“Mother will be… busy. The damage to her body was minimal, thanks to the eternal kindness of her spawn, yet it is far too soon for her to return. One month of your realm was her usual time to return in the past. After centuries of imprisonment, it may be far longer.”
“It is a human.”
Shalise sat at attention within her own mind. That might be the first good news she had heard in a very long time.
Prax laughed. His deep laugh came out strange in Shalise’s voice. “Not unless she has had some very interesting experiences since our parting. The human is a man with a beard.”
Trying to think of everyone she knew that had a beard, Shalise came up with only one real possibility. Assuming the man was someone she knew. But why would a human show up in Prax’s domain if not for her?
A few of the teachers at school had beards. None of them had any real reason to come after her. In fact, it was doubtful that they knew where she was in the first place. But there was a man with a beard that might come for her. Eva’s mentor, Devon something-or-other.
She had only spoken a handful of words to him, but maybe Eva was trying to rescue them.
“And here come two more. A man and a woman.”
Actually, that wasn’t so far-fetched. His daughter was somewhere around Hell. He was probably looking for her. But that meant that the woman was probably Genoa and not Eva.
“You are assuming that it is easy to locate an individual in the vastness of Hell.”
“I will concede that human visitors are a rarity in Hell, unless they have been brought by some other demon. But generally, those humans would not leave their patron demon’s domain for fear of becoming lost, stolen, or damaged.”
“I would rather not be seen in this sorry bit of flesh.”
“Servant! Do not dare to–”
It was too late. The moment her thoughts drifted towards how the place could be spruced up, the throne room changed.
Prax’s head whipped around as the faint sound of two trickling streams of water carved their way out of the wall behind the throne. The water flowed along the ground, digging in shallow canals that looped around either side of the throne.
Lush grass grew out of the islands formed by the streams of water. Thick trees–spruce, if Shalise was not mistaken–sprouted and stretched towards the ceiling.
A sickness in Shalise’s metaphysical stomach grew along with the daisies. She could feel Prax’s ire sizzling beneath his calm exterior.
Both armrests on the iron throne bent and crumpled under his grip.
Maybe not so calm.
“Every time this happens, it becomes ever more appealing to simply end you.”
“I fail to see what a mortal would know of our situation that I do not.”
That was true enough. Shalise didn’t understand much of anything that Prax did not explicitly explain.
He did not move. His emotions were going topsy-turvy.
Shalise kept silent, not wanting to garner further anger.
After several minutes of him emotionally debating with himself, Prax got to his feet. “I can hear them out. Given our current situation, assistance may be required. If they are not who you think they are, you must be prepared to defend us.”
“Exactly,” Prax said through grit teeth.
As they moved down towards the castle entrance, Shalise kept her thoughts carefully in check. She did not want any chance of naked golden statues of herself to assault their visitors.
Shalise’s mind blanked out in a brief moment of static.
The demon controlling her body stopped moving with a wince. “What is it this time?”
