“GET THAT FUCKIN’ CAMBION FREAK OUTTA HERE!” Vera snarled. “UGLY RAT! I’m gonna kill him, oh, I’m gonna do it to it him, I’m tellin’ you, you can’t trust these pink-skinned freaks to fold your clothes, the second you turn your head they’ll try to put a finger in your ass and steal your gold.”

  “Are you speaking from experience?” The portal to Hell closed behind Beion, he hummed annoyedly at the guts and viscera stuck to his boot soles. “If it eases you at all I’m delighted to share I have no interest in fingering your arses, tried it once, very messy, had to curse that human to eternal damnation for staining my favourite white shirt forever brown.”

  “See? You won’t find a human willing to sleep with a cambion, he kidnapped one of us! Order me to kill him!” Vera continued. “He’s a scrawny little prick! I’ll skin him and turn him into a coat!”

  “Please, must we behave like juvenile apes?” Beion sighed. “I am aware of the hatred of the cambions, my sister warned me that the fox-eared girl was rather spicy, venomous like a cobra, fangs out for all… grrr… look at you, so pretty and deadly, show me those adorable fangs that you’re so eager to show.”

  “I will not accept compliments for a cambion… even if they are appreciated! Thank you! Wait—no—I’d never thank a demon!”

  “You are very welcome,” Beion smirked. “I am not your enemy, not if you don’t want me to be, I offer friendship, real friendship, a blossoming alliance of mutual benefit.”

  “And what do you have to offer us?” Death asked. “You came here for something, if it’s not revenge for your brother, then why are you here?” He must want something… he is so much smaller than his brother, I saw in Aleirica’s memories that this one laughed at her too, I can’t be completely trusting of anything this man has to say… Snow seems brave, she’s holding onto my arm, but she’s not got those terrified eyes she always has.

  “I think Vera likes the cambion,” Snow whispered. “She’s gone red, look at her.”

  Vera panicked and knocked over a crate of wine, declaring she hated cambions, then hid in the corner, chasing a spider up the wall with her finger to pretend she wasn’t embarrassed.

  “Snowstorm above is quite rowdy, nice cellar,” Beion joked. “Looks more like a crypt, wouldn’t be surprised if there were bodies of children in those walls of barrels plenty—I am from Hell, this guy smells of sin, who knows what filthy pleasures was stored in that hideous brain.” He conjured up a chair, then three more. “These ones are comfier, crafted from the fur of a hellhound, sit, they will not grow teeth and bite.”

  “How do we know you’re really her brother?” Snow asked.

  “Ha-ha, do I not look similar to my dearest Aleirica? Feels like I am looking in a mirror of an alternate universe when I speak to her face-to-face.”

  “What do you wish to discuss?” Death said impatiently. “Only a fool would enter a room with strangers so trustingly.”

  “I’m from Hell, I know who can be trusted and who can’t. I first want to offer you a token of good faith; now, I may have intruded on your torturous interrogation… heard a lot, so… a gift for our new friendship.” He clicked his fingers and a flame formed into a white letter, sealed with a waxy pentagram seal. “I sealed it myself, so you know I didn’t read a thing—snatched this moments ago, from the bedside of Killian Entrail at Vatanil.”

  If that letter is truly what he claims it is, then he has saved us a very large amount of travelling and battles… but the fat oaf said Killian had it on him all times.

  Beion answered before Death could inquire; from when he was a little boy, he always sensed the logical questions before they came.

  “Obviously he saw me snatch it,” he said. “I opened a portal to his dark and dusty chambers, he had three women, all different shades, grunting like a dog, and on the table—the letter. He was angry when I took the letter, the bed snapped in half and he grabbed his sword all while naked, cutting two of the three harlots in half as they fled, an accident, I think, but who knows… ‘twas a tricky task, if he’d entered that portal to Hell there would be a slaughter of my people, I took a risk for you.”

  He blew on the letter; it grew wings of smoke and flapped to Snow’s lap. “A warning,” he continued. “I was informed of your battle with Quinn of Bianca’s Bastards and all that nasty ritual stuff that you got caught in, Killian and the rest of them will now, without a doubt, hold you accountable and paint you as the culprits since you now have this letter.”

  Death gave a firm nod in gratitude. “There are no strings to this gift? If I deny your next request, you will leave peacefully?”

