He looked down at me as we left the arena. “No fear, Princess Wrath. When the Sword is in your hand again, you’ll do what you need to do.”
I nodded stiffly, and he shifted into his lion form, bending his front legs so I could climb up on his back.
I was wary of assassins all the way to the First Circle’s gates, especially since Dis was caught up in the elections of the new ambassadors, but there was no sense of malice. Perhaps Adranos had finally hunted down the last of the rogue Sin Eaters.
And maybe pigs had wings. I snorted to myself, and Belial tossed his head.
Lucifuge Rofocale, wearing long white and gold robes, was giving his speech in the First Circle as we passed. “You know my history, citizens,” he said. He stood on a tall podium, wearing a hat that exposed a ring of horns. “I’ve brokered deals with the likes of Prince Leviathan and Prince Belphegor. I have the trust of the Consortium. If you want your voices heard by the Princes, I am the Minister for you!”
Belial made a grumbling noise and I leaned over his neck. “If all you Princes just talked to each other like normal people, we wouldn’t need ministers,” I said quietly.
He swished his tail, almost setting a fruit stall on fire.
“Don’t get an attitude with me. It’s true. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: if we elected princesses, we’d be ruling the world in no time.”
Belial waited until we were well out in the wastelands to respond. “YOU ALREADY RULE DIS, PRINCESS WRATH. DO YOU WANT MORE?”
I swatted his shoulder blades gently. “I’m just joking. I don’t really want more. Dis is more than enough trouble already.”
“WE CAN GET YOU MORE. I WILL GO TO WAR FOR QUEEN MELISANDE.”
“No. No more, absolutely not. I just want Lucifer and Vyra back, and I don’t want to be the queen of anything.” I shuddered at the thought. I barely got peace as a princess-in-nickname only. Being queen would be Hell.
He laughed, the sound reverberating through his ribs and into my legs.
“You just want an excuse to start another war. Good news: we’ve already got one, so let’s focus on that first.”
Belial began to lope faster as we hit the open dunes, and I gripped handfuls on his fur to keep myself in place. “I NEED NO EXCUSES TO START A WAR.”
I was really going to have my hands full when Sarai was born… or maybe I’d get lucky and she’d take after me.
Knowing my luck, that was unlikely to happen.
The trip to Hekla Fell was much faster on Belial’s back. He ate up the miles with his long legs like they were nothing, leaving huge paw prints for the wind to sweep away behind him.
I slid off his back when we reached the edge of the mountains and he shifted forms, unable to fit between the small tunnels and ledges in his lion body.
Anxiety built in my chest as we climbed, but this time, the mouth of the tunnel was quiet. Lucifer and Vyra’s voices were barely audible over the usual quiet murmurs, and there wasn’t so much of a hint of a crying baby.
Whatever lived in the tunnel, it was a coward. Or it knew Belial was a match for it. Either way, I kept a tight grip on the Prince as we traveled through, only relaxing when the lava pool was visible before us.
There was no sign of Wayland. I wiped sweat off my brow as I carefully bypassed the fiery lake and pulled back the canvas door.
My mouth dropped open.
The worktable in the middle of his space was completely clear except for one weapon… and oh, what a weapon it was.
A length of gleaming ebony wood formed the long shaft, wrapped with gold wire at the hilt. A double-pronged spear head formed the tip, shining like the sunrise, as deadly sharp as a snake’s fangs.
Waves of power spilled out of the forge, crashing against my magic. It wasn’t an unfriendly call- if anything, the newly forged weapon was pleased to be in one piece again. And not just any piece, but one that seemed to be formed for me, and me alone.
“It’s the Spear of Light,” a gruff voice said. I jerked out of my reverie and found Wayland in the shadows on the opposite side of the forge, looking down at the Spear as well. “It wanted a new shape.”
My mouth was dry with excitement. “Do you speak with it, too?”
I itched to wrap my fingers around the smooth shaft and feel the balance. It was perfect. Absolutely flawless.
“All metals speak to me, some louder than others.” Wayland gestured to the Spear. “Take it. It doesn’t belong here, and neither do you.”
I looked up at him sharply, but there was no unwelcome in his words. “What do you mean by that?”
His ruby eye flashed in his socket, gleaming red as blood. “You have places to be, things to do. It might take a while to get there. It might not.”
I inched forward. “Do you know a better way?” I wasn’t going to ask if he knew what we were talking about. Something about Wayland felt odd, like he was somehow in all places at once, aware of everything but unwilling to speak of it openly. “I’m taking this to Irkalla.”
His eyes trailed over the Spear. “Beautiful, isn’t it? A weapon like this wants to be used. The balance must be in order. I’m surprised your shadow-man hasn’t told you about the Between yet.”
“What’s the Between?” Or rather, why did I always walk away from Wayland with far more questions than I came in with?
I moved close enough that my hips just touched the edge of the work able. The Spear’s power didn’t recede, but it felt warm, welcoming… practically humming with the desire to be in someone’s hand.
Several of Wayland’s arms were crossed over his chest and abdomen. “Ask the shadow. The faster you right the imbalance, the better.”
I steeled myself for the pain and reached for the Spear’s shaft.
It hurt. Oh God it hurt, blazing pain ripping through my palm and up my arm, but I was better prepared this time to handle the fire. It scorched my hand, like gripping a coal, but I felt the Spear’s sense of relief and righteousness. It was right where it wanted to be.
“I don’t know how to thank you for the things you’ve done,” I said. It took all my willpower not to wince as I spoke, but every second spent holding the Spear meant that I adapted to the pain a little more.
Wayland just lifted a shoulder. “It was what needed to be done. Not for you; but for the world.”
I nodded. That I could understand; I didn’t want to owe favors to him, but if I was meant to be a tool the universe used to right the scales of balance, then I was willing and ready.
I backed out of the forge, careful not to touch Belial with so much as the barest centimeter of the Spear.
“It was made for me.” The weight, the balance, the length… it was all perfectly designed to suit me. When the Spear was in my hand, I didn’t feel like a person wielding a weapon. I felt like it was part of myself, an extension of who I was in a strange sort of way.
Belial looked it over slowly, his eyes lingering on the reddened skin at the edges of my palm. “We’re ready.”
“Not quite.” I gripped the Spear tighter, determined to know every inch of it before I brought it to the one battle that counted. “Azazel’s been holding out on me. We’re not wasting any more time.”
Belial raised an eyebrow. “He’s always holding out on something.”