Dreamers Do Lie

by Megan Cutler

  “Kaylie's heart was too pure to suffer damnation,” Eselt answered for him. “She was kind even to those who tried to hurt her. And she can't have been gone more than a few mortal days. What possible stain could she earn in that time?”

  Others added voice to their doubts until the small room echoed with a cacophony of angry disbelief. Moril's eyes remained locked on Lucifer the entire time. Usually when their protests denied him his sport, his eyes would narrow and his lips would twist with disgust. They always paid for it, but it was worth the pain to deny the devil his fun.

  Today, their denial only seemed to amuse Lucifer more. He waited until they abandoned their objections to speak again. “Perhaps you could enlighten your ignorant companions, Moril. Tell them how easily a pristine soul can damn itself.”

  Moril's heart skipped a beat. Kaylie's voice drifted back to him across the gulf of time. She stood in front of him, clutching a dusty, leather-bound tome. The spine was cracked and the title was written in a loopy scrawl he could barely decipher.

  “The fastest and surest way to reach Hell is to take your own life. The church claims rejecting the sacred gift of life was considered foul even before Lucifer's revolt. They seem to forget that Hell predates the creation of Heaven.”

  “You disagree with their assessment?” He had asked while she piled a fresh set books on his waiting arms.

  “Everyone assumes the deepest ring of Hell is reserved for the worst sin. But we know Lucifer's realm expanded at the same rate as his influence. And who is easiest in our world to manipulate? It isn't the evil; it's the downtrodden, the desperate, the people who have nothing left. The voice of doubt already whispers in their ears. How easy would it be for the Prince of Lies to sink his claws into their souls? And once the devil taints you with his influence, that's probably all it takes. He calls, they answer, and then he drags them home.”

  A broken sound escaped Moril's lips. Kaylie had been too confident to fall prey to whispers of doubt and self-destruction. Had she embraced Lucifer's influence or simply acted on her knowledge out of expediency? Did it matter? The most beautiful soul he'd ever encountered had been stolen from the world, condemned to Hell and an eternity of suffering. Because of him.

  Lucifer's rich laughter echoed from the walls of their prison. “I see you understand. But I will never allow the two of you to reunite. Though I may allow you to attend our wedding, so you can watch your beloved pledge herself to Me.”

  His cackles echoed down the hallway for several minutes after his departure. Moril closed his eyes, trying to forget, trying to rekindle the fire that had burned so bright and hot in his chest only minutes before. But this revelation left him rawer than the rest of his wounds.

  “Don't take it to heart, lad,” Eselt insisted. “You know as well as I it's just another one of his lies.”

  “You don't know Kaylie like I do,” Moril choked around the lump in his throat. “I should have known nothing could prevent her mounting a rescue mission if she took it into her head to try. Mountains couldn't stop her rearranging their locations once she made up her mind.” But he had never dreamed her love for him ran so deep.

  ~*~*~*~

  Kaylie remembered the devil's grand dining hall, though she wished she could forget. A large, ebony wood table dominated the center of the room, surrounded by comfortable armchairs. Paintings and tapestries covered the walls, depicting Lucifer victorious in various battles, surrounded by his demon minions, usually atop the bloody bodies of his foes. The marble floor bore an intricate geometric mosaic pattern. High overhead, the vaulted ceilings were set with stained glass windows, though she couldn't make out the details of their designs from down here.

  How could anyone stand to spend any amount of time in this room? Not only were the depictions too graphic to be viewed while eating, there was no place for the eyes to find rest from the visual assault.

  Lucifer sat at the head of the table and motioned for the ladies to take the seats on either side of him. Kaylie settled into the one on his right. Dwenba hesitated before taking the seat across the table.

  A trio of slender demons stepped forward, lifting silver lids from various serving platters, filling the room with savory scents. Most of the dishes were considered delicacies in the mortal world. Kaylie recognized several of the emperors' favored cuisines from negotiations she had attended with her father. Dwenba's eyes bulged as if she'd never seen so much food in one place before. Maybe she hadn't.

