“Malekith.” Zaxos’s voice was a low rumble, like the earth shifting beneath their feet. “You requested an audience. Let us not waste any more of my time.”
Malekith nodded, and gestured for Aric to follow as he moved towards the dais that had been set up at the far end of the chamber. The throne itself was nowhere to be seen. Zaxos sat, instead, in a simple high-backed wooden chair, though the aura of power that emanated from him was no less imposing.
They climbed the dais and knelt before Zaxos, their heads bowed. “My Sovereign,” Malekith said. “We have much to discuss.”
“Rise, then.”
Sovereign Zaxos stared down at them with an expression that might almost have been approval. For a long moment, the only sound in the chamber was the guttering of the torches, the thick silence of the assembled demon courtiers, and the thunder of Aric’s heart in his ears.
“Malekith,” Zaxos said again. “You have brought the army back to us, and for that you have my thanks. But at what cost? The human towns are in disarray, their forces scattered, but our own losses have been . . . substantial.”
Zaxos’s eyes narrowed, and Aric felt a shiver run down his spine. He was a master of the subtleties of demon court, but even he could not predict the Sovereign’s mood at any given moment. And if Zaxos was displeased with Malekith, then there was no telling what the consequences might be.
“Vizra’s strategy was flawed from the beginning,” Malekith said, his voice steady. “I did what I had to do to salvage the situation and secure victory for our forces.”
Zaxos’s lip curled in a sneer. “Victory, you call it? I call it a costly and unnecessary battle that has weakened us at a time when we can least afford it. The human realm is in disarray, yes, but they will not stay that way for long. We must press our advantage, and you have squandered it with your . . . your reckless actions.”
Malekith’s hands clenched into fists, but he kept his head bowed. “With all due respect, my Sovereign, I did what I believed was best for our people. Vizra’s failure only proves that she is not fit to lead the army. I stand ready to take her place and guide us to victory in the days to come.”
Aric held his breath, his whole body coiled with tension. Malekith’s words were a bold challenge to the Sovereign’s authority, and he feared the price that awaited him. If Zaxos saw Malekith as a threat to his power, he might move against him, and Aric would be caught in the middle.
Zaxos’s eyes blazed with a cold fire, and for a moment, Aric thought he saw the demon Sovereign’s true form flicker around him, a shadowy premonition of the power he could unleash. But then it was gone, and Zaxos’s face was once more a mask of stone.
“Be that as it may,” Zaxos said, “I am not the only one who is displeased with your actions. You have put our people at risk, needlessly endangered the lives of our soldiers, and for what? A few paltry human settlements that will be of no use to us in the long run.”
A low rumble of agreement ran through the assembled demon lords, and Aric’s heart sank. He could see the game that was being played here, the delicate dance of power and influence. Zaxos was testing Malekith, pushing him to see how far he would go. And already, the other demon lords were lining up behind their chosen sides, their loyalties and ambitions laid bare.
Suddenly, Vizra stepped forward, her honey-colored skin gleaming in the torchlight. “My Sovereign,” she purred, “I have uncovered evidence that may explain some of our . . . misfortunes.”
Aric’s breath caught in his throat. He had not seen Vizra since their confrontation in the library, and the look in her eyes promised retribution. She produced a scroll, unrolling it to reveal detailed accounts of the failed assaults, highlighting inconsistencies that suggested sabotage.
“As you can see, the plans for each of the assaults were carefully leaked to the humans, allowing them to set up their defenses and catch us unawares. I have traced the source of the leaks back to a network of human spies, who have been working in concert with the enemy. I have already taken the liberty of rooting out the majority of the traitors, but I fear there may be more lurking in our midst.”
Aric shifted, the edge of the stone steps biting into his knees. He had to stay calm, stay focused. He couldn’t let Vizra’s threats unnerve him, not when the fate of the human realm was at stake.
“And who are these traitors you speak of?” Malekith asked, his voice carefully neutral.
