We were friends for longer than most civilizations have existed. Definitely those of the Overworld. At least in the modern sense. Even knowing His death was necessary, it was painful watching you strike that final blow. I know He wanted it… But still…"

  "I'm sorry. I truly am."

  "I know." The aged counselor sounded truthful. "He was convinced you were the only one worthy of it. Please honor His memory by carrying out the future you see for all demons."

  Baphomet helped me find my way to the nearby gardens, a suburb of the larger gardens I'd toured with Lucifer recently, helping him for an assassination attempt. I told Baphomet it was okay to take his time for quiet reflection. I think he assumed I needed it myself, which I did, but he looked so miserable I couldn't expect him to continue the tour.

  The irony of standing in the peaceful gardens while my brain was a maelstrom of troubles was not lost on me. The chaos and suffering in the territories were troubling. The emphasis on my safety was unsettling. Even though a squad of no less than six guards hung constantly out of sight but always present, I realized I'd started a life filled with precariously balanced moments. Assassins, assassins, everywhere.

  Except on the Isle.

  I pondered returning. That's where my friends were. That's where everybody I trusted in the Underworld lived. It was also the only location in the Underworld where I was absolutely safe from threats from the Founders until I figured out how I could cut their legs out from under them.

  But a return to the island would create other types of problems. Lucifer living among the commoners. Even without contemplating the unnerving possibility that someone who meant me ill might be hiding among the Exiles. I couldn't put everyone else at risk. Not like that. Not unnecessarily. Every day, in and out. That wouldn't be fair.

  I looked around at the beautiful, rich vegetation and flowers. I think I spotted the movement of one of the guards, but didn't bother to call him out. I wasn't in the mindset to be playful.

  This was a peaceful place. A center for serenity.

  As I took it all in, I whispered, "Now let's see if I don't destroy everything you built."

  11

  UNDERWORLD, ISLE OF DREAD

  Turns out, I was willing to risk my friends a little.

  I might have been Lucifer in the eyes of everyone around me—a strange concept still—but I'm only a demon in my mind. Imperfect. Impatient. Learning every day. And after four of them, each filled with committee meetings concerning seemingly every element of administering the Underworld, I was over sitting inside stuffy rooms with stuffier demons. I was done being secretly surrounded by bodyguards who might have thought I didn't know they were constantly around. Days in, and I was suffocating from being watched, guarded, tended to, and asked for my preferences on everything from the meals I wanted to which brand of carbonated drink I'd like to my thoughts on the development of urban initiatives. Ready to scream. To disappear. Both. One might have wanted a new Lucifer; my predecessor aimed to find eternal peace; but I just wanted to be Zeke again. Even if only for a few hours.

  So I told Baphomet I wanted to be left alone in my chambers to get settled, then snuck to the west training ground and opened a Gateway back to the Isle.

  I'd set myself down on the beach. The smell of the sulfur-oxygen mix hit me first. Here, it was always cleaner. How I'd grown to miss it in the days I'd been away.

  I bent, untied my sneakers, pulled my socks off and dug my toes into the sand. Their warm kernels filled the gaps. I stood still, taking in the tactile and olfactory sensations.

  But then someone called my name.

  Justis Severance had come through the grass atop a dune, stopped, recognized me, and waved. Running up to me, he thrust his hand out. I shook it awkwardly.

  "Hey, Justis. How are things going?"

  I hadn't seen the backwards ball cap wearing incubus, former member of Dialphio's rebel cell, in weeks. He'd come through with the group we'd rescued from Apopis's Icebox prison. But he'd isolated himself after reaching the island. I think he was dealing with the consequences of facing his mortality. I got it.

  He kept his gaze locked on me, still shaking my hand. "I… I… What do I say? Congratulations, m-my Lord."

  I groaned internally. "Thanks. But you don't have to call me that. I'm still me."

  "Um, sure. Okay."

  I let go of his hand, but there was a brief, weird moment where he still had his fingers wrapped around my hand while mine hung loose. I smiled and pulled my arm back. The clue he required to let go.

  "Is everyone at camp?" I said, starting past him.

  "Yeah. Are you hanging out, L⁠—"

  I chuckled, hoping it made him feel more at ease even though I felt a bit deflated. I'd come here to get away from the responsibilities and realities of my new status only to be immediately reminded that things were irrevocably different.