  Lucifer scooped an ample portion from each platter onto his plate. His demon servants pushed everything within his reach, shuffling dishes out of the way as he finished with them. Despite several expectant glances, both women hesitated to reach for the serving spoons.

  The delectable scents turned Kaylie's stomach. Not because her last meal in this hall ended with the theft of her identity; Lucifer had made it clear he saw no point in repeating that deception. It was the months she spent in Ethilirotha that twisted her with guilt. The meager portions the clan had shared with her. Dwenba's constant struggle to keep them fed. Vivid memories of an empty stomach as they drifted down the river Phlegethon and trudged across Hell's third and fourth rings.

  Her eyes found Dwenba's across the table and she nodded encouragement. It would be an insult if they refused the devil's gift, and they would no doubt pay for it. Kaylie couldn't afford to put Lucifer in a bad mood before her negotiations began.

  She filled her plate with small portions and ate slowly. She spent a lot of time moving food around, hoping to make it look like she ate more than she did. Dwenba grew paler with each bite she took, but the food disappeared steadily from her plate.

  Their host filled the initial silence with pointless chatter. Kaylie didn't pay attention to much of it. She learned during her first visit the King of Hell enjoyed the sound of his own voice. He probably spoke to himself when there was no one around. His plate was nearly empty when he fixed Kaylie in the center of his focus.

  “Now, My dear, tell Me about the matter that brought you back here.”

  Kaylie sat up straighter, unconsciously adopting a regal air. “I should think it would be obvious.”

  Lucifer smirked. “Indeed. But indulge Me.”

  “Very well. When I departed your realm, you took into your care someone I love. He lived at the time and should have returned with me to the mortal realm. That he remained behind was a fault of mine. Now that he's dead, I think it only fair he receive an appropriate reward for his years of faithful service, and his sacrifice to my family. Two men had the power to fulfill this wish. Since my initial negotiations failed, I now appeal to the higher power.”

  Lucifer set his fork aside, signaling the end of dinner. His demon servants melted from the shadows to clear the dishes. Kaylie folded her hands in her lap.

  “What makes you think I can assist you?” Lucifer asked with feigned surprise.

  “Your power in your realm is absolute, is it not?”

  “I think it is less a question of My power and more a question of My willingness to grant your request. Why do you believe I will be more reasonable than your father?”

  “You have what you want.” Her tone was flat. “Surely by erasing Moril's slight, I have earned his freedom.”

  Lucifer chuckled, a slow, mocking sound. “My dear Kaylie, you have underestimated how much I enjoy your former lover's company. Why should I give up my new favorite pastime?”

  Kaylie steeled herself, squared her shoulders and willed her stomach to cease churning. Her head felt light, her fingers and toes tingled and her heart beat like a butterfly trying to escape a whirlwind. “I thought you might do it for me. As a wedding gift.”

  Dwenba gasped.

  Lucifer leaned forward, resting one elbow on the table and his chin on his upturned hand. “I will make you Queen of Hell. Is that not generous enough?”

  “Moril's release will be sufficient,” Kaylie replied with an exaggerated smile, her voice sickly sweet.

  The devil rocked back in his chai
r as if she had slapped him across the face. “As a damned soul, you are subject to My whim. You will get what I give you and you will be grateful.”

  He expected her to cower, to bow her head and agree meekly to his demands. She had seen the power of his realm from its outer rim to its deepest heart. No doubt his recent tour had been meant to illustrate that power. The striking architecture of the city, the teleportation of the carriage, the impressive nature of this fortress mansion and the summoning of a meal almost from thin air, all were meant to extinguish her hope and crush any resistance she planned to offer.

  But she had not taken a dagger to her wrists to supplicate herself before the devil. Drawing a deep breath, Kaylie slid to her feet, pushing her chair out behind her. She laid her hands on the table, bracing herself against its solid bulk, hoping her host couldn't tell she needed the support. She exhaled, willing her voice to be strong and steady when she spoke.