Vizra’s gaze never left Aric’s as she unrolled the scroll further. “The human mages that your pet has been colluding with, of course.”
Aric’s blood turned to ice. His mind raced, trying to come up with a plan, a way to turn the situation to his advantage. But Vizra was already ahead of him, and the trap was closing in.
“I have eyewitnesses who can testify that they saw the human mage using his powers to aid in the prisoners’ escape,” Vizra continued. “It is clear that he has been working against us all along, a spy in our midst.”
Aric’s heart pounded in his ears. He had helped a few prisoners escape, it was true, but he had been careful, taking every precaution to ensure that his actions went undetected. So how had Vizra found out? Who had betrayed him?
“I did—no such thing,” Aric cried. “And I helped you—I deciphered the weapon they used against us, I warned you about it, I cannot help that you chose to press on—”
“You tried to dissuade us from striking. You tried to convince us it was not worth an attack. Thankfully, the Sovereign in his wisdom urged us to press on. But the damage you’d sowed had already been done. The human prisoners you set free warned Brenville of our approach.”
He risked a glance at Malekith, but the demon prince’s face was a mask, his expression unreadable. Aric’s mind raced. If he was going to get out of this, he needed to think fast.
But before he could speak, Vizra turned to Zaxos, her head bowed in supplication. “My Sovereign, I present this evidence to you, and leave the judgment in your hands.”
The chamber was silent for a long moment, the demon lords gathered around the dais waiting with bated breath. Then a chill wind rippled through the chamber, tugging at the hems of their robes and extinguishing several of the torches. Aric shivered, his skin prickling with gooseflesh as the air grew thick and heavy, like the moments before a storm.
“Vizra,” a voice whispered—at first in Aric’s ear, then all around them—and Aric shivered. “You have done well.”
Aric’s head snapped around, but there was no one there. No one, that is, except for the shadowy figure that had appeared behind the demon Sovereign. Sylthris the Gravewhisper, the demon Sovereign’s spymaster, her pale skin glowing in the darkness like a wraith.
Aric’s heart pounded in his ears as he turned back to Zaxos. Sylthris bent forward to whisper to the Sovereign for a long minute that seemed to stretch into an eterity. The Sovereign’s face was carefully blank, but his eyes glittered with amusement, and Aric knew then that he was lost.
“Then the traitor must be brought to justice,” Zaxos said. He rose from his chair, his robes billowing around him, and the air in the chamber crackled with power. “I will not tolerate treachery in my ranks.”
The demon guards flanking Aric moved forward, their weapons at the ready. Aric’s heart pounded in his ears, and he tried to summon up his magic, but the shackles on his wrists and the thick wards around the chamber sapped his strength. He was trapped, with no way to defend himself, and Vizra’s smug smile only deepened as she saw his struggle.
“Seize the human,” Zaxos said, his voice echoing through the chamber. “He will face judgment for his crimes.”
“Wait.” Aric’s voice was a thin, reedy thing, but he forced himself to stand, to face the gathered court. “I can explain.”
Vizra’s eyes flashed with anger, and the guards closed in around him, their claws unsheathed. But Malekith stepped forward, placing himself between Aric and the guards.
“My Sovereign,” Malekith said, sinking to one knee. “I take full responsibility for the human’s actions. He has been under my authority. He already aided us with the wards, and he was assisting Vizra with deciphering the new schematics we found in the Silver Tower’s garrison—”
“Silence, Malekith!” Zaxos rose from his seat, his voice a deafening roar. “You have no authority here.”
As the guards closed in, Aric locked eyes with Malekith. In that moment, a wordless communication passed between them—a mix of fear, regret, and something deeper that neither was ready to name. Malekith’s hand twitched, as if he wanted to reach out, but he remained still, bound by duty and the weight of Zaxos’s command.
“I’m sorry,” Aric mouthed, his voice lost in the rumble of the chamber.