  I didn't even make it back to camp before I'd drawn a crowd. It started with a small group of Forgotten Ones. I'd met them briefly and didn't know their names, but they knew mine and who I was. Like Justis, they congratulated me, praised me, told me how happy they were that I'd survived. They laughed at my comments, even if they weren't funny.

  I appreciate the effort, if not the outcome.

  Within minutes, the clamor drew the curious. The swell of the crowd multiplied. I was surrounded by demons who'd been neighbors until earlier this week. They loved me, hated me, or tolerated me. All based on their temperament and our interactions. Now, they scrambled for better positions to congratulate me, ask for favors, or even touch the sleeve of my shirt like it was a lucky charm.

  After the hundredth handshake and the fiftieth "How does it feel to be Lucifer?" I escaped.

  I would have liked to brag about all the things I could accomplish as Lucifer. I lasted only a few minutes at the camp before a crowd started gathering there as well.

  Dialphio helped shield me the best she could. Bilba was somewhere with Sagittarius. Ralrek and Libra were off the island, rounding up Forgotten Ones from an indistinguishable place in the Overworld. So I did what any smart ruler of an immortal realm would do. I left.

  Dialphio played along that I needed to inspect the island's perimeter, but I knew that she knew that I knew she knew I was full of it.

  During the time I had alone, I tried to push Lucifer-type thoughts from my mind. All the problems I'd left back in Lucifer's—in my—tower. The desire to be surrounded by my friends. Coming to the island didn't help. Demons saw me as Lucifer, and I saw the living conditions as Lucifer. While I lived with all the luxuries afforded to my title, the Exiles made do with the barest of essentials in ever-crowding conditions. Though I tried not to see the world as the one demon responsible for it, I couldn't.

  The things they don't teach you in Demoning 101.

  The walk through the jungle was peaceful. The paths, familiar. A reprieve. For a short while, I could at least pretend I was still just Ezekial Sunstone, former Exile, instead of the ruler of Hell who'd killed his predecessor less than a week ago. The test was to see how long I could hold on to that pleasant delusion.

  This far away from the settlements, the air smelled fresher, the jungle was quieter, the⁠—

  Something snagged my ankles, yanking them together. I lost my balance a second before my world fell away beneath my feet.

  Shocked, I didn't have time to cry out.

  Thankfully, the fall was abrupt and didn't end on top of a rack of spikes. I hit the side of the pit, changing the course of my fall and sending me down headfirst. I plunged into the sticky sap at the bottom.

  "Pffft," a tiny-yet-hostile voice said from above, "just 'nother stupid demon."

  "Looks like same stupid demon," another rough, feminine voice said.

  I craned my neck—which wasn't a simple task under the circumstances—and looked up the length of my body, past my tied feet, to a familiar angular face peering over the edge of the pit. It was joined by another head. Both had green feathers, rust-colored wings, and completely white eyes that somehow conveyed supreme amusement.

  Blasted harpies.

  "Hi, Yveine. Mind helping me up?" I asked. "Not crazy about hanging upside down above that stuff." I pointed at the sickly sweet pool of sap below—above?—me. "Not crazy about you digging this pit on a trail either. I'd rather be outside it."

  "Pfft. Doesn't matter what stupid demon wants. Took days to dig. Ruined now with demon stink."

  Tarlox's grin suggested this was the highlight of her year. "Let him sink. Tastes better that way."

  "Ha, ha." I tried to swing up and grab the thick vine they'd fashioned into the snare before too much blood rushed to my head.

  "Use magic. Make self go bye then."

  Tarlox had been fond of torturing me when I'd been training to master the Hellfire. "If I use my magic, it won't be me who goes 'bye.'" Probably not a good idea to threaten either of the harpies if I wanted out of this trap. "But seriously. Help me out. I'm starting not to feel good."

  "Bring demon out," an unseen voice said.

  Both Tarlox and Yveine disappeared, and a wash a panic gripped my brain. If they abandoned me, I'd have to rely on someone tripping across me or me somehow creatively using my power to propel me out of the pit. I'd come a long way in a short time, but firing the magic while upside down in a confined space, with the pool of sap of undetermined depth waiting, I was asking for trouble.

  "But he stole our land," Yveine protested.

  I took comfort in knowing she was close enough for me to hear her complaints.

  "I didn't steal anything," I said in a singsong voice, trying not to upset any of my keepers.

  "Bring now!" the authoritative voice said.

  "Want no trouble because of stupid demon." Tarlox's voice.

