Chapter Ten

“Are you sure this is the right way?” Lilith pushed a tight wooden door. Another empty room breathed back at the Little White Dragon, furnished with pieces so rich they gleamed like coin-laden reefs—easily worth two Little White Dragons.

She’d seen several such rooms in five minutes, the house looping like a confused labyrinth, as if a ghost pinched the corridors into circles. Lilith and Abaddon kept turning like leaves in a whirlpool.

“Of course it’s not wrong.” Abaddon bristled. “Even after years away, my memory’s a lantern in this fog.” Her room sat far from the main hall. “We’re in the servants’ wing now.”

Vexed by blame, the little Demon snapped, “By my map of the past, two more rooms and Lord Satan will be at the door.”

“We finally stepped into her sensing range?” Lilith asked, curiosity flickering like a candle.

“Not that.” Abaddon’s voice softened with nostalgia. “The entire Eternal City lies within Lord Satan’s senses, like a city held in her palm. She surely noticed you whisked me out.”

“Our three presences are loud. You and Nidhogg don’t know how to veil your breath. Anyone with a bit of power can taste that heavy dragon scent in the air.”

“But she spoils me. She gave me wide freedom. Even if I run, Lord Satan won’t chase. Yet whenever I look for her, she comes, like night answering a call.”

“You’ve got a goddess of a mom, so how’d you turn so rebellious?” The jab slipped out of Lilith in a whisper, a ripple of mischief under embarrassment.

Abaddon didn’t seem to hear. She swept forward and pushed open another shut wooden door, a lid on silence.

“Lord Satan.” The gray-white little Demon opened the door but didn’t step in. She bowed, a reed bending to the wind.

Lilith followed Abaddon’s gaze. A tall, full-figured woman stood within. Her clothes bared more than they hid, and a pair of bat wings unfurled behind her, a black curtain shading half the room. Even without an introduction, Lilith knew this was the Lord Satan Abaddon spoke of.

“My dear little Demon, when will you call me Mother?” Lady Satan sighed, regret pooling like dusk at the window. Years of grievance clung to her, thin as ash.

The tall Demon spread her arms. “Come. Let Mom hold you,” she said, warmth rising like a hearthfire.

“Lord Satan, my friend is here.” Abaddon moved forward, unwilling yet compelled. She dipped into the embrace like a dragonfly skimming a pond, then sprang away. A faint pink brushed the gray of her cheeks.

Shy, Abaddon nudged Lilith ahead, using the unlucky Little White Dragon as a modesty screen, like a fan raised in old theatre.

“I don’t mind if you keep… reconnecting.” Lilith’s voice was all awkward edges, her heart wishing for a crack in the floor to swallow her like quicksand. A mother and daughter reunited, and she stood here like a flickering lamp.

Still, she lived by a simple creed: since she’d come this far, she’d leave with something. A sliver of knowledge would do. “I do have a few questions for Lord Satan,” she said.

“Go on.” Lady Satan didn’t hesitate. “I don’t mind sharing Bosaklie’s most precious knowledge with an outlander.” Her smile was silk, her words the flicker of a blade. “But knowledge always asks for a price.”

“What do you need?” Lilith weighed her purse and found it mostly air. A Little White Dragon was newborn by dragon years—mature body, yes, but no centuries of hoard.

If Lady Satan named a steep price, Lilith might not pay. She shot Nidhogg a look. He turned his head away, a mountain closing its face.

Lilith clicked her tongue—tsk—and vowed the Black Dragon wouldn’t be allowed in her bed for two days.

Of course he’d give Lilith what she wanted. Even if he didn’t at first, a little effort and she’d pry open the chest.

As for the effort… she thought, then relented. Fine. Nidhogg could have the bed.

Sigh. My poor backside.

Sigh. My family rank.

“Why the sighs?” Lady Satan’s brow lifted, curiosity like a cat in sunlight. “I wouldn’t make things hard for a child.”

“You’re Abaddon’s good friend. I’ve heard you helped her more than once. Bosaklie is grateful, not greedy. We won’t ask you for wealth.”

“But the seeker of knowledge must pay a price, friend or not. Not in coin.” Her tone turned cool as moonlight. “Instead, for each question, tell me one thing Abaddon did while she was away from Bosaklie. How about that?”

The proposal was harmless to Lilith, but deadly to Abaddon. The little Demon shivered, a leaf caught in a sudden draft.

It took her one heartbeat to accept the words. Two more to grasp what “something Abaddon did” meant. Five to realize Lilith might parade her black history before Lord Satan.

Abaddon sprang, hands outstretched, aiming to cover Lilith’s mouth. Lilith moved like a fish from a net, slipping aside, and she shouted her question before the pounce landed.

“Tell me about the Divine Fragment tied to the Dust of Death!” Lilith raised her voice, a bell cutting fog.

“As for the price,” she added after a beat, “one night Abaddon woke to find the sheets wet. She thought Litt had wet the bed. The next morning she discovered it was her own doing.”

“Lilith!” Abaddon’s shriek split the room like lightning. Lady Satan covered her ears, smiling, and gave the Little White Dragon a thumbs-up.

She looked satisfied. That price would do.