Dreamers Do Lie

by Megan Cutler

  In the mortal realm, where Lucifer's power was less than absolute, she may have been able to resist him. In her dying moments, she failed even to reach her desired destination. Her foolish haste to deal the devil's pride a serious blow had put the entire world at risk. Success might not be enough to spare them eternal darkness.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight: Chelal Ogdul

  The carriage rolled to a stop and the demonic footman opened the door. His wings fluttered at his back as he pressed his forehead to the ground. Arimand exited first, then offered Kaylie his arm. She set her fingers against it, lifting her skirts as she descended. Even that small contact made her gag but, if she was going to negotiate, she needed to be tactful.

  The first light of dawn kissed the horizon as Kaylie beheld the exterior of Chelal Ogdul. She blinked, dazzled by the spectacle. The manor sat atop a hill, surrounded by the most intricate flower garden she had ever seen. A hedge maze lined the threshold, the walls twice her height. The sky was clear and sunlight glinted on dewdrops sprinkling the verdant lawn.

  Was she still in Hell?

  “I can create beauty too, you know.”

  Kaylie's cheeks caught fire. Her expression must have betrayed her surprise. “I only saw the interior last time,” she murmured, hoping to soothe any inadvertent insult.

  A narrow river ran between them and the entrance to the maze, spanned by a slender, decorative wooden bridge. The carriage wouldn't fit across unless Arimand deigned to expand it. Relaxed by the steady babble of rushing water, Kaylie almost forgot where she was.

  Arimand's arm slid out from under hers as he continued forward. He paused when he reached the bridge's edge. Laying one hand on the railing, he turned and arched a perfect midnight eyebrow.

  “I'm not falling for that trick again,” Kaylie growled, pointing at the river. Lethe, River of Memory. A small splash could rob her of her mind, leaving her a blank slate.

  Arimand snorted, his upper lip curling with disgust. “What's this nonsense? I bring you for a scenic stroll and you accuse Me of trickery?”

  “So you aren't going to vanish the bridge as soon as I commit my weight to it?”

  “If I wanted you in the Lethe, you would be in it. As a damned soul, you are subject to My will. Have I not made it clear that, for the moment, you have My grace?”

  “Then why don't you use your grace to whisk me to the other side of the river?”

  Something inhuman flashed in Arimand's eyes as they narrowed. Kaylie met his gaze without flinching. He could teleport them directly to his manor. Why waste all this time on a tour?

  Abandoning his position, Arimand stomped back to her. In one fluid movement, he scooped her off the ground. She kicked and struggled as he carried her across the bridge, clawing his face with her long nails, but his grip remained firm. When they reached the other side, he dumped her unceremoniously at his feet. At least she landed on dry ground.

  “Perhaps now you will cease wasting My time?” Arimand set a hand across the scratches on his cheek. When he removed it, they were gone.

  Kaylie lifted her chin as she stood. She spent several minutes smoothing her skirts and fussing with her hair. Only when he opened his mouth to complain did she extend her hand in his direction, batting her eyelashes with feigned innocence.

  He scowled but set his arm beneath hers, leading her through the arched entry to the maze. Blossoms of every color covered the inner walls, some forming intricate designs as though laid across a canvas by a painter. Kaylie could have spent hours contemplating those arrangements without worrying about an exit, but it didn't take long to navigate the hedges with Arimand's guidance. He seemed content to let her linger, but she was anxious to move on, eager to gain answers.

  They emerged from the maze into the garden. The hill's slope wasn't as steep as it seemed from afar. Here the flowers grew in neat, ordered patterns, surrounding carefully trimmed trees and bushes. They passed a large pond with a miniature waterfall at one end. Brightly colored fish swirled beneath the water and white lily pads lined the edges. Kaylie paused to observe the antics of the fish and a bluebird swooped to drink from the waterfall.

  “I can't believe this is real,” she breathed before she realized she'd spoken. Had the King of Hell created all this for her benefit? A show of power? Why bother if he intended to bend her to his will?