  A series of screeches and grunts came from above me. The vine creaked as I was hauled up and out of the pit.

  I breathed a deep lungful of sapless air. Once the world stopped spinning, I focused on the scene before me. Forty harpies, all nude and female, sat on tree branches, looking up. Above all, on a branch of her own, was the largest harpy I'd ever seen.

  The harpy matriarch was seven feet tall. Her wings were held close, covering what was likely her nakedness, but looked big enough that they could have spanned the entire tree. But it was her talons that got my attention. Sharp enough to cut diamonds. This harpy was royalty through and through.

  "Why you on our land?" she asked in a husky voice.

  I indicated Yveine and Tarlox. "Like I've told them too many times to count, I didn't steal your land. I don't want your land. I wanted us to live together and find a peaceful solution to a situation that honestly none of us had anything to do with."

  She raised her hand, and the grunting and chirping that had begun during my response was cut off immediately. "Not talking about that. Talking about why you here now."

  Having any discussions with the harpies was a guaranteed headache, I'd learned. Surrounded by them, knowing they could shred me better than lettuce if they wanted, I had to be patient. "Here? In this part of the jungle?"

  She bristled. "Yes."

  "Honestly, I was just taking a walk to clear my head."

  "Head too empty," Yveine said. And I received a discouraging level of raucous chirps.

  "Look, I'm not here to cause trouble. I just took over this gig as Lucifer, and I needed a break." I looked to the large harpy I presumed was their queen. "You understand that. Ruling is tough, right?"

  I allowed the question to hang in the air until I got a response. Finally, she nodded.

  "So I'm sure you understand why I'd need to get away. That's all this was. I'm just taking a walk so I can figure out how I'm supposed to rule my kind." I figured a small compliment wouldn't hurt. "So if you have any advice, I'm all ears."

  The harpy Queen harrumphed. "Little demon with big title."

  Lots of chirps from her congregation at that.

  "When we get our land back?" she asked.

  How long had I been going around with the harpies about their perception that the Exiles stole their land? The struggle may be as old as the first resident to set foot on the Isle of Dread. Time for a different tactic. "That's being looked into."

  Bristling all around the branches of the trees now as harpies shook their wings. In irritation, pleasure, or something else, I couldn't tell.

  "You Lucifer now."

  "Yes," I said slowly, not understanding if their queen was making an observation or a statement. "I am. And that's why the living arrangements can be looked at. I need time to get everything under control. Surely, you understand. No leader worth their salt makes changes as soon as they take control."

  The harpy matriarch blinked. Not much of an answer.

  "None of the demons who live on the island want to be here. Don't get me wrong; it's a beautiful place. But it's yours." A lot more bristling in the branches now. "We were forced to be here by those who ruled us. We can change that now, but change takes time."

  "It does. Too long," the queen said.

  "All demons stupid," came the response from far to the right.

  "More broken promises," the queen responded with an irritated flap of her wings. An impressively fast snap of the large appendages. Yep, she too was naked under the cover of the wings. Her pale, humanoid features revealed for a brief second that made me look away.

  More chirps from the harpies.

  Just when I thought I was moving in the right direction with this isolated population with a legitimate gripe, I was losing ground. Of course, I was battling millennia of other demons abusing the harpies. I couldn't overcome that in a single conversation.

  "I'm different," I said firmly, not breaking eye contact. I was in her subordinate as the harpies were. I wasn't her equal. I was the ruler of this realm, and she needed to know that—almost as much as I needed to remind myself constantly.

  "Most rulers threaten. Lie. Disrespect."

  "And you're going to realize that I am not like what you've had before. I just need time."

  Before the matriarch could respond, shouts echoed behind me, followed by a splash. I spun, snagging Creed. The halberd hadn't given me an early warning, which was why my heart pounded. In the trees, a score of harpies took flight, their wings batting the air as they flew over a second pit in the trail, one I'd fortunately and accidentally avoided.

  "Help! Help!"

  A demon had fallen into the pit. A familiar voice. And incubus.

  The harpies fluttered over the hole. I wasn't about to let anyone suffer. I grabbed the vines and began tugging.

  Two harpies broke from their formation and buzzed over my head, one of them shouting. "Ours! Leave alone!"

  I looked toward their queen. "A little help here?"

  She cawed, a sound far more menacing than a crow or raven. Not only did the harpies cease taking swipes at me, but they helped with the vine. A demon was pulled from the pit, upside down, snared like I'd been. It was Capricorn.

 

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