  “Of course, however, considering how much fun you had when you slaughtered my brother, I’d say you’ll enjoy this task even more than when you took off his head—I was watching, had to be, I am the only one of the Flame family that was gifted with conjuration of Hell portals.” He clicked his fingers, a fiery manifestation of Aleion appeared in the middle of them. “I never like him, he was the middle of the three, cocky, arrogant, slow-minded and irrational. My father doesn’t know the fate of Aleion, but my eldest brother was enraged by the news. He will come to avenge, and I came to warn you that he knows exactly where you are, touching our family heirloom has left a scent that only we can smell.”

  “Deilon,” Death remembered. “And you want me to spare him, let you keep you a brother?”

  Beion clicked his fingers and changed the figure to Deilon, a far wider and bigger opponent. “I want you to kill him,” he said. “My little Aleirica will never say it, but she wishes him dead too—if my father comes, kill him too, slaughter my grandfather if he dares to come out of his hibernation. On his death I will become the eldest brother. If my father perishes, I shall become the head of the Flame family and show Hell what I’m capable of.”

  How peculiar, Death thought. “The complete opposite of your sister. A plea for Aleion’s life is what she attempted, didn’t mean much, she couldn’t get close to get into his head.”

  “Does this mean you’ll kill him?”

  “I will, but not for you, cambion, because I want to. Vera, you will be useful and aid me in this fight now that we have time to plan an attack. Snow, you will need to hide.”

  “I’m tired of hiding!” she said angrily. “If that cambion has a power to be stolen, I want you to give it to me!”

  “He has a few learned tricks but none of them are given to him as gifts from the gods—however, he once struck a deal with a devil for a sword bound to his soul. A fine blade, unbreakable, forged in ancient times from the armour of a seraph, when Heaven had not yet fallen. Cannot be melted, cannot be reforged, the edge of it shall never dull even if one strikes the strongest god a billion times.”

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Sounds too good to be true,” Death said.

  “Devils are cunning but true to their bargains, my brother is a greedy warrior, wanting a legendary weapon. He is in a contract with this devil that states he can only return to his full power in a near-death state; this was the price of the sword.”

  If the sword and contract is bound to the soul of the cambion then that blade can be stolen without the effects of the devil. If this does happen, the devil would feel cheated and would eventually seek the weapon back, another opponent to kill.

  “I want it!” Snow yelled. “It’s settled. Death, when you kill that ugly demon, I command you to gift me the sword!”

  “I keep his strength,” Death said. “Sword only?”

  “Uh-huh!” she exclaimed.

  “You can steal soul-bound weaponry? Is that what I saw when my brother fell to you? I thought that was an illusion.”

  Death summoned his Choking Chain. Beion rubbed his chin, amused. “Wonderful… my brother Deilon dwarfed Aleion in power but that was something that terrified him—the chain on that ball is also unbreakable, in their rough fights it would wrap around the sword and strike him in the head… it’s an excellent counter.”

  “That information will be useful. Fox, do you have anything to add this conversation?”

  “No,” she squeaked. “I don’t speak to cambions.”

  “I like foxes,” Beion said smugly. “And foxes love me, I have a pet fox in Hell who curls up next to my legs, perhaps you can come and see him when you’re ready to be civil.”

  Vera groaned in an accepting yet hateful growl.

  “How long until your brother finds us?” Snow asked.

  “Who knows? I gave him a portal outside of Lakevalor a few minutes before I came to you. He’ll be wandering the streets trying to find you as we speak. Let us go up, I will be observing, seeing the death of Deilon is something I need to see personally.”

  The four exited the cellar, Vera gathered the gold bars into a basket and brought it with her. “Hm, that is a lot of jewellery,” Beion said. “Is this yours?”

  “Yeah, so get your pink hands away from it! Hey, I said don’t touch it!”

  Beion put the down the diamond. “An angry little fox, aren’t you? Fine, I shan’t touch your riches, are you ready to go into the blizzard and find my brother?”

  Snow raised her hand.

  “A question?” Beion said. “I am your friend, ask away.”

  “Why do you look so different than your brothers?”