  “Should I live in squalor because My realm is inhabited by the refuse of your world? Are roses not counted among the most beautiful flowers to grow on the mortal plane? Do they not lure you close with their pleasing shape and scent, then prick with cruel thorns when you try to pluck them?”

  So the gardens were his; she should have guessed. “Then you consider Chelal Ogdul your hidden gem?”

  “Perhaps. In any case, the objects in My realm are as real as those in yours, and as varied.”

  “Yet they cannot pass into the mortal realm.”

  “They can. Though aside from demons, all objects born in My realm are cursed by my siblings to appear as pale shadows in your world. A tragedy. The very reason there is no gateway between the two realms. Even if a soul could leave, they would be but an echo on the other side, a ghost, unable to touch or affect the world around them.”

  “What if the soul were bound for Heaven? Would it drift to its final destination?”

  “It might,” Arimand agreed, but said no more.

  By now, they stood at the base of the stairs which lead to the manor's massive main door. Chelal Ogdul was a three-tiered structure. The first three floors resembled a castle, built of blue-grey stone with high, crenellated walls. Rather than defensive, the design seemed decorative. Carvings surrounded each of the large windows; strings of flowers, fantastical creatures and birds in flight adorned the nearest. Thick towers stood at the mansion's four corners, their rooftops capped near the building's second tier.

  Where it ceased to resemble a castle, Chelal Ogdul looked like a cathedral. There the walls were thinner, flanked by flying buttresses that gave the structure a skeletal sense. Every surface was covered in carvings and statues. Even the large windows bore opulent stained glass reliefs. A second set of narrow towers accompanied this tier, offset from the first.

  Chelal Ogdul terminated in a grand spire, the top of which disappeared into the clouds. It was grand, to say the least. In the mortal world, such a marvel would take a lifetime to construct. Perhaps more.

  At first glance, it was beautiful, almost too much to comprehend. But the longer Kaylie's eyes lingered, the gaudier it seemed. The more she studied the intricate architecture, the more she noticed its flaws. Lucifer's mansion was an overblown, false façade, designed to conceal its true nature. Much like its owner.

  Arimand waited until Kaylie finished admiring his domicile to lead her up the stairs. As they passed through the grand doors into the great hall, he abandoned the human illusion and resumed his normal form. His clothing was finer, almost as ostentatious as his castle's exterior. His hair was longer. His bat-like wings were folded across his shoulders like a cloak.

  Kaylie was careful not to react, but she was relieved to be rid of Arimand's face and the unpleasant memories it summoned.

  As he led her down the hallway, she recognized the vaulted ceilings and tapestry-adorned walls. Not that familiar territory allowed her to relax. This was the heart of the devil's power and she had come to challenge him with little more than desperate, reckless hope.

  “There is one among My household who wishes to speak with you.”

  Kaylie's heart fluttered. He couldn't mean Moril, but who else would she find here?

  Their destination was a lavish sitting room with a large set of windows overlooking the garden. The room's sole occupant stood in the far corner, wringing her hands anxiously. When their eyes met, Dwenba and Kaylie ran to each other, each sweeping the other into a fierce embrace.

  “My heart is torn, my lady,” Dwenba murmured between sobs. “It's a relief to see you restored to your former glory, but I hoped never to see you again! Wh
en your beau told us you'd gone safely home…” She hesitated, glancing in Lucifer's direction.

  “Speak freely, Dwenba,” The King of Hell replied with a sweeping gesture. “You are under My protection. None will dare punish you for speaking the truth.”

  Kaylie untangled herself from her companion's embrace and led her to one of the crimson draped couches while their host continued. “Dwenba has joined My employ.”

  “I clean the manor,” she admitted, sinking into the plush cushions as if she wished they would swallow her. She bowed her head, lowered her eyes, and curled smaller than Kaylie had ever seen her.

  “And she sleeps in a comfortable chamber and receives three generous meals a day,” Lucifer added, sounding quite pleased with himself. “But I have interrupted your grand reunion. Please, enjoy each other's company. I will send a servant to fetch you when the feast is prepared.” He bowed with a flourish and departed before Kaylie could protest. She bit the inside of her lip, annoyed that she had squandered a prime opportunity to make her case.

