“What the hell are these things?” I hissed. “I thought he was the Prince of Sloth. Why are his minions like overgrown cheetahs? They shouldn’t be this fast.”
Artemis shrugged as she nocked another arrow. “Hell if I know. It’s all the same to me. Next one that comes out here is dead, same as that one on the pavement.”
Her bowstring twanged again, but this time by accident. She cried out, a red tendril seizing her by the wrist.
“Artemis!”
I slashed with my sword, severing the tendril in one blow, but not at all anticipating the seven that sprouted in its place. Like all the flowers, like a fucking hydra. Just what was Belphegor planning?
The tendrils latched on to both of Artemis’s wrists, then her ankles, restraining tightly, like the plants knew that they had to neutralize the strongest member of our team posthaste.
“Every time,” Artemis grunted, struggling against her restraints. “Every time we run into a demon prince I get tied up like this. The fuck is with your perverted kinks, you stupid demon – mmph!”
A fifth tentacle had found its way to her mouth, wrapping across her lips and cutting off anything else she had to say. Belphegor laughed, his unseen hags echoing him with their cackles.
“The goddess has a filthy mouth. Most uncouth. Unclean. Undeserving for the attention of one who will soon be the greatest among the Seven.”
His eyes were still burni
ng with the same terrible light, his voice distant, as though his mind was a separate entity from his body. And was he talking different, too? A little too formal for his style. What the hell was happening?
Royce lobbed a fireball up towards Belphegor, another futile attempt as the flames crashed, then snuffed out as they struck the prince’s force bubble. “The greatest? The hell are you talking about? That’s never going to happen, Sloth.”
The greatest among the Seven. The words reverberated in my mind as I slashed again and again at the tendrils restraining Artemis, her eyes going wider and more manic as more and more of the sentient vines appeared with each one I destroyed. She shook her head desperately, her eyes dark with warning. Was I supposed to stop? What else was I supposed to do?
Belphegor spoke again, his voice calmer, somehow, despite his words being filled with so much menace. “It is meant to be, Scion. A hedge wizard like you couldn’t possibly hope to comprehend. The alraune’s magic will let me fuel the growth of these flowers so that they spread across cities, states, over oceans as they reach their vines over this pitiful world.”
“I knew it,” I yelled at him, because taunting and distracting him felt like the only thing I could do anymore. “That’s played out, Belphegor.”
“Is it, nephilim? Is it ‘played out’ and ‘unoriginal’ for the flowers that my hags have worked so lovingly on to take root, mature within minutes, then release spores meant to paralyze every human that comes in contact with them?”
My blood froze, my muscles still as I exchanged cautious glances with the Scions. Even Artemis stopped struggling, momentarily stunned by the revelation.
“Paralyze,” I repeated dumbly.
“You heard what I said, nephilim. Mass paralysis is the name of the game. What would those of the Seven do to corrupt a population that cannot sin, nor move, only breathe and stare in horror out of disobedient eyes gone wide in permanent terror? Sloth isn’t laziness, or luxury, or decay. True sloth is apathy, inertia, loss of momentum. It is nothingness. Take away man’s capacity to sin, freeze them all, and I will be left the most powerful among the Seven.”
“You can’t do that!” Maharani shouted.
Belphegor grinned madly at her. “Oh, truly, Scion? Can’t I? Those are fine words for someone who plays with time as recklessly as a child with a spinning top. I’d have thought that this would be more familiar to you, Maharani Naidu. Won’t you join me and freeze time in turn? Such a pair we would make.”
“Never,” Rani snarled, her fists balled, her eyes wet.
“Suit yourself.” Belphegor sighed. “It isn’t my place to question why you squander so much of your power to preserve your own husband in temporal stasis. How cruel. They’ll never find a cure, you know.”
The air seemed to grow colder as Rani glowered at the prince. Tears rolled down her cheeks, her voice shaking. “Go back to hell, you foul abomination. Never speak to me of my husband. How could you even – no. Enough.” She turned to Royce, wiping her shawl furiously across her cheeks. “We have to call in a strike and end this right here.”
Royce stepped closer to her, their faces almost pushed up against each other as he spoke, slowly and deeply, as if relaying the gravity of what she was suggesting. “We’ve gone over this. The consequences would be catastrophic. We’d wipe out the building, Lorica HQ, and tons of civilians. It’s impossible. Can’t be done.”
“Will someone fucking help me out here already?” Artemis’s shouts came out muffled, her lips sputtering as they found a breach in the tangle of vines crisscrossed over her mouth. “Do something before they rip me apart. I swear, if I die here tonight, Belphegor, my family will – ”
Artemis’s words – in fact, practically every noise on the rooftop was smothered by a familiar rushing noise, one I recognized as the violent, high speed crash and tumble of magical flames. Artemis’s eyes went huge, her lips mouthing what I had no doubt were extremely creative and extremely volatile curses as the flames ate away at the vines tied around her extremities, at the petals and flowers surrounding her. Within seconds, the fires had burned the plants clear away, leaving her miraculously unharmed.
She stared down at her arms in befuddlement, blinking. I searched the garden for the source of the fires, my heart practically falling out of my ass when I found the man responsible.
“Ignis.”
Another roaring torrent of flames emanated from the palm of Quilliam J. Abernathy’s hand, rushing over the flowers and tendrils carpeting the garden, consuming them utterly. Box yelped like a frightened puppy as he clattered towards me, hiding behind my legs. I patted him in reassurance, then collected him into my hands, whispering soothing nothings as his instincts kicked in and he shrank to the size of a die. I tucked him into one of my jacket pockets, zipping it up to keep him safe. Box had seen enough action for one night.