  “You said the body I bear in Hell is imbued with the same power I possessed during life. Indeed, I could see the safe path leading me through the forest before you came to fetch me. If my power were diminished by death, would it not fail to breed true? Perhaps I am not as subject to your will as you would have me believe.”

  Lucifer swept to his feet. At his full height, he towered over her. His wings slid from his shoulders, unfurling with an audible snap. No doubt he could make himself ten times taller if he wanted.

  An imposing aura surrounded him, driving the breath from her lungs and all sound from her ears save the pounding of her frantic heart. Kaylie fought to keep her expression neutral, though her legs nearly gave out beneath her.

  “I will crush whatever token resistance you offer.” Lucifer's voice echoed strangely, as if it came from somewhere beyond where he stood, some place of great power.

  Kaylie shivered. She pressed her fingers against the ebony table until her knuckles turned white. “Shall we test it?” It took all her effort to keep her voice from trembling. “The angelic power in my veins against the might of your realm? How much do you think I can manifest in the seat of your power?”

  “You walk a dangerous line.” Again Lucifer's voice vibrated with force.

  Kaylie swallowed hard. “Release Moril to Heaven and I will be your faithful, devoted wife for all eternity, or until you tire of me. Otherwise I will fight you every moment, tooth and nail, with whatever force I can muster for as long as he remains a prisoner in your realm.”

  For several long moments, they stood poised on the brink of confrontation. Lucifer drew quick, shallow breaths, flapping his massive wings with agitation. Dark power swirled around him like a gathering storm. Kaylie had never experienced such a concentration of mage energy, not even when all Corvala's royal mages gathered to assist her descent into Hell. Lucifer could crush her like an insect if he wanted to.

  What paltry resistance could she offer? She had hoped both bluff and bravado would carry more weight. Ignoring the rush of blood in her ears and the gathering chill in her limbs, Kaylie turned her focus inward. Her power hadn't carried her to her intended destination, but she had been confused when she called it, dying, disoriented. Would it answer if she called from this hall?

  Deep within her chest, beyond despair and desperation, a spark of fire still burned. She reached for it, breathing gently upon the flames, urging it to grow. Power surged through her limbs, warm, eager and electric. But would it be enough?

  Massive magical vortexes filled the room and Kaylie's power was a tiny speck compared to the force Lucifer commanded. Lucifer was a god. An exiled god, but a deity none-the-less. He possessed power she couldn't hope to comprehend; the ability to shape reality. She wielded a mere fraction of the magic once given to an ascended being by another god, a fraction of a fragment of a deity's power. Her father told her once that even a single candle could light a large room. She wanted to believe it. But how far could determination carry her?

  The moment she expected Lucifer's wrath to descend on her, he relented. His magic dissipated, releasing the constriction in Kaylie's chest.

  “Very well,” he snarled. “It would save time if you were willing. When we have consummated our vows-”

  Still dizzy from the sudden shift in pressure, Kaylie could barely believe her ears. “No!” she cried, half-terrified, half-giddy. She drew a deep breath; she couldn't afford to lose her wits or her tongue at the moment. “If I wait, what guarantee do I have that you will keep your promise?”

  A low growl issued from deep in Lucifer's throat. “What reassurance am I to receive that you will not put up a fuss if I release him before our vows are spoken?”

  “I did not trick you into drinking water from the river Lethe at the conclusion of our last negotiation,” Kaylie retorted, lifting her chin.

  Lucifer's shoulders rose as his chest swelled. “Fine,” he spat. “If it will make you coopera-”

  “Wait!” Kaylie stumbled a frantic half-step forward, both arms extended in front of her.

  The King of Hell emitted a soft hiss, his blood-red eyes narrowing to slits. “Have you changed your mind already?”

  “Of course not. But if you grant my request this moment, what proof will I have that Moril has gone free? I must see his ascension.”

  “You ask too much.”

  Of course; he never intended to grant her request. He had called her bluff with one of his own. They had written no contract, signed no agreement. There was nothing to bind him in the future if she fulfilled his desires now. She knew better than to take the devil for his word.

