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Scrimshaw scoffed. “Pah. Aren’t you boys lucky that you summoned me, then? The first flaw in your plan is thinking that you could ever accomplish that. You don’t just saunter into one of the seven greatest hells and expect to get away with it. No. You’re going to deal with the prince the way that demons love. You’re going to bargain with Belphegor.”
I winced, narrowing my eyes. “Hmm. Yeah. That didn’t work out so well the last time. My memory’s fuzzy and I’ve probably got a couple of our agreements muddled, but the net result of bargaining with Mammon is that they want me dead.”
Scrimshaw pushed his fists into his waist, his stomach glistening and bulbous. “Well, can you blame them? You blew them up, and you didn’t hand over the corgi. Or the nephilim.” He gave Mason a curt salute. “No offense, buddy.”
“None taken,” Mason said. “But I think you’ve got it right.” He looked around at the rest of us, that righteous, decisive look already on his face – the one that reminded me that he really was Samyaza’s son. “I think it’s the best option we have, you guys. Really, it’s either a suicide mission into one of seven hells, or we bargain with sloth.”
“Hang on,” Sterling growled. “What if this is a trick? What if this little imp’s working with Mammon, like the last time?”
Carver held up a hand before Scrimshaw or I could protest. “Sterling. Don’t be so rude to our guest. Let us recall events as they transpired. Our poor friend Scrimshaw was bewitched by the demon prince of greed. That was an unusual situation.”
Sterling’s leather jacket squeaked as he folded his arms and stamped his foot. I wanted to le
t him get on my nerves, this bratty tantrum he was extending across the entire Boneyard despite only being pissed at me – and unfairly, at that – but Carver’s explanation came back to me. This was Sterling trying to be a friend, despite how horribly he was coming off.
“Then it’s settled.” Gil backed away from the circle again, waving his hand under his nose. “We go and find Belphegor, and we bargain. Where do we find them?”
Scrimshaw paused long enough from attacking a sausage to look down at his wrist. He wasn’t wearing a watch, but that didn’t stop him from peering closer. Whatever invisible device he had strapped there apparently had the answer.
“It looks like Belphegor is – wow, typical. They’re somewhere in the Philippines right now. Go figure.”
I shook my head. “Wait. Sorry. I thought we’d just have to go and find their tether or something. Mammon has one at an ATM in a rundown building, right here in the city.”
“That’s not how it works for sloth. Belphegor kind of wanders wherever they please. And right now, they’re chilling on some white, sandy beach somewhere in the equator. A place called Calaguas Island.”
Asher stared at a spot on the floor, his brow wrinkled in thought, before he spoke again. “With the time difference, it should be around noon or so. Maybe one at most. Which means that Sterling can’t come along.”
Sterling stamped his foot again, his head turning away as he gave a soft scoff. “Who said I wanted to come? I didn’t want to go anyway.”
I rolled my eyes, but bit my tongue. Carver sighed.
“It doesn’t matter. The Boneyard goes to bargain, not to battle. Dustin, Gilberto, Mason. The three of you will go to the Philippines.”
I stammered. “What? Just like that? How much do tickets even cost? When do we leave? And I have to pack, too. Also, I don’t have a passport.” I turned to Asher, forgetting in that moment that he’d never even been home to the Philippines before. “How’s the weather?”
Carver sighed a second time. “I will transport the three of you there with a sending spell. It really isn’t that difficult, Dustin.”
Asher cleared his throat. “If you don’t mind, Carver, I’d really, really like to go, too. A lot.”
Mason got up off the floor, dusting off the back of his jeans. “If it’s a matter of how many people you can send with one spell, I’m happy to back down if it means Asher gets to go.” It was quick, but the smile Asher gave him was full of warm gratitude.
Carver waved his hand. “A field trip it is, then. I shall send the four of you. Dustin, I trust you will manage well enough to shadowstep everyone back home.”
My eyes went as huge as saucers. “I’m sorry – halfway across the world? How many thousands of miles is that even? I can’t do that. I could die.”
For the third time, Carver sighed, which was starting to get annoying because I was pretty sure he was only doing it for effect – the man didn’t actually need to breathe.
“Very well. A quick afternoon jaunt with the five of us. Sterling, you will remain here and keep guard. And do keep Banjo company.”
Sterling kicked at the ground, sticking his hands deep inside his jacket pockets. “Fine. Come on, you little mutt. Let’s go run you around the Boneyard, get you some exercise.”
Banjo barked happily, taking off and nipping at Sterling’s heels.
“And I’ll stay here,” Scrimshaw said, burping. “Where it’s safe. Far, far away from demon princes.”
Carver nodded in amicable agreement, then looked worriedly down the corridor that Sterling had taken.
Gil patted him on the arm, tutted, and shook his head. “He’s being a huge baby about all this, but I’m sure he’ll get over it.”