  “Hm… how to explain… well, you want the discussion that a mummy cambion has with their sons when they turn of age? Sure, I can provide that—our way of reproducing is different from the way you humans pop out little babies. We aren’t supposed to breed, my sister said you mentioned a succubus so you should know they and the incubi all went extinct. It took a lot of deals with devils and a lot of experimentation for cambions to be able to breed properly, but there was one flaw, the children got smaller and weaker with each birthing cycle, ‘tis why the residents of Hell have never been able to retaliate for the slaughter of our kind, we don’t have the numbers. Our parents birth as many as they can, and when the children start to get smaller and frailer they refuse to have another. I was supposed to be the last, but my father believed he would break the natural law and the fourth would be the mightiest warrior, a legend reborn… imagine his shock when little Aleirica was squeezed out into Hell, I’m surprised he didn’t crush her head with a rock.

  That is why I look so different than my brothers, Snow, as I have heard you be called. I never got the tall frame of a firstborn, ‘tis also why my sister is such a rarity amongst Hell… a fourth born daughter, born after the third came out as a runt, and she had a power that would be unstoppable in the hands of a firstborn like Deilon who can cleave his way through to the enemy… but Aleirica, she bruises from falling, I have to feign a hatred for her so my two brothers don’t condemn me, but the truth is that I love her more than a brother ever could. I would marry her if we were not bound by blood, as weird as that may sound, her mind is a wonderful maze I’ve loved mapping, a wonderful shape, like your little fox friend.”

  “Fuck you!” Vera hissed. “Stop complimenting me! And stop fantasising about incest, it’s weird!”

  “My, I rambled so much on a simple question, I hope the answer I gave was good for you.”

  “It was… interesting,” Snow said. “I’m cold… putting that coat back on didn’t help at all.”

  “Ah. The blizzard, let me help you with that.” He clicked his fingers and a spiral of fire attached to each of them. “There, the cold shouldn’t bother you while I am here. I must ask, Death, is this your true name?”

  Snow explained Death’s sealing and how she rescued him.

  “That aligns ominously well with a rumour in Hell, the devils were sensing that an angel had been revived.”

  “You’re an angel?!” Snow squealed. “Death, why didn’t you tell me that?”

  “I’m not an angel,” Death snarled. “If I were, the cambion would be shitting his pants just by being those close to me.”

  Beion confirmed Death was right. Snow was saddened by the quick revelation that she man she loved wasn’t an angel.

  “Foolish mortals!” a voice yelled. “You shall perish beneath my mighty boot; thou shall burn eternal for your crimes!”

  A figure opposed them from a large length away at the top of a staircase near the central castle.

  “Is that him?” Vera asked. “The fuck is he saying?”

  “Black hair, redder skin, narrating his movies like he’s part of some Hell theatre… that’s him,” Beion said. “Good luck, I shall watch the battle with your lady friend… is that okay, Snow?”

  Snow looked for approval from Death.

  “Just keep her away from the battle,” he said.

  Deilon breathed fire into the storm, staining it red, bashing his chest like a gorilla establishing dominance. “Come, you mongrel! I wear the armour of a Valan warrior! I bathe in human blood, pick my teeth with baby bones, come and beg for a quick death! Pay with your life, you are unworthy!”

  “I can’t hear a word he’s saying,” Death said. “I hope it’s not important, looks like he’s putting his soul into it.” I’m confident this will be an easy fight, let’s just make it quick and easy.

  “Vera has good ears, what did he say?” Snow said.

  “I think he said he his wife is thirteen.”

  “Ha-ha-ha,” Beilon said. “Vixen, you are such a tickle.”

  “Shut up, pink-skin, why do you laugh out each word, freak.”

  “I’m on your side, honey, no need to swipe those claws at the way I do things. By the way, his wife is twelve… ha-ha-ha, I’m just jesting, that brute slips his cock between two coals covered in jelly and pretends it’s a pony.”

  Vera laughed, then went deadpan. “I like you, cambion,” she admitted. “But this changes nothing, you are a vile creature.”

  “I like you too, vixen-lady.”

  “Call me Vera.”

  “And you may call me Bei.”

  “Fuck later,” Snow sighed. “He’s nearly finished his speech.”

  “—and I will rip out your spleen, rip out your eyes, fuck the sockets until I pound your brain into jelly.” He raised a hand to the storm. “Hear my summon, blade forged in Hell, come to me!” The sword answered his call and appeared with a red flash. “I will have justice for Aleion, come and fight!”