‘ Nooo! ’ Henry screamed. Beyond Blue and the devil, the wall had disappeared so that the chamber opened up, impossibly, on to a scene that chilled his blood. He was overlooking a vast metallic plaza, surrounded by squat, black buildings underneath a lowering sky. Set to one side of the plaza were twin thrones carved from obsidian and ornamented with complex inlays of what might well have been gold. Ranged before the thrones, row upon row, were thousands, tens of thousands, of horned demons. All were on their knees.
Henry ran. He had no weapon, but he struck Beleth with his shoulder so violently that the creature staggered. ‘Leave her alone, you bastard!’ Henry screamed. He punched and kicked the demon with a flurry of blows.
Beleth brushed him off like a gnat.
Henry was thrown violently across the floor. His foot caught in the remnants of the porphyry altar so that he stumbled and fell heavily. Beleth strode across and kicked him violently with one taloned foot. Henry’s clothing ripped and blood welled from the gash across his stomach.
‘Henry!’ Blue gasped. She felt a jolt as if she’d been kicked herself.
Henry’s eyes glazed, then slowly closed.
Beleth turned back to Blue with a smile.
‘Is he dead?’ she whispered.
The devil shook his head. ‘Not yet. Perhaps we should keep him as a sacrifice to celebrate our marriage.’ His eyes bored into her. ‘Would you like that, my dear?’
After a moment, Blue said dully, ‘Yes.’
Beleth took her hand and led her through the open wall. There was an instant of transition as the ancient magics gripped, then they were standing on the metal plaza. The kneeling demons prostrated themselves at once, foreheads pressing on the metal pavement. Beleth’s voice rose to the intensity of thunder.
‘Behold my new consort and your Queen!’ The kneeling demons roared approval.
Blue glanced behind her. Two of Beleth’s demons had entered the pentagram chamber and were dragging out Henry’s prostrate body. He looked more dead than alive. There was a sickness in her stomach, but she pushed it down savagely. Nothing must interfere with her duty to the Realm.
‘Not quite the truth,’ said Beleth quietly, ‘but soon you will be both.’
He led her to the smaller of the two thrones and waited politely until she was seated before sitting himself. She looked out over the sea of demon backs as the creatures began to climb to their feet and moved in regimented segments to take their appointed places.
The demons loved formality and ceremonial, that was for sure. All Beleth’s closest attendants were robed, horned and cloaked, their faces sharp and eyes aglitter. Beyond them stood rank upon rank of demon guards, naked for the most part, with the low light reflecting dully on their scales. Four enormous devils who moved to occupy the cardinal points sported barbed, prehensile tails.
The atmosphere was sulphurous, oppressive and very, very hot. Blue felt a bead of perspiration trail down one side of her face. Two ancient chamberlains carried a sturdy oak-wood table across the plaza and placed it directly in front of the thrones. This would be for the signing of the marriage pact, she thought.
The sense of occasion was heightened by the standard-bearers who moved quickly to surround the table on three sides. They were all imps dressed in eye-jarring motley where complementary colours flashed and clashed without the aid of a single woven spell. For the banners themselves, scarlet and black predominated, reflecting the heavy brocade now being spread across the table.
She forced herself not to look directly as the two demons dragging Henry dumped him in a heap against one table leg. He was still alive but unconscious, his breathing laboured. She had an uncomfortable feeling she might be required to drink his blood as part of the ceremony. If any of his blood remained. His clothes were already saturated from the wound in his stomach.
Beleth cleared his throat and stood on his throne to give himself more height. He looked imperiously around the assembled throng. ‘This is an auspicious occasion,’ he intoned in a voice that seemed too large for both mouth and chest. ‘A formal Marriage Pact – the first of its kind – between a ruling Prince of Darkness and a ruling Queen of Faerie.’ He was forced to pause by the spontaneous cheering of his subjects.
The noise died down eventually and Beleth continued with a speech that was liberally peppered with words like ‘historic’, ‘proud’, ‘significant’ and ‘era’. Blue listened politely, but when he at last climbed down and sat back on his throne, she leaned over and said quietly, ‘What about the boy?’
Beleth glanced at her and frowned. ‘What about him?’ he rumbled.
‘He’s still unconscious,’ Blue hissed. ‘If he’s to be a sacrifice, shouldn’t he be awake so he can suffer?’
Beleth contrived to look surprised and pleased at the same time. ‘Quite right, my dear. Our tradition calls for a slow and agonising death. Quite pointless if he sleeps through it.’ He turned to growl something at one of his attendants. In moments, two demon healers were kneeling at Henry’s side. Blue noted with satisfaction that his eyes opened almost at once, but the healers did nothing for his wound.
A creature that was mostly arms and legs scurried forward to deposit an enormous leather-bound tome on the table. Blue stared at it with interest. This was almost certainly the fabled Book of Pacts which recorded every significant treaty the devils ever made, dating back five centuries. She’d heard that somewhere, stored in fireproof chests hidden in the deepest depths of Hael, was an entire library of such books from even earlier times. She doubted anything they recorded was likely to match what was planned here.
‘Never a contract such as this one,’ Beleth boomed, almost as if he’d picked up her thought. She glanced at him quickly, but his expression betrayed nothing. Blue forced herself to relax. This was a vital moment for the Realm.
It was time. Blue could feel anticipation in the waiting demons like a physical fog. In minutes, she and Beleth would be married. She prayed Henry would understand what she was doing.
An ancient ceremonial pen was produced now; and a sheet of virgin parchment. It was all tradition at this stage. The pen was a sharpened eagle’s quill, the parchment made from lambskin, carefully cured, bleached and dried. It had a creamy colour and a pleasing texture. The writing was black ink in a strong copperplate hand outlining the terms of the marriage contract. Once signed, the document would last for ever.
‘The Pact,’ said Beleth smugly to a murmur of appreciation from the gathered throng. In his reverberant voice he began to read it, clause by clause.
Blue paid little attention. Their agreement was simple enough in its essence. It committed her to obey her future husband in return for his protection. Obey in all things was the exact wording. While the terms were personal, the implications were political. The Pact would deliver the demons control of the Faerie Realm.
‘Do you agree the terms?’ Beleth asked her formally.
From the corner of her eye she could see Henry turn to look at her. She hesitated. Could there be another way?
‘My dear…?’ Beleth urged.
Blue straightened her back. ‘I do,’ she said.