Ruby Shadows Read online



  “And why have you been expecting us?” I asked. “Has news of the battle at the Jealous Heart preceded us?”

  “What? There was a battle? With whom?” Belial asked, looking concerned.

  “The Skitterlings.” I sighed. “I am afraid there are considerably less of them to guard the Jealous Heart than there were.”

  “Oh dear…” Belial made a tsking noise I remembered well and shook his head. “I’m afraid that is not good news. But this is the first I have heard of it.”

  “Well then, why were you expecting us?” I led Kurex a little closer so that I could help Gwendolyn dismount.

  “Because of Druaga—I understand you passed a night at the Hotel Infernal?” Belial raised one grizzled gray eyebrow at me.

  “Yes, we did,” I said neutrally. “He offered Gwendolyn a grave insult. I was obliged to defend her honor.”

  “Most commendable, my Lord,” Belial murmured. “But I’m afraid that now Druaga is bringing a complaint against you to the Council of Elder Demons.”

  “Why?” Gwendolyn asked as I helped her down from Kurex’s back. “Because Laish burned his, uh, horn off?”

  “Among other things,” I added.

  The gray eyebrow went up again.

  “Yes, I heard about that,” Belial remarked. “But no, that is not the issue. Druaga claims you have stolen something from him—something incredibly valuable and rare and he wants it back along with recompense for his pain and suffering.”

  “Is this about my shoe again?” Gwendolyn asked, putting a hand on her hip. “Because that is just ridiculous!”

  Belial shrugged. “He has not said what the item is. Apparently he is reluctant to disclose it until the Council convenes—if they agree to hear his case, that is.”

  “This is ridiculous,” I growled. “Druaga is simply upset that I would not allow him to sample some of Gwendolyn’s soul. He has no claim on us—any damages or losses he sustained were a direct result of his own arrogance and rude behavior.”

  “Hopefully the Council will see it that way as well.” Belial nodded sagely. “For now, we can only wait and see. But in the meantime, may I show you around the Citadel of Knowledge, young lady?”

  He turned to Gwendolyn and offered his arm in a courtly gesture.

  She looked at me uncertainly and I nodded reassuringly.

  “You are as safe with Belial as you are with me,” I told her. “Go and explore the Citadel if you like. I have a bit of business to attend to while we are here.”

  “All right.” She smiled tentatively and took Belial’s arm. “Thank you.”

  “You’re more than welcome, my dear. Now what part would you like to see first?”

  “First I’d like to know how a giant skull got turned into Laish’s penthouse,” Gwendolyn said, with a look at me. “Laish tells me there’s quite a story behind it but that you’re the only one who can tell it just right.”

  “Well I have been known to spin a yarn or two in my time.” Belial’s thin chest swelled with pride. “The history of Dis and of the Citadel especially is quite fascinating.”

  “Tell me all about it.” She smiled at him and he smiled back.

  I could tell my old mentor and Gwendolyn would be great friends—she already had him under her spell. I smothered a smile as I watched them walk away, arm in arm into the jaw of the Citadel. I would catch up to them later—for now let her enjoy a bit of her journey through the Infernal Realm. Gods knew she’d had enough trauma here to last her a lifetime. I wanted her to be able to relax for a time and recuperate. We had a difficult road ahead and she would need all the strength she could gather.

  * * * * *

  Gwendolyn

  “So this whole city is built on the remains of a giant demon?”

  “Not just built on the remains,” the old demon said to me. “Dis is actually built of the remains of Beelzebub.”

  “I thought that was just another name for the Devil,” I said doubtfully.

  “The Father of Lies has many designations but his true name is and always has been Lucifer,” he told me. “Beelzebub was simply one of his followers. His form of power was that of a giant—he went to war in that form quite often.”

  “Like Laish’s dragon form,” I said.

  “Oh, the Lord Laish has told you of his wyrm form?” Belial looked surprised.

  “He didn’t just tell me—he morphed into it right in front of me. Nearly scared me to death,” I confessed.

  “I see.” He nodded and I thought for a moment he looked troubled. “So back to the history of Dis: Beelzebub was killed in the second Celestial War about two millennia ago. He was in his giant form when he died and this is where his body fell…” Belial spread his wrinkled hands, indicating the city, which I could still see by looking through the gaps between the massive teeth in the jaw where we stood. It was cool in the shadow of the jaw. I slipped back into my white fur coat which I had taken with me when I dismounted from Kurex.

  “So people decided to build a city on—or out of—his body?” I asked, pulling the fur collar close around my neck.

  “Well, after a few centuries or so once the carcass had been picked clean by scavengers, yes. His bones make excellent building materials and the Tunnel of Sighs, which you passed through to get here, is actually Beelzebub’s voice box. Some say that is why the voices of the dead can speak there—the ancient demon’s voice magnifies their own until the living can actually hear them.”

  “And what happened to Beelzebub himself?” I asked.

  Belial frowned and shook his head.

  “Well, he died, my dear. Or what passes for death among our kind. Essentially his corporeal frame ceased to exist and his disembodied spirit was cast forever into the Lake of Fire.” He sighed. “Such is our fate when we finally expire.”

  “That’s awful,” I said. “But why didn’t Beelzebub just shed the giant form and use another form instead? Like Laish did when he left his dragon form behind after fighting the Skitterlings?”

  We had been strolling through the dark, rounded space created by the lower jaw of the skull which reminded me a little of a screened in porch—or a Florida room as they call it where I come from. But now Belial stopped short and looked at me, his cloudy yellow eyes going wide.

  “Did you say that Lord Laish abandoned his wyrm form? That he was forced to leave it behind after the battle?”

  “Well…yes.” I shrugged uncomfortably. “He told me there were just too many Skitterlings. They were everywhere.” I couldn’t repress a shudder at the memory. “I was just glad he got out alive at all! I thought he was dead for a while—it was awful.”

  “He was dead—or a good part of him at least.” Belial sounded grim. “That was one of his forms of power. I cannot count the victories he won in that form, charging in front of his regiments of demons as a great wyrm, spraying fire and spreading death and destruction in his wake.”

  “I’m really sorry,” I said feeling awkward. “I feel like it’s all my fault. I never meant—”

  “No, no, my dear.” Belial patted my hand comfortingly. “It’s quite all right. Lord Laish is one of the Great Demons—a Prince of Night and Shadow. Believe me, he has more than one form of power. His true form for instance, now that is something to behold. He has not…eh, shown you that one, has he?”

  “No,” I said candidly. “I, uh, think he’s afraid of what I’ll think of him if I see it. Although I don’t see how anything can be more terrible than his dragon form.”

  Belial looked slightly relieved.

  “Ah, the Lord Laish’s true form is both terrible and beautiful—that is what makes it so difficult to see,” he murmured. “It is a perversion of what he once was, you know.”

  “Which is what?” I asked, burning with curiosity. “What was he? How did he get here? And what does his true form actually look like?”

  “I am afraid if Lord Laish has not seen fit to tell you, I cannot either,” the ancient demon said mysteriously. “All that I ca