  “It seems such a small token to me,” she protested, trying once again to sound sweet and innocent. “Consider what you ask of me. Mother of the army that will conquer the old gods? A daunting task for a mere mortal.”

  She expected another standoff, a grand show of power. Instead, he spun on his heels and stalked to the far side of the room. One clawed hand reached into the shadows and jerked a demon into the light. “Bring the prisoner Moril to Me. Clean him first. I don't want blood in My dining room.”

  He snapped his fingers as he stomped back to the table, eyes burning through Kaylie's skull with every step. “Fetch dessert,” his voice echoed throughout the dining hall, reflected this time by the walls. “I want a grand spread for My bride and her guest. And we shall need some entertainment while we wait.”

  Head spinning, stomach clenched, Kaylie returned to her seat. She had pressed her luck as far as she dared. Lucifer's concession could be a trap and she had no idea how to counter it. Knowing it was doomed to fall short of its destination, Kaylie sent a silent prayer to the old gods anyway. Their help would not go amiss.

  Chapter Thirty: A Lover's Farewell

  “I'll have you free in a moment lad, don't you worry!” Eselt jabbed a jagged wooden splinter into the keyhole of Moril's shackles, jostling him as he jammed it back and forth. How Eselt managed to escape his restraints, Moril didn't know. He hadn't noticed much since their host's departure, mired in the morose stupor summoned by his revelation. Perhaps Eselt dislocated one of his wrists. What was a little extra pain? But even if they could get free, what help could they offer Kaylie now?

  “You can't give up,” Eselt insisted, as if reading his mind. “She's above us somewhere, and you've got the best chance of helping her!”

  The cell bolt clacked and the door creaked open. Eselt dove for the floor, pressing himself into the shadows of the far corner. But the demons' eyes were keen. One of the winged creatures swooped forward, dragging Eselt toward the door where the other two conferred.

  “Him,” a blue-skinned, thick-limbed creature announced, pointing to Moril. “That's the one the master wants.”

  “Blasted infernal beasts!” Eselt growled, struggling to break free from the claws entangled in his hair.

  The winged demon flashed him a fanged grin and laughed as he dragged Eselt through the door. “I think this one could use some attention.”

  “Don't care what you do, so long as the Master gets what he wants.”


  The third demon stomped across the room, unhooked Moril's shackles and pushed him into the hall, forcing him to walk on his own.

  “Don't worry, gents,” the first demon proclaimed as the other captives protested their treatment, “you won't be seeing this one again.” Then he slammed the door. But Moril wasn't certain who he meant.

  He ambled silently in the direction the demon propelled him, stumbling every time he received a rough shove. In a few minutes, he'd be strapped to another torture device. There he would remain until he screamed his throat raw and bled enough to satisfy his demon tormentors. It hardly mattered; Kaylie's death had already broken his spirit.

  “Don't give up!” Eselt howled as the winged demon hauled him down a dark corridor in the opposite direction. “Fight with all you've got, Moril!”

  Guilt pierced his heart. Once again, Eselt's defiance had outlived his. And now the man would pay for trying to help him and his beloved. How many times would he fight free of his cell and suffer the same punishment before he ceased? Would he ever?

  Drawing a deep breath, Moril steeled himself. Lucifer wanted him to give up and, since the moment of his arrival, he'd prided himself on denying the devil his desires. He needed to time this right, to attack just before they dragged him into the torture chamber. That should give him a few seconds to retrace his steps and, perhaps, hide in one of the twisting corridors.

  Moril's heart thudded in anticipation of the confrontation. The journey lasted longer than usual. The halls grew brighter, the torches spaced so that their light overlapped. Eventually the torches became lanterns. The floors became even and smooth, the walls decorated.

  They were leaving the dungeons!

  Moril's heart skipped a beat. Lucifer had threatened to summon him for Kaylie's wedding. Swallowing an overwhelming wave of despair, Moril latched onto the dying embers of hope deep in his chest. How could he stop it?