“Oh, that’s exactly what we’re going to do, love,” I said with a leer.
She rolled her eyes, affecting Azazel’s world-weariness, but she had no idea how much those words had hit me.
The minute we were alone again, I was going to take the next step.
Azazel had his mark.
Now she needed mine.
25
Melisande
We touched down near the Styx, and I wiped sweat off my forehead, my back clenching up tight.
We’d shaved nearly a week off our journey and managed to bypass Acheron completely, flying over the dead, gray land, but days of flying had taken its toll on largely-unused wings, and night was falling. Exhaustion dragged at my bones, pulling my eyelids down like bricks were attached.
Tascius stepped from the cloud of Azazel’s shadows and frowned when he saw me panting, bent over with my hands braced on my thighs.
“You’re not used to this,” he said, touching my shoulders and feeling the tight, knotted muscles there.
Lucifer dropped next to me. “Let me help you.”
“I’ve got it,” Tascius said, steel in his tone, and Lucifer raised an eyebrow but let him gather me up.
“We’ll make camp here for the night.” Azazel walked among the gray boulders of the mountain’s base and chose a clear spot under an overhang. There were signs of travelers before us, the dirt packed hard and the remains of an old campfire there.
I tried to ignore the drag marks that led from the overhang to the edge of the Styx. “Are you sure we’re safe here?”
“You have me,” was Azazel’s answer, and that was apparently all the answer we needed.
Tascius strode under the overhang and sat down with me in his lap, bracing his back against the stone. He arranged me so I was sitting between his legs, and then he began rubbing my back, pressing his thumbs deep into the knots.
I winced but let him work. If my back was still so tight tomorrow, there was no way we’d make it to Wayland’s forge by air. I didn’t want to walk the distance over the wastelands on foot, not when time was precious.
Of all the things that pulled me home, it was the joy of knowing I’d see Belial again soon. I felt like there was an anchor in my heart, and the other end of that chain lay with him. The further I’d gotten, the heavier the anchor had become; now that I was coming back, I felt lighter.
If I hadn’t been tired and aching to the bone, I would’ve kept flying. It was only one day longer; if we hadn’t flown, I’d still be days away. Every drop of pain was worth it.
Everyone was quiet as night fell, painting the sky in shades of indigo. I watched the surface of the Styx churn with unnerving shapes, but it was impossible to fear anything while my men were with me.
I fell asleep sitting up, cradled against Tascius’s chest.
The sky was gray again when I opened my eyes.
I’d somehow managed to sleep the whole night through right next to the Styx, without a single nightmare to show for it.
I got to my feet, ignoring a beckoning white hand that broke through the Styx’s oily surface, and brushed dust off my clothes.
The sooner we gave the smith what we needed, the sooner I’d get a hot shower and the chance to talk to Belial.
Lucifer, Azazel, and Tascius were already awake, talking quietly and facing the river. I slid into their little group, reaching out to touch both Azazel and Tascius.
“Are we ready?” I asked, and Lucifer ruffled my hair.
“We’ve been ready.”
I playfully brushed his hand away, but he was already out of reach, stepping into the sunlight. His silver gaze landed on my wings. “If you need to rest, we can stop. We’re not going to drive you into the ground just to get there faster.”
“I’ll be fine,” I said, tossing my hair over my shoulders and preparing for another day of strenuous exertion. “Not made of glass, remember?”
Azazel tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “We’re all very aware, but I’d rather not have you pull a muscle.”
I sighed, but there was a tiny little part of me that was pleased with their concern over my wellbeing. I’d suffered far worse under Gabriel’s training. Flying for days was the least of it.
But they actually cared, which was fine, as long as they knew I was going to disregard the concern and push myself anyways.
We flew up over the mountains, following the trail into the wasteland of Dis. The mountains to our left rose up in sharp peaks, and it was easy to follow the foothills.
After several hours, the sun beating down on us made me feel like my wings were scorching. I caught the occasional breeze, letting it dry the sweat on my face and cool the heat of the sunlight on my dark feathers.
The edge of Dis was barely visible, a dark rim on the horizon, when Azazel began to descend. His stars became brighter in the shadows of the foothills.
I landed and followed him onto the trail to Hekla Fell. Nobody spoke, accepting the last leg of the journey in silence, but both Lucifer and Tascius were careful to keep me between them whenever possible.
When we came to the tunnel, they didn’t say a word, seemingly reading each other’s minds. Lucifer strode in front of me, and Tascius took the rear. I extended a hand backwards and was pleased when he laced his fingers in mine, and Lucifer did the same for me.
Several times, I closed my eyes, the weight of invisible eyes once again pressing down on me. Making the journey a second time was no easier than the first time.
I never thought I’d say I was happy to feel the pulsing heat of Hekla Fell’s magma lake, but it was a far cry better than the strange sensation of being watched in that tunnel.
“Where’s the ebonite?” Lucifer asked Azazel, and