  They sat in silence for several minutes after their host's departure before Dwenba gained the courage to speak.

  “It's dreadful, Lady Kaylie. They took everyone who survived into the dungeons beneath this castle. Eselt's down there. And your Moril too.” She paused, too overwhelmed with emotion to continue.

  “It's okay.” Kaylie laid a hand on her friend's shoulder. “I can't tell you how relieved I am to find you up here. I dread to think… Never mind. I can guess what happened after I left. You don't have to speak of it.”

  “We were horrified when Arimand revealed himself on the riverbank. He was like a mad man after Moril took you. Restless, driven, even ruthless at times. Thail told me once that Arimand seemed more like a demon than a man after the duel, but I don't think he dared let anyone else hear it. We should have known then something wasn't right. We were all so concerned with finding you-”

  “It was as much my fault as anyone else's. I should have known better than to trust him. If only I had remembered something, anything!” She shook her head. “Should-haves will hardly serve us now. I allowed myself to be blinded by perceived nobility. We all did.”

  “But how have you returned? And why, my lady? Moril assured us that all would be well when you disappeared. He said you had gone home, back to your life and all the people who needed you.”

  “I did go home. But all was not well, Dwenba. Not with Moril stuck down here.” Perhaps she shouldn't speak so brazenly in Lucifer's halls. He could probably hear everything they said. But she had already revealed her purpose, what more harm could honesty do?

  Dwenba clutched Kaylie's hand and glanced toward the hallway, face pale as a sheet. “I'm afraid you'll never reach him, my lady. Those dungeons are miles deep and filled with demons. I can't even remember the way they brought me out.”

  Kaylie smiled grimly. “Don't worry. I don't intend to fight my way through the catacombs. Just let me handle the situation. I know what I'm doing.” At least, I hope I do.

  “You don't understand! Arimand told us his plan after you vanished. He wants to-”

  “Marry me. I know. But if all goes well, it won't matter. Please try to trust me. If nothing else, it will make me feel better.” She could use a little faith right now, even if it wasn't her own.

  “An old soul like me should have learned long ago not to put my trust in anyone. But I've faith your heart is in the right place, Lady Kaylie. You've got a stronger soul than ever I've seen.”

  Kaylie was about to thank her friend when a demon appeared in the doorway. It looked ridiculous, dressed in a butler's finery with its wings folded tightly against its back.

  “Ladies, the Lord of Hell requests your presence in the dining room.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine: A Deal with the Devil

  In the depths of Chelal Ogdul's dungeons, oblivion was a kindness. But it never lasted long. Moril drifted back to consciousness, aware of the shackles biting his wrists, the cold stone numbing his back, and the itchy scabbing of his recently earned cuts and scratches. His only grim hope was that their captor would forget about them one day soon, allowing them to stew in their own misery for the long eons to come.

  Eselt's chains rattled beside him. “Are you awake, lad?”

  Moril opened his mouth to respond and a low moan escaped his throat. How he longed to return to empty darkness, to let it swallow him, but his incessant aches kept further sleep at bay. He tapped his tongue against the top of his dry mouth and tried again to summon words. “Unfortunately.”

  “Did I wake you?”

  “No, my friend, my wounds did.”

  Silence. Moril shifted, hoping to find relief for a stabbing pain in his left arm. He bumped Eselt, but the man had his head turned away. The silence lingered for several moments after Moril came to rest, abandoning his quest for relief.

  When Eselt spoke again his voice was uncharacteristically soft and tremulous. “You still consider me a friend? After all Arimand said?”

  “You shouldn't speak his name,” Moril chided gently. “We don't know if that alias will draw his attention. And no, I haven't let his words change my opinion of you. You took care of Kaylie. You fought for her. That's what matters to me.”

  “If only I had realized our purposes were aligned-”

  “That was my fault, not yours. I thought you were all part of Ari… your guide's ploy, willing participants in his plan to trap Kaylie in Hell. How else were you supposed to react to a demon trying to kill you?”

  “I suppose there's no point bemoaning what's past. We should be thinking about the future. I think I've got these old shackles a bit loose. Give me a couple more hours. I might be able to get you free of those chains.”

  “To what end? You've seen what lies beyond that door.”

  “And I've seen what lies in store if we accept this wretched fate. Are we just going to hang here forever letting that blasted demon do as he pleases?”

  “The more we fight him, the longer it's going to keep his attention focused on us.”

  “Good!” Eselt roared, shaking several of the other captives awake. “I'll force him to devote every waking moment to my capture and restraint if that's all I can do to oppose the bastard.”

  How could the fallen clan leader maintain such fire when he'd tasted the lash twice as much as the rest of them? Where has my fire gone? Why am I so willing to bow before Hell's fury?

  “There are miles of tunnels down here, Eselt. All filled with demons. Even if we do manage to evade capture, we'll never find our way back to the surface.” And if, by some miracle, they did, there'd be no escaping Lucifer's mansion. No doubt Hell's ruler could reshape his home at will to keep them from reaching an exit. And beyond Chelal Ogdul lay the sinister river Lethe, which could only be crossed with the devil's grace.

  “If we can't escape, we'll do something else. That infernal bastard took Dwenba. We could go find her. Maybe she can help you find a way free of this wretched place, if she really does have access to the manor above.”

  “Me? Am I supposed to leave you to rot after you've done all the work?”

  Eselt chuckled. “You'll have plenty to do if I'm going to serve as a distraction. Whatever fate befalls me is deserved. I never believed a soul like mine could find redemption.”

  “And what about Dwenba?”

  Eselt stopped fiddling with Moril's shackles and met his gaze. “Her sins are quite a bit different than mine.”

  “The King of Hell doesn't seem to make that distinction. I used to believe the same thing, that the damned deserved their fate. It's one of the reasons I attacked your people. If I had tried to prove my intentions instead, you may have helped me. Shouldn't a decade or a century be enough penance to pay for a mistake? A poor choice? Shouldn't regret count for something?”

  “It doesn't matter what mere men think,” Eselt spat. “The old gods set their laws and they ain't ever gunna change them. I told Ari… that little bastard I thought was my friend that in He
ll, a man has to make his own redemption. We all thought seeing Kaylie safely home would be ours. If all I can do is make the devil roll his eyes at me, so damn be it.”

  Someone threw the bolt on their cell, interrupting their conversation. A moment later, the door creaked open.

  Lucifer paused in the doorway as if to give them a chance to admire him. His clothing was finer than before, made of black silk with extravagant golden embroidery. The smug upturn of his lips had turned to glee.

  Moril's stomach lurched. Something had erased the demon lord's anger. Had he launched a second attack against Corvala? Assaulted the royal family? Or turned one of the war hungry emperors against the small kingdom?

  “My poor Moril,” Lucifer purred as he advanced. “So certain of his noble deed. Doesn't realize he died in vain.”

  “What are you on about?” Eselt demanded.

  Moril gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to speak.

  Lucifer stopped less than a foot from where they hung and leaned his face toward Eselt. “How ironic is it that Lady Kaylie rejected Moril's sacrifice in favor of her own desires?”

  “What have you done to her?” Moril growled. His racing heart pounded against the confines of his chest. Instinctively, he jerked against his manacles. If only he could tear them from the wall and wrap those chains around the devil's neck. Here was the fire Eselt had been trying to rekindle.

  “I?” Lucifer laid a hand on his chest and snorted. “I have done nothing. She returned of her own accord.”

  “Impossible! The king would never grant her the means to return.” And if ever a man had an iron will, it was King Lornaltas Serdray, especially where his daughter's safety was concerned.

  The inner glow of Lucifer's bloody eyes seemed to brighten, as if fueled by his glee. “Which may be the very reason her soul is now damned.”

  An inhuman howl tore from Moril's throat. If only he could summon the demon form's strength. He would tear down this prison cell and all the tunnels of dungeon beyond. He would demolish the devil's grand palace until the King of the Damned found a way to restrain the inferno in his soul. His fevered mind couldn't form coherent words. What Lucifer suggested simply wasn't